Archive for July, 2012


So remember when I actually used to write blog posts? Me neither. So here’s some nonsense. You’re absolutely encouraged to steal these and make them your own, as I did.

A. Why my last relationship ended:

Well I’ve only had the one. But if it ends, it’ll be something spectacular. Most likely I’ll finally go really nuts and try to throw Lobsterface off a tall building, but I won’t be able to, because, you know, he’s all muscly and giant, so in the struggle I’ll probably fall off myself. I hope I pop like a water balloon or True Blood vampire.

B. Favourite band:
OMG YOU GUYS. I hate this question so much. I don’t have a favorite band, I have favorite songs and they change almost weekly. What I really hate is when I find a song I can’t stop listening to and I think to myself, “Self, you should look up this artist and see what else they’ve been up to.” And then everything else they’ve ever done just sucks. Ugh. Someone recommend good bands. I like catchy hooks and singable melodies. Get on that.

C. Who I like and why I like them:
I like YOU, gentle reader. Because you read my blog. Bless your heart. Also, I’m sorry.

D. Hardest thing I’ve ever been through:
Anxiety disorder is a bitch, yo. And depression lies.

E. My best friend:
Well, I have a few, but the one who’s been around the longest is brilliant and insane. I’m trying to convince her to start her own blog. I’ll keep you posted.

F. My favourite movie:
You’ve Got Mail. The world lost a treasure when Nora Ephron died this year. Also, Tom Hanks is simply adorable. And A League Of Their Own, again, because Tom Hanks is adorable.

G. Sexual orientation:
Mostly straight with a healthy helping of girl crushes.

H. Do I smoke/drink?
Depends, are you my mother and/or my doctor?

I. Have any tattoos or piercings?
I have 3 tattoos, at the moment, and 4 piercings. If I didn’t work at a conservative religious institution, I’d seriously consider getting my dimples pierced.

J. What I want to be when I get older:
A freelancer who only works on what she wants to work on, and gets paid obscenely well for it. Or the voice of a cartoon character.

K. Relationship with my parents:
Sometimes they forget I’m a grownup. It’s gotten better since I got married, though. For the most part.
But then again, sometimes I forget I’m a grownup. Like on Red Wine and Gummy Bears nights. I’m all, “WOOO! I LOVE GUMMY BEARS!” And then like, “Yes, yes, this wine does have a lovely bouquet. I do appreciate the undertones of rosewood and vanilla.”

L. One of my insecurities:
Well, one of the more dire ones includes the flatness of my butt. It’s quite concerning.

M. Virgin or not?
Not since that unfortunate incident with the…you know what? Nevermind. Nope, not a virgin.

N. Favourite place to shop?
Dick’s Sporting Goods. lolz…just kidding. I don’t know how to sports.

O. My eye colour:
Green. Like grass. Or corgi puke after he’s eaten grass.

P. Why I hate school:
You all know I’m twenty-seven, right?

Q. Relationship status as of right now:

R. Favourite song at the moment:
Fat Bottomed Girls by Queen. I’m not even kidding, I crank that shit up and bellow.

S. A random fact about myself:
I cry for no apparent reason. Like, country songs about dads or old couples, Hallmark commercials, displays of patriotism, you name it. It’s ridiculous.

T. Age I get mistaken for:
It really depends on how I’m dressed. At work, people think I’m older, but if I’m wearing my booty shorts, I get carded trying to hire prostitutes vote.

U. Where I want to be right now:
Right between these two upstanding gentlemen. Heh, upstanding.

V. Last time I cried:
Today. Sometimes people suck. A lot.

W. Concerts I’ve been to:
I’ve been to a few, ranging from epicness like Rebecca St. James’ debut tour and Nickelback to less-awesome ones like high-school band concerts.

X. What would you do if (…)?
If you suddenly stopped talking in the middle of a sentence? I’d assume there was a werewolf behind me and duck so that it would bite you instead of me. Because I’m a GOOD FRIEND, dammit.

Y. Do you want to go to college:
No. I did that once. Unless I go back to grad school, which sometimes I think about doing. Except I’m SO lazy. Hmm.

Z. How are you?
Sad and angry but also amused by the gentle comedy of How I Met Your Mother.


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I couldn’t sleep last night, so in the middle of the night, I got up and cut myself bangs. As one does. This conversation happened when I crawled back into bed.

Me: “HUFF”

Lobsterface: “What’s wrong, love?”

Me: “I just cut myself bangs and I think it was a mistake.”

Lobsterface: “Can I see?” pulls out cell phone and turns on the flashlight feature because that’s easier than actually turning on the lamp. Apparently.

Me: “You could turn on the lamp, you know.”

Lobsterface: peers at me, all squinty like, as if I’m a beetle on a pin “…meh, I’ll still make out with you.” turns off flashlight, rolls over, goes to sleep.

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I routinely murder house plants for no discernable reason. Granted, sometimes it’s because I forget to water them for weeks at a time, but sometimes I do water them (I DO. Shut up.) and they still die. Apparently, Lobsterface has been trying to murder most of the plants around our house since he moved in seven years ago, but so far he’s been unsuccessful. When I moved in, he had high hopes that my toxicity to indoor plants would naturally affect the outdoor plants as well, but so far they seem to be surviving just fine, despite the gallons of bleach he pours on them every year.

Don’t tell the DEC.

At some point, we (or maybe just I) would like to turn our forest of a backyard into an actual yard where one can sit with a cup of coffee and a book, or with friends around the fire pit we’re someday going to get around to. Here’s what it looks like right now. Ignore that blurry corgi in the foreground.


See? Plenty of not-dead foliage. I’m really hoping that my black thumb doesn’t infect the lovely little hydrangea bushes that we just planted.

so perky

We started out with an empty, boring stretch of lawn next to our back steps, the steps we most often use for going in and out of the house. Originally, we bought four plants and planned to put 2 on either side of the steps, but neither of us are super awesome at pre-planning and measuring things, so, when we got home, we noticed that the window AC unit we keep in the kitchen dumps it’s water right there next to the steps. And full-grown hydrangea bushes are about four feet wide and tall, so we didn’t want the AC unit and the plants fighting over space.


So, we just planted one to the left of the steps and planted the others along the wall on the other side. Here are all the pretty hydrangeas, waiting for their new home.


So pretty.

so pretty

I planted them one-by-one, I didn’t dig a bunch of holes and then plant them all. I don’t know if that needed to be explained, but I don’t get paid for short blog posts. I don’t get paid for long blog posts, either, but that’s neither here nor there.

So! First I measured about two feet from the steps.


Then I dug me a hole a bit deeper and about twice as wide as the root ball of my first hydrangea plant.


I found a worm, but I didn’t take any pictures of him/her (get it? because earthworms are hermaphroditic? Sigh, I amuse me.). Here’s the plant in the hole. I didn’t leave the little plastic bucket on there forever, it’s just easier to see the size of the root ball in relation to the size of the hole (that’s what she said) this way. I think that some plants come in biodegradable buckets that you can just plant, but these did not.


Next, I took the dirt that I’d dug up and mixed in some “all purpose, natural fertilizer”, which was basically cow poo and compost. It didn’t smell like cow poo, which actually disappointed me a little. I grew up on a dairy farm, and cow poo is still one of my favorite smells. Neville agrees with me, Lobsterface does not.


And then I filled in the hole. There are just too many That’s What She Said joke opportunities in this post about holes, so I’m going to go ahead and let you come up with your own. You may submit them in the comments.

filled in

Then I did the same thing with the other three plants.

all done

more all done

Nevill thinks he helped by barking a ton. I don’t know, maybe there were evil squirrels waiting to attack me the whole time, and the only reason I’m still alive is that they were afraid of my ferocious dog.

guard corg

I put little marble pebbles at the base of each plant, but I didn’t take pictures of that part.

After I let them settle in for a few hours, I went out to check on them again. A couple of the plants were pretty sad-looking, but the one in the shade was doing fantastic, so I set up this awning thing using an old bedsheet and some sawhorses. Like a boss.



I thought I’d killed them right off the bat, but in the cool of the next morning, they looked way better, so I think they’ll be ok. I didn’t take a picture of that either. Sorry.

Finally, I gave Neville many kisses for being my assistant/body guard. He hasn’t murdered me for it yet, so that’s good, I guess.


Does anyone have any advice for me about keeping these lovelies alive?

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