Today is the day I’m gonna let it rip. All the things that have been bugging me in the news are about to come tumbling out. They will be in no specific order; they will probably not be related; this will surprise none of you.
That chick at Yahoo who had a kid. Melissa Mayer. She’s the grand poobah there, and she made headlines because she only took a one week mat leave. People descended on her. Who cares? What one woman decides to do doesn’t make a dent in my day. The fact she has a choice is all that matters. Be nice if all women had that choice. She stepped things up today, apparently sending out an email to friends asking for input on what to name the kid. I totally wish some of my friends had asked for my input when they were naming their kids. Be a lot less Mykynzys and Jaysons and Tylyrs floating around. I think she should just name the kid Yahoo.
I watched the U.S. presidential debate. The one where Obama didn’t come across very presidenty at all. And regardless of how much everyone is clapping Mitt on the back, I think they better be careful they don’t cut their hand on the top of the zipper where he does up his person costume. Oh, during the debate I was Twitting. Or whatever. Picked up a troll from New Orleans, she kept trying to convince me she was a phd. Her spelling and grammar were awesome. I finally found out who goes to those schools I see advertised on Buffalo TV stations.
Rozzy has a new kitten and refuses to show me pictures. By the time I finally meet him, he’ll just be a cat, and Roz will do what I do and haul out baby pictures and say “look how cute he used to be” as the now-just-another-cat yawns catfood breath and curls up and sticks his nose under his tail and goes back to sleep. Edit: I finally got a pic!
The Poor Sod stopped by to pick up mail. Yes, I know it’s been over two years, but stuff still dribbles in. It took him 4 hours to get his mail, because I made a sad face and he attached some towel bars, hung up a cabinet, and checked why the range hood lights were winking and sparking. And yelled at me for letting the tool bench in the garage get so disorganized. My contractor Steve stopped in at the same time, so I had one lad in the basement working, and one upstairs, and I called it a good day.
Okay, seriously. This is my most favourite neighbour problem. Fences. Here'sa question to a columnist at the G&M about a neighbour’s fence. Legally, as far as I know, most jurisdictions have a bylaw that says neighbours must split the cost of a fence between them. Now, this is peachy if everybody wants a fence, and everybody has the same idea about how that fence should look. Yeah. That happens all the time. I personally am a hedge fan. A tall hedge fan. But I have to admit, as awesome a neighbour as I know myself to be, if someone moved in with a dog, and announced I would have to pay for a fence because of their dog, I would be pretttttttty damned crabby if I already had a perfectly good hedge there. As I do. My neighbours at the back put up a fence when they moved in with their two dogs. We have high cedars there. I never hear a peep from them, which leads me to believe that bylaws aside, common sense dictates that if someone needs a fence, that conversation better start on the right note, and include a lot of beer.
I’m going to start watching Deadwood again tonight, starting with Season One. This makes me happy.
I watched Glee last night. Don’t judge. All the kids were breaking up, which is fine with me because most of them are so annoying anyway. But the annoyingst one, Rachel, stood there in full drama makeup (which she also wore to bed; doesn’t that girl know what that does to your skin?) declaring that the guy was her First Love. Idiot. You don’t realize who your First Love was until you’ve waded through a thicket of boys and men, and finally realized which one caught on your brain for life. It usually takes a lot of years to recognize this. I’ve thought I’ve been in love dozens of times. In reality? Naw. But I do know the first, the worst, the best and the rest.
I’ve caught a show called Amish Something. I know, I know, I should get out more. But working in Toronto on Tuesday nights makes me remember why I go to bed at 7pm with the cats and the iPad. I get home at 11 and I be tired. Anyway. Amish kids. It’s contrived and stupid, but more importantly, when I brought this up with Gilly, we had the same thought. Amish kids taking off to the big city wasn’t started by this dumb show. We both thought that Amish teens have a gap year thing, where they go crazy to decide if they want to stay Amish. It’s called Rumpelstiltskin or something. I might be wrong; I could be confusing the Amish with a different bonneted sect. If they stay chaste and eschew cell phones, my mistake.
I got my hydro bill. Jeesuzchrist.
So. What’s new with you?