Cousin Joe: The twenty-first century has reached the Northeast Kingdom.
T: I'll believe it when there's cell service.
Cousin Joe: The Vermont Country Store is offering marital aids now.
T: ...
Me: What's the "Vermont Country Store"?
T: Wholesome Yankee products for the wholesome Yankee home.
Cousin Joe: Or it used to be.
T: What's unwholesome about marital aids? Marriage! We believe in it! It's as American as apple pie.
Me: *does not make American Pie joke.*
T: *kicks me under the table anyway*
Cousin Joe: It has to be. Everybody else has given up on it.
T: Even the Quebecois.
Me: I would think resourceful Yankees would, you know. Improvise. Be resourceful.
Cousin Joe: We would. That's the problem--
T: Too many ER visits about that cell phone that won't come when you call it. So to speak. Practical Yankee says, "If we just provide people with a discreet way to shop for things with flanges--"
Me: They wouldn't have to make up some story about slipping in the shower and falling on their cell phone?
Cousin Joe: You know, if it were me, I would just 'fess up. You know, you'll get less hazing if you just walk--
T: --hobble--
Me: You can actually walk okay once it's all the way inserted. This is professional knowledge, not personal.
Cousin Joe: ...as long as you're out there, would you bring me back another beer? --less hazing, as I was saying, if you just walk in and tell the admitting nurse "You know, I was trying to reach that special place and I kind of lost control of the situation. Next time I'll use something with a flared base."
Me: They might give you a sticker for being so brave and honest.
Cousin Joe: It's not so bad for you girls. You can just slide a cucumber into a condom, rock and roll, and be reasonably certain of getting it back.
T: Cucumbers are really too fat, by my lights. The cross section is a little hefty.
Me: And this year, with all the rain? They're huge.
Cousin Joe: Unless you use one of those skinny English ones.
T: Some of them have prickers. And they're kind of brittle.
Cousin Joe: And that is why the Vermont Country Store now offers vibrators. Safety first! It's the Yankee way.
T: Well, you know, in New England you can buy cock rings next to the condoms in CVS now.
Me: Really?
T: Only the rubber ones.
Cousin Joe: They're condom retainers. Stuff shrinks when it's cold.

*quoted with permission

Oh, look. A coastal flood watch.

*joy*

He's eating pink lumpy sugar that smells like fish.

They do not PAY me enough to sit in this office.

Witches For Darwin!

I think the next time I have to visit Florida, I'm going to bring my own food and sleep on the plane, just to avoid contributing to the local economy in any fashion whatsoever. They rely a lot on tourism dollars, the last time I checked.

Equal rights now.

"In winter, the climbers return to the indoor walls like the swallows to Capistrano."

"He's got these little stubby fingers. That's the only reason they don't-boom!-just snap off when he does that."
"Yeah, he got captured by the mob this one time and they were gonna break his fingers, but he wouldn't tell them anything."
"You'll get no beta from me, Nunzio!"

"I'll be upstairs watching Lost. Call me if you need to go to the hospital."

"Neil's 5.8--"
"A Neil 5.8 is a 5.10."
"Whereas one of mine is really just a 5.9. See? It's easy."

"Shit! Gravity Works!"

"What you have there is beautiful specimen of a hematoma. Also, your nail's going to fall off in a couple of weeks now."

"I can't get my foot off the ground. What is with this?"
"Is it stuck?"
"To the carpet?"
"Stranger things have happened."

"You know, it's totally the shoes. I can't stick that in my 5.10s."
"What are those?"
"La Sportiva."
"You know, the 5.10s are supposed to be stickier."
"The map is not the territory. That's all I'm saying."

"Why am I sitting when I could be lying down now?"

"Why do we do this again?"
"It's fun."
"No, that's not it."
"For the endorphins?"
"For the shoulders."

Also, hey. Did you know I'm now legally married?

Nothing like coming home from nearly a week on the road to get in a few quality hours on a rock face.

"If I'd known there was a sport where I could lie on the floor and people would lower shirtless boys at me, I would have signed up years earlier."

"Everybody got off the pitch safely, but then five climbers broke their ankles on the way down the approach."

"That big black X means don't use that hold. It's not safe."
"That big black X has been there for twenty years."
"Maybe we've had it wrong all this time, and it's really a treasure map."
"You mean like--ROCK! Ooops, BULLION!"

"Falling!"
"Fall away."
(that one never gets old)

"So if he knocks the cliff down on us, I'll duck under that overhang. Worthy, you step behind that tree, and... (to Tasha, who was halfway up a 5.10 at the time), I'm sorry, you're on your own. Try to surf it."

"So what the hell do I do about this roof here?"
"Try being Tasha. She didn't have any trouble with it."

"Hey, Mike, I guess I should have told you about the cut in the rope."
"Just one? Yeah, well, that's okay then."
"Yeah, it's not like it's gonna break in two places."
(There really was no cut in the rope. Bushy was just being Bushy)

"That thing on your left is called a foothold."

I'm sorry I was late to work today.

A bunny ate my homework the cord on my alarm clock.

Love,

trollcatz

Is it wrong to covet the hot air balloon lamp? And the drunken vodka glasses?

*TM Amanda Fucking Palmer

 

Hey, ace_cub_reportr--

No, you can't believe your eyes.

Upon experiment, not sure how I feel about that....

Maybe I did it wrong.

First, read this.

Then, assemble one of these.

Third, get plenty of rest and exercise, drink fluids, eat nutritious food,  and handwash, handwash, handwash. Your flu vaccination (which you got, right?) will not protect you from this one. If you get sick, call your doctor (if you have a doctor) and stay home. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.

Don't panic.

(Note large friendly yellow letters.)

No, you cannot get the swine flu from eating pork or from going out in the cold.

The "good" news is, all the known deaths so far are in Mexico, and cases reported elsewhere seem "mild" (as mild as flu gets, meaning, not requiring hospitalization (ETC: One US case required hospitalization)). Which may mean that there's a second, opportunistic infection piling in in Mexico City (though that's total speculation on my part) or it may mean something else entirely.

*political commentary about the lack of current heads for certain relevant government agencies redacted*

1) Friday night: arrive home safe, if tired, from Extensive Journeying. Greeted at door by spouse, who is holding something behind her back. Do not get hug, because whatever she's holding behind her back is... squirming.

Say, "Honey?"

Spouse says, "Don't be mad."

Spouse then produces a small black and white squirming thing that bears absolutely no resemblance to the First Dog, other than utter cuteness. In fact, it's not even a dog. Nor, despite the fact that it is white with a black face, feet, and ears, is it a Siamese cat. It has long floppy ears and a little spotted nose and it looks distinctly... disapproving.

Say, "You got a... bunny?"

Spouse says, "He's a baby Himalayan and he can be housebroken and he won't get very big and he likes people and--"

Say, "Somebody in the Department was giving them away and you've wanted a bunny since you were twelve?"

Spouse says, "Six."

Say, "What's his name?"

Spouse says, "UmTiger."

"Tiger?"

Spouse nods.

Reflect that Spouse is even cuter than the rabbit. Say, "Okay, but you have to take him for walks."

---

Saturday morning: Wake up early to doorbell. Open door to find itinerant monotreme co-worker bearing bagels, cream cheese, lox, capers, mysteriously decent tomatoes, red onions, mangos, strawberries.

Say "STRAWBERRIES!"

Notice calculating expression on monotreme's face as you dive upon the strawberries, still in your pajamas. Usher him into the still-half-disassembled kitchen anyway, to show off the working sink. Hand bagels and cream cheese and lox and trimmings to spouse for assembly. Mouth full of strawberries, ask monotreme "So what's the occasion?"

Monotreme, who is currently leaning over the (working!) sink sucking the leftover pulp off a mango seed with his eyes closed in bliss, takes his time finishing. "Well," he says, "I'm meeting Tasha and Keck at Catwalk, and I figured you probably wanted a day home with Spouse, but I figured the least I could do was drop by and say hi and let you know we were going."

Say, "You exist to torment me," simultaneous with Spouse saying, "I know where she keeps the guns."

Monotreme says, "Hey! Is that a bunny? Do bunnies like strawberries?"

Decide that now would be a good time to make coffee.

---

Saturday afternoon: Picnic in the park, complete with takeout chicken and a personal watermelon. Get a sunburn. Bliss.

Come home to your bunny.

---

Sunday morning: Sleep until noon.

---

In conclusion: best weekend ever.

...since the subject came up.

Gotta go with the Catholics on this one. They have a better sense of humor. (NB: Tongue in cheek warning. Via joeboo_k)

Also, time traveler's cheat sheet, via el_jefe.

So why am I sore in different places after yesterday's expedition Outside?

But it was awesome. New route (for me, anyway) on Old Rag. It was tough and tricky and I had three utterly embarrassing flail sections in spite of excellent Platypus advice, but at last I triumphed, like this: ! And was so full of adrenaline that we had to go throw ourselves at a bouldering problem downslope, which I fell off halfway up, which, for some reason, was hysterically funny. To me, anyway. But this is my journal, so it's, you know, about me. *g*

And I sunburned my nose. So it's totally spring, and I am a Happy Harpy.

Good thing, too, since the house is demolished. Well, partially. Mighty Contractor J adores the Platypus; she says if he ever gets tired of shooting at things, he can come work for her. She also regrets that neither T. nor I are as tall as Platypus, since we have high ceilings. She says it's wasted on us. *g* During the planning meeting they bounced around our intact-if-inadequate kitchen like kids with new Legos. MCJ has figured out how to re-use all the good 1950s solid birch cabinets (and where to rent the dumpster for the horrible fiberboard and laminate 1970s ones, presumably).

The refrigerator is plugged in in the dining room, and the microwave and the coffee maker sit beside it on a folding table. We won't starve. Yet.

Other Wisdom of MCJ:

1. Kitchen islands are a sub-optimal location for a range top. By definition, a lot of traffic moves around an island. Some of that traffic may be distracted, or may slip on a spinach leaf. Said traffic would be better off not running the risk of putting its hand down on a hot burner.

(I startled her by saying I'd once responded to three home emergency calls in one month that involved burns and kitchen island stoves. MCJ is not used to remodeling kitchens for AdventureSquad! members.)

2. You do not want a bigger kitchen. You want a kitchen two people can work comfortably in. After that, you want a more efficient kitchen. Bigger will only mean that the colander is always too damned far away.

3. Though you can have too many square feet, you cannot have too many electrical outlets. Or well-placed light sources.

4. Figure out where you'll spend the longest stretches of time in the kitchen, and put it where it has a view. We have a rowhouse, and no kitchen windows, so I figured this was a moot point. But MCJ gave me that "Don't make me slap you upside the head, Grasshopper" look and pointed out this is an open-plan remodel. The good view from the kitchen is into the dining room and living room. Oh, duh!

(She also worked out a totally sneaky way to get natural light into the kitchen via a skylight, even though the kitchen is on the first floor. It would add mondo bucks to the total cost, though, so we're holding off deciding on that 'til the last minute. We'll probably pass.)

Yes, there was dancing Friday. Our progress along the Trail of Clubs was interrupted only once: OMG unanticipated karaoke nightmare! We fled. *g*

I spend all day indoors looking at and thinking about yukky stuff. Which I don't mind, because I signed on to reduce the amount of yukky stuff, so it comes with the territory. But, it being April, I thought I'd take my lunch outside today. Kinda cool, a little overcast, but still, spring!

The cherry trees are blooming on the Mall. Hokey tourist stuff. They do it every year. Big deal.

Except they're beautiful.

I came back to work with a big stupid smile on my face and a petal stuck in my hair.

That is all.

Dude, nice forearms, but we really need to find you some clothes that fit:



(Tasha got a good one of me, too:

)

Damn, I want to take that lead climbing class. Unless you want to teach me? Huh? Huh? Huh?