Stealth.
That is the watchword.
I come home, open the garage door and...no one is there.
I know they must have heard the garage door opening. So. They know I'm here. That is part of the game.
Instantly, I go into a kung-fu crouch. I warily look around, not making a sound. Silently I glide across the floor. I come to the living room...and peek around the corner. Still no one. Not a sound.
I do a cartwheel, a backflip, and a series of high-flying karate moves across the room and position myself behind the sofa, all without making a sound except for the occasional swish-swish-swish. Anyone watching would have seen only a non-distinct blur. I peek around the side....still, no one. They must be upstairs.
I gingerly ascend the steps...one...at...a...time. Oh so cautiously.
At the top I can hear voices. It's late in the evening, my wife is in my daughter's room, putting her to bed already. Then I hear it. Tapping....no...typing! Coming from the office.
The office is right above the garage, so she DOES know I'm here. And yet I remain unmolested. So, THAT's how she wants to play it. I swiftly move to the master bedroom door, quietly open it, and I'm in!! aahhh...
For a moment I feel I've won the battle, but I know her. I know it's never over. I move to the bed and sit on the edge, probably for too long. Your losing your nerve, boy. You need to stay more alert! You've become too soft. Too comfortable. Remember your training!
And there it is! The sound of a distant door opening. I instantly realize I can hear my wife's voice in the baby monitor, so it's NOT HER!! IT'S THE OTHER ONE!!!
In way too much of a panic I jump up and race to the door of the master bath! My blood is pumping, I'm losing my grip. I felt like I was in a horror movie! If someone had grabbed me at that moment I would have screamed like a woman. I reach the door and open it. Oh No! I opened it too hard, and the air displacement in the room made the bedroom door jiggle...loudly!
I enter the master bath, then into the toilet which has it's own door. As I sit there, wondering what her next move will be, I almost expect a shadow to flit across the light coming in from under the door. I watch it...watch it...nothing.
After a few minutes I emerge, but not all at once. I silently, gently open the door and look out with one eye into the main area of the master bath. No one. So far so good.
I wash my hands, and then in a state of euphoria for my good luck so far, I proceed to open the door to the bedroom, but THERE SHE IS!!!!!! AAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!!
Yes, she was in the bedroom, waiting for me to come out. I was done for.
End game.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Sisters-in-law Act 4 Scenes 3-7
Please leave me alone!!! I can't get any peace and quiet, no privacy.
To catch you up on where we stand, I had both sisters-in-law come stay for a few weeks, with their time here overlapping for several days. One is an evil-fat-ass, the other is a work-a-holic. Both are busy-bodies, neither are your ideal companions for the evening.
So tonight, as I try and spend a few quiet moments alone with my daughter, the evil-fat-ass is droning on, I'm not sure about what, but I'm sure it involves whatever the hell just popped into her head. I just want her to stop talking. She talks during any t.v. show you're watching, she talks when you're reading, she talks when you're on the phone with someone else, she talks when you're trying to talk to your wife or daughter, she talks when you're eating, she talks when SHE's eating...on and on and on....
The evil-fat-ass has a habit of always thinking she's right on every subject. She can't admit she's wrong. Now I know we all hate to admit that, but if you saw her in action you'd be impressed by her complete inability to just drop something.
Example:
She's trying to suggest a name for our soon-to-be-baby:
Evil-fat-ass: "How about Duncan?"
Me: "Donuts."
efa: "Everyone says that! That bugs me. You don't HAVE to think of donuts every time you hear Duncan."
me: "But I DID think of it. Other people will think of it. He'll be called 'duncan donuts' his whole life."
efa: "Well but that's just something he'll have to get used to. You can't pick your own name. You just have to live with what you've got....that's your lot in life..."
Now I'll give you an example to let you know the kind of lonely-never-gonna-have-a-friend-person she is:
She goes to visit her other sister in Ohio. She's introduced to some of their friends who live down the street. The next day she goes out for a walk, and stops by their house unannounced to spend some time with them. They are a bit surprised since they only just met her, and it's a Saturday and they're busy with their kids. She secures their email address and when she gets back home proceeds to email them. She's saddened that they don't respond.
Now before you feel sorry for this lonely-sad-sack, remember, she is who she is, and she spent years cultivating the kind of personality that keeps her alone her whole life. She can't hold down a job because she alienates all humans. She can't have a relationship because she alienates all humans. Her own relatives dread her visits because she alienates all humans.
Another fun example:
I made the mistake once of mentioning that a guy was going to be delivering some mulch, and that he's a nice guy and stays in shape by doing this on the side, his regular job is a fireman. After realizing my blunder I stressed that he's happily married. This made no difference...she quickly showered and got ready, and as soon as he pulled into the driveway and I started walking out to meet him, she knocked me down in a fury to rush out and "present" herself to him. She talked his ear off as he shoveled mulch onto my driveway, and was no doubt stunned when he left without proposing. After all, who could resist someone who knows all the original star trek episodes, and will condescendingly correct you on any of your own thoughts you interject to be part of the conversation. You see, it's not about a two-way conversation, it's about her talking....talking AND showing that she knows everything.
This evening, for some reason she was letting Katelyn play in a basket of dirty laundry. When I walked up she asked if these were dirty clothes and I said "yes". Then she holds up a pair of socks that are folded together and asks why they are folded together if they are dirty. I reply that I don't know, and her smart-ass-mo$#!*-f*$#*!&-s#$%*%*e response is "well you LIVE here".
I know I would not see my daughter for a long time if I were to murder her, so for that reason I restrain myself somewhat. I storm away, punching something as I make my way into the garage to rip out for a spell. My wife comes out and asks what's going on. When I tell her, she's less than sympathetic.
I don't like being the in the same room with e.f.a., and I try and find a place to spend some quiet time...I end up sitting in my car listening to the cd player, hoping they don't find me. Well they did. As I'm sipping a beer (I'd given up beer for a long time but she drove me back to it) and restfully listening to the cd, the garage door opens and the entire household is standing there wanting to know what I'm doing and every detail there is to know about me and what I'm listening to and why I'm in the garage and blah blah blah...
More later....she keeps coming in here wanting to know what I'm typing. Probably wants to correct my grammar.
To catch you up on where we stand, I had both sisters-in-law come stay for a few weeks, with their time here overlapping for several days. One is an evil-fat-ass, the other is a work-a-holic. Both are busy-bodies, neither are your ideal companions for the evening.
So tonight, as I try and spend a few quiet moments alone with my daughter, the evil-fat-ass is droning on, I'm not sure about what, but I'm sure it involves whatever the hell just popped into her head. I just want her to stop talking. She talks during any t.v. show you're watching, she talks when you're reading, she talks when you're on the phone with someone else, she talks when you're trying to talk to your wife or daughter, she talks when you're eating, she talks when SHE's eating...on and on and on....
The evil-fat-ass has a habit of always thinking she's right on every subject. She can't admit she's wrong. Now I know we all hate to admit that, but if you saw her in action you'd be impressed by her complete inability to just drop something.
Example:
She's trying to suggest a name for our soon-to-be-baby:
Evil-fat-ass: "How about Duncan?"
Me: "Donuts."
efa: "Everyone says that! That bugs me. You don't HAVE to think of donuts every time you hear Duncan."
me: "But I DID think of it. Other people will think of it. He'll be called 'duncan donuts' his whole life."
efa: "Well but that's just something he'll have to get used to. You can't pick your own name. You just have to live with what you've got....that's your lot in life..."
Now I'll give you an example to let you know the kind of lonely-never-gonna-have-a-friend-person she is:
She goes to visit her other sister in Ohio. She's introduced to some of their friends who live down the street. The next day she goes out for a walk, and stops by their house unannounced to spend some time with them. They are a bit surprised since they only just met her, and it's a Saturday and they're busy with their kids. She secures their email address and when she gets back home proceeds to email them. She's saddened that they don't respond.
Now before you feel sorry for this lonely-sad-sack, remember, she is who she is, and she spent years cultivating the kind of personality that keeps her alone her whole life. She can't hold down a job because she alienates all humans. She can't have a relationship because she alienates all humans. Her own relatives dread her visits because she alienates all humans.
Another fun example:
I made the mistake once of mentioning that a guy was going to be delivering some mulch, and that he's a nice guy and stays in shape by doing this on the side, his regular job is a fireman. After realizing my blunder I stressed that he's happily married. This made no difference...she quickly showered and got ready, and as soon as he pulled into the driveway and I started walking out to meet him, she knocked me down in a fury to rush out and "present" herself to him. She talked his ear off as he shoveled mulch onto my driveway, and was no doubt stunned when he left without proposing. After all, who could resist someone who knows all the original star trek episodes, and will condescendingly correct you on any of your own thoughts you interject to be part of the conversation. You see, it's not about a two-way conversation, it's about her talking....talking AND showing that she knows everything.
This evening, for some reason she was letting Katelyn play in a basket of dirty laundry. When I walked up she asked if these were dirty clothes and I said "yes". Then she holds up a pair of socks that are folded together and asks why they are folded together if they are dirty. I reply that I don't know, and her smart-ass-mo$#!*-f*$#*!&-s#$%*%*e response is "well you LIVE here".
I know I would not see my daughter for a long time if I were to murder her, so for that reason I restrain myself somewhat. I storm away, punching something as I make my way into the garage to rip out for a spell. My wife comes out and asks what's going on. When I tell her, she's less than sympathetic.
I don't like being the in the same room with e.f.a., and I try and find a place to spend some quiet time...I end up sitting in my car listening to the cd player, hoping they don't find me. Well they did. As I'm sipping a beer (I'd given up beer for a long time but she drove me back to it) and restfully listening to the cd, the garage door opens and the entire household is standing there wanting to know what I'm doing and every detail there is to know about me and what I'm listening to and why I'm in the garage and blah blah blah...
More later....she keeps coming in here wanting to know what I'm typing. Probably wants to correct my grammar.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Sisters-in-law Act 3 Scene 1
I must secretly make this post while I remain unwatched, as I never know when someone will be sneaking up to see what I'm doing, yak my ear off, give me instructions on something to do, or try and speed me along to get out the door to work.
My house is no longer my own. My belongings are no longer my own. My bedroom is no longer a secret, private place. I've become a lost soul, wandering from room to room, trying to evade either the work-aholic giving me stuff to do, or the lazy fat-ass trying to tell me about some episode of some sci-fi show she saw back in the 80's.
When the phone rings and I say "wait until it picks up so I'll know who it is", the fat-ass ignores me, says "I know how to find out" and picks it up herself to chat with whoever may be calling me.
When the work-aholic says "Matt, can I borrow your cell phone", the fat-ass answers for me with "Sure!".
I came downstairs this morning to find f.a. (fat-ass-sister-in-law) feeding melted mozzarella to my daughter for breakfast. Then she takes a sip out of MY coffee cup, by "accident"....I had to burn the cup. Then f.a. takes a break, she grabs a newspaper and heads upstairs to abuse my toilet. At least she's going upstairs this time, instead of before when she used the downstairs powder room and we were all invited to hear her grunts.
I'm very tired. At 2 a.m. w.a. (work-a-holic-sister-in-law) was still running around cleaning, and she had my entire bed covered in baby's clothes she was washing, sorting, and folding. I went back into my office, and f.a. was sitting at the computer....don't make eye-contact...oh CRAP! she saw me, "Hey Matt, listen to this email I got. 'You can make thousands of dollars buying and selling mortgages. Guaranteed!' I sometimes answer these, there's so many great deals out there, I don't know how they got my email address, but I'm trying to look into all these good offers."
With a weak claim of "hearing someone calling me" I slink away, not bothering to, once again, try and explain that she's a damn fool and those are all scams and it's people like her that crap up the world for the rest of us by even reading them.
Every morning w.a. manages to get to my daughters room before me when Katelyn wakes up, and she takes her downstairs and gives her breakfast. Now you would think that this would give me the oppurtunity to sleep in, say until maybe 8:30....please?
Fat chance. She comes knocking at my door, "Are you awake? It's time to get dressed and get to work!"
So what am I doing still sitting at home at 10 a.m.? I'm rebelling.
My house is no longer my own. My belongings are no longer my own. My bedroom is no longer a secret, private place. I've become a lost soul, wandering from room to room, trying to evade either the work-aholic giving me stuff to do, or the lazy fat-ass trying to tell me about some episode of some sci-fi show she saw back in the 80's.
When the phone rings and I say "wait until it picks up so I'll know who it is", the fat-ass ignores me, says "I know how to find out" and picks it up herself to chat with whoever may be calling me.
When the work-aholic says "Matt, can I borrow your cell phone", the fat-ass answers for me with "Sure!".
I came downstairs this morning to find f.a. (fat-ass-sister-in-law) feeding melted mozzarella to my daughter for breakfast. Then she takes a sip out of MY coffee cup, by "accident"....I had to burn the cup. Then f.a. takes a break, she grabs a newspaper and heads upstairs to abuse my toilet. At least she's going upstairs this time, instead of before when she used the downstairs powder room and we were all invited to hear her grunts.
I'm very tired. At 2 a.m. w.a. (work-a-holic-sister-in-law) was still running around cleaning, and she had my entire bed covered in baby's clothes she was washing, sorting, and folding. I went back into my office, and f.a. was sitting at the computer....don't make eye-contact...oh CRAP! she saw me, "Hey Matt, listen to this email I got. 'You can make thousands of dollars buying and selling mortgages. Guaranteed!' I sometimes answer these, there's so many great deals out there, I don't know how they got my email address, but I'm trying to look into all these good offers."
With a weak claim of "hearing someone calling me" I slink away, not bothering to, once again, try and explain that she's a damn fool and those are all scams and it's people like her that crap up the world for the rest of us by even reading them.
Every morning w.a. manages to get to my daughters room before me when Katelyn wakes up, and she takes her downstairs and gives her breakfast. Now you would think that this would give me the oppurtunity to sleep in, say until maybe 8:30....please?
Fat chance. She comes knocking at my door, "Are you awake? It's time to get dressed and get to work!"
So what am I doing still sitting at home at 10 a.m.? I'm rebelling.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Sisters-in-law Act 2 Scene 3
I've learned there's a few things I really don't like.
1) Having a work-aholic work harder than you in your own home and others then think you're a lazy ass.
2) Having a fat-potato-chip-eating-annoying-can't-shut-up sister-in-law follow you around with a bowl full of some food, and chomp away, making loud, gross, chomping-smacking noises, as she talks incessantly about who knows what.
Now for starters, I overheard my work-aholic sister-in-law on the phone with her daughter. Apparently her daughter doesn't like that her mom is here in my house doing things that are my job, and I guess she thinks I'm taking advantage of her mother and I'm a really bad person. I heard the w.a. say "well he is doing SOME stuff, just a few things here and there." That really pissed me off. I didn't ask her to do anything for me. So much for my relaxing weekend.
And last night the fat-ass ate 17 pounds of potato chips, and each disgusting bite was heard from rooms away. Good Gosh can't she chew quietly? Or, considering her size, less? But she has to be talking as she's eating, talking-talking-talking-talking-talking.
AAAAHHHH!!!!!!
1) Having a work-aholic work harder than you in your own home and others then think you're a lazy ass.
2) Having a fat-potato-chip-eating-annoying-can't-shut-up sister-in-law follow you around with a bowl full of some food, and chomp away, making loud, gross, chomping-smacking noises, as she talks incessantly about who knows what.
Now for starters, I overheard my work-aholic sister-in-law on the phone with her daughter. Apparently her daughter doesn't like that her mom is here in my house doing things that are my job, and I guess she thinks I'm taking advantage of her mother and I'm a really bad person. I heard the w.a. say "well he is doing SOME stuff, just a few things here and there." That really pissed me off. I didn't ask her to do anything for me. So much for my relaxing weekend.
And last night the fat-ass ate 17 pounds of potato chips, and each disgusting bite was heard from rooms away. Good Gosh can't she chew quietly? Or, considering her size, less? But she has to be talking as she's eating, talking-talking-talking-talking-talking.
AAAAHHHH!!!!!!
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Sisters-in-law Act 1 Scene 1
And since today was only the first day with both the good sister-in-law and the bad sister-in-law staying under my roof, I didn't think it would be too bad.
I underestimated the evil power of the bad sister-in-law.
Now to set the scene, you have to understand what makes her bad. It's not a cool kind of bad, it's not the seductive evil twin like on a 60's sitcom or cheesy night-time soap-opera. It's just bad. It's driving in the car for an hour after picking her up from the airport and not saying a single word as she describes obscure scenes from some star trek episode or some movie she saw twenty years ago. It's not being able to answer my wife's question of "how was your day" as I'm walking in the door because the evil sister-in-law cuts me off to tell me about some work related experience from a job she had when she was in college. It's being afraid to ever say anything about anything because this overweight, unmarried, living-with-her-mother, can't-hold-down-a-job sister-in-law will cut me off to correct me on any and everything, nevermind if she's right or wrong, as long as she's listening to the sweet, sweet sound of her own voice, and (in her mind) enlightening us village idiots about the secret workings of the world to which only she is privy.
Example 1:
My wife says "I saw a special about the James Bond movie where he's skiing and jumps off a cliff and opens a parachute. Which one was that?"
I answer "that was The Spy Who Loved Me"...but quick as a flash the evil one cuts in and says "No it wasn't, the Spy Who Loved Me was about where he got married and his wife got killed at the end".
In my mind I'm thinking "thanks a lot for 1) cutting me off and telling me I'm wrong and 2) being wrong yourself with your unsolicited answer and 3) giving away the end of a movie that some people may not have seen" but in my words I'm saying "No it isn't, you don't know what the heck you're talking about" and walking away. This of course brought gentle chiding from my wife later.
Example 2:
Since you've been given the guest bedroom with it's big bed and nice tv, perhaps you could go there to watch your goofy shows for the evening. No....instead you hog the BIG tv downstairs ALL NIGHT. My wife's watching tv in the master bedroom, the evil one is hogging the BIG tv, and the guest tv goes unused. And I can't go in the guest room to watch tv since she's already taken over the room and has her stuff everywhere and may come in at any moment to go to bed.
Example 3:
Now I don't really even watch much tv anymore, but I like to watch Leno's monologue. If it's on, I like to be able to hear what he says. But the evil one's thoughts run in this line "if I'm not watching tv, I need to be running my fat-ass mouth at whoever's in earshot." So she sits quietly during her shows, but when I turn on MY show, she yaks incessently throughout. Every joke Leno says goes unheard by me, but reminds her of something that she simply must tell me about at that moment....such as some humurous thing her friend Kim said to her back in the 70's.
Then there's the good sister-in-law. We won't spend much time here, just a few examples.
Example 1:
"You go downstairs and eat dinner, I'll help Katelyn brush her teeth and I'll put her to bed."
Example 2:
"Help me put the crib together so I can finish getting your new nursery ready."
Example 3:
"You need little girl's furniture for Katelyn's room? I can give you my daughter's old furniture, I'll drive it down next time I come."
Example 4:
"Since you slept late I went ahead and did some of your gardening for you. I spread the mulch and planted the annuals."
Example 5:
"Good morning. I heard you getting up so I got your coffee ready. I emptied the dishwasher and fed Katelyn. Would you like some eggs?"
So my 8-and-a-half-month-pregnant wife and I are bouncing back and fourth between relaxing happiness, and pull-your-hair-out frustration.
More to come...
I underestimated the evil power of the bad sister-in-law.
Now to set the scene, you have to understand what makes her bad. It's not a cool kind of bad, it's not the seductive evil twin like on a 60's sitcom or cheesy night-time soap-opera. It's just bad. It's driving in the car for an hour after picking her up from the airport and not saying a single word as she describes obscure scenes from some star trek episode or some movie she saw twenty years ago. It's not being able to answer my wife's question of "how was your day" as I'm walking in the door because the evil sister-in-law cuts me off to tell me about some work related experience from a job she had when she was in college. It's being afraid to ever say anything about anything because this overweight, unmarried, living-with-her-mother, can't-hold-down-a-job sister-in-law will cut me off to correct me on any and everything, nevermind if she's right or wrong, as long as she's listening to the sweet, sweet sound of her own voice, and (in her mind) enlightening us village idiots about the secret workings of the world to which only she is privy.
Example 1:
My wife says "I saw a special about the James Bond movie where he's skiing and jumps off a cliff and opens a parachute. Which one was that?"
I answer "that was The Spy Who Loved Me"...but quick as a flash the evil one cuts in and says "No it wasn't, the Spy Who Loved Me was about where he got married and his wife got killed at the end".
In my mind I'm thinking "thanks a lot for 1) cutting me off and telling me I'm wrong and 2) being wrong yourself with your unsolicited answer and 3) giving away the end of a movie that some people may not have seen" but in my words I'm saying "No it isn't, you don't know what the heck you're talking about" and walking away. This of course brought gentle chiding from my wife later.
Example 2:
Since you've been given the guest bedroom with it's big bed and nice tv, perhaps you could go there to watch your goofy shows for the evening. No....instead you hog the BIG tv downstairs ALL NIGHT. My wife's watching tv in the master bedroom, the evil one is hogging the BIG tv, and the guest tv goes unused. And I can't go in the guest room to watch tv since she's already taken over the room and has her stuff everywhere and may come in at any moment to go to bed.
Example 3:
Now I don't really even watch much tv anymore, but I like to watch Leno's monologue. If it's on, I like to be able to hear what he says. But the evil one's thoughts run in this line "if I'm not watching tv, I need to be running my fat-ass mouth at whoever's in earshot." So she sits quietly during her shows, but when I turn on MY show, she yaks incessently throughout. Every joke Leno says goes unheard by me, but reminds her of something that she simply must tell me about at that moment....such as some humurous thing her friend Kim said to her back in the 70's.
Then there's the good sister-in-law. We won't spend much time here, just a few examples.
Example 1:
"You go downstairs and eat dinner, I'll help Katelyn brush her teeth and I'll put her to bed."
Example 2:
"Help me put the crib together so I can finish getting your new nursery ready."
Example 3:
"You need little girl's furniture for Katelyn's room? I can give you my daughter's old furniture, I'll drive it down next time I come."
Example 4:
"Since you slept late I went ahead and did some of your gardening for you. I spread the mulch and planted the annuals."
Example 5:
"Good morning. I heard you getting up so I got your coffee ready. I emptied the dishwasher and fed Katelyn. Would you like some eggs?"
So my 8-and-a-half-month-pregnant wife and I are bouncing back and fourth between relaxing happiness, and pull-your-hair-out frustration.
More to come...
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Gordon's Funny Sneeze
I've heard a variety of sneezes in my time, but I've never heard one take the form of an obscenity.
As we were all sitting at lunch, I could tell Gordon was suddenly frantic about something. It starts out as an AHH-AHH-... but then ends with an AHH-AHHH-GODDAMNIT!!
Apparently in a desparate attempt to free his napkin from under his plate, he managed to knock his fork around and drop pizza everywhere. With no napkin handy and a mouth full of pizza there's really no choice but to absorb the sneeze.
I've never seen a sneezing person actually implode before, but it was actually quite funny. You don't know whether to offer assistance or politely look away. It turns out the best course of action, and most enjoyable, is to laugh and point. We thank you Gordon for a bit of lunchtime humor, at your own expense.
As we were all sitting at lunch, I could tell Gordon was suddenly frantic about something. It starts out as an AHH-AHH-... but then ends with an AHH-AHHH-GODDAMNIT!!
Apparently in a desparate attempt to free his napkin from under his plate, he managed to knock his fork around and drop pizza everywhere. With no napkin handy and a mouth full of pizza there's really no choice but to absorb the sneeze.
I've never seen a sneezing person actually implode before, but it was actually quite funny. You don't know whether to offer assistance or politely look away. It turns out the best course of action, and most enjoyable, is to laugh and point. We thank you Gordon for a bit of lunchtime humor, at your own expense.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Road Rules
Am traveling to Skidaway Island Developers Corp. this thursday-saturday for a quick and big install, am taking the newest addition to the strike team, Tara and the big gun Michelle , for the job.Will tell the tale of our road adventures on my return.Expect mayhem, drama, comedy, and tri-state car chases, or at least a little sunburn.
Best regards
R.BUTLER
Best regards
R.BUTLER
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