This morning, I went shopping...and Starbucks was closed.
Also true.
That said, today started off well. I woke up without my alarm clock at 7 a.m.—while it was still dark—showered, slipped out the house, and did groceries while the masses were still amassing.
The dark picture here was taken at 6:05 pm last night, i.e. 23:55 before trash should have been out on a holiday week. The light picture was at 1:30 pm today, 4:30 before it should've been out.
I'm trying to decide if people are illiterate, ignorant, callous, or spiteful.
It's a tough call right now.
This is a holiday week. The DPW employees got Monday off, which means they pick up recycling the day after the normal schedule.
So, not today.
Even though the HOA sent us a letter in the mail and an e-mail as well as posting a sign at the entrance to the community, I knew with tragic inevitability that this was going to be the scene outside of my house this morning.
Actually, it was more like this, except with boxes on the lawn.
I have a third picture I could show if there were some way I could execute some sort of Penny Arcade style justice on the ignorant neighbors in question. Yes, one of those bins had an address on it. And, yes, I'm almost positive this all came from one neighbor.
As if this weren't maddening enough, it's going to happen again Thursday night when they put out their trash for Saturday, and again next week when we'll have the same delay.
I promised my sister-in-law, that I would record the Space Monkey's reaction to the gift I gave her. I also decided I would record my method of wrapping gifts to show my wife she is loved.
A note on prescient coincidences: my wife got me a housecoat for Christmas. A few weeks ago, I looked at her and said I needed a housecoat. She gave me an alarmed look followed by an inquisitive look: "Why?" What I didn't realize then is that she had already gotten me one.
Yesterday, the Space Monkey had off from work and began playing The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess on the GameCube. I began to wonder.
I touched on this a bit yesterday, but this is my horse ducky.
Also known as not Justin Bieber.
I've tried to find a horse on the internet that matches him, because I know it exists. Unfortunately, I'm not that great with equestrian terminology, which is why the chest thing there has three names.
No dramatically long post today. We're headed over to the Eastern Shore to spend Christmas Eve with family. I know I won't have time (or energy probably) to post when I get home, so this is my Christmas wishes to you post. I like the solemnity of the British version: Happy Christmas.
Because I'm big on solemnity.
As an aside, the white duck standing next to Jesus there is the one my wife mockingly calls "Justin Bieber ducky." As you can see, it's actually a horse ducky. More on that tomorrow.
Until then, for the Evil Space Monkey of Love and the Horde of Abominable Duckies, this is the Oracle of Truth™ praying for a Happy Christmas to all of you.
These are my friends: the Defense Against the Language Arts teacher, the Happy Llama, and the Brandilion.
The Brandilion has candy in her van.
At some point a few years ago, the D.A.L.A. and the Llama started getting into a never-ending spy vs. spy fashion battle involving planting sugar packets. I know from experience that sugar packets have been planted in wallets, purses, jackets, car trunks, VCRs, laptop computers, beds, feminine hygiene products, and taped on doors in threatening fashions.
As I've mentioned before, I'm from New Jersey, specifically the part of New Jersey just outside of NYC. In my brief experience, the NY-Metro area is the most ethnically diverse part of the country. I was shocked at how non-diverse and provincial the Baltimore-DC area is when I got here.
Anyway, before I go off on a tangent about diversity, the reason I brought this up is that this is a Christmas song I grew up listening to:
Even though I'm Hispanic, I adore this song. All of my Italian friends from NJ and NY have indicated a liking for it (although the Queen of the Damned tries not to).
Last night as I typed up my previous post, the Space Monkey asked me to turn the volume on the football game back on because she couldn't stand the sound of my typing. Tragically, the remote controls were way over there, so neither of us was in the mood to get them to turn the volume back on.
Normally, if I were going to be done relatively quickly, I would just put something on YouTube that we both liked until I was done. But I wasn't that close to finishing up, so I wanted something I wouldn't have to refresh or think of something new every few minutes.
After 420 seconds, she decided typing sounds were preferable.
She then started playing Elf City Online on her phone with the volume up to WAKE THE NEIGHBORS as a not-so-subtle way of getting back at me. I regret nothing! Author's Note: It wasn't until several hours later that I realized I could have chosen Pandora. Oops.
It's been a busy weekend. As usual, the Space Monkey has conspired to keep me from posting in a timely manner. That's okay though, because I have a cat!
That is, in fact, my beautiful beloved wife attempting at first to get rid of The Minion Underfoot and then succumbing to his feline chants.
Busy day today. When I came out of the bedroom this morning, this is what I saw. For context, I threw this at Daisy yesterday because she kept clawing at the office door downstairs. Somehow, he ended up on the landing.
As I related previously, this is Finals week. Here's what's awesome about being a professor.
Student: "The Santa Clause." Me: "Cute, but I hated those movies."
Student: "Mrs. Clause." Me: "She's cute, but Christmas is canceled. And the Easter Bunny's dead."
Admittedly, I could be more witty, but eh.
On the off chance you're curious, the answer I was looking for (this semester) is a third attributive (adjective). That's the pattern noun-definite article-adjective. When they get into actual syntax next year, it's an accusative in simple apposition: kyrion is the direct object, ton theon is an appositive.
Both their answers are wrong, obviously, but it was extra credit anyway.
Friday was a much less manic day than Thursday had been, even though it was my day to prepare dinner. That meant significantly fewer cooks in the kitchen.
Thanksgiving morning, I began the day as I always do when in child-infested territory.
By dragging my heels.
My wife can attest to the difficulties of dragging me out of bed when I don't want to be out of bed (like before noon on a Saturday or anytime she wants to go outside). Strangely, though, most of my heel dragging did not involve our bed while there.
We arrived at our location in West Virginia shortly after 10 a.m. Once there, we were greeted by my brother-in-law (the husband of Cain's wife) and a terrifying hound of hell.
And he was monstrous.
My father-in-law, his two single sons, and the Cains (x5) had come up the previous night. I must explain to you how inspirational this was.
Two weeks ago, my parents came way up here (as my father liked to remind us). Their purpose was two-fold: to visit us and to join us for Thanksgiving with my in-laws in the hills of West Virginia.
It's Saturday and there's a Christmas tree in my house. So I'm going to tell a story about the Space Monkey.
We have a living room (surprise!). In our living room there is a Persianesque rug that is entirely too close to burgundy (it's Cottage Red confound you!) for anyone's good. The rug sits in the midst of our sectional on three sides and the patio door on the fourth side. Nestled in the corner by the patio door is the television home entertainment unit.
But I didn't come here to describe my living room at you.
I describe it so you will understand that the rug occasionally gets bunched up on the entertainment unit. By occasionally, I mean every day because it gets pushed incrementally every time someone sits in the recliner.
We used to have a table on the middle of the rug, but that's now toiling underneath the Christmas tree.
Back when it was still in the middle of the carpet one time, the wife was sitting in the recliner in a reclined position. I decided I would adjust the carpet using my foot.
The Space Monkey fell to pieces.
Needless to say, I was a little surprised because I normally don't get to see her go from normal to lost-her-stuff without me trying. I asked what was wrong.
"Why is the table moving?!"
I let the question wash over me for a moment before I informed her that I was adjusting the carpet with my foot and it was moving the table. Then I demonstrated again.
After I comforted her (because that's the kind and loving husband I am), I was able to discern the reason she lost it so fast.
She thought an evil spirit was moving it.
Anyway, you didn't hear that from me, and I was never here.
My parents are returning home from their vacation way up here in the North. For me this marks the transition between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
My wife's family deeply enjoys the fact that I hate Christmas trees. It's that whole thing where I don't like wasting money on trivial things like decorations, relatives under 13, and my health.
So I'm thinking I might do the NaBloPoMo for December too. I already have three epic posts...titled. The time and energy simply elude me at the moment.
