I'm no reporter, ya'll

I think the number of posts I've made this year makes this statement VERY CLEAR.  I don't need to tell you, dear five people that still torture yourselves by coming here.  I love you, but you do know that this has turned into some co-dependent relationship, right?  Or something like that.  I'm no expert on that kind of stuff.  I do know you are some loyal ass blog readers and I give you props for giving me the very little encouragement I apparently need to spout off about a bunch of bullshit.

So, I'm going to wrap up this nonsense that started in November of 2005.  At least for now.  I may come back to this blog when I'm feeling more like a pineapple reporter.  It does seem a little wrong to walk away after all this time, but it is time for something new.

Hope you have a very happy 2010!

Pineapple

Sushi-a-no-no*

Don't get me wrong.  I love sushi.  I also love food trailers.  Give me cupcakes, pizza or tacos out of a food trailer any day.  But there is just something wrong about eating sushi made in a food trailer on the side of the road.  Maybe it is just me, but I'll have to pass.

*As always, you can click the photo to make it more bigger!

it is with a not so heavy heart and a jammed pinky finger,

I am saying goodbye to the styrofoam rock.  You may recall that in July a certain someone moved out without taking this gigantically stupid, phallic piece of shit.*  Well, bulk trash day has finally arrived.  Come Monday this albatross will be going to its next home: the landfill.

Just for the record, styrofoam rocks are a lot heavier than you think.  I had to turn it end over end because it was too heavy to pick up and carry to the curb.  Unfortunately, the sorry ass thing broke and I jammed my finger.  Please note the unfortunate thing is that I hurt my hand, not that the stupid thing broke.  I just want to be clear about that.  While I was cussing up a storm, Laverne came to check out the commotion and to pay her respects to the monstrosity.

While I feel bad that the dogs can't play "Queen of the Mountain" anymore, I'm glad that remnant of my past is leaving my now happy home.  Now it is sitting on my curb and the people prowling for curbside treasure keep slowing down to look.  I don't know why they don't want to take it with them (said with much sarcasm).

So long, stupid styrofoam rock.  Hope to never see you again.

*Ironically, last night I ran into my friend that a certain someone claimed asked him to bring home the monstrosity so he could pick it up later from our house.  I told him that Sunday was his last chance to claim this "prize".  However, his wife was in earshot and told him that he wasn't allowed to bring it home.  He tried to convince her why it would be a good thing to have, she did not change her mind.  I can't say that I blame her one bit.

what a bummer

I've spent the past week of my life in utter turmoil.  Mostly because everything in my house has placed in stacks in the middle of my rooms.  I haven't been able to really cook or clean or do laundry this whole time because the entire inside of my house was being painted.  Every morning I took the dogs to my parents house and then picked them up after work.  How you people with kids don't just die of exhaustion, I'll never know.  The painters basically finished today and I like that my walls aren't all nasty and dingy.  The rest of my house is all nasty and dingy because I've had painters in it for a week, but the walls aren't all nasty and dingy any more.  I guess I have a lot of house cleaning in my future.  But I was really bummed out when I discovered that they splattered paint all over my shower curtain, tub, sink, and my fantastic 1950s bathroom tile.  Then I discovered that most of my blinds have been booby trapped because they fall off on my head when I try to adjust them.  It is after 11:00 pm and there is still a huge stack of stuff on my bed.  I'm exhausted and I need to go to bed.  I'm thinking about crying, but I'm just too fucking tired.  Also?  It turns out the color I picked for the bedroom looks like shit with my carpet.  Yay, me!

I won! I won! I won!

Shirley writes a book

All month Laverne has devoted herself to my nanowrimo project.  She has tirelessly slept on my feet or with her head next to my lap anytime I sat down to write.  But Shirley was feeling really left out and upped the game last night.  For a while she was too helpful (you just can't write with a 60 pound dog sitting on you like you're a lazy boy recliner), but she finally took her helpfulness down a notch and curled up on my legs.  Once I got out from underneath her, I was still trapped on the couch so I put a pillow on the dog and set my laptop on top.  Laverne then took her cue to crash out on my feet.  It wasn't the most comfortable thing, but I managed about 1500 words written like this until she started peaking her head from under the pillow.  That is when I took this picture:

My NaNoWriMo Progress

I haven't posted anything on my blog all month because I have been super busy devising new projects to undertake this month (such as furniture painting, working in the yard, cleaning my house, volunteering to be waterboarded).  Er, I mean, that I'm writing a book in one month.  Anyway, I decided in an attempt to procrastinate, I mean update you on my status, I'm posting this word count widget.  Enjoy!

428 words

That is all I wrote today.  So of course, I'm going to blog instead.  My wires are seriously all strung up the wrong way.  I could be writing about aliens.  Or sleeping.  Instead I'm writing my excuse for why I did not get cracking on my crazy ass train wreck of a novel.
1.  I'm jet lagged from the time change.  Not really, I'm just lazy because it gets dark early.
2. I had to drive to the Costco (on fumes apparently because the tank was completely empty) so I could look at everything in the place and then spend way too much money.  I have to eat while I'm making my fingers bleed and developing carpal tunnel syndrome, right?
3.  Then my house was too dirty to be in.  I vacuumed, did some dishes, washed some laundry.  It is still messy, but it doesn't smell like dirty dog and mud from all the rain.
4.  I had to pull weeds in my yard.  Actually, I really did.  These prickly ass weeds are giving my dog such a bad rash that she has bald spots.  And frankly, Laverne is more important than aliens.
5.  To help me out, the Pineapple Parents offered to come and pick up their Costco goods to save me a trip.  Instead their car overheated (because there was a big fucking hole and all the coolant leaked out of the car which we discovered after I went to the store to buy distilled water which all poured out on the driveway) and I had to take them home.
5.  The Pineapple Dad had not been shopping and I needed more shit from the grocery store.  I just can't eat 20 heads of lettuce before they go bad.  Somethings are better bought in smaller quantities.  Hence, second shopping trip of the day.
6.  After dropping the Pineapple Dad back at his house, I headed home.  After learning the tow truck was coming in the next hour I decided that I should eat.  Yummmy.  I call my creation Pepper Pizza.  It had yellow bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, and crushed red pepper (and also some sauce, basil, and cheese).
7.  After the car was towed away, I decided that if I have clean sheets that the girls and I should get clean too.  Also? My coworkers probably like me better if I don't come to work with plant life in my hair and dirt on my face.
8.  Then I crawled in bed and wrote 428 words.  And then bitched about it on my blog.

Symphony of Crickets

Holy Hell.  What am I thinking?  I can't even manage to blog on a regular basis and I think I'm going to write a whole freaking novel in a month?!?!  That is just hilarious.  NaNoWriMo starts in a matter of hours and I have a title (Symphony of Crickets) and maybe a general idea of what I'm going to write.  Sort of.  Maybe.  Or not.  I mean, I have hours to decide how it starts, right?

I'm thinking it is going to be a Sci-fi/Romance/Thriller/Comedy/TRAINWRECK.  Kind of like Bubba Ho-Tep  meets Mars Attacks! with a splash of love interest.  And with Buddy Holly (hence the crickets) instead of Elvis and the aliens aren't from Mars (or maybe they are).  Obviously I plan on writing an original novel that is going to be an award winning, best seller.  And then they are going to make it into a summer blockbuster and show it at the IMAX.  Also? It is going to be an Oprah Book Club Pick (this is out of the ordinary because my book will not be depressing).  That is how good it is going to be.  Yep.  And I am going to write this groundbreaking novel in one month.

nails are expensive

I really need a chaperone to go to the Home Depot.  I went there to get nails so I could put up my Halloween decorations.  I did get the nails, but I have yet to put up any Halloween decorations.  For one thing, I had to put my new lime tree in its new bright, lime green pot.

Since I was taking pictures, I went ahead and took yet another set of garden pictures.  My broccoli and brussels sprouts are coming along nicely.

My lettuce is already yummy (I snuck a little nibble), the radishes are huge on top (but not so much underneath), and the bell peppers are starting to take off (but I'm pretty sure I planted them too late to expect any thing good to come of it).

My pumpkins are still alive...

And blooming.  But no actual gourds have started growing...

My little pot of lettuce has started growing so I will have more lettuce after I eat the first round.

My basil variety pack is looking good too..

But my cilantro is not.

Oh well.  I guess not everything is going to stay alive...

Keeping it classy!

...but you might not want to get behind this guy.

here comes megatron

Meet Megatron.  Megatron lives next door.  And ever since I moved in, Megatron has pretty much avoided me.  Recently, Megatron has started approaching me, but then changing her mind at the last minute and running away.  But for the past few weeks, Megatron has started throwing herself at my feet and winding herself around and round my legs.  I have never once petted this cat.  Why would I need to when she does all the work, right?

However, Megatron does not like Laverne and Shirley.  And she used to run away when they barked.  But that too changed this weekend.  I think it was the peacocks that did it.  Because the weather has been nice I've been opening the windows and leaving the doors open.  The other morning, there was chaos in the kitchen because Megatron was yowling to be let in the screen door and the girls were barking wildly to be let out.  It wasn't until the peacock incident that I realized that they were also torturing poor Megatron in the front yard, too.  Those peacocks were all over the place.  The girls chased six of them out of the backyard.  One was on the roof honking for about thirty thrilling minutes.  There was also a herd wandering around in the front yard.  Most of the time Megatron does that whole arching back, hissing thing when the girls bark at her.  But she has gotten a little bolder.  I guess near peacock death experiences do that for a cat.  Like today.  Megatron jumped on top of my car where the girls could see her and just stood there.  Finally Laverne couldn't take it anymore and started barking and barking and barking.  Megatron didn't even flinch.  And tonight.  Megatron came calling through the kitchen screen door.  Shirley was resting comfortably on the couch and Laverne was in her blanket cocoon under the coffee table.  Damned if those dogs didn't go flying out the back door to bark at that cat some more after I shut the door.

It is like I live in a lunatic wildlife asylum.  I have two nutty dogs, Megatron, the other cat next door that taps on the glass to torment the dogs, exotic lizards, skunks, hawks, and peacocks.  I guess I should be thankful that there aren't lions and tiger running around this place, too.

victory (garden)!

First, let's take a look at those pumpkins:

Notice how they always look the same?  See how they don't seem to be getting much bigger?   Looks like I am looking at having mature pumpkins in about 2012 at this rate...

But my radishes as lettuce are looking good.  Also, my bell peppers are starting to sprout.

And my newest addition -- broccoli and brussels sprouts!

And cilantro

And my basil bonanza (I have sweet basil, lemon basil and thai basil):

But I will always be a pineapple princess:

so long, kitty

When I first brought you home in when I was a senior in high school, you loved me beyond anything else and would cry when I left you alone. Then one day I was taking you to my room and you saw a plastic lei hanging on my door and you attacked my face. You never felt the same way about me after that. I can't say that I really ever got over having my face clawed.  After the incident, you stopped crying when I left the room and you didn't want to snuggle at night anymore. Then I moved to a place you weren't allowed to live in so I left you with my parents. Despite the attack, I didn't really want to leave you behind.  But I did.  And then you became completely and absolutely obsessed with my dad. You also grew to hate my mom after she dropped a glass too close to you. By the time I lived in a place where you could come live with me, you loved my dad so much that it would have been wrong to move you.

Over the years you were mostly an unfriendly cat to the world at large. When company came to visit you would disappear somewhere in the house. We never did figure out where you went, so we just called it Narnia.  I guess we will never figure out where Narnia is now.

Other than my dad, you had a true love for the family Airedale, Winston. You would demand that we let him in the house so the two of you could hang out and take naps together. After he died, you threw fits at the backdoor for months demanding that we let him in the house. And you never forgave the new dog for taking his place. Astro was never your dog. After Winston was gone, your obsession with my dad grew to new heights. You started demanding he get up and keep you company in the middle of the night and anytime he sat down you were instantly on him trying to get in his face.

And then one day you got nice again. Maybe you had a stroke?  You came out to visit company. You forgave me and my mom for our past transgressions.  You someotime were happy to see me when I cam over.  You even enjoyed taunting Laverne when I brought the girls to visit Astro.  But you never really liked Astro because, well, he was never your dog. You only tolerated him or tried to get him in trouble.  Oh well, you can't like everyone. 

Over the past 19 years, you have been an unusual cat. Your relationship with most of the world was complicated and usually involved blood shed at some point. But we all loved you and will miss you. I hope you enjoy your adventures in Narnia forever more.

dear santa

Today the Neiman Marcus Christmas Book came out.  And so why would be care about the Needless Markup catalogue?  I can tell you why in two words: CUPCAKE CARS.  You heard me.  Cupcake cars.  This is totally what I want for Christmas.  And I want a whole fleet of cupcake cars.  Really, what would be the fun if you were driving a cupcake car on your own?  I mean silly cars that have a matching hat are fun and all, but it would be way more fun with a friend or ten.  When I saw the cupcake cars, I called the Pineapple Dad and made him promise that if he won the lottery he would buy this for me.  At first he questioned why I would want a fleet of cupcake cars, let alone a fleet of cupcake cars.  And then he saw the videos on youtube.  And he agreed that if either one of won the lottery, we are getting a fleet of cupcake cars.  Still doubting that cupcakes are super awesome?  Check this out:



If this doesn't convince you that a cupcake car party would rock your world, then something is wrong with the way you are wired.  Seriously.  

yankee, doodle and dandy

I know I've done a spotty job of keeping you up to date with my pumpkins.  But don't worry I have pictures.  Hell, I even took some while I had the flu.  Not that I remember doing that, but it seems I did.  I'll be posting highlights later this week.  Apparently, I was really into photographing pumpkins, radishes, and lettuce in my fevered state.  Also? I took quite a few pictures of my dogs.  I guess that would be normal if I only remembered doing it...  Anywho, I'm getting off the topic here.

When I started my pumpkin seeds (the second time), I planted a whole bunch just to be sure.  And then they all grew.  So I promised the Pineapple Dad that he could have whatever I didn't plant.  As the weeks went by he would call to check on his pumpkin plant.  He even named it.  Pumpkin Doodle.  Seriously.  I'd pick up the phone and the first thing I'd hear was, "How's Pumpkin Doodle?"  There were several calls where checking on Pumpkin Doodle was the sole purpose for calling me.  Don't worry about how I'm doing.

You may recall that I mentioned my original plan was to dump a pile of dirt in my "garden" and see what happened.  Clearly, that did not happen.  So after my gardening extravaganza I was left with three pumpkin plants.  I called the Pineapple Dad to let him know what to expect and he was thrilled.  And they all have names now: Pumpkin Yankee (the northern most pumpkin plant), Pumpkin Doodle, and Pumpkin Dandy.  And so what did he do when I took them over?  Dumped a pile of dirt on the ground and stuck them in there.

flu-b-gone

Look, I don't know if what I had was swine flu.  Or H1N1.  Or whatever the cool kids are calling it these days.  But it was the flu.  And it was a motherfucker.  I decided not to visit the doctor for a few reasons.  For one thing, I was too sick to drive my sick ass there.  I live alone and who wants to be trapped in the car with someone that clearly has cooties.  Also?  There are sick people at the doctor's office.  I had enough on my plate without being exposed to strange germs just to have a nurse shove a q-tip up my nose to see if I have the flu.  Dude.  I had the flu.  Luckily, I also had a prescription of Tamiflu in my medicine cabinet.  I admit it, I hoard shit.  Not like get your guns ready for the Armageddon kind of hoarding, but I like to keep a stocked pantry and medicine cabinet kind of hoarding.

But it wasn't until I started getting better that I realized how bad off I was.  For one thing, I took some extra doses of Tamiflu along the way and finished early.  Oops.  I also made a double batch of jell-o that I don't remember making at all.  I walked into the kitchen to get a ginger ale and there were two open jello boxes on the counter and a pan of jell-o in the fridge.  Don't get me wrong, I was glad it was there.   But really? Jell-o?  There were some things that got moved around in my house.  I guess I'm lucky I didn't rearrange the furniture in my fevered state.

I also got very bored.  I cleared out my DVR.  I didn't have any books I wanted to read.  And how much time can you really stand to spend on Twitter haranguing people for their complete inability to fact-check a story before publishing it?  Frankly, I found out more than the local newspaper or that hip wannabe website ever did in five minutes sitting on my couch with a raging fever.  But that jell-o turned out to be one of the most interesting things going on at my house.  It wiggles and jiggles, after all.  But your standards for what constitutes entertainment hit a new low when you are holed up like a fugitive in your home for a week.  Technically, I'm better now.  I'm still worn out and all I want to do is stay home and sleep.  Hopefully this will pass because I don't think I can handle another weekend of staring at my wall that really need to be painted.

why dogs don't make you feel better

As I wallow in my misery, I realized that the love my dogs have for me doesn't always make me feel better.  Mostly because they do things like:

1. Steal the blankets.  When I dragged my flu suffering ass home from work and on to the couch yesterday, the first thing that Laverne did was steal my blanket.  So I got another one.  And she stole that one too.  How many blankets does this dog need to get under?  And how can a not-so-swift dog get the better of me over and over?  I'm the one with the thumbs!  Pathetic.

2.  Wake you up in the middle of the night because they want to be talked to and patted on the head.  Seriously.  I woke up because Shirley was staring at me.  Four inches away from my face.  Creepy much? When I opened my eyes her tail started furiously thumping on the bed.  I thought she needed to out so I got up out of bed.  But she just sat there looking at me like I was the crazy one.  I muttered an obscenity under my breath and her tail started going crazy again.  This is when I realized she woke me up so I could talk to her.  I thought I had two dogs so they could keep one another company.

3.  Wake you up at 6:30 in the morning demanding to be let out and fed.  Frankly, I expected more from Laverne because she is notorious for wanting to sleep in.  But not today.  I woke up to her howling at the back door.  Howling.  The dog has never howled.  Ever.  Until 6:30 this morning.

4.  Panic when it starts raining.  I feel like I've been hit by a ton of bricks.  I'm hot.  I'm cold. I hurt all over.  I do not want 100 plus pounds of dog on my lap and in my face.

pineapple plants a pumpkin patch

You may recall that in July I claimed to become a pumpkin farmer. Well, a few weeks into the pumpkin growing, I took my sweet little plants outside for a good soak.  And then I forgot to bring them back in.  They died a tragic, heat related death.  So, I planted a new batch-o-pumpkins.  After weeks of tending to my plants and a week of acclimating them to the outdoors, today was the big day.

When I started, I have a weedy, unruly patch of yard that I blocked off last year.  I never got around to building beds for a garden.

First I need to back up the story.  There once was a HUGE tree in my backyard.  It was probably one of the oldest elm trees in the neighborhood.  However, we have been in a drought for the past two years and had extreme heat this summer.  This lovely tree dropped a huge limb on my roof and slowly began to die.  I had the tree taken down.

And then I had the tree guys turn it into mulch and leave it in the front yard.  Much to my neighbor's dismay, it has been sitting in that huge pile for over a month.  Come on!  It has been too hot to do anything with it.

My original plan was to dump so dirt piles in my weedy patch and see who would win - the pumpkins or the weeds.  But I just couldn't do it.  So I went back to my original plan that never came to fruition.  So I started by using the old newspapers to act as a weed barrier.

And then I put a whole bunch of mulch around the beds to cover up the pretty, pretty newspaper.

And then I put a whole bunch of dirt and compost in the beds and mixed it up.  And I built some mounds for the plants and covered that with even more mulch.

Bring in the pumpkins...

And then I put 'em in the dirt and watered them real good, like.

Now I just have to finish the other half of my garden to put in some other veggies I picked up at the garden center when I went to get more dirt.  Tomorrow I take the rest of the pumpkin plants to the Pineapple Parents for their pumpkin patch.  I am a gardening fool.

Do You Know How Much I Love My Dogs?

So much that when I accidentally bought salmon dog food, I still fed it to them.  Besides wondering how much I spoil my dogs, you may wonder why this is a sign of my love?  First, I freely admit that my dogs eat much better than I do.  Hell, no one puts a spoonful of yummy canned dog food on my kibble every night.  Or a dollop of yogurt on my morning kibble.  Not that I'd want that, but I think of it as like if someone gave you a salad and then put a whole bunch of ranch dressing on it.  I'd like the salad much better.  So here's where the love comes in.  I am violently allergic to salmon and the smell of it makes me want to hurl.  When I was putting the cans in the pantry and I saw that I grabbed a can of nasty salmon, I considered just throwing it away.  Then I thought that was wasteful and decided to exchange it for something not so gross.  Then I got lazy.  But today I got brave.  And while I didn't hurl, I'm not hungry for dinner anymore.  Maybe this is a new diet plan because you could offer me all the ranch, mayonnaise, butter, bacon, and fried whatever and I'd still turn it down.