New Tattoo

So, I'm getting another one, and I'm not going to wait to lose more weight. Too impatient... I've always wanted a treble clef with a flower intertwined, but I decided to change it up just a little and incorporate a couple of things for the twins with the treble clef. I had a great conversation with the twins at lunch today telling them all about it, and getting their input. (They are very opinionated these days.)

Aunt Tammy - "Guess what?!? Aunt Tammy's gonna get another tattoo, and this one is going to be special just for Buddy and Ka-Diva!"

Twins - (smiles) "Yeah!"

Aunt Tammy - "I'm going to get a yellow flower just for Buddy." (because he LOVES picking yellow flowers)

Buddy - (HUGE smile) "Oh! Yeah!!!"

Aunt Tammy - "And I'm getting a pink and purple butterfly just for Ka-Diva."

Yeah...  Not QUITE what I had in mind...

 

Ka-Diva - (considering that, replies) "No. BIG BUG!" (she's all about the big bugs right now)

Aunt Tammy - (laughing) "Well, I don't know about a big bug. How about a DRAGONFLY?" (making that sound really cool)

Ka-Diva - "Ohhhh... Yeah... OKAY!!! DRAGONFLY!!! YEAH!!!" (I must have succeeded in making a dragonfly sound exceptionally cool )

Ka-Diva then proceeded to tell Christy that "Mommy needs to get a tattoo too!" Christy (the big chicken) refused. "Mommy's not getting a tatoo. That's Aunt Tammy's thing." So, Cool Aunt Tammy strikes again!

Thursday's Move Drama

So I got to the house today, and they STILL hadn't been there (ooohhh... SHOCKER!)... I called the realtor again, and once again, she avoided my call (another shocker, I'm sure)... "No big deal... I'll do it all myself!" I thought. "I'm a big girl. How hard can it be?"

I took the key to the adjoining unit out of the lockbox, climbed up on a stepladder, and switched my broken light fixture with their non-broken one all by my little lonesome self. Problem #1 solved. I used the always-certain, country-bumpkin method of duct-taping the gaping hole under my back door so the critters can't get in. Problem #2 temporarily solved. My mom vacuumed the place, and it was clean and livable, and I scheduled the carpet cleaners for Tuesday afternoon at 3:00pm. Problem #3 solved. Exterminator came and sprayed for everything to take care of Problem #4, and the telephone and water guys got me all hooked up. I was on a roll!!!

Then I went into the hall bathroom to find a beautiful WATERFALL trickling out of my LIGHT FIXTURE, down the wall, and puddling onto the floor! The crack in the back door... Livable... Niagara Falls in my guest bath... NOT livable!

So I call the realtor, only to be ignored yet again, and then I got mad. (You'd think I would have been mad before that, but Zoloft really does work wonders) I didn't want to do it, but she forced me. I had to call her office. I feel very sorry for the man who answered the phone because he got an earful. But he promised to track her down and call me right back. And five minutes later, he called and assured me that THIS TIME, she would answer her phone. :-)

THEN the fun started. About two hours after I finally spoke to my realtor, three trucks pull up to my house. My realtor and her husband went and pulled the builder off of a job site and dragged him and a couple of his workers back to our duplexes. Apparently, they had already fired him from other jobs, and are about to sue him for what he's done with this job (Gee... That would have been great to know BEFORE I signed the lease). My realtor's husband is also a builder and the two guys nearly broke into several fistfights over the course of two hours. I began to wonder, "At what point does one call the cops?"

So we have Incompetent, RUDE, Abrasive Builder who blamed everyone EXCEPT himself for his crappy work. (Did you know that it was MY fault things didn't get done because I wasn't at the house when he came by? Well, DUH, you freakin' idiot! I DON'T LIVE THERE!!! That went over really well with me. Moron.) We have Obnoxious, Know-It-All Builder (Realtor's husband) who was sure to point out numerous times how HE would have done things correctly because he "builds half-million dollar homes". We have Blonde Chick (My realtor) who is just that… Blonde. All three going at each other... Blonde Chick stuck in the middle because Incompetent Builder refused to speak to Obnoxious Builder directly. Incompetent Builder telling me and Blonde Chick that he'll give us the numbers of all of the subcontractors that he used to do the work and we can call them ourselves because he "just forgot about some of it." (Another thing that didn't go over well with me. I told him that is HIS job and I'M not doing it.) But mostly, Mom and I just sitting there cracking up because it was so funny…

They never did completely fix the water leak, but Obnoxious Builder figured out what the problem was. There was a broken pipe where the A/C is supposed to drain. But he temporarily fixed it… With duct tape, of course…

Stay tuned for more in the continuing saga… Friday is Christy and Sasha's turn to join in the fun! (Sash – Call me if you still want to come by. But you enter at your own risk! There's no telling what fun adventures lie ahead!

Impulsive Tammy Strikes Again!!!

Yes… I've gone and pulled one of my "let's make a life-altering decision in the blink of an eye" moves this week.

We all know how I get fidgety when I've been in one place too long. I need big changes to keep things interesting. I've been feeling that way since Christmas, and the Zoloft hasn't made it go away, so this week I decided to do something about it. My lease at my apartment is up at the end of the month, and the rent was going up AGAIN. I'm sick of paying what amounts to a mortgage on a crappy apartment. I'm sick of the noise and the sirens in the city, and I just want some stinking peace and quiet.

So brilliant me, decided that I can get more for my money in the country where the only noise I'll hear is the birds and the crickets (and the backfire of big cowboy trucks, and the occasional rifle shot, of course. That's okay... Cowboys are sexy. ). I went to my apartment office this morning, put in my 60 day notice, met with a realtor, and signed a lease for a GORGEOUS 3 bedroom, 2 bath BRAND SPANKING NEW (so new that it's not totally finished yet) duplex in Springtown of all places. And the rent is only $135 more than I pay for my dinky little 1/1 apartment! (Grammy did manage to convince me to try renting first. My original plan was to buy a house! Impulsive Tammy can be reasoned with a little bit anyway )

Before you all make fun of me for moving back to the place I couldn't wait to leave, bear in mind there is a Kohl's, Hobby Lobby, Lowe's, Home Depot, Kirkland's Home, Target, etc. not 15-20 minutes away now. No more having to drive 45 minutes to get to something good. I can have all of my stores nearby, but I can have some stinking peace and quiet while I'm at home. It will probably take some getting used to though. I already panicked a little because there was only one deadbolt on the door, and it can be opened from the outside. What happened to needing three locks??? I have the "safety" deadbolt that locks everybody out at the apartment! I have a feeling I'll be calling Jake and Sam for a while because I'm freaked out by the silence at night. They'll have to come sleep on my couch like the old days. Only this time, THEY can protect ME.

So, as of Friday, May 25th, I will once again be a resident of my hometown.

I think this life-altering, impulsive decision will turn out better than my $40,000 brain-fart when I up and moved to Portland. But then again... I never think my impulsive life-altering decisions are a bad idea at the time. Check back with me in a few months after I've been driving an hour each way to and from work every day and have spent $40,000 in gasoline alone. I might have changed my mind. But for now... I'm thrilled silly about living in a "nearly" house!

Wish me luck! (And if you are an able-bodied male-type person, give me a call! I can put you to work! )

The Brutal Honesty of a Two-Year-Old

Buddy and me playing... Me on the couch, Buddy holding my hands jumping and jumping trying to see how high he can go... Buddy jumps over my head and says, "Uh-oh..." I say, "What?" Buddy pats the top of my head and once again says, "Uh-oh..." I become indignent... "Are you pointing at Aunt Tammy's white hairs?!?" Buddy snickers and says, "Yessss..."

Ahhh, yes... Nothing like the brutal honesty of a two-year-old...

I'll be coloring my hair this weekend.

Random's Ramblings #1

I hate to sweat. Sweating is yucky. It feels gross, and it makes you smell bad. I came to this brilliant realization yesterday as Christy and I were leaving the gym, and non-suspecting members of the public ran away from us. I would like to believe they were merely intimidated by our newfound bodybuilder physiques, but seeing as how we've only been working out for three weeks, I think I'm leaning more towards the "Please don't poison us with your toxic sweat fumes" excuse. Why people choose the gym as their ideal location to pick up a mate is totally beyond me. Maybe I'll understand it better when I have my "tenderloin" body and men will fall at my feet whether I reek or not.