Trex, the wonder decking material, rots. Not sure how old our back deck is, but the Trex has a few soft spots that just barely support an adult footstep. What brought this to my attention was when a soft spot gave way under my ladder a month and a half ago, dropping me 15 feet onto the deck and fucking up my right elbow (bone stick out!). It’s all put back together and healing fine I guess but it still fukkin hurts, I can’t extend my arm all the way and I can’t turn palm upwards. Awesome 8-inch ORIF scar, though. Having a daughter draw me a tattoo proposal to cover it next year. Looking like we’ll be going with Marceline the vampire queen wailing on her axe, and sporting a centipede body.
I’m down to just two 18 year old boys (and The Missus) living in the house. Think they can be troubled to do any work around the house? Clean up after themselves? Maybe tear off the rotten Trex and lay down some new stuff? Naw, not without someone standing by with a whip. One’s all set to move out in a couple months so that’s cool. The last one though, who isn’t my crazy one–he grew up & moved out in February, he may never leave.
And I don’t even want to get started on the goddamned dogs. I loathe the dogs.
I may rant in May. I’m painting a mural at the library children’s room. It’s a loverly scene from ‘Charlottes Web’. First, I’m doing this free. Second I had to buy the white paint. Lady librarian didn’t think white was necessary since the wall is white. What?
Third, this is the big bad one, I haven’t been able to paint but 2 days. The library has a room they use for community meetings ( Kiwanis and Rotary type things). I can’t paint those days. Lady librarian called me today, she wanted to make sure the mural is done before school is out. “Well, not sure. I need time to paint. I cannot finish if I’m not allowed in.” Bitch. (I didn’t say bitch to her, coz I’m nice.) She’s gonna see about getting me in on Sundays when the library is closed. Oh, great! Now I get to ruin a Sunday. Thanks, lady.
I’ve been having a particularly shitty past couple of months - as down as I’ve ever been - but I’m feeling so much better about a lot of things just for having made some positive moves. So I want to indulge myself with 1st world problem rant. It’ll make me feel better than dwelling on my actual problems. So …
I think my band is breaking up and I’m unhappy about that. Unfortunately it’s just a function of trying to keep a band together when all the members are over 50 and have day jobs. We only do about ten or so gigs a year - little 45 minute sets, usually with a couple other bands in tow. But we haven’t performed in months and we have nothing lined up. Worse, we haven’t practiced as a full band in over a month. Three weeks in a row now we’ve scheduled a practice only to have had to cancel for one reason or another.
Our old drummer wasn’t working out - he wanted more star-time and, frankly, his songs kind of sucked, so we got a new guy in who is a-fucking-mazing. Best drummer I’ve ever played with. But he’s also in a wedding band that makes actual scratch. We’ve already had to back out of a gig that would have been awesome. It was for a promotional event at a local brewery - we have an in and we performed there last year and it went great guns.
Not to mention that our lead guitarist is also in another working band and that has caused a cancellation or two as well. It sucks because I can’t really blame the other guys for their commitments. I really like them on a personal level as well as playing with them, it just sucks to be the *other *band they play in.
My neighbour is leaving for some appointment, but her mother is last in the driveway. So they gotta switch the cars. They are doing this as I pull onto to my street to come home. And they decide to stop in the middle, driver’s side to driver’s side, and have a conversation. While I’m waiting. Perfectly visible to both of them. Do they acknowledge my presence? No. Do they give give me the “one minute” finger? No. They ignore me and just chatter away. Finally, mom pulls back into the driveway so I can go by. And I guess the neighbour doesn’t like the look I give her as I go by.
So as soon as I’m out of the car it’s all “What’s your fucking problem!!??” I say “Oh, I dunno, a lack of basic respect?”, and she goes full tilt apeshit, screaming god know what (I’m getting my groceries out of the car and can’t hear her). At the end she’s yelling about how her husband is coming over in five minutes and then I’m going to be sorry. I said “You know where I live, I’ll be happy to talk to him”.
It’s been an hour and I’m starting to think he’s not coming. Which is weird because I’m about the least imposing looking individual you’d ever see. Guess we’ll find out if I’m getting my ass kicked eventually.
Your patience with “lady librarian” is … something. At some point patience when dealing with morons transitions from being a virtue to being a fault. “I need this wall mural done ASAP, for free, and by the way you’re not allowed in”? Nice. I probably would have told the lady librarian to fuck right off and do it herself at around step #2. I may or may not have dumped a can of paint on her head on my way out.
Wait, this is a small community where everyone knows everyone else and you have to be nice to each other, right? OK, I would have told lady librarian to fuck right off, nicely.
Still, I’m sure that your conscience and goodwill will make sure the mural for the children’s room is finished. Just make sure to add a distinctive feature to it celebrating the lady librarian by depicting someone who looks vaguely like her perfoming an unnatural act, preferably with a goat. Trust me, the children will be delighted.
Well, the pig has human facial features in my version. Yep, I’ll finish and on time. I always do. As far as seeing her, she’s kinda related to me, alas.
While you’re painting pictures of animals with recognizable human-like faces, keep in mind the priceless cover from the National Lampoon March, 1976 issue, celebrating the month of March with the theme “In like a lion”. I’m sure you can work Lady Librarian into that sort of theme.
I wish you luck in PT getting that elbow right. I did those boring-as-fuck PT exercises until I thought my head would explode and the therapist mentioned dry needling. I know people think that’s woo, but it made all the difference to me. No dinosaur arm!!
Hmmm, if you were Steve Lukather… wouldn’t you rather be in Ringo’s band than dreaming about a possible Toto reunion that’d play the Nebraska State Fair?
