Well, this is what I get for not posting in a month and a half. The site is all different, and I don't know what the hell's going on. I'm all confused! Sons of bitches!

Things have just been too crazy for the last several weeks, and I should have at least hopped on to say "Hey, I'm still here!" but I didn't. We moved, we got a dog (which I'm still questioning), I've been hella busy at work, and it's all just exhausted me to the point of not wanting to sit at a computer and babble - hard to believe, I know.

But don't worry, I've been saving little tidbits to ramble about, it's just a matter of getting around to it.

Hmmm, I keep trying to post this silly thing, but it won't go. Or at least it's telling me it won't go. I wonder if it'll be out there 50 times or something.


*BURN UPDATE* It doesn't like that my forearm is getting a little tan and getting closer to its color.

Well, we signed our lease Friday. A nice little two-story house here in town. Street seems quiet, we're near a park, and there's a bit of a yard for the puppy. Inside, stairs for the cats to race up and down on, nooks to hide in, and a pantry in the kitchen for Baby Cat to perch upon. I think we'll be happy, even though there's only one bathroom.

Not much else going on. I'm distraught over the end of "Friends," so we went and bought season 1 on DVD. Oh man, did I ever laugh my ass off Saturday night. Actually, the reason I wanted to get it is because Dave's grandma is very sick, and I wanted something to take his mind off that for at least a little while. He needed laughs.

It's too freaking cold for May, let me tell you. When you can see your breath at night, it's just not right.

Oh, we took Fat Mojo to the vet last week, and Dr. Jones couldn't find anything wrong. He checked both front legs and said he didn't feel anything out of sorts. So, he put Mojo on the floor to watch him walk, but all Mojo did was almost hide in the trash can, low walk, and try to get back in his cage. Low walking, in case you're wondering, is when he crouches down and runs. It's pretty amusing. Anyway, with the low walking, Dr. Jones couldn't see him limp of course, so the Mojo got a cortisone shot, and seems to be all better, so who knows what his deal was. He did let me know how displeased he was about the whole trip when we got home though. He yowled at me for a while and then punished me by going in another room to sleep. Mean, isn't he?


*BURN UPDATE* It wonders what all the fuss is about over the puppy.

Oh man, I wish I could tell you what I did Wednesday. It's a secret though, and I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell yet. If the curiosity starts to kill you before I can tell, too bad! I will tell you it's work-related, but that's all you'll get from me, for now. And that I'm proud to have been a part of it.

As a treat, and totally unrelated to what I did Wednesday, I'm taking Friday off from work. Major excitement, I know. We're going to go look at some rentals and then go celebrate our friend Rob's 30th birthday. I'll probably do some dishes or something too, to add to the excitement.

You know, Mr. Haus turns 30 in July and I'm trying to figure out what to do for that. Any ideas would be appreciated (I mean party-wise, for all you gutter brains).

Talked to Kim today, and realized that I cannot have kids. I worry enough about my sister, and I can't imagine the worry involved with a child. I think I should just have lots and lots of cats.

Speaking of cats, I don't think I ever mentioned some fabulous books I read a couple months ago. Or did I? Well, I'm telling now, so if I'm repeating myself, sorry. Cat people should absolutely read "The Cat Who Went to Paris," "A Cat Abroad" and "The Cat Who'll Live Forever" by Peter Gethers. (Yes Gethers, not Gathers) Even dog people would probably enjoy them. This cat is amazing! I cannot tell you how wonderful they are. You will laugh out loud, and if you have cats, you'll probably find yourself thinking "That's just like the time ..." Oh, and you'll want some tissues for "The Cat Who'll Live Forever." Luckily I was reading it around 4 a.m. and Dave was asleep so I could bawl my eyes out without being embarrassed. Yeah, that pretty much gives things away, but you should be more prepared than I was.

And also, speaking of cats, we think the Fat Mojo may have a touch of arthritis. He's been gimping around the last few days, and at first we thought it was his paw, but after poking at him and trying to inspect the suspect paw, we think it's his shoulder. He never made a sound when I was messing with his paw, so I don't think it's hurt. I really don't want to call the vet, but I know I should. We've had that cat to Dr. Jones way too many times. Thank goodness Sugar never gets sick!


*BURN UPDATE* It hates the rain.

Kindly ignore my last post. I was mistaken. I would much rather waste more than $15,000 on renting a house over the next two years instead of buying one on the off chance that we'd have to move and sell it. I'd much rather be stuck with whatever paint, carpet, etc. a rental has. Thank you.


*BURN UPDATE* Don't ask.

Ever wanted something so bad you absolutely can't stand it? So bad that it's all you can think about? All you can talk about? I have. It's called a house. A place where every room doesn't have off-white walls and tan carpet, where you can hang something up without worrying about losing part of your deposit because of nail holes, a place that doesn't have paper thin walls so you can hear the kid next door getting her butt smacked for being bad, a place where every check for X hundreds of dollars each month goes toward owning that place. Seriously, I absolutely CANNOT stand it anymore. I want rose-colored carpet in my bedroom with a painted border of roses and vines around the top of the walls and deep green curtains - not fucking beige horizontal blinds, deep green curtains. I want space in said bedroom to have a dresser and a real bed frame, not the stupid metal frame. I want a bathroom with black and white linoleum and counters to match my kick-ass shower curtain my sister made and my kick-ass bath accessories that I made. I want room to bring up the sewing table Dad made for my sewing machine. I want walls to hang shelves for my cute kitty knick-knacks.

I WANT I WANT I WANT!


*BURN UPDATE* It's grouchy.

Hmmmm should I start the same way as the last one? Wow, it's been a while, huh? But that's OK. All I would have done is bitch for the most part anyway. The reason for my lack of posting is that by the time I get home from work these days, the last thing I want to do is get back on a computer. BLEH!

Anyway, we did buy a truck, and we did get my window fixed, so that's good. The truck is a 2000 Chevy Silverado 4x4, a lovely blue. It's pretty cool, but not meant for short people.

Had a fabulous time with Jen & MB last month. Went out to lunch, dyed our hair, had some drinks, did the Mary Kay thing, and I got my iron-on from MB. Haven't put it on the shirt yet, but I will eventually.

It's 4 a.m. and I'm actually getting sleepy, so that's all for now.


*BURN UPDATE* I think it's losing its power; it looks a little fainter.

Wow, it's been a while, huh? I'm sure the two people who read this are pretty pissed, but I know you'll get over it. In my defense though, this is only partly my fault. Some nights, no, I didn't feel like getting back on the computer after work. Some nights Dave was working so I couldn't get on here.

Anyway, we've decided on a truck, and we're just waiting to get Dave's next paycheck so we can go put a downpayment on it. Woo-hoo! Then we can start saving money to get my stupid car window fixed, and start looking for a house to rent.

Something that needs to be done, like tomorrow (Wednesday, today, whatever - my days start around noon so I'm still on Tuesday ya know) What was I saying? Oh yeah, something that needs to be ASAP is mailing my T-shirt to MB so I can have my supamb.com shirt. Curious? Well, I'm not giving you the link! Ha! You have to go to www.supamb.com on your own and read her fantastic blog and find the shirt yourself! Work for it!

Speaking of MB, I get to see her and Jen on the 27th! YAY!q )That q is brought to you by Sugar Puddin' a.k.a. Jebus and Baby Cat.)

*BURN UPDATE* It's pretty pissed that it snowed just days before the first day of spring.



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Today was the best day! Know why? I went to the dentist! Bet you never thought you'd hear someone say that! But I just did, so cross that off the list of wacky things you'll never hear. I had a very decay-infested front tooth (gross, very gross, but that's what happens when you drink too much soda) and now it's fixed! I'm not embarrassed to smile anymore! Let me tell you, if for some reason you feel the need to go to the dentist, and you happen to be in Findlay, Dr. Mitchell is your man. He is so nice, obviously loves his job, and is fan-freaking-tastic at it. It's lame, but I almost cried going to the car, I was so happy with my "new" tooth. I owe it all to the Pammer, 'cause she made me go.

I'm still trying to find something to draw to look for any speck of artistic talent. I'd try to draw Baby Cat, but she moves too much, the little schizo. I'd try one of my Barbies, but I think it would be too much detail, plus eyes are hard! I can do the first one OK, but the second is never as good (I know this from my drawings of Fat Mojo). Maybe I should just stick to doodles, so as not to depress myself. But even if I can't find even a speck, I always have my craftiness and sewing ability, the latter of which seems to be a lost art.

*BURN UPDATE* It's jealous of my gums, lip and cheek for the large amounts of Novocaine they received today.

Hey, did I ever tell you that spellcheck always wants to change Findlay to fondle?

Election night, how do I hate thee? There are too many ways to count. But we made deadline, squished every stupid levy and primary race in, and ate our weight in junk food (everyone brings a tasty dish in on election night). And the incumbent county commissioner got the boot, so WOO-HOO! One down, one to go! On a sad note, I managed to get a paper cut UNDER the nail of my right index finger, and it bled and now it looks gross under my nail, and it hurts.

I have decided for some odd reason that I need to find out if I have any artistic talent whatsoever. I bought some colored pencils the other night, and I already have a lovely sketch pad and pencils, so I'm all set. Problem is I don't know what to draw, and I'm embarrassed to even try even though no one else will see it. How stupid is that?

I have a theory on this, though. In middle school (when you had no choice but to take art class) we had to draw/paint with watercolors a candy bar in three stages. 1. The whole candy bar, still in the wrapper. 2. The candy bar with a little of the wrapper peeled away with a bite taken out of it. 3. The wrapper crumpled up. I chose to do a Hershey's bar. I did a really good job, if I do say so myself. I even managed to mix the paints to the exact weird-ass color of the wrapper. I had never been so proud of myself! My art teacher said she was going to put it in the lame-ass middle school art show. I was so excited!

Art show rolls around, my beautiful Hershey's bar is nowhere to be found! I was heartbroken! And to top it all off, I never got it back! Because of this, I have to wonder if my mind and hands refuse to work together when I try to draw anything beyond 3-D boxes, stick figures or childish little flowers.

*BURN UPDATE* It's sleepy.

Yeah, I was totally unproductive this weekend. I did get some dishes done, but that's about it. Oh well, there's always Thursday.

Work sucked ass. That's all I'm going to say about that.

I saw a fabulous sign whilst browsing the AP photos tonight. It was out in San Francisco; I can't remember if they were at a protest or at the courthouse or what, but it said "Preserve Marriage Ban Divorce" That is exactly right. I still want to send some flowers out, but I'll have to wait until tomorrow. They are still marrying couples tomorrow, aren't they? I want to thank RevSpork's girlfriend for informing us all of these goings-on, by the way. Rock on!

Mom tells me our little Rusty has hurt his hind leg/paw. Rough-housing outside, no doubt. Silly puppy; I can't wait until we have him up here!

*BURN UPDATE* It wants to play Tetris.

I think I have a version of a cold. No stuffiness to speak of, but a terribly dry throat. Actually, my nose is pretty dry (and yes, I know how odd that sounds). Anyway, no matter how much water I drink I still feel parched. Poor Dani!

Maybe it's because I haven't had a soda in two days. I went to the dentist Wednesday, and I've been a bad, bad girl. I need lots o' fillings because I drink way too much soda. But Dr. Mitchell says he can save me (no, really, that's what he said) so I guess it'll be OK. Stupid girl.

A word to the wise: If you plan on being productive, don't get out the Tetris. Especially if you have a gamecube, because there are some crazy addictive games on there. I did get most of the dishes done, but I didn't even touch the bathroom or any laundry. I suppose there's always Saturday.

So, I realized today that in the next few months I'm going to need to start planning Dave's graduation party - or should I say par-tay, because it's gonna be huge! By that time we should be in a house (renting) so there will be room for more than five people to be there at the same time. If only BGSU's colors weren't orange & brown...maybe the history department has its own colors? Probably not.

I really want to redo my Web site, but I haven't been in a particularly creative or witty mood lately. Maybe inspiration will strike this weekend and I won't have to clean the bathroom. We'll see.

*BURN UPDATE* I think it tells Fat Mojo to be bad.


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It's so depressing finding out you really cannot hold your liquor. In the BGSU days, I could keep up with just about anyone, but no more. We went to the AMVETS Valentine's Day dance with Joy and Rodney Saturday night, and my buzz began with my first rum & coke. By the time I finished No. 3, it was all over. In my defense though, they were big glasses; they used those big red plastic cups. I was way too excited about the ham raffles and the door prizes, but that's OK. I had fun, and I didn't even get weepy until we got home!

Nothing else to report, sorry!

*BURN UPDATE* It likes my Garth Brooks Live CD.

Just a quickie 'cause my head is killing me. Star is back home, safe and sound. She was just two doors down from my parents' house, and they finally got around to calling the humane society Thursday, and found out where she belonged.

Fat Mojo is just fine. Apparently he just has some wacky "pigmentation" on the belly.

*BURN UPDATE* It's asleep.

Damn lunchlady bitch spit on my dessert today. My parents' puppy, Star aka Star-baby, is missing. She's been gone since Tuesday evening. I'm hoping that a well-meaning person picked her up and will see the signs and bring her home. You all had better stay away from me for a while, becuase my bad karma is apparently spreading.

No word on Mojo.

*BURN UPDATE* Who cares?

Oh, and no word on Mojo's biopsy yet.

As I stand in the line of the cafeteria of life, I look at my plate piled high with work casserole and financial casserole and say "That is so not what I ordered!" I take it back to the lunchlady of life and tell her she screwed up, to fix it but not to touch the personal dessert. She flips me off and piles more casserole on, but thankfully doesn't take my dessert. Well guess what lunchlady? I'm not paying!

I am so sick of playing catch-up, hurry up and wait, and all the other oxymoronic games that borderline sane people have to play. I'm sick of playing Capable Woman, Responsible Girl, Tough Lady and all the other stupid roles I have. I'm sick of smiling sweetly when I want to yell and scream and lock myself in the bathroom and cry. Thank God for Dave.

*BURN UPDATE* It's a damned ugly reminder of how stupid I am.



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I would like to apologize to Meijer for saying mean things about them. They still make their lotion tissues, and I stocked up last week.

Now, anybody who had a suck-ass Thursday raise your hand (or just a finger if it was really bad). We had a really bad Thursday, so I am currently flipping that day the bird. It started when I got home from work and saw Fat Mojo sprawled out on his back, presenting the belly. In and of itself, that's not a bad thing; it was the bare patch around his little Mojo nipple with the mole-like spots that was bad. We poked and prodded the belly, trying to feel if these spots were raised and trying to decide whether we should be worried. We decided they weren't really raised and that maybe we should worry a little.

So, after three hours of sleep, I got up and called Dr. Jones (the veterinarian, not the archaeologist) and got an appointment for 9:30 that morning. Took the fat cat up to Bowling Green, and Dr. Jones decided to do a biopsy just to be safe. I left the fat cat with the doctor, promising said fat cat that I would be back to get him that night. When I got home I was going to try and nap, but that didn't really happen. I think I dozed off and on for about an hour.

I was supposed to pick Mojo up between 7:30-8:30 p.m., and Dave gets home at 8, so I was going to leave a bit before 7 so we'd get home around the same time. Well, Dave got home at 6, and when I said "What the hell are you doing home?" he said "I just got in a car accident."

Nobody got hurt, don't worry, but the front of the car is smushed in a bit. I don't feel like getting into all the details, but we'll just say it involved an old lady who kept slowing down in the left lane and the guy behind her (not Dave) who was riding her ass and was just shy of a DUI.

So, about an hour later, after Dave had calmed down, we headed out for BG. It had started snowing at some point, and the interstate was a mess. We finally made it to Dr. Jones', got Fat Mojo, wrote out a big-ass check, and headed home. The interstate was even worse, so I wasn't going too fast. We got about halfway home, maybe 2/3 of the way there, and I saw a knot of traffic up ahead, so I started slowing down.

One car went flying by me on the left, and then a second car went flying by. As they got up to the little knot of traffic, the second driver realized that the first driver wasn't going as fast as him, so he slammed on his brakes. On the icy road. Do you see where I'm going with this?

As soon as I saw those brake lights, I said to Dave "Oh shit, this is gonna be bad!" Car 2 swung to the left, then swung to the right, into my lane, in front of a semi so I couldn't see what was going on. Then it swung back into the left lane, fishtailed a couple of times, and then slid into the median. I cannot express to you how scared I was.

We made it down the interstate - seeing a semi upright but jackknifed on the side of the road and a car in a deep ditch (well, not really seeing the car, just the headlights pointing up and towards us) - with no other near misses.

When we got home we discovered that Fat Mojo was still messed up from the anesthetic, which is funny now but was disturbing at the time. He didn't have total control of his back legs, so he was kind of stumbling all over. It was like he didn't know where he was. Dave had to help Mojo into the litter box, and at one point Mojo wandered into the bathroom and just stood there in the doorway. Mojo also managed to get behind the entertainment center and the washer and dryer. He seemed to want to eat, but I didn't know if it would make him sick, so I was all worried about that.

We may get the biopsy results as soon as Monday, but most likely Tuesday, so I'll keep you posted.

I know it probably doesn't sound like Thursday was that awful, but it was. It just was.

On a completely different topic, I just want to say that as much as the governor sucks ass, Ohio is still a good state. There are several issues knocking around in my brain - state-oriented and otherwise - but I just don't feel like getting political right now. Sorry.

*BURN UPDATE* It's trying to recruit the scar on my left ring finger.



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All is right with the world. My Harry Potter Goblet of Fire & Order of the Phoenix (GoF & OotP for those of you as obsessed as I am) have been returned. I loaned them to a lady in the rental office months ago and finally asked after them yesterday. I'm seriously going to have to rethink my borrowing system, or start charging fines like the library. But anyway, I can get started on OotP for the third (or is it fourth) time and get back to hunting for clues. I'm pathetic.

It's a damn good thing I don't have a bad back, because I'm pretty sure I'd have thrown it out several times in the last few days. Our landlord apparently doesn't believe in salting sidewalks or the parking lot, so there have been some rather painful and unnatural movements on my part. I've taken to kind of rocking from side to side as I take tiny little baby steps, because it seems to work for penguins. Although today I found myself shouting "Son of a bitch!" on my dinner break as I tried to make it to the building. Serious back and knee twistage, but I remained upright.

*BURN UPDATE* It's plotting against me with the scar on my shin.



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I keep forgetting about that article I wrote and said I'd post up here, but I finally remembered tonight, so here you go...It's not much, but it's mine. And the Courier's.



History und sausage

Learn about the life of James Thurber, then grab a bite to eat in German Village



By DANIELLE HAUS

ASSISTANT WIRE EDITOR





From the outside, the Thurber House at 77 Jefferson Ave. in Co­lumbus looks like most any other carefully restored home.

In fact, even with my mom, my aunt and myself looking for the former home of author James Thurber, we almost had to take a second lap around the circular road.

Inside there was a museum-like aura, but that was probably due to the near-silence in the building, because this is not your typical historical site.

No plastic runners to follow, no docents "asking" visitors not to touch anything, no velvet ropes keeping visitors out of rooms — the Thurber family wanted the house to be a com­fortable place to visit and work.

The house (which is reported­ly haunted) has been restored to reflect the period when the Thurber family lived there (1913-1917), and even the wall­paper designs have been duplicat­ed. Some rooms do double duty, like the dining room/gift shop or a bedroom/staff office, but peri­od pieces or memorabilia can al­ways be found, and Thurber-like drawings abound.

Six days a week, tours are self-guided with the aid of a laminat­ed brochure, and you can roam the rooms at leisure getting a close-up view of any little thing that catches your eye. On Sundays, tours are given by a staff member.

If you don’t want to cart the brochure around, outside the rooms there are small plaques with a drawing and a brief des­cription of the room. Inside the rooms a more detailed descrip­tion is available.

We started off by wandering through the comfortable parlor — "suitable for reading and light conversation" according to the plaque — and the living room, and then headed upstairs. We checked out the area at the top of the stairs, where we found, among other items, an antique dress and pair of very small, pointy shoes.

We laughed quietly at the size of the shoes, because we still couldn’t shake the be-quiet-you’re-in-a-museum feeling. That didn’t last too much longer though.

After looking at some Ohio State sports pictures in one of the bedrooms and a showcase of memorabilia in another bedroom, my companions browsed through the Thurber family pictures down the wall of the hallway, dis­cussing how they would make over Mame Thurber, James’ mother.

We looked through James’ bedroom, making sure to find him in the fraternity picture, and even peered into the closets. We were amused to find the scrawled signatures of (we assumed) past visitors.

One even claimed to have been "Thurbered."

After peeking into the bath­room where Thurber once hid from a ghost, we made our way downstairs into the dining room/gift shop. I listened for the ghostly footsteps that allegedly go around the kitchen table and then run up the stairs, but sadly I heard nothing.

After one more look at the liv­ing room, we left the quietness of the Thurber House for the hubbub of the original Schmidt’s Restaurant und Sausage Haus in German Village.

Schmidt’s, located in a former livery stable, has been around since 1886. They offer an original line of German and American food and drink, including Ger­man and micro brews.

We were seated in the room where the German Autobahn Buffet is located, and after squeezing between the tables we had a nice view down Kossuth Street. The restaurant was quite full, and as much as I tried not to listen, I heard many snippets of conversations from other tables.

This is definitely not the place for a clandestine meeting.

Despite the impression my last name may give, I am totally unfa­miliar with most German foods. I played it safe and ordered the Ba­hama Mama sandwich with pota­to pancakes, while my mom and aunt went for the honey roasted turkey Reuben.

After very little debate, the three of us decided to split one of Schmidt’s famous jumbo cream puffs.

A word to the wise — if you can’t handle spicy food, I’d try the "Milder Mama." I did my best, but I just couldn’t finish the sandwich. The turkey Reubens are fantastic, or so I’m told, and the cream puffs alone may be worth the drive.

I had been staring out the win­dow at Schmidt’s Fudge Haus und Gifts all through lunch, and my placemat told me to go see fudge being made, so we careful­ly made our way across the street — sleet had made for a slippery road that day.

The Fudge Haus is filled to the brim with candy, gifts and annoy­ing items that say "Try me" and make a lot of noise when you do. The guy behind the counter (Daniel) greeted us with a cheery "Hello," and I made a beeline for the fudge-making area. Alas, no one was there.

According to Daniel, things are a bit slow this time of year. He assured me, however, that the daily fudge making would re­sume in February.

After exploring the store, we made our purchases. The store apparently is frequented by Ohio State University football coach Jim Tressel, so I made sure to get a "Tressel Truffle" for my dad.

If you plan on using a credit card, make sure you have a min­imum of $10 worth of goodies.

Our next stop was The Red Stable, back towards Schmidt’s. I would have liked to have spent more time browsing through this little shop, but the weather was getting worse so we only did a quick walk-through. There are all kinds of little antiques, trinkets, steins and more.

I got the feeling that you may never know what you’ll find at The Red Stable.

Schmidt’s Restaurant und Sau­sage Haus is open from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. Sunday and Monday, from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday, and from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Friday and Satur­day.

Hours for Schmidt’s Fudge Haus have been shortened for the winter. Saturday is your best bet for a visit. Their hours should be expanding in the next few weeks.

The Red Stable is open from noon to 6 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday.



*BURN UPDATE* It's very angry today.



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Has it really been a week? What a bad seed I am! And nothing exciting has happened, so I have no excuse.

We went down to the Pammer & the Papa's house Saturday. Watched the tape of the previously mentioned ex-step-cousin on Maury. Lovely.

Also got to see our little Rusty! He's such a sweet little thing! Dad and mom say it's all an act, but I don't believe them. SO wish we could bring him up now!

Those nasty little pounds did leave, and they did take a couple of their friends with them, so I'll keep pluggin' along for now. If we go out for Valentine's Day though, I may have to splurge a little and have some chocolate cake or something.

*BURN UPDATE* It's cold and has goosebumps.

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