Gigantic Rats

When I saw this article, I totally thought of my one joke item on my Amazon wishlist.

Florida and U.S. officials are trying to raise enough money to capture and kill off the Gambian rats that have proliferated on Florida's Grassy Key Island, just a few miles from the coast of one of the country's most populous states... Darin Carroll, of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, is on a quest is to prove what many scientists suspect: that the 3-pound rodents caused a monkeypox outbreak in the Midwest in 2003 that sickened dozens of adults and children with a virus related to smallpox.

First off, monkeypox? Am I the only one that thinks that sounds funny? Not chickenpox, but monkey. Zany!

And secondly, three pound rats? Scary. And I've seen huge rats before. My dad's barn became infested with these humongous rats one time. So he got a few kittens to take care of the rats. The rats found one of the kittens to be a tasty treat (to my utter horror) and so my dad moved on to plan B. He rigged up a metal sheet with a battery and put peanut butter in the middle. Anything that made the mistake of stepping on this sheet was electrocuted like a criminal in Texas. Back when electrocutions were still in style. And thus ended the rat infestation.

In the Slammer

This is what happens to dogs who won't stop jumping on me, for crying out loud.

Gimme!

Since I spent waaaay too long putting together an Amazon Wishlist, I thought I'd link to it so that I'll feel like it was semi-productive. I actually put thought into it and only put things on there that I'd really like. That was harder than one might think, because I'm pretty cheap and picky, so it's hard to break out of my "if I don't want anything, then I don't feel bad when I'm miserly and don't buy anything" mode. That really is hard for cheap people to do, to waken their child-like - for lack of a better word - greedy side.

And you never know, someone out there might be all generous and buy me something. Or it just might help out friends/relatives who feel obligated to spend $25 or less on me. Merry Christmas!

The Latter is Perhaps Tastier

Here's some holiday trivia for you. Did you know that fruitcake has the same density as mahogany wood?

Opting Out

I've taken two steps to get rid of unwanted soliciting. And no, this isn't a lame advertisement. Though I can't guarantee that it's not lame.

First, I called 888-5-OptOut in order to stop getting pre-approved credit card offers in the mail. I've ranted about it before, how I get a TON of them all the time, and how I have to shred every one of them (or worry about identity theft). Plus, it annoys me that they waste plastic on those fake credit cards and fill landfills even though I obviously wasn't interesting in the last 10,000 offers I got in the mail the week before. So far I haven't gotten any more offers. You can opt out for five years, and if you change your mind, you can call the same number to resume receiving a bajillion offers in the mail like before.

Then I added mine and Brandon's cell numbers to the do not call registry. For some reason Brandon has been getting these super-lame recorded advertisements from this mortgage company on his cell phone. Isn't it illegal for telemarketers to call cell phones? I thought it was. Anyway, if telemarketers call your number 31 days after you signed up for the registry, you can file a complaint against them on the website. Pretty sweet, and I'm sort of hoping they still call just so I can get the satisfaction of filing a complaint against them. I'll take whatever opportunity for revenge that I can get.

So anyway, I hope this is helpful in some way for you. I think it'll get rid of at least two annoyances in my life. Two down, 10,000 to go.

P.S. An article on a related note.

Post-Thanksgiving Talk

Brandon had his first southern Thanksgiving this year. His first experience eating at my Grandma's house was at Christmas, so he learned then that it's important to watch what I put on my plate and mimic it. Or else he could run into something his fine Californian tastebuds aren't accustomed to.

One year, my grandma decided to cook most of the Thanksgiving dinner and then warm it up later. This would be less hectic for her (avoiding the cooking of the whole meal in one day), because she is getting older, as grandmothers and humans in general are prone to do. However, this strategy included freezing the deviled eggs. Did you know that microwaved deviled eggs have the texture and consistency of plastic? And that the dog will simply sniff the deviled egg that you kindly offered him and skitter off, unaffected by your annoyed tone when you call "come back here, you ingrate!" after him? Well, it's true.

Foods that Brandon managed to avoid this year? Collard greens, boiled with bacon. Giblets and gravy. Oh! And stuffing with oysters. You read that right. Oysters in the stuffing. Mmm, mmm!

Southern Foods

That Brandon doesn't like:

- Grits
- Boiled peanuts
- Black eyed peas (the food and the band)
- Butter beans
- Okra (too gooey)
- Collards
- Turnips

Thankfully, I'm not terribly tempted to cook any of these anyway.
What about you guys out there? Are there any southern foods you hate?

Pre-Thanksgiving Talk

For Thanksgiving Brandon and I will be visiting my hometown. We'll eat Thanksgiving lunch with my mom's side of the family, for which I will be cooking green bean casserole and perhaps a pumpkin pie. Know what? I've never cooked green bean casserole. And out of all the times I've eaten it, I've enjoyed it once. But it seemed easy and Thanksgiving-y, and so I figured I'd give it a shot. Perhaps the fact that I cooked it will make it taste extra yummy. Plus I'm thinking of substituting the cream of mushroom soup with cream of mushroom soup with roasted garlic. I know, my ingenuity is astounding.

Brandon gets back tonight, and it should be interesting to see if his flight will be delayed because of all the people flying during the holiday.

In case you take your Thanksgiving blog hiatus early this year, have a great Thanksgiving and keep it real.

Networking in DC

By the way, did I mention Brandon's in Washington DC this weekend? Well he is. Anyway, he was able to meet Paulo the other day, and Paulo, being cool like he is, already blogged about it.

Sigh. I miss him. I know, it's only a few days, but still.
So yeah, I'm alone, so if you wanna talk, give me a call. Until then I'll be doing things out of boredom, like cleaning, and dying my hair.

Waiters and Sympathy Laughs

I just read a post by Rachel at Beautiful Feet about an overly attentive waitress they encountered at a restaurant, and that reminded me of our similar experience.

We love us some Outback Steakhouse. I used to go there for the grilled chicken, but now (since they replaced their BBQ sauce with sludge) I'm mainly drawn there because I really like their house salads. Anyway, here's how our first interaction with our waiter went.

Waiter: Hey you guys, welcome to Outback! Can I start you off with a couple of down under margaritas?
Me: No thanks, I'll just have a diet coke.
Waiter: Aw, not feeling adventurous? The margaritas are top-knotch!
Me: (Making the stupid decision to convey any personality or humor) Do you know how much booze I could buy at the grocery store for the same price as that margarita?
Waiter: Ha! Well let me know if you change your mind.

Seems innocent enough, right? From then on he visited our table every five minutes, refilling drinks that were 3/4 full, asking us what we were doing that night and jokingly (I hope) asking if he could join us, and making more lame jokes for which I felt compelled to be polite enough to offer a sympathy laugh. Maybe he liked us because we were nice and he didn't really have any other customers to entertain him. At any rate I started to dread his constant visits, because my people-pleasing tendencies (yes, I have them, and the only explanation I have is that I'm southern) made me feel like I needed to be super nice, laugh at his jokes, and not tell him to go away, because my husband and I wanted to have a conversation, or eat, or talk about him freely.

It's weird, I'm so used to having waiters that ignore me. Waiters that are overattentive seem to be rare, but I'd still take an unattentive waiter over an overattentive one. Because there are only so many sympathy laughs I can dole out on a single night.

I Will Remember You (and your teeth)

Two things I always remember about people: their teeth and their eye color.

I always notice people's eyes first. And even if I can't remember their name, I can tell you what color their eyes are. That Jillian girl from first grade? Dark brown. My math teacher who talked like she had peanut butter behind her front teeth? Light blue. Seriously, if I've met you, I probably know what color your eyes are. Unfortunately, that's not really a skill that pays off, ever.

As for people's teeth, that's probably something I'd prefer not to remember in most cases. Because most people? They generally don't have great teeth. I can think of a few people off the top of my head whose teeth I'd describe as "rodent-esque", buttery, or English. Not that I have amazing teeth, but they're straight (yay braces!) and pretty white.
Who do I think has great teeth? Reese Witherspoon.


See? Pretty teeth! I'm sure she probably has veneers, but still. Totally worth the money.

I'll Review You Alright

What do you know about me? Welp, I'm nothing if not cheap. And I'm all about earning money with my free time. And aside from selling knives or doing telemarketing, this is probably my best shot.

Yes kids, this is a sponsored post.

I done caught the reviewme epidemic that's going around blogland. But come now, can you blame me? Getting paid to write? Well that right there is a little piece of heaven.

I do like writing reviews of products/services anyway. Like my little Kashi review a few posts down. And my complaint about Outback, and their stupid decision to change BBQ sauces. And I've even mentioned my love for stuff on my cat many times.

Yeah, I do feel slightly like a blogwhore. And yes, I'm trying to justify myself with the 200 words I'm required to write about reviewme. But I'll tell you one thing. If reviewme is a scam, I'm so writing about it. And another thing about me? I LOVE LOVE LOVE ranting about things that have done me wrong. Ranting's what Wendies do best. That and sleeping. And drinking tea.

Don't worry, my writing will still be as entertaining as it ever was. I don't even know how often I'll review things anyway. But we'll see how this goes, and if it sucks, I'll end it. Because that's how I roll.

Some Things Never Change

On Friday night we had just finished eating dinner and were in the parking lot of Outback Steakhouse when Brandon suggested we go to Blockbuster to rent a movie.
"No, I refuse."
"Why? It'll be fun."
"It will not be fun! You will hold me hostage in there for hours while you peruse every single used movie until you find one - ONE - that you want to buy, and then insist on finding two more because it's 3 for $25. And then we'll end up with one good movie, and two movies that I'm ashamed to own."
"That won't happen."
"Yes it will! How else do you explain the fact that we own Mr. Deeds?"
"This time will be different."

He did slightly trick me this time. I forgot the trick he always used to use, the "I don't have a blockbuster membership" trick that works because it seems easier to just buy rather than join. This time there was a 2 for $20 deal, and we were able to find two movies that we both wanted to see; Capote and Good Night, and Good Luck. We watched Capote that night, and haven't gotten around to Good Night, and Good Luck.

*Possible spoiler ahead.*
*Definite disclaimer ahead.*
I don't claim to be great at analyzing movies or reviewing them, so I realize that what I say below has probably already been said, and been said far better. But that obviously isn't going to stop me.

I was talking about the movie Capote with a friend (hi, Eric!) who had seen it. He didn't like it because he couldn't understand how Truman Capote could sympathize so much with murderers who had committed such a heinous crime.
Why would someone help these people? Why would Capote get so close to Perry Smith? Why would he help them by getting them a lawyer and getting their death sentence pushed back?
It was obvious that Capote wanted to get more information out of them to write his book (In Cold Blood). And really, there have probably been very few murder cases where people have had the opportunity Capote had to analyze each standpoint, dig into the details, understand motives and get up close and personal with the case. But also, I could understand him sympathizing with Smith because they had similar childhoods, being passed around either by family members or foster homes and never feeling very loved. Of Smith, Capote said, "It's as if Perry and I grew up in the same house. And one day he stood up and went out the back door, while I went out the front."

I've always found murder stories to be intriguing. It's interesting to analyze people who have crossed the line of normal human behaviour. What happened? Did they build up to it after slowly being desensitized? Is it that they were neglected as children and never learned to love, sympathize, discern right from wrong? And because of lawyers and simply the justice system, it's not terribly common for people to have such a clear view of the whole scope of an incident like the murder of the Clutter family.

"Two worlds exist in this country: the quiet conservative life, and and the life of those two men - the underbelly, the criminally violent. Those two worlds converged that bloody night."

It's easy to understand the intrigue of the case, harder to understand any sympathy one might feel for the killers. I guess that's why the movie is so interesting.

Getting My Health On

In an effort to become more healthy, I've started buying Kashi brand snacks. I have to admit, they are slightly tasty. But they're not great, like gushers great or nutter butter great, mainly because they're, y'know, healthy.

First I tried the TLC (tasty little crunchies) Pumpkin Spice Flax. First of all, crunchy? That's an understatement. DO NOT BITE THESE WITH YOUR FRONT TEETH. Seriously, your teeth will break off. Bite them with your front molars. Or else you'll lose your front teeth, and then no one will care if you're healthy and hot because you will look imbred, and imbred is not hot. Unless you want to be hot by other imbred folks' standards. Anyway, flax is supposed to be really good for you. The bar has 4 grams of fiber and 6 grams of protein, which should make you feel full. The bar has a pretty good flavor if you like pumpkin spice. Would I recommend it? Sure, but make sure you have something to drink (it's dry) and seriously, be careful with your teeth.

Next, I tried the TLC Peanut Peanut Butter granola bar. That's right, it's got peanut in the name twice. They're serious about some peanuts. Although I'm not sure I've actually ran into a peanut yet. Anyhow, this bar is pretty good. The flavor of peanut butter isn't terribly strong in comparison to Quaker brand peanut butter granola bars (despite Kashi putting peanut in the name twice), but that's probably because of the whole healthy thing. This has 4 grams of fiber and 7 grams of protein, so y'know, it's good. Would I recommend it? Sure, but once again, it's dry. Have water on hand.

It's true, not all health food tastes like cardboard. But it's still not crave-worthy, either.

Fun with Clairol.com!

Look how much fun Clairol.com is! They have this "try it on studio" thing where you can upload your picture and see how you'd look with different hairstyles. So I did the Dane a favor and tried out a few hairstyles on him. Let's take a look!


This is the Dane as a Backstreet Boy. It's the least I could do, making him look like a Backstreet Boy, since his boy band fell through when he sneezed and hurt his back.


And this is the Dane with remarkably bad hair. I think this is the closest hairstyle to that of a Mole that one could get.


And last but not least, an updo for when the Dane goes to prom. You are welcome, the Dane. You are welcome.

There's No Place Like Home

Last night Jessica messaged me on AIM, "Wow, you practically live online." Thankfully, for once, I was actually gone (community group meeting), which prompted my auto-response, "I wandered off. Don't take it personal." To which she replied something like "Haha, guess not."

Actually, I guess I do sort of live online. I spend more time in front of a computer on a daily basis than I spend doing anything else, even sleeping. The majority of my work experience has included computers and the internet. Much of my leisure time is spent online as well.

It started around 7th grade when my friend got the internet at his house. It was quite primitive at the time (if I remember correctly, the screen was black and green) but he could still use chatrooms. It was so cool! You could talk to people that you don't even know, and maybe they might think you're really as cool as you say you are, or pretend they believe you because you're nice enough to pretend you believe them. Then my dad got a computer, so I started spending more time at his house. I remember how ignorant I was at first, not even knowing how to email (I actually tried to type an email address into the address bar). But then in 10th grade I started dating an undeniable computer nerd who introduced me to ICQ and AIM, Metafilter and The Onion. Oh, and to blogging. And now look at me, all addicted.

In the time that I've spent blogging, I've seen a lot of bloggers from the "blogging community" quit. Either they've had a bad experience due to something they said, simply grown tired of it, needed to express their dramatic side, or simply realized that all blogging is vanity. I guess I just haven't done any of that yet. For now I like blogging, and I like the internet, my home sweet home.

Because I Haven't Subjected You to a Quiz Lately

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic

Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few. But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky. Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

Sweet Green Things

Since I'm on the subject of things Brandon doesn't like, I thought I'd talk about how much he hates the nickname "sugar booger."

My dad called me that sometimes when I was little, and I never thought a thing about it until Brandon's repulsed reaction to the name. I suppose it is more of a southern thing, making bodily excretions into nicknames by rhyming them with a pleasant word.

Can you think of any more cool southern nicknames?

Man of the House

Now that Brandon works from home, he spends most of his time there. So I jokingly call him my house-husband. And I say cute things that he totally loves like "For a house-husband you sure don't cook and clean very much." And, "I've got to go to work so I can bring home the bacon."

I must admit, I do envy him a little. He doesn't have to brave traffic because we live on campus. He gets to sleep in a little longer than I do, because he can totally work in his pajamas now. Could it get any better than being able to work in your pajamas? I didn't think so.

I love my house-husband.

Gubernatorial Matters

Let me begin by quoting Brandon:

How come all of the candidates are fat white guys?

Welcome to the south, my dear. Welcome to the south.

Georgia's gubernatorial race is definitely less exciting than California's last one. But then, everyone and their mama ran for governor then. In fact, a socialist candidate came to my history class back then. He had a rabid groupie who smelled like body odor. And I believe the rabid groupie threatened the class when someone asked a question that the great socialist couldn't answer.

To be fair, it would be terribly difficult for Georgia to beat that kind of excitement. But it could try.

In Case You Didn't Get That I Love Fall

I was recently asked how I felt about Atlanta now, and I must say that my attitude has changed. Fall has gone and won me over, at least a little bit.


I'd probably love to live here if summer weren't absolutely intolerable (couldn't think of an appropriate way to describe my raging hatred of summer in hot-lanta). But I love the changing of the seasons. It's something that I missed so much in California, feeling change in the air, saying goodbye to summer.


I hardly appreciated the beautiful days in California because every day was beautiful. Spring, summer, fall, winter. The only difference seemed to be in precipitation. But here there are storms, real ones, with lots of rain and lightning. You have to change out your wardrobe from cooler clothes to warmer. You really need an umbrella. And it's pretty necessary to check the weather forecast.

All of the weather stuff and changing of seasons may sound sucky to some. Some prefer to have pleasant weather all year and perma-summer. I'm just not one those people. Which is probably why living here is becoming more tolerable.

Running with Scissors

If you're going to see Running with Scissors, you may want to stop reading. Y'know, because of the spoilers. However, if you've read the book, you might as well keep reading because you already know this stuff. Here we go.

I didn't like it as much as I thought I would. I read the book a few months ago, and I liked it, so I really wanted to like the movie as well. But here's the thing. When you're reading the book, things seem more funny than depressing. You can find humor in it despite the fact that Burroughs was given away to his mother's shrink at the tender age of 14 because that's just so crazy. But to see it portrayed, you can't ignore how sad it really is. When I saw the previews, I thought it was odd how this movie seemed so very funny and likable. I mean, the book had its funny parts, but I couldn't see how it could be made into a movie that could be enjoyed by the majority of audiences.

Out of all the movies I've seen that are adapted from a book, this was the most accurate. I couldn't recall certain parts, such as Neil nearly killing Dr. Finch and Agnes giving Burroughs money at the end. Also, Agnes was portrayed as more of a mother-figure, and her relationship with Burroughs seems more sweet than it ever did in the book. I also don't think it clearly showed that Dierdre was being sexually abused by Dr. Finch, though that seemed to be more of a strong suspicion in the book anyway.

The main difference in the book and the movie is that you see Burroughs' reactions to the events in his life. You see the pain in his eyes when his mother is on another one of her crazy fits. You see his horror at having to stay in the Finch house, living in squalor. The funny parts are stifled by the depressing experiences he goes through. In the book, he sounds objective. His pain is less of an obstacle for the reader in order to enjoy the humor. I walked away from the movie thanking God that my mother was not crazy, that she loved me and was mentally sound. After reading the book, I walked away thinking wow, he's been through some crazy stuff. What happens next?

So to sum up, Running with Scissors wasn't awful, but it wasn't as good as I hoped. It was depressing, and the previews made it seem far funnier than it was.

Delayed Weekend Talk

So it's Thursday, but I figured I'd write about our weekend because I hadn't yet, and I know how much people love to hear about mundane things.

We visited my hometown in southern Alabama, which I know, totally sounds wild, but it was actually pretty laid back. Brandon got to shoot a little while with my dad on Saturday, while I amused myself by trying to make my dad's dog, Molly, stop jumping on me for crying out loud. Molly has gone to doggie obedience school, but for some reason she only listens to my dad.
I say, "NO! NO DO NOT JUMP ON ME MOLLY OR I WILL HIT YOU. No, down. I SAID DOWN. DOWN!"
And she hears, "YOU HAD BETTER JUMP UP ON ME WITH THOSE MUDDY PAWS, BECAUSE I LIKE THAT SORT OF THING. I MAY BE YELLING AND FROWNING, BUT THAT JUST MEANS I REEEALLY WANT SOME ATTENTION."
Just a miscommunication, really. Here's Molly during a brief moment when her paws were on the ground:


We finally visited Corrie and Erick, after I saw Erick at Willie T's and found out that no, they weren't avoiding me, and yes, they don't know how to check their messages on their home phone or their email. But I forgive them because I like them and they are new parents so it's understandable, their lack of correspondence, plus Brandon and I hadn't gotten to meet their new baby yet. So we went to their house Saturday night and watched a movie and played Battle of the Sexes, which is much harder than you'd think. Corrie and I won because, as you know, girls rule. And their baby didn't even scream all that much. That's good for a two-month-old, right?

My dad accompanied us to the wildlife refuge on Sunday, where we did not see much wildlife but we did see lots of trees and water and bugs. Here's a pic:


Anyway, to sum up; bad dog, good weekend, fall rules.