Saturday, June 15, 2013

Crappy Weekend Powers, Activate!

A bit pissed off this morning.  It's funny, how raccoons seem to set me off.

A few years back, a blossoming friendship died hard because the woman was looking to kill a family of raccoons that was living in a tree at the back of her property.  This was in the west, where raccoons aren't feared as high-risk vectors for rabies.  She was looking to kill them because, apparently, that was easier than NOT LEAVING HER DOG OUTSIDE 24/7, UNATTENDED.

Sorry.  You leave a dog outside, unattended, around the clock?  You suck, and you shouldn't have dogs.  If you don't want a pet that lives in your house, don't have pets.  I've known a lot of outdoor dogs, and I've never known one that doesn't drive neighbors crazy with the barking and scratching and howling borne of boredom and exposure to the elements.  The owners don't THINK the dogs are like this because the dogs often AREN'T like this when they know their owners are home.  But the moment that car leaves the driveway, Fido's barking his behind off, and keeps it up all day.

Anyway, back to the raccoons.  Signed onto Facebook this morning to find a post from someone (not the woman I speak of above) who is all about woo, religion, veganism, and all-around touchy-feely-ness.  A post detailing how she's looking forward to "eradicating" the raccoon under her porch, saying it's going to be "loud, quick, and brutal."

Under the porch?  That means there's a gap there.  Do something about it.  You have local wildlife rescues--call one.  They make repellants--use one.

I'm reminded of a FORMER Facebook friend who was all about woo and feel-good crap, always on about "karma" and "harmony."  Think "crazy lady with cats."  Well, this particular crazy lady had pet doors and allowed her cats to roam freely.  Because, gosh, who could be so cruel as to thwart their wanderlust?  One day, she comes online asking for advice on how to get rid of the birds of prey that have taken to hanging out in the big trees behind her house.  By her reckoning, they were there for her cats.  I said, "Since the birds belong there (and are protected), you might want to keep your housepets in the house.  It's safer for them all-around."

Bam, end of that--she didn't just ditch me, she blocked me.  Of course, that wasn't the first time I'd illuminated the contradictions between how she spoke and how she lived--this was the woman constantly on about environmental issues and climate change, yet she's got a big SWIMMING POOL in her Arizona back yard.  Talk about a spectacular waste of water, huh?

Anyway, now the Facebooker is saying that 50% of all raccoons have rabies.  Okay, whatever you say.  You've shown yourself to be resistant to reason before, and I'm too tired and stressed to push now.  But if FIFTY PERCENT of raccoons have rabies, you should probably call in a professional eradicator.  Just to be on the safe side.


Speaking of stressed, still no answer from the landlord.  It's been--what?  Four days?  Four days, and no answer on the "will you renew the lease" question.  If you don't think THAT'S got me utterly pitched.  Plus the handyman, who has until TODAY to fix those cables, hasn't shown.  Oh, and we're UTTERLY out of money until payday.  We have enough pocket change to get some lettuce and potatoes at the Farmer's Market.  That's it.

What a mess.


Almost my birthday.  No money to get anything I really want.  Usually I'd go for flowers--that's a fairly cheap, happy thing, but I have too many flowers already, and anything I might want we can't afford.  We did grab a five dollar plant at the Farmer's Market, but then broke it in the trunk.  LOL, don't I feel pathetic?  On the bright side, we found a female sparrow caught up in the stairwell at the parking structure, and she was beating herself nearly to death smacking against the windows trying to escape.  I caught her with my hat, hubby brought her outside, where she promptly flew into the glass door.  I reached down, pressed a finger against her chest, and she perched on my finger.  Took her away from the glass, and she just hung out on my finger for a few minutes until she had calmed down, stopped panting, and stopped trembling, and then she flew off, quite competently, seemed no worse for the wear.  I had a look at her--beak and vent seemed fine, I don't think she was damaged, just confused and scared.  I feel good about it.


The repair guy just called back, said he'll be here in a half-hour.  I'm not feeling good about this--guy waited until the last possible moment (this work has to be done by TODAY), and he has a bad habit of not doing what he's supposed to be doing.  But he's the landlord's handyman, and that means he's who we go to.  We don't have the money to go to anyone else.  Wish us luck.


Getting frustrated with the reunion crowd.  I have a list of 113 names of folks we can't find.  Better than two-thirds of those people are ON FACEBOOK and have BEEN CONTACTED BY ME.  But they haven't come forth with their addresses, or, really, with any response at all.  I understand they may not be ACTIVE on Facebook (though a goodly number ARE, and, in fact, are active ON THE REUNION GROUP), but I'm getting more and more of the whole "They're on Facebook, why don't you just . . . " 

Shut.  The. Hell.  Up.  

Seriously, like I'm stupid, like I wouldn't have already DONE that?  I went to school with some powerfully stupid people.

Or some people who think *I'M* powerfully stupid.  


Here.  Something ugly:

Quick note--repair guy's assistant just showed up, walked through the house, fifteen feet away from me, and I smelled the stench of cigarette within seconds.  Guy just stank up my entire house in twenty seconds.  If you think people can't smell it, you're wrong.  

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