tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205451092024-03-23T19:29:54.614+01:00stop looking at me!choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.comBlogger343125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-84675726126581051882013-08-07T08:31:00.000+02:002013-08-07T10:49:32.195+02:00Oh, look! A dream turned nightmare. When I was a kid, we would visit my grandmother in Trondheim every year. She lived in a small town outside of the city, in a pea green house. One thing that I vividly remember, is her lamps. She had these big, decorative lampshades that, to my young mind, looked like princess dresses. The kind of thing that's narrower on top and then flares out further down. I'm sure you've seen them. They also had tassels and frills and things. I used to stare at them for hours, wishing that I could wear them.<br />
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These days, I'm trying to find the perfect sort of a wedding dress. Just the other day, I came across this one:<br />
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After many, many years, I was presented with the opportunity to wear one of my grandmother's lampshades, but I find that the idea has lost its appeal.choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-24632381021270447002013-08-03T09:52:00.000+02:002013-08-03T09:52:27.945+02:00There goes my lifeWhen it comes to such things as birthday- and Christmas presents, I have the self-control of a small, retarded monkey. This is why the mister always hides my presents from me. So I was quite surprised when my birthday presents arrived the other day, and he just put them on a cupboard right next to my computer, where I was working at the time.<br />
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"Aren't you worried that I'll run amok and eat through the wrapping?" I said. </div>
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"Well, I'm not stopping you," he said. </div>
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Then he got in the shower, leaving me to sit and stare at the presents until my neck hurt and my eyeballs nearly fell out of my head, wishing that my present from last year had also contained x-ray vision. I didn't go grabbing on them, though. Well, I might have poked them a little. However, I did not try to make any peep-holes, which I think shows that I have really grown as a person, or something. </div>
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My self restraint lasted until just before lunch. The presents kept whispering at me, you see, and I couldn't really get anything constructive done while listening to that racket. Now I have myself a shiny, new 3DS. That kinda whispers at me, too. And the mister is happy because he gets his 3DS back. </div>
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And then I spent the whole rest of the day trying to work and play animal crossing at the same time. </div>
choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-3312045072297084712013-08-03T09:26:00.000+02:002013-08-03T09:26:38.400+02:00July WhatnotsI've already posted some of these. That's probably cheating. I was just really good at going places without a camera this month.<br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-26936795474671143542013-07-27T10:56:00.003+02:002013-07-27T10:56:55.892+02:00VacationessThat can be a word, right? Sure it can!<br />
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We went to Skagen on Monday and got home late last night. Skagen is a funny sort of a coastal town. For one thing, almost all the houses are yellow. I don't know what it was that made almost everyone paint everything that colour, but it's apparently referred to as "the yellow fever." It was nice and sunny. I wore a dress and was girly (autocorrect wanted to make that Gorky. What the hell?) the whole time. We stuffed ourselves with ice cream and pies and such. I have yet to see if my pants still fit... I might just save that for tomorrow. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BBQ glory. Whoever decided to make sausages full of cheese, needs to be awarded a something-or-other.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely fish restaurant on the harbour. Bonus: I feel very mature every time I eat at a fish restaurant. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le Harbour. I would love to have a boat. I just don't want to pay for one or take care of one. The mums have one. It's a moving target for seagulls. I figure that I have enough poop-maintenance from Pooch. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? Yellow. And white details. Pretty. That place has awesome coffee, by the way. </td></tr>
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-21120930849224477672013-07-19T19:43:00.001+02:002013-07-27T10:51:25.403+02:00Hello again!So my phone had what can, at best, be described as a mental meltdown and ate all my whatnot pictures and all of the blogposts I had on there. The line between smartphone and stupidphone can be very thin. And then I decided to have myself a summer vacation.<br />
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Now let's see...what have I been up to... Well, I've wrestled with out garden. I've planted roses and other stuff that smells nice. I practically almost have a tan! I did taxes for my business for the first time, which totally makes me a grown-up. I'm learning Japanese. This is mostly because I want to play those Japanese video games that are never translated, which might subtract from the grown-up thing just an itty bitty bit, but I figure that a Japanese-speaking me is still cooler than the version of me that only speaks a measly four-and-a-half languages, am I right or am I right? </div>
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And now, look at my (apparently sideways) garden! </div>
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-65840260245607486012013-05-24T16:56:00.001+02:002013-07-27T10:51:08.400+02:00Brain spinning like a topI have been dizzy for days and I have no idea why. Dumping a load of clean laundry in the bedroom and coming back downstairs, proved a bigger challenge than I had anticipated. First, I came careening out of the bedroom door, nearly managing to plug myself into the fuse box on the wall. I apparently don't do corners well today. Then, when I was coming down the stairs, my top half suddenly started to tip forwards and my feet had to go double-time to catch up with the rest of me.<br />
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I'm a bit like a drunk person, except I didn't get to party. It's horribly unfair. </div>
choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-17193665260815392032013-05-15T22:12:00.001+02:002013-05-15T22:14:43.361+02:00A little extreme, yet somewhat familiar<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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<br />choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-81825781406917620702013-05-03T15:03:00.000+02:002013-05-03T15:03:26.502+02:00I go tycoon! Or something... A couple of weeks ago, I registered my own business. The other day, I got my approval letter from the Powers That Be. Now I suddenly have an obsession with going to stores and looking at office supplies that I don't really need. <div>
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I just know that this enterprise will be a huge triumph, because I already have the two things that all offices need to succeed. First, there's my lucky stormtrooper. </div>
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His name is Dwayne and you might feel sorry for him, seeing how he is strapped by the neck to the speaker like that, but it's for his own good. He keeps trying to throw himself into Pooch's water bowl. Actually, he does look a bit depressed... Even a depressed stormtrooper can bring you luck, though. </div>
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The second thing, is my tardis mug. I mean, what isn't awesome about a Tardis mug? And it's almost as big as my head. I can fit enough whatever in there to last me through the entire day and have me running to the loo the whole evening. </div>
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You just wait and see; this is going to be huge! </div>
choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-48982348582236242672013-05-03T14:24:00.001+02:002013-05-03T14:24:29.276+02:00April Whatnots <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-65356143156137334632013-04-22T14:25:00.000+02:002013-04-22T14:25:38.843+02:00Thoughts and the circusOne day out of every year, Circus Mascot pitches their tent in the field right across the street from our house. They do their thing and then they disappear in the night, while everyone is sleeping. It's very mysterious and strangely fascinating. But anyway... Yesterday morning, I had the pleasure of observing Pooch experience a major WTF moment, as she looked out of the window and saw the circus tent and all the animals out in the field. It was pretty funny. I wish I had taken pictures. Her eyes grew to almost twice their usual size (alright, slight exaggeration), her jaw dropped very slowly, her ears went sorta slack. She looked like she was having a small stroke. Either that, or melting. Then her mouth snapped shut with a clacking sound, her ears pricked up and she pressed her nose against the glass (thanks for that, dog...)<br />
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No matter how deeply shocking she thinks the sudden appearance of a circus is, she always forgets about them fairly quickly. Every year, she is every bit as stunned as the year before. Pooch is real cute, but not always bright...choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-76219676916553854442013-04-10T17:15:00.001+02:002013-04-10T17:15:21.284+02:00I pretended that zombies were chasing me<br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-77466724312938311612013-04-03T13:45:00.000+02:002013-04-10T17:15:37.139+02:00The March WhatnotsA couple of weeks ago, I thought that this month would be easy when it came to pictures. I would just aim my phone at easter stuff and photograph my brains out. Then the mister brought some bug home from a seminar, and I spent the whole easter week all sick and stuffed up. We bought truckloads - or at least eggloads - of candy, and I couldn't tell the flavor of anything. One night, the mister made chili, and when that man cooks, he does it as if the apocalypse is set to happen tomorrow and he doesn't want the spices to go to waste. I still couldn't taste much, but it cleared my sinuses a little bit.<br />
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So what I'm trying to say, is that you're not getting a lot of pictures of easter things this month, but there's plenty of Pooch in there, as a filler.<br />
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<br />choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-68411619578444102222013-03-29T17:09:00.000+01:002013-04-10T17:15:48.432+02:00Easter mania!Back in the ol' country, we have our very own Easter tradition. One that I haven't seen anywhere else. It's one of those things that I've missed since I've moved to Denmark. I'm referring to the tradition of blood & gore. Every Easter, the Norwegian people gorge themselves, not only on sugary snacks, oranges and excessive skiing, but on horror and mystery, both on the screen and in books. The term is "Easter chills" and it's a very big deal. <br />
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When I was a kid, back when there were very few television channels, each channel would create their own Easter horror/mystery series, and there would be a vote at the of the holidays to see who did the best job. To many Norwegians, Easter is less about Jesus and more about murder and mayhem. And fluffy baby chickens. <br />
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Every year, the mister snickers a bit when I get my seasonal craze on, and start dragging branches into the house to be decorated with little, wooden bunnies, or when I start to make googly eyes at chickens-wearing-outfits table decorations. <br />
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And every year, we stuff two Easter eggs full of candy and hide them. I hide the misters egg and he hides mine (because I make him). Then I spend forever trying to find mine, becoming both tired and frustrated, while it takes him all of fifteen seconds to find his, no matter how brilliantly I've hidden it. <br />
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Every. Friggin. Year. <br />
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And yet, he won't be able to find his glasses if I move them ten inches to the right... <br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-50997275370705533912013-03-23T13:01:00.000+01:002013-04-10T17:16:01.947+02:00The anniversary hunting expedition, sortaThe mister and I had our third anniversary this week. Happy, happy, joy, joy. And we went to InSushi, which is my favourite restaurant out of all of the restaurants in the whole, entire world. <br />
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Do you want to know why?<br />
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Because, as you sit in your comfortable, red chair by your pretty table, all the food goes right by you on a little conveyor belt, on colourful little plates. What's not to love? It's almost like hunting, only you don't have to sit out in the woods for hours while pine needles dig their way into your ass. <br />
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Now the only question is; how fast can I nag the mister into going again? <br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-90214428740529536712013-03-18T18:33:00.001+01:002013-04-10T17:16:15.273+02:00Lonesome and sugaryThe mister has gone off to another seminar. He keeps insisting on learning stuff. I have this bad habit of mostly just eating sugar while he's away. Hopefully he'll come home before I get so big that I won't be able to make it out of the house.<br />
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Holy crab cakes, am I nauseous... And yet, I still manage to feel hungry, despite having to crammed my face full of junk all day long. However, I'm not clever enough to eat real food, and opt for more candy, which makes me even more nauseous. Because I don't insist on learning stuff. <br />
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The Mister will be back on Wednesday, which happens to be our third anniversary and we,re going out for dinner. Keep your fingers crossed that pukey-foamy-in-the-stomach sensation will be gone by then. <br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-9897279499794107602013-03-15T17:00:00.001+01:002013-04-10T17:16:26.663+02:00The house that the mad hatter builtWhat I usually do when I wake up in the morning, is roll over and go back to sleep. The second thing I do, is check all my gadgets for emails and such, in case I missed something fascinating while I was on standby. By this time, the mister will usually be at work, twisting young minds. Since I am the boss of me, I only get to twist my own mind. One morning, a few days ago, I had an email from the mister. It simply said; "honey, I think the dishwasher is broken..." <br />
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At first, my mind was just completely unable to process such a horrible possibility (I mean, washing dishes by hand? Who do I look like? My grandmother?) so I just sat there for a while. Then I went to check on the dishwasher. I turned it on. It wasn't dead, but it certainly sounded as if it wanted to be. <br />
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To our great relief, we found a place that could deliver a new machine within just a few days. I was still a bit grumbly, at first, but then I realised that the new thingy would be much prettier than the old gizmo, so I was happy in the end, shallow little thing that I am. Besides, the old one kinda needed cleaning on the inside, and...you know...yuck. <br />
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Little did I know what fate had in store for me... <br />
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Do you, by any chance, remember when I told you about the insane wiring in the living room? The one that made our lives of so interesting when we tried to put up a lamp in the ceiling? As it turned out, the set-up in the kitchen made that look as sane as tea and crumpets. <br />
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First off, the dishwasher wasn't fastened in any way, shape or form. It was, however, placed into a slight...uhm...well, it wasn't exactly a hole in the floor but it wasn't exactly NOT a hole, either. This was what kept it from dancing across the room when it started to vibrate. And underneath the kitchen counter, the installers found that it was just simply hooked up to an ancient extension cord. They didn't feel comfortable installing the new machine that way, go figure, so we had to call for the electrician who fixed the first mess in the living room. <br />
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Mr Electrician came by the next morning and redid all the wiring in the kitchen. Apparently the oven was hooked up using the same, fine system as the old dishwasher. Basically we're just grateful we haven't burned to death. Who used to own this house? Doc Brown? choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-41373960873418086312013-03-08T16:29:00.000+01:002013-04-10T17:16:47.277+02:00How to make your dog go from a solid to a liquidThis post will illustrate how to melt your dog, using simple massage techniques. Sorta.<br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-72634857782646229322013-03-05T17:02:00.001+01:002013-04-10T17:17:10.101+02:00Today I swallowed a cameraRight after I moved to Denmark, I started coughing something awful. I'd cough until I threw my cookies, and I would do that several times every day. It was exhausting and not terribly sexy. Not to mention that it makes your food budget much bigger than it needs to be. The doc figured I had asthma, but she was a bit stumped at my freakishly awesome lung capacity. Seriously, my lungs should wear a cape, or something. Then she was stumped some more when my meds didn't really work all that well. <br />
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So off to the lung specialist I went. They told me that I didn't have asthma at all, and sent me off to yet another specialist to have a gastroscopy. Thats when they run a tube the width of a finger, with a camera attached to it, down your throat, into your stomach. There are no words to adequately describe how gross that is. It didn't hurt at all, it was just....yeah. Especially when the doctor decided to pull it up a bit and then back down a little, and then to turn it around and around. <br />
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There was a nurse in the room, who's only job, apparently, was to stroke my hair and go "there, there...it's almost over," while dressed in an outfit that was clearly meant to be thrown up on. I hope they pay her very well. <br />
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The camera guy told me that I didn't have a closing muscle (which I already knew) and that's why I've been having "asthma" (which I didn't know) and that if the medication he was going to prescribe didn't help, they would operate (which I didn't want to know, and pretended not to have heard.) <br />
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At least there was a present in the mailbox for me (from me) when I got home; touch my katamari! Which isn't anywhere near as dirty as it sounds. <br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-73190721907673319682013-03-04T13:19:00.000+01:002013-03-04T13:19:11.123+01:00Bad to the bone, na-na-na-nana<b>The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to <i>the Second Level of Hell!</i></b><br />
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:<br />
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<table cellspacing="1" style="background-color: black; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font: 10pt arial, verdana, 'sans serif'; margin: 5px;"><tbody>
<tr style="background-color: #333333; color: white; font: bold 12pt arial, verdana, 'sans serif'; text-align: center;"><th><b>Level</b></th><th><b>Score</b></th></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #220033; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#0" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Purgatory</a></b> (Repenting Believers)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #3344bb; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Very Low</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #110022; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#1" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 1 - Limbo</a></b> (Virtuous Non-Believers)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #3344bb; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Very Low</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #220011; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#2" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 2</a></b> (Lustful)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #ee2244; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Extreme</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #330011; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#3" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 3</a></b> (Gluttonous)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #ff1133; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>High</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #440011; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#4" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 4</a></b> (Prodigal and Avaricious)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #c40033; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Very High</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #550011; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#5" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 5</a></b> (Wrathful and Gloomy)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #c40033; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Very High</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #660011; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#6" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 6 - The City of Dis</a></b> (Heretics)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #ee2244; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Extreme</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #770011; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#7" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 7</a></b> (Violent)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #c40033; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Very High</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #880011; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#8" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 8- the Malebolge</a></b> (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #c40033; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Very High</b></td></tr>
<tr style="background-color: #990011; color: #eeeeee;"><td style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b><a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-information.html#9" style="color: #ff3344; text-decoration: underline;">Level 9 - Cocytus</a></b> (Treacherous)</td><td style="background-color: #333333; color: #c40033; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><b>Very High</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Take the <a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-test.mv">Dante's Inferno Hell Test</a></b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b><i>Level 2:</i> You have come to a place mute of all light, where the wind bellows as the sea does in a tempest. This is the realm where the lustful spend eternity. Here, sinners are blown around endlessly by the unforgiving winds of unquenchable desire as punishment for their transgressions. The infernal hurricane that never rests hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine, whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them. You have betrayed reason at the behest of your appetite for pleasure, and so here you are doomed to remain. Cleopatra and Helen of Troy are two that share in your fate.</b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b>*snicker*</b>choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-54150588499811881832013-03-03T14:59:00.001+01:002013-03-03T14:59:30.704+01:00Long live things and stuff!So last week I was extreeeeeeemely Hormonal, with a capital H. Now, most months I can do the whole period thing and remain relatively sane, but once in a blue moon I would probably be better off locked up inside a room with soft walls. This was one of those months. <br />
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Little things that would normally only be a mild annoyance, we're suddenly doing my head in. Especially the boxes and piles of stuff that were occupying corners of every room throughout the house. Our basement is no good for storage, because it's too wet, and organising storage in other ways was one of those things that we were always talking about, but never got around to doing. So these little areas of every room pretty much looked like something exploded.<br />
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Then the mums announced that they were visiting. <br />
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Drastic tidying up was necessary. However, no matter how much time I spent tidying and prettifying parts of various rooms, I would always be able to see these little sectors of absolute chaos out of the corner of my eye. It was really frustrating. Then the frustration would turn in to fits of pick-things-up-and-throw-them rage. Then that, in turn, would lead to all kinds of sobbing and blubbering, because clearly I had gone completely completely batcrap crazy. <br />
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After two days of that, the mister was extremely motivated to go out and buy storage furniture. everything looks nice and grown-up now. We could totally trick people into thinking we were adults, if we invited them over. <br />
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Now look at this picture below, and tell me that this wouldn't be the perfect doggy bed for Pooch. Because the mister didn't think so, so he clearly needs to be shown the error of his ways. <br />
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(I'm kidding. No, I'm not. Yes, I am. Or am I?) <br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-30365852454124989892013-03-01T12:30:00.001+01:002013-03-01T12:50:07.700+01:00February whatnotsI can't quite decide how the layout should be for my whatnots. Definitely not like last month. That was pretty much The Suck. At least it was when I looked at them from my computer. And then I was just way too lazy to fix them. Oh well. <br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-50265512568096524642013-02-26T13:50:00.000+01:002013-04-10T17:17:34.703+02:00Stop kissing me, woman!<br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-70273615053227582662013-02-20T20:20:00.001+01:002013-04-10T17:17:49.503+02:00Well, would you look at thatSpring is...springing. Sort if. If you ignore the little snowflakes scattered around. And the fact that I nearly froze bits off taking this picture. Then again, my bits often claim to be freezing off in the middle of June, so they're not what you'd call reliable for gauging temperatures. <br />
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What kind of idiot flower decides to come out in this weather? I'm hoping it's got psychic abilities, and that it's out because it somehow KNOWS that winter is dead. 'Cause let's face it; winter pretty much stops being interesting once Christmas is over. Unless you're one of those crazy people who like to throw themselves off of mountains with flat sticks strapped to their legs. <br />
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Anyways...<br />
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Here's a picture of the pretty little idiot.<br />
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choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-58019476184301289472013-02-09T16:53:00.001+01:002013-04-10T17:18:07.540+02:00I go fakir!Ever heard of those plastic 'bed of nails' things that are all the rage these days? Well, at least they are in this part of the world. I'm taking about acupuncture mats, like <a href="http://www.amazon.com/HIMALAYA-ACUPRESSURE-MAT-THE-ORIGINAL/dp/B0032ULI10/ref=sr_1_5?s=hpc&ie=UTF8&qid=1360424169&sr=1-5&keywords=bed+of+nails" target="_blank">This one</a> from amazon. <br />
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The mister's physio therapist told him that she had one, and it had "melted her brain" to such a degree that she had been unable to focus on the book she was reading. Well, since the mister has back issues, he went out and got one. <br />
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The first time he tried it, he fell asleep for an hour and woke up looking so dopey, I half expected him to start drooling. I didn't mind the idea of having my brain melted, too, so I decided to try it. The mister explained how the trick is to just relax all your muscles and the thing will eventually become comfortable to lie on. <br />
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I did so well, he decided to document it. Don't I look relaxed? <br />
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<br />choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20545109.post-76561422600190462012013-02-02T13:43:00.001+01:002013-04-10T17:18:22.525+02:00January whatnotsThis month, I was all set to take lots of pictures of stuff getting wet in the rain. Then Outside suddenly decided to go all wintry on me. As soon as it starts to snow, Pooch can sense it. Pooch can sense the falling snow, even from her deepest sleep in front of the fire, and then she has to go outside IMMEDIATELY. Until her toes get cold. Then she has to come inside IMMEDIATELY. Pooch is weird. And spoiled, as the mister likes to point out. <br />
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<br />choochoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17994404946009103090noreply@blogger.com1