Monday, December 31, 2007
Both of our spare bedrooms are upstairs, so the idea of putting a nursery up there isn't too appealing. But we have this odd space that was probably just a bad idea on the part of the previous owners - which works to our advantage because it's right off of our bedroom (and too weird of a space to use for anything else - up until recently we used it for our computer area):
Now I'm a huge fan of anything do-it-yourself-ish, and I also love the concept of the show Wasted Spaces. The other day as I was wondering where we would have room to put all of the baby's clothing, considering there will be close to no floor space after the crib is here (and with the nursery not technically being built as a bedroom, there isn't a closet). My first thought? Bathroom towel racks! (Showcased at the front are two of my favorites: the little sweater was something that my mom bought, and the little blue teddy bear cuddly thing was something my step mom bought):
And I guess now is as good a time as any to reveal the baby's name. I hate calling him "the baby". So here you go (my mom joked that the name we chose rhymes with my favorite bad word!) Oh, and I was inspired by my father, the pilot of the family:
When we first moved in, I called the electric company to switch service from the seller to us. We had to sign a two year contract. When I called the Internet company, I had a choice between a one year and a two year contract, but if I chose the two year, I wouldn't have to pay the $50 deposit. Our cable wasn't on contract until I had to call and have the satellites adjusted after a typical Texas rainstorm, and just so I wouldn't have to pay the $75, I signed a one year contract. And of course, we don't have prepaid cellphones, so those are on contract as well. Now with our new alarm system, we have a three year contract.
The problem with this I think, is the fact that it relieves companies from having to scramble when a customer like me gets fed up with the horrible service and threatens to cancel. Businesses have taken all power away from customers - and I'm not talking about those crazy customers that are never happy about ANYTHING. I'm talking about me, a fairly rational person who pays her bills on time and expects nothing more than what's promised to me in the service agreement.
With that said, I'm feeling a little helpless in a situation with our alarm system company. Scout has called countless times to have the system fixed because the inside garage door sensor doesn't work (and hasn't since it was installed). Every time we set the alarm, we have to bypass the garage door (meaning of course, that someone could break in through the garage and the alarm wouldn't go off). And the back door isn't hooked up to go off in the "stay" mode, so if we were asleep in the middle of the night, someone could come in through the back door without the alarm going off. So by my count, that's two out of three door sensors that don't work. We're paying full price for 1/3 of the service.
Here's the bigger problem: Scout told them that he just wants it fixed or he wants to cancel the service. He doesn't want to have to call back one more damn time to see if anyone has gotten the work order. The guy on the phone told him he was welcome to do that, but he would still have to pay out the contract.
Are you kidding me? I'm telling you, people in customer service jobs have it made because they can always come back to the contract (that really only benefits the company). And it's horse shit.
Friday, December 28, 2007
1. Take pictures in front of home. Check.
2. Answer uncomfortable questions about my sex life. Check.
3. Take dogs and cat to the vet for vaccines. Check. (Note to self: It's amazing that a few milligrams of Acepromazine can prevent the butt juice defense mechanism. This year I'm not "that lady.")
1. Make appointment for dreaded Home Study.
2. Liquidate entire life savings in order to pay for the adoption.
3. Buy crib, new digital camera, changing table, cloth diapers, wipes, formula, baby monitor, high chair, stroller, baby swing, bottles, this, this, and baby mattress in the next four weeks. Note to self: this list is guaranteed to grow exponentially.
4. Find a place to put all baby gear mentioned in number three.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
A misunderstanding about firearms legislation may have contributed to the severity of a polar bear attack near Kimmirut on Tuesday.
The Inuit guide who was the victim of the brutal bear attack did not have a gun to defend himself.
Kootoo Shaw says as far as he knew, he wasn't allowed to have a gun while he's working as a guide.
"We Inuit are not supposed to have any guns when we guide people from down south, that's why we didn't have a gun," he says.
However, that's not what the law says. While Nunavut's Wildlife Act says Inuit cannot use guns to hunt while they're guiding, they can carry guns for protection against bears.
Shaw says that isn't how he understood the rules.
The U.S. hunters also seemed to have misinterpreted national rules.
John Clark, one of three hunters with Shaw, says his group was told they could carry guns but that the bullets had to be removed when the gun was idle.
"The reason we left is because we knew there are more bears out there, they've been seen and there's no way of protecting yourself," he says. "Unless you can sleep with a loaded weapon, and even that is a little chancy."
The Canadian Firearms Act governs how firearms are stored, and stipulates when guns should be unloaded.
Hal Major, the district manager of the Canada Firearms Centre in Winnipeg, says hunting trips are one of several exceptions to the rule.
"The firearm does not have to be unloaded, it does not have to be rendered inoperable," he says.
Major says that if confusion exists about Canadian gun laws, it's possible that more public education about the rules and regulations is required.
Meanwhile, Kootoo Shaw remains in hospital, recovering from his injuries.
He required 300 stitches to his head and suffered numerous bites and slashes to his back and feet.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
I was telling my aunt on the phone the other day that hatred makes for good writing - and hatred really isn't what I've been experiencing - which means lack of good writing material. When I lived in Germany, I guess I had great writing material.
I mildly dislike how ghetto Killeen is, I really dislike going to WalMart at any time of the day other than midnight, and it gets old that Scout is always in the field. But I don't hate anything. My life is good. I love my job, love our home, and love the prospect of having a child in the next *six* weeks. So it makes for blah style writing (or no writing at all).
I may need some advice, though. I'm pretty sure I'll go with my gut on this one, but feel free to put your two cents in.
This adoption agency that we've chosen didn't say anything about faith when we went in for the consultation. However, after looking through the paperwork, I've seen mission statement type things that say, "We are a faith based agency...blah, blah, blah".
So even though both Scout and I were raised in religious homes (his dad is a Preacher, for heaven's sake), neither one of us have the desire to go to church. We don't believe or disbelieve in the Bible. We celebrate Christmas, but more in the Santa Clause is Coming to Town way (as opposed to Because Christ was Born). We celebrate Easter because of the bunnies, not because of the resurrection.
So I put down N/A for religion. I have a problem saying that I'm Protestant if I'm not (for fuck's sake, isn't that a lie?). Scout had a slight problem putting N/A, but didn't really want to put Protestant either.
But now I'm feeling like this private arrangement we made with the birth mother has somehow turned into this nightmarish judgement of whether we are good enough. Should I be honest (like the Bible tells me to), or lie in order for this "faith based" adoption agency to approve me as a decent, caring, responsible human being? And what the fuck? You could at least tell me what faith it is! I don't even know if Protestant would be the right answer!
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Him and the cops arrived at the same time, and when we went outside, there were things I didn't notice because of the absolute shock I was in the first time I went out there. Someone's sweatshirt had been ripped off, and a brick from our fire pit had been knocked over. There was also a holster laying on the other side of the yard. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall so I knew why in the HELL someone felt compelled to leave a gun in our yard.
The gun ended up not being loaded, and all the dogs were fine. I'd like to think that my sweet Daisy flipped the switch when she saw a stranger in the yard, chased him (causing him to trip over the fire pit), got a hold of his sweatshirt as he climbed the fence, and caused him to drop his gun before escaping to the other side.
It's more probable that someone just threw the gun over the fence in an attempt to get rid of evidence, but it makes me feel better to consider the possibility that someone is walking around with a huge chunk out of his or her ass.
My favorite? Number 66 (particularly the last two questions):
How does your spouse display affection? How would you describe your sexual relationship? Who most initiates sex?
I owe a beer to whoever can come up with the best/funniest/most inappropriate answers for these questions. Big Dick, I'm pullin' for you.