One can only hope Robbo will bestow the Cake Eater Pumpkin with his seal of approval.

*Spot the quote and you will be the recipient of the age old, yet secret, wisdom of just how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop. Wait a few minutes before answering, though. I need to figure it out first.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:47 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 68 words, total size 1 kb.

You should probably open up your pilates mat more often.

This way you won't find spiders on the inner folds of the mat, wandering around aimlessly, completely encased in a pouch, the size of a square inch, of their own making. This move has the added bonus of not having to kill the thing in such a manner that you don't leave spider guts on the mat. Even though you were completely successful with the spider gut thing, it would be better not to have to deal with it at all, if you get what I'm saying.

See, my devoted Cake Eater readers? I'm all about helping. Myself.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:28 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 114 words, total size 1 kb.

...and can kiss my lily white ass.

Strike that. He'd probably enjoy it too much and the husband would have issues.

Anyway...

Ok, it's official: The Red Sox didn't just get lucky. There wasn't any blood red moon hanging over Denver last night. No one was drinking the blood of infants in Boston last night to try and sway the Baseball Gods.

They won it, fair and square.

Congratulations. I suspect in a few years time, Theo Epstein and the owners will be hated as much as Steinbrenner and the Yankees.

And that's something we never thought we'd actually see in our lifetime.

Impressive, no?

Posted by: Kathy at 09:40 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 121 words, total size 1 kb.

In no particular order, per usual...

• I wonder if I'm ever going to have the brain power to put together an essay again, instead of just posting these little bullets of randomness. Sigh.
• See what I mean about sunsets?
  

  How could you miss something so phenomenal as this because you were too busy watching the news? Particularly when this view is right outside your door? You can make time for this. Really and truly you can.

  And if you can't, well, you're a flaming idiot.

  The husband's shop just obtained a new large scale plotter/printer. We're thinking that one would look cool on the wall. And the fact that the shop now has a new printer has nothing to do with it.

• Have I mentioned I returned home to a brand spankin' new bathroom?
  

  For this, we paid no rent for the month of October. The husband actually lived here while there was no plumbing. Don't ask how he managed. You really don't want to know.

  Of course, since this is the Cake Eater Pad, there are a few problems remaining to be fixed. The contractor, who gave the husband headaches galore, did a shitty job with the caulking and silicone. There are holes in the caulking in the tub, where he missed, and they're worse than what was there before, so that's saying something. They pulled out the window frame and when they replaced it, they didn't bother to putty up the nail holes, so there are a bunch of pockmarks where there shouldn't be. The grout line between the tub and the new tile floor looks like it was put in place by a two-year-old with limited Play-Doh experience. The door frame, which now holds the old door in a pocket frame, is completely unfinished. The paint job is pretty crappy. Have I mentioned that there are holes cut into the ceiling for a new light fixture and for the HVAC vent---but that there's no light fixture or vent in place? I could go on, but you get the gist. There are lots of little things---and some biggies---that need attention, in other words. But the thing that pisses me off the most is that, somehow, the bathroom is bigger now. Why does this piss me off? You wouldn't think it would, particularly if you'd been in the previous hidey-hole bathroom. But it does. Because we actually have less storage now than we did before.

  Sigh.

  See, the contractor was supposed to start the day after I left for Florida, the fourth of October. He didn't actually start until the 9th. The demo went fine, like it usually does in any similar situation, because everyone loves deconstructionism, but then the guy started running into problems. And then he kicked off early that Friday to go pheasant hunting. The thing was supposed to be done last Tuesday. It wasn't actually done until this past Friday, the 19th. And, according to an email we got yesterday from the landlord, he went waaaay over budget. Hence we don't have the storage cabinet above the toilet that we were promised. Nor have the towel racks/hooks been installed. See that bit at the end of the shower? Well, that's supposed to be cut out and shelves are supposed to be installed. We kind of figured that that would have happened before they put the drywall in and painted it over, but nooooooo. Yeah. Quality is, apparently, job one with this dude. And the poor landlord is tapped out, so it's not going to get done before December, when he visits again and can do it himself.

  In the meantime, I have a box of assorted shit from one of the old cabinets that's still sitting on the floor in the bedroom. I had to clear the linen closet out yesterday to make room for all the other assorted shit that was still lying around. That vanity is pretty neat until you realize that it holds less than our old medicine cabinet did---but I had to shove all of our daily necessities under there, nonetheless, because that's the only place I could put them.

  Sigh. Why this shit always happens to us, I don't really know. We're a magnet for construction related problems. If we ever have our own house and we need to rehab it, I've decided I'm going to get the whole project insured by Lloyd's of London, so I'll at least make some coin on all of these delays/fuck-ups. Because they're gonna happen---might as well be prepared.

• In hair news, I should probably tell you that I have some now.

  All that fuzz morphed into something more. I have real, honest to goodness hair, and enough of it that, when I wake up in the morning, bits of it stick out! I never thought I'd be excited to say that I have bed head, but I am.

  I don't know if/when this stuff will fall out, but, according to the literature I received from the oncologist's office, it should, any time now. Then I should get in my regular hair, which will probably be curlier than it was before and completely unmanageable. We'll just have to see what happens.

  Right now I'm content to have my scalp hidden, like everyone else. Even if I look like a guy.

  While we're on the subject of hair, or the lack of, I must give a ringing endorsement to the Nioxin people, makers of the baldie starter kit. The oncologist's office recommended this product during chemo class, and it works fantastically to keep the scalp clean and itch-free. Don, hair guy extraordinaire, calls it a, "facial for your scalp." It works wonderfully and it has the Cake Eater Seal of Approval.

• How about those Red Sox, eh?

  It was actually kind of a boring game last night, and it became spectacularly embarrassing during the bottom of the fifth, but I'm glad they won nonetheless. If for no other reason than I get to rub my sister's nose in it. This particular sister lives outside of Denver and her family is big into baseball. She sent out a particularly obnoxious email, which went something like, HOW ABOUT THOSE ROCKIES!!!!!!! in the title line of the email, when they won the NLCS. There wasn't anything in the actual email. For this sin, she shall pay.

  The only question is, do I taunt her now or do I wait?

• I flew home on Northworst.

  I had to connect through Memphis. They parked the first plane at the end of the B Concourse. My connecting flight to Minneapolis was located at the end of the A Concourse. When I landed in Minneapolis, we parked at the end of the A Concourse, which of course, is an extension of the already uber-long C Concourse. It took me almost twenty minutes to get to baggage claim. I HATE it when this happens. Pisses me off and it isn't inclined to make me grant Northworst any charitable opinions.

  Furthermore, there was some weirdness in Memphis. I stopped into a shop and the chick behind the counter treated me like a regular. Confused with all the familiarity, I wondered why. My confusion must have been apparent, because she said, "I remember you from last time."

  They must not get too many people with scarves on their head.

That should do you for a time, kids.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:15 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 1244 words, total size 8 kb.

I'm not sure how many of you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, have BBC America on your cable/statellite systems, but if you do and you enjoy cars, you should check out Top Gear on Monday nights. They test all sorts of cars, from the cheap to the very expensive, and they do it with a lot of flair, panache and a great sense of humor.

The husband watched last week, when I was away on vacation, and had to tell me all about their review of the Bugatti Veyron when I got home. They'd already reviewed it once, but this time they wanted to see if it would actually get up to the top speed Bugatti claims it can reach---253 mph. And to do this, they put one of the hosts, James May, behind the wheel at Volkswagen's test track, where five miles of straightaway are at hand. This is funny because James May's nickname is "Captain Slow".

Check it out. It's a bit long, but it's totally worth it.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:41 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 172 words, total size 1 kb.

Rough life, eh?

You'll excuse me, but I need to go and stake a claim on the beach.

I should be to the left of the rainbow umbrella for the next few hours if anyone needs me.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:48 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
Post contains 53 words, total size 1 kb.

Well, my devoted Cake Eater readers, I'm at the beach. To be specific (well, not really) I'm on the Redneck Riviera, staying with the Cake Eater parents for the next few weeks. Someone (coughthehusbandcough) decided I could use a few weeks on the beach to heal up.

If this is what I have to look at every evening, while I'm enjoying my evening libation, I think it should go well.

Posted by: Kathy at 08:28 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 74 words, total size 1 kb.

1 Enjoy, dear lady, enjoy!! ; )

Posted by: Chrissy at October 04, 2007 02:48 PM (EBCRo)

2 I think you've earned the right to take a breather from reality for awhile.

Posted by: wil at October 04, 2007 05:07 PM (d02Z7)

3 Niiiiiice husband.

Posted by: Robbo the Llama Butcher at October 05, 2007 08:02 AM (0JsTF)

4 Yeah, he's a good one.

Posted by: Kathy at October 05, 2007 08:20 AM (Aq0d0)

5 Good show, MRN! Love you, girlie girl. I'm doin' fine and wishing I was there with you - cocktail in hand. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at October 05, 2007 11:13 AM (wpu3a)

6 Awwww...shucks. She needs it, and deserves it. Bonus! She'll come home to a remodeled bathroom! (Although I have little to do with that, the landlord is finally getting on it.)

Posted by: MRN aka "The Husband" at October 06, 2007 05:25 PM (DoFSB)

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