One of those small, manageable posts I promised you

Blame Canada

Okay, I normally don't care about the Olympics.  It's just sports, and the fact they only happen every four years and the whole world participates doesn't really make it any less stultifying to me. 

But I have to say, these Winter Olympics are making Canada look like a real asshole.  First Canada killed that poor Georgian luge runner (my suggestion?  Don't line the track with huge deadly metal posts.  How about some nice memory foam or something?)  Then yesterday from what I saw most of the downhill skiiers wiped out, one woman barely ten feet out of the gate.

This morning I saw on "The Today Show" because of the huge failure rate Canada is changing the downhill course for subsequent events to make it safer.  If I were one of those competitors who saw my Olympic dream come crashing down because Canada can't design a course properly, I'd be pretty fucking miffed.

I mean, COME ON.  These are supposedly world-class athletes who know what they're doing, one would hope.  They aren't Natasha Richardson (RIP), for crying out loud.  Doesn't anyone in Canada test these things before inviting the whole world to come play in their backyard?

Blame Canada!

ADDENDUM:  No, I don't much care about the Games, but Shaun White did kick some major snowboarding ASS.  Why did anyone else even bother to enter the event?

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She Makes It Impossible NOT to be Suspicious

Some very mysterious goings-on over at Tracey FCW's house, very mysterious indeed. 

I was happily working one afternoon when I heard a mighty pounding outside my door.  Unsure if it were my door being pounded, I dashed downstairs.  Both cats were instantly at my ankles to defend me (okay, that might not have been their actual intention). 

'Twas not, but rather a clean-looking guy banging insistently on Tracey's door.  As I watched, he leaned against the wall waiting for a response.  When one didn't appear, he flipped open his cell phone angrily and made a call.  I could hear him clearly.  "Tracey, I'm at your house.  I just want my computer.  I don't know what the hell's going on, I just want my computer."  

He pounded some more, and jabbed at the doorbell.  Finally to my surprise he tried the knob and the door was unlocked.  He stepped right in, emerging a minute later with a laptop under his arm.

Well, I was glad he got his stuff back.  My big question was where were the fucking dogs??  The fucking dogs who bark all day and some of the night at NOTHING, and here was a bona fide B&E in progress and they were NOWHERE.  The only options I can think are A) Tracey was gone and took them with her.  Only she'd be pretty damn stupid (or scatterbrained) to leave her door unlocked, and the dogs never get to leave except on very brief bathroom breaks about once a month.  Which leaves only B) She was home and doped up and/or sleeping, with the dogs doped up to let her sleep. 

It's precisely because of her that we can't realize our dream of having a screen door that we might leave open during the summer.

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Tax Refunds=Home Improvements

Tery and I both have some sizable tax refunds coming, her because she bought a new car, me because the silver lining of my ER visit is I can claim all those medical expenses. 

Our first thought was to put in a nice security screen door, but incidents like the above would make that a waste of money, as we'd never be truly comfortable having it open. 

Our second thought is for our horribly dated 80's bathroom sink.  No really -- the sink itself isn't THAT awful (except for the corrosion surrounding the spill hole), but the vanity top is this horrible "marbleized" laminate that really has to be seen to believe it's hideousness (I'll provide before/after photos for sure).  

Still, it doesn't hold a candle to the ceramic tile in our entryway.  It's shit brown with inexplicable brownish-orange splotches that look like someone vomited all over it.  

This I do have a picture of, sadly for you 

You have to wonder what kind of sick mind could design such repulsive decor.  We've been covering it with a sheet of vinyl flooring, but then Tery decided to pull it up and when trying to put down the second sheet we had left, she screwed up cutting it so it's garbage.

You have to look long and hard to find anyone who won't tell you "Just pull out the tile and put down new."  Before realizing what juicy refunds we were getting, this sounded expensive and difficult, and I'd still rather spend the money on the sink. 

I FINALLY found someone who suggested painting the tiles.  There is still an army of naysayers who insist this is a waste of time, just pull up the old tile and put down new.  But we've bought the paint already so at this point we don't have much to lose.  It's floor paint designed for a patio, so here's hoping it's durable enough.  If it does work, I love the idea of being able to change the design/color if/when we get tired of it.

Before/after photos are promised!