A Mad, Mad, Mad Monday

The night started off with this bizarre Senior Citizens magazine.

Around 11pm I remembered I needed to make brownies for my small group. I jumped up off the couch and ran into the kitchen. Opa watched me jump up and run to the kitchen and said to Oma, "do you think she is on drugs or something?" I tweeted that. And that just started us all off on a crazy, mad Monday night.

Oma went and and found me a cake mix since I couldn't find brownie mix. During that brief time, I decided to make chocolate covered strawberries. This was slightly disastrous. First round I burnt the chocolate chips. Round 2, success. Then Oma gave me a better way to do it.

Then Oma taught my terribly inept self how to bake.

Then once the cake was in the oven I decided it was time Opa and Oma dance in the wheelchair. We played "hungry eyes" for the soundtrack...because "nobody puts baby in a corner!"

All in all it was a totally memorable night. The best quotes included:
"This is the most fun I've had in ten years!"

"That thing (my iPhone) plays music too?"

"Does it even make calls?"

We are finally heading to bed at 1:30am after what Opa deemed a "Mad Monday!"

Another test

Miss Independent 2.0

I woke up to a mouse scurrying around in my kitchen, then I saw this dying mouse in my garage when I was leaving.  I should mention that not only was I eating a pb and fluff sandwich--the same colors as the mouse, but the mouse was still breathing, stuck to the trap, and if that's not gross enough, it squeaked.  I got in the car and screamed.  Then sat there closed off from the mouse to decide what to do.  And by that I mean, I called my mom.  She suggested I box him up.  So he's now in a box, and then the box is sealed in 2 bags.  I feel nauseous and dirty all over.  I washed my hands like I was scrubbing for surgery, even though I only touched the outside of the cardboard box and used a flattened cereal box as a scoop.  Worst. Morning. Ever.

Adventures in Dog-sitting

Background:  I am dog/house sitting this week for some friends of mine while they are in the Outer Banks.  This is day4 of the adventure.  They have a pit bull/rottweiler mix/mutt named Blackberry (BB).  She is 3 years old and a very good dog...not scary as her breeding would suggest.

The story:

I work constantly (12-13 hour days 8:30am--9pm) and so I feel bad leaving BB inside all day, so this morning I got up at the crack of dawn (6:45am) and took BB for a walk.  We were on our way by 6:53 am.  Well, BB loves her walks and pretty much determines where and for how long the walk will be.  I thought we had left in plenty of time to be back by 7:30, so I could shower and be ready to leave for work around 8:20am.  I was wrong.  BB refused to turn around at any point on our walk by having a sitdown strike if I tried to turn around or go in a direction I chose.  She flat out refused to go, no amount of pleading, pulling, or pushing on my part could change that.  (I *may* have forgotten to bring treats with me to help in my proddings...but I'm not sure if that would have made a difference).  

So we went all the way to the park--a mile and a half away...where BB promptly went #2, so we had to find one of those dog baggy sites, get a baggy--well a few, the idea of picking up the dog doo at 7:30 in the morning, even through 1 bag, was NOT high on my list, so armed with 4 baggies over my hand, I picked up dog poo, and then walked it and BB back to the doggy bag disposal and then out of the park.  Apparently the 3 trips to the doggy disposal site had made our walk the appropriate length.  So she was amenable (great word, amenable, huh?) to going home at that point.  Well since it was late and we had a 1.5 mile trek back I decided we should jog...I should mention I currently have a cold from hell.  I made it down one street before I wanted to die, my legs hurt, my chest hurt, and I could not breathe.  And I made a wrong turn and had to back track down one block.  So our trip home consisted of BB more or less dragging me along behind  her at something akin to a power walk...gentle-leader and all--this is designed to keep her from pulling too hard...its somewhat effective, it keeps her pace to my power walk, no slower.

We finally get home, after we more or less jogged up the small hill, home is exciting I guess, I head straight for the door--and it won't open.  I try again...and then flashback style 3 images come to mind, 1) my forgotten keys sitting on the dining room table, 2) me at the beginning of our walk, seconds after shutting the door thinking "whoops, I don't have keys, but its ok, I didn't lock the door, and 3) the locked door knob--and "oh yea, I should lock this part of the door" decision minutes before bed last night.

It is approaching 8am, I'm sweaty, sick, and locked out, with a dog excited to be home.  Instantly I remember my friend mentioning that they keep a key hidden out back, I race to the back of the house, up the deck, to the grill where the key should be...not there...they must have forgotten to store one of their keys there while they were gone, the normal key that is stored there is the one I have.  Great!  I'm trying not to panic, I start searching for open windows, luckily they leave several unlocked...and halfway open.  Unfortunately, I'm 5'2...and have no access to any ladders and thus no access to windows.  As I'm circling back around to the front of the house, weighing options and thinking who to call, (my boss, my mom, my friend on vacation...), I take a second look at the front windows...

I climb up on the rail of the stairs to the house, I can reach the window, I move the screen out of the way...this is a narrow window--about 12 inches wide about 4 feet from me and up...now all I have to do is get my leg into the window and pull myself up...well, my leg reaches, but I don't feel very secure, I'm about 6 feet off the ground, standing on a railing with one leg completely stretched out to my left with a foot in a window, and nothing close to me to hold onto.  I need a ladder.  None to be had...but there are 3 huge empty garbage cans sitting out.  I take one and put it next to the railing...I try not to damage the bush planted there too badly--they just landscaped!  And then I stand gingerly on the plastic lid, hoping I won't bend it too badly--or worse fall through.  This is good, except, now I'm about six inches shorter than I was when I was on the railing, but I am now directly under the window...  Too bad I am short, and now unable to hook my leg in the window, and doubtful that my upper body strength and the size of the window will allow me to pull myself in...  Back to Plan A, I am now back on the railing, hooking my leg in the window, grabbing onto the molding as high up and as tightly as I can and swinging my body sideways into the narrow window...  

SUCCESS!  I make into the house--first try!  And I didn't break anything, the house, me... I unlock the door, BB who has watched this whole experiment in breaking and entering (thankfully did not bark at me--that would have been just what I needed--neighbors to witness this and call the police), is waiting at the door extremely excited to go in...and immediately grabs her toy and is ready to play tug of war and chases me through the house with the toy and demands we play before I can shower.  We play.  I feed her, put her invisible fence collar on, open the back door and head to the shower.  I realize with a start at the end of my shower, that I forgot to close up the window that I "broke into"...I wrap up in my towel and hurry straight to close it, because I remember Katie (my friend who owns the house and the dog) cautioned me not to leave that window too far open because BB might try to lean to far out of it and fall out as she is watching the neighborhood...I enter the living room, dripping in a towel and BB jumps on me toy in mouth ready to play, I play because she blocks my progress to the bathroom until we have played a few rounds of tug-o-war.  I offer a treat and am free.  

I finally leave for work at 8:40, but the dog was fed, watered, walked, and played with, and given a placating sweet potato chew, since I would be gone until 2pm to repeat the process, minus the walk.  I think a 3 mile walk, burning 470 calories is enough for one day (gotta love Cardio Trainer on the Android phone to track my progress...the mapping feature is especially nice as I can see all of my backtracks...haha!)

Miss Independent vs. Spider

So I think you all know I don't like spiders, read: I'm terrified of them.  My legs are still shaking.  This spider was on my couch tonight.  It is thick and about the size of a half dollar.  It is now suffering a slow death by suffocation in a cup covered with a bag and secured with a hair tie in the garage.  My independent woman skills are really coming along...  I handled the situation without freaking out...  I only screamed once...

I am independent and a PA resident with a PA registered, inspected, and license plated car.  I think that makes me a real grown up.  I'm not sure.  I spend money like one, that's for sure...  I just had to pay for all the PA car requirements...goodbye paycheck.  Literally.  And I may have gotten into a minor accident awhile back---me, some icy roads, a snowbank, and a guardrail--so I have to pay my insurance deductible and get the car fixed whenever I get the insurance check... And my computer cord broke this morning so I had to buy a new one of those...and I am going to have to have no computer at home until it comes...what will I do without hulu? hahaha!

Lets see, what else is new...I have mice in my house, so I have been fighting a war against them...and kind of like our war on terror...when I don't know what to do, I just throw money at the problem and buy weapons of "mouse" destruction (rather than "mass" destruction--get it?  haha, clever, I know)...I have poison and traps and I'm getting another kind of trap tomorrow, because I just found out that the poison might cause the mice to die in my walls and make my house smell.  And by house, I mean my two bedroom apartment above a garage.  Its actually a really sweet deal. 

I am still selling office supplies by night and that job has given me friends, haha.  My job at Novocell has picked up considerably and so I finally feel very productive and busy most days. 

I think thats about it for what's new in my life.  Brace yourself, I am going to say something that I don't think I have ever told you before, There are NO men in my life.  Can you believe it?  I understand why everyone panics at college about finding a spouse.  There are no men in the real world.  Or at least not in Western PA.  Oh well.  I'm actually too busy right now to be in a relationship.  I am trying to get involved in a church...I am volunteering at a women's conference this weekend.  Its a Beth Moore study, Loving Well.  Then I am going to start coaching soccer with a girl from Staples at the Y starting in the middle of April.  I think we are going to get U10s.  We'll see.

Mice Invasion

I now fully understand the search for a "better mousetrap" in the most literal sense.  Ever since "the sighting" last night, I have been debating what to do about the situation.  Options: 1) live and let live, so far he hasn't bothered me, except for the "ugh" feeling and the shudder that went through me when I saw him in my kitchen; 2) Deal with the problem and get rid of the mouse.  Obviously Option 2 is the only option.  Then I began brainstorming possible solutions--1) begin dating again immediately and allow new bf to show off his manliness and get rid of the mouse for me; 2) find a way to convince Dad to come visit and then allow him to fix the problem in the name of helping his oldest daughter who lives on her own survive; (this is not a really viable option, because he is already aware of the situation and told me I needed a trap and I needed to take care of the problem myself because I was a grown-up--but it was worth thinking of); 3) Pray it will just go away; 4) Woman up and take care of the problem.  While solution 1 or 2 are perhaps the most appealing, due to time constraints they are more wishful thinking.  Solution 3, yes, I believe God is all-powerful and can do anything, however, I have a feeling this is one of those things he puts in your life to teach you that you can handle it and that He will help you through it, however unappealing the task may be. 

That leaves us with option 4, let the Woman-ing Up commence!!  (By the way, there is a mantra for womaning up, in case you were unaware...I am repeating it in my head as we speak...)  I have found the perfect solution: http://www.d-conproducts.com/traps/nvnt.html.  (I might have googled "mouse traps for the squeamish" but that's beside the point).  How awesome is this?  I don't have to see, smell, or touch the dead mouse...and there's no pain, he is killed instantly!  Wouldn't PETA be proud that I am thinking of our furry friend's (or invader, but "friend" sounds more PETA) comfort while trying to rid myself of him?  So after work today and before church (I'm trying a new church tonight), I will be searching the greater Hermitage area for the No view, no touch mouse trap.  There's even an indicator light with a message that tells you when you have caught the mouse!!  (Of course when I shared this with my dad, he did warn me that it is much more satisfying to see their dead little bodies after you capture them...but I really don't think that is necessary).  Btw, did I tell you his analogy for me when he told me to go to war with the mouse?  It is slightly inappropriate, but funny.  It has to do with terrorists.  I think rather than risk being offensive (wow, look I'm actually going to hold my tongue/well my fingers).