Barnmouse Blitherings

July 19, 2007, 11:39 pm
Filed under: whineyness

1.) Cleaning all of Rat’s office stuff out of the guest bedroom since my Dad is staying with us tomorrow night.  When we put the new floors into Rat’s office, we first had to move ALL of his junk out of it and into the guest room.  So the floors, bed, dresser, bedside table, etc are all hidden in a sea of books, computer parts, monitors, and other various things that Rat insists that he needs but I still cannot identify.  Anyway, I should probably be cleaning that stuff up but, eh.  It’s not my stuff.

2.) Cleaning up the kitchen.  It’s really mostly done, but still.  I can’t seem to pry myself off the couch and away from The Librarian on TNT.

3.) Cleaning all our junk off the coffee table in our den (are you seeing a pattern here?).  At the moment, I have my feet propped up on it, so I guess I could sweep my leg back and forth and be halfway done!  That’s me. Always thinking!

4.) Cleaning pretty much anything else in the entire house.  I’ve felt kind of like crap lately so my domestic goddess skillz have gone by the wayside.  Hence the tumbleweed sized chunks of cat and dog hair floating around the house and the ability of anyone who comes into our kitchen to be able to figure out what we’ve eaten for the dinner the past three nights.  Yeah.  As Doug Heffernen would say “SHUTTY!!!”.

5.) I should also probably be trying to think of something more interesting to write about…or at least something for this list other than cleaning something.

6.) I should be going to bed right now. 

Hey!  Finally something on my list that I can check off without having to, you know, clean anything.

*checking off #6*


July 16, 2007, 8:43 pm
Filed under: whineyness

At the gym.

Seriously y’all.  Any other time, if you ran into these people on the street or in the mall or at the dentist, they would look like totally normal human beings.  But at the gym, it’s teased hair, shiny pink spandex, giant scrunchies, buckets of hairspray, and sweatshirts with the sleeves and bottoms and necks cut off…so we can look at their sports bras.  Gee.  Thanks.  My eyes are bleeding.  Because I poked them out.  So I wouldn’t have to look at your puffy 8 inch tall bangs.

And the little “yoga corner” does nothing to help me out.  It’s right in front of two of the machines that I use so I either have to watch them stick their butts up in the air and their legs over their heads or I have to close my eyes.  So far, I’ve gone with the second option.  But honestly, that’s starting to get looks.

The day I walk into the gym and see leg warmers is the day I go completely insane.


I’m feeling the overwhelming urge to sing Footloose and dance around the house like an idiot.  And cut loose….footloose….kick off my Sunday shoes…. But seeing how it’s Monday, I think I’ll try and keep my shoes on.

I had other things to write about, but frankly, I’ve forgotten what they are.  Leg warmers tend to have that effect on me.

Anyway.  The gym we go to has this personal trainer woman (supposedly) that Rat took…umm…personal training lessons (?) from when we first signed up since he had never been a member of a gym before and wanted to learn how to properly use all of the machines.  He only took lessons from her for a month and that month was over about 2 months ago.  Yet every time we go in there, she’s just got to go talk to him.  Which bugs me.  Mostly because I don’t like her because the first time I ever met her she told me that she had shown Rat a lot of exercises that would be good for me too.


I’m sure I probably took that the wrong way, but seriously….I don’t care.  I have a friend who is a member of another gym here in town and I was telling her this and she said, “Wait…is her name ******???” and I said, “Um…yeah.”.  And needless to say it did not go well from there.  Apparently this “lady” was a personal trainer at another  gym and was such a pain in the ass, know-it-all bitch that they fired her. 

So now, when we’re driving home and Rat says ****** came over and talked to me again today, I tend to say some slightly sarcastic possibly not super sweet things about her.  Because she bugs me.  A lot.  Today, my little tirade lead Rat to ask me “Are you just incapable of being nice?”.  Let me tell ya’…that didn’t help.

But y’all…I was on FIRE!  You know when you just keep thinking of hilarious (to you) things?  They just kept on comin’.  Of course, she does provide a wealth of fodder for me.  The overly tanned skin (she looks ORANGE), the fried bleach blonde hair that she wears in a banana clip that halfway hangs off (oh the horror), and the stringy overly pumped up look that kinda makes you think she used to be a man.  But then she throws her attitude into the mix and I just can’t shut my mouth.

It’s no wonder she runs up to Rat every time he’s in there.  It’s not like she’s working with any clients.  No one wants her for a personal trainer.  Not when every other personal trainer at my gym is super nice and friendly.  Even the guys who look like they bathe in steroids. (I’m pretty sure they don’t)

But I’ll try to keep my mouth shut.  And pray for the day that we go to the gym and her picture is no longer under the “personal trainer” sign.  And I won’t have to listen to any more unsolicited advice from a woman I’ve never said more than “hi” to, much less PAID for training sessions.

I will try to be nice.

And just for fun….what the hell?


July 13, 2007, 5:18 pm
Filed under: whineyness

I will admit it.  I hate…no, loathe…no, despise cleaning the bathroom.  I hate it.  Really, really hate it.  I will do almost anything to put it off.  I talked to my mom earlier this week and she was at my grandma’s condo trying to get it ready to be sold and she was scrubbing the bathroom while talking to me.  Yes.  She is Super Mom.  She’s also a bit of a clean freak.

I asked what she had been up to and she played it off all cool saying “Oh.  Not much.  I cleaned our bathrooms yesterday.  They were awful!  I hadn’t cleaned the bathrooms in nearly 3 weeks!”  Which of course made me lose my damn mind and say something along the lines of “Damn.  My bathrooms WISH they got cleaned every 3 weeks.”.  Which was stupid.  It’s not like I just met her.  I should have stopped myself, but I just couldn’t.  I was too excited about cleaning my Granny’s old wine glasses and having them come out SO. DAMN. GOOD.  That I guess I lost my brains for about a second too long.

So, I got the GO CLEAN YOUR BATHROOMS RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY!!! speech.  And I guess it wormed it’s way into my head more than I thought because in between loads (and LOADS) of laundry today, I found myself thinking “why don’t I clean our bathroom?”.



I could not have just thought that.

Who am I and what have I done with myself?!

Suddenly, I’m lugging brooms and mops and windex and wads of paper towels upstairs wondering what in the hell just happened.

We have one of those Scrubbing Bubbles shower cleaner things (oh, did I mention how when I was little I used to beg my mom to buy the scrubbing bubbles bathroom cleaner so I could play with the cute little scrubby guys?  Yeah.  I was that cute.) and it apparently broke.  I say “apparently” because “apparently” it had been broken for some time, but since Rat takes a shower after me (because he likes really hot showers and usually uses all the hot water, not even leaving me enough for my luke warm shower) I didn’t realize it.  After scrubbing the shower door and rinsing it off, I tried to turn the shower cleaner on and nothing happened.  So I pressed the button harder.  Still nothing.  So I whacked it.  And yet, nothing.  So I IM’d Rat and asked what was up and he said “oh yeah.  I think it’s broken.” and when asked when the last time it worked was, I got “I don’t know.  Last week sometime?”.

A ha.  No wonder our shower was just getting worse and worse.

So I went to the store to get another one.  And while I was there, I started browsing all the other cleaners and stuff, looking for some toilet cleaner that keeps cleaning (did that make sense?) and maybe something that would help with our icky shower situation.  I remembered the commercial for the foaming stuff that when the woman sprays it on the shower wall, her little girl says “Look Mommy, it looks like a puppy!”.  And she says “Yeah.  It kinda does.”  But then the announcer guy says “But this is what the mold sees.” and the cute little puffy puppy turns into a big mean dog that reminds  me of Shadow.  So I said what the hell and I bought a bottle.

I got it home and sprayed it all over the ickiness that is our shower and just sort of….well….forgot about it.  About an hour later, I went back and it was CLEAN.  IT WAS CLEAN, Y’ALL!!!!  No scrubbing or anything!  I can’t believe my eyes.  I’ve tried SO many other things on our shower and they NEVER work even with arm breaking scrubbing.  It’s a miracle. 

I can whole heartedly recommend Tilex Mildew Root Penetrator and Remover 100%! 

It works.  And I mean REALLY WORKS!  And assuming that there’s anyone out there that has let their shower get as bad or *gasp* worse than mine, y’all should really try it.  Really!  I mean now!  Stop staring at your computer and GO dammit! 

You can thank me later with cash.

July 13, 2007, 3:08 am
Filed under: whineyness

This isn’t looking promising.  Nothing is popping into my head and Rat’s sitting over there on the other couch trying to talk to me about something that’s happening in freakin’ October.  I mean really!  I’m on a deadline here buddy!

So.  What topic have we not beaten to death?  I know!  My new microwave!  It works!  Finally.  I guess you wouldn’t call it my “new” microwave.  Rat keeps calling it my “new-new” microwave.  But now that it’s passed my popcorn test, I think I’ll just call it my microwave.  What was I saying?  Oh yeah.  Guess what I did in my new microwave?    No, no, no, get your mind out of the gutter.  I grilled chicken!  In my microwave!  You are impressed!  And so is my dad.  Hee!

And also, just if I wanted to?  You know what else I could do in my microwave?  I could bake freakin’ brownies, y’all!!!!  BROWNIES!!!  In a MI.CRO.WAVE!!!!  I can not begin to comprehend the awesomeness of that.  My brain is not capable of the understanding of microwave brownies.  Done in just a fraction of the time!  Chocolatey goodness in meer minutes!

Yeah.  We’ve exhausted that topic now.  On to something else.

I’m trying to get Rat to tell me a joke and he just keeps muttering “So what days?”.

Bah.  No fun.

Joke!  Joke!  Someone tell me a joke!!!  Dirty or clean, makes no difference to me.  Bonus points for making tea come out my nose.

July 12, 2007, 12:32 am
Filed under: whineyness

So I went to the gym!  Yay me!  But this post isn’t really going to be about me.  I’ve got to tell y’all about this one chick I saw there.  I mean Oh. My. God.

Y’all….she looked like Joe Camel.  


It took me twice as long to do the bicep curls because I kept giggling.  And everyone knows you can’t do bicep curls while giggling.


Okay, I said this post wasn’t going to be about me….but well….I guess I lied a little.


*doing a little happy dance*

I am so happy, that after I got out of the shower, I put on my space kitty jammie bottoms!

My space kitty jammie bottoms.  Let me show you them!


Fuzzy picture, but they’re fuzzy jammies!!!  Hee!

Speaking of fuzzy:


Mah fuzzy slippers!

Oooh yeah….I’m comfy.

And so is Winston!


Note the leg hanging out of the kitty condo.  He’s just straight chillin’ yo.  That’s how he rolls. 

July 11, 2007, 8:50 pm
Filed under: whineyness

Well, scratch that.  I haven’t been to the gym in a week.  But that will change to-DAY!  I’m going.  Yes I am.  I’m already dressed.  My iPod is charging.  There is no backing out now.

And if I keep telling myself that, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll go.

Other than my very expensive, POS new microwave, I pretty much have nothing interesting going on.  Other than my absolute resolve to go to the gym today.  Yes!  Am going!

Right.  So.  The crappy microwave.  Since my old microwave decided to lose it’s damn mind, we had to get a new one.  What?  Live without my popcorn?  Never!

We decided to get one of the new fancy schmancy convection microwaves.  So we scouted them out at all the major places that sell them and finally decided on one.  So we bought it.  Yay!  New microwave!  Gimme popcorn!  Woo!

Once we get it home, Rat decided to get seriously pissed at me because I didn’t want to spend yet another day working on his office.  Hey, he didn’t help me with mine!  Why do I have to do his whole office with him?  Hmm?  No reason!  That’s why!  Anyway.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, the microwave.  So, I’m on the couch holding back tears because my back hurts so bad, and when I don’t want to crawl around on my hands and knees all damn day…again…Rat gets all pissy and says “Fine!  Then you hook up the microwave!”.  I said something along the lines of “You could barely pick it up off the shelf at the store!  I’ll drop it and break it!”.  And what does Mr Pissy say back? “You’ve got money.  Buy a new one.”


This is when I get THE RESOLVE.  And start yelling at him and talking shit in my head.  You want me to hook up the damn microwave?  FINE!  I’ll hook up the damn microwave.  And I’ll do it BETTER THAN YOU!!  HA!  I RULE AND YOU SUCK!  I won’t drop it, I’m strong.  I can pick it up!  I don’t need your damn help.  Of course, all of this was in my head.  Bock Bock.  Yes.  I am a chicken.

But!!  I hooked up the microwave!  I loved my new microwave!  It could grill and roast and BAKE!!!  Oh my!  I wanted to do all three!  Now!  NOW NOW NOW!!!!  But it was like…3:30.  And we had eaten lunch at around 2.  And I had nothing to make.  *sigh*

Then, a day later, I decided!  The Closer!  Yay!  POPCORN TIME!  So.  Happy little mouse skips to the kitchen and grabs a bag of popcorn, looking forward to finally making something in her brand spankin’ new microwave!  And look!  A “popcorn” button!  Aww.  I love my microwave!  I push the “popcorn” button.  I push the “start” button.  I wait. 

Gee.  This microwave is awful quiet. *scratching head* After a minute, there’s a pop.  Oh.  Okay.  I guess it really is cooking.  But really.  So quiet.  52 seconds left.  Everything cuts off.  Wha? 

Long story short, the fan doesn’t cut on!  Ever!  At all!  So, we have to take it back and hope that they’ll let us return it without a box.  Because we are idiots.  We threw the box away.  To be fair, it was a giant ass box and having it in the kitchen was a bit inconvenient.  Rat called their customer service last night and was on hold for ooooohhh….30 minutes or so!  And the lady he talked to said that she was pretty sure we could return it without the box, since it’s defective, they’re not going to be reselling it.  I could always help them out and throw it out a window or something.

But for now, I will just have to be satisfied by flipping it off every time I walk past it.  And it just sits there.  Mocking me.

Stupid microwave.

*flipping it off from the den* 

July 10, 2007, 8:39 pm
Filed under: whineyness

So.  A man walked into a bar…







The second guy ducked.



The End.