Driving my ice box

Judging by yesterday's blog, you probably think I'm content, sitting in holiday bliss with a hot cup of nog and some Manheim Steamroller on the radio.

Not so ... because it's FUCKING cold outside.

I headed out to my car around 5:30 this morning to head to the gym. I made sure to put on a hat and gloves, because I heard the temperature was dropping overnight.

I sat in my car as it warmed up. The hat and gloves were NOT enough. My fingers froze, my nose ran, my body shivered...

I looked at my car clock and thermometer. 9 degrees. NINE degrees?

Now, I can handle the mid-30s. I'll even deal with a meager 25 degrees, on occasion. But 9?

That's a single digit. I can count that number on my fingers. I thought, "There are more holy commandments than the weather is warm right now. WTF am I doing outside?"

On top of that, my windshield was completely iced over. I wasn't about to wait 15 more minutes, cutting my workout down to a measly 45. So what do I do? Crank the heat, turn on the defrost and GO.

I drove halfway there with my head ducked and aligned with the middle console, so I could peak out the center of the windshield, where the ice melted.

I made it and didn't die.

And it's only December.

Warm fuzzies

Last night I decided to get into the holiday spirit.

Since I've lived in an apartment by myself for the last couple years, I figured it's not really necessary to decorate for Christmas with the idea, "Who's really going to see this and appreciate it?"

NONSENSE. I figured I'll have a few visitors; plus, passersby can check out my decorations from the street. And, I'll get my own warm fuzzies when I come home.

Thanksgiving weekend, my mom packed up a box with a small fake tree already set up with lights, some ornaments, and a few other decorations. On top of that, I had some window clings and a wooden nativity set from my grandma.

I went to work and an hour later: Voila!

I still like to get into the kid spirit and get excited when I see Christmas trees lit up in windows, poinsettias at stores and garland wrapped around light posts down the main street of any small town.

It's also the only time of year where I'll really tolerate snow, and even get butterflies when a fresh coat covers the ground while kids are walking to school, or I head out to get some holiday shopping done.

In the next couple weeks, I'll start buying presents, and I think the decorating helped get me into the spirit.

Achoo!

This last weekend I went home to visit my family and friends over Thanksgiving.

Wednesday night Michelle and I picked up a variety six-pack of microbrews (BTW, try Breckenridge Amber Ale. Amazing.) and headed over to our friend, Amanda's, apartment to catch up and watch the Obama interview with Barbara Wa-wa.

Amanda takes care of two cats: Milly and Marty. Both are adorable, and have their own unique personalities. I knew my boundaries though -- because I had a cat in high school. After going away to college, every time I'd come home to visit, my eyes started watering and my head would get congested. The onset of becoming allergic to cats.

So at Amanda's, I kept my distance. I played with Marty for a little while, but gave up because after about a half hour, I noticed a tickle in the back of my throat and my eyes started itching. Enough of that.

Another hour went by and my immune system was in full-fledged attack mode. I started sneezing. My nose ran. My eyes watered. Part of it must've been the fact that there were two felines.

I hate taking medication, so I declined when Amanda offered.

Then on Friday, we headed back over to the apartment before going out to the bar. We ended up staying there about two hours waiting for some friends, and the itching, watering, sneezing started again. AGGH.

It's crossed my mind to find a pet for my apartment. Because I travel so much for work, I initially thought a cat would make the most sense. They're generally more independent and seem to be able to take care of themselves. Plus, I don't have to take them out to use the bathroom, or feed them as much.

But, I'm a dog person.

Number one: The thought of having a box full of festering crap in my house doesn't really appeal to me.
Number two: Cats can be bitchy and mean.
Number three? Cats make me SICK.

Rules of the road

It's that time of year again, when drivers get into their vehicles thinking it's 72 degrees and sunny. Perfect weather for a drive.

But wait a tick -- it's snowing, windy and 20 degrees.

Let me tell you something. It isn't a great day for a drive. In fact, it's downright terrible. So stop driving like it's the middle of the summer.

Another pet peeve of mine involves drivers who don't understand the rules of the road. Just because you have your driver's license doesn't mean it's your way, or the highway. (Very pun-y.)

Here are a few reminders I think drivers should follow, particularly during inclement weather.

1. Wear a seatbelt. Personally, I don't believe people should be ticketed for this offence. You're just putting yourself in danger. But it might just save your life.

2. Don't talk on your cell phone. I'm guilty of this on occasion, although I avoid at all costs, talking or texting when it's raining or snowing. If you really have to use your phone, get in the right lane, or pull over.

3. Use your blinker when you're turning or passing someone. This is especially important when you have three or more lanes of highway to drive on. I can't read your mind, give me some visuals.

4. I SAY -- slow the fuck down. Generally, I enjoy going about 10 mph over the speed limit. Not so if the weather sucks. I'm all for defensive driving, but I can only control my own car. Don't put my life in jeopardy by driving like a maniac.

5. Do NOT tailgate. The reason I slowed down was to avoid an accident and make sure I could maintain control of my vehicle, not so you could ride my ass. You hinder my ability to drive safely by touching bumpers and making sure your pearly whites are right in my FUCKING REAR VIEW MIRROR.

6. Don't tap your brakes incessantly. I can see the traffic ahead of you. You have eight car lengths of freedom. Don't make me white-knuckled and nervous every time the car in front of you hits the brakes. First take your foot of the gas and coast. It might also help you avoid swerving all over the place.

7. The left lane is for faster moving traffic. Although it's not a law, every time I drive longer distances, I come across at least two dozen assholes who don't know how to share the road with other drivers. The left lane is a passing lane. It should be used only in the event that the car in front of you is going slower than you. In which case -- use your blinker, move over, pass and go BACK TO THE RIGHT LANE.

Black Friday

I sometimes enjoy the occasional shopping spree. This usually involves heading to Express or Banana Republic with someone else (usually Michelle) to buy clothes and spend money I don't have...

But I refuse, at all costs, to participate in shopping the day after Thanksgiving.

The last thing I want to do is wake up at 3 AM after researching three dozen ads the night before, fight crowds of elbow throwing blue hairs and race to the closest retail store for the ONE thing I've been looking for. Don't bother, someone else is looking for the same thing, and they'll get it before you.

But, I wanted to find my Auntie Bobbie the perfect gift in return for the Corelle she gave me on Thanksgiving, and thought it'd be great to get her what she's been hunting for: a Wii Fit.

They were on sale at Sam's Club for $78.84. Since my mom has the membership, she'd need to come along. This morning, we piled into the car and headed to the west siide of GB -- traffic wasn't terrible, but there were still some crowds of people. It was about 11 AM. Not too shabby.

My mom and George had tentative plans to purchase a new flatscreen TV for their living room too. Mostly so George can play Halo 3. (I think he's addicted.)

On the list: a shiny new television, Wii Fit and a Columbia fleece jacket.

When you walk into the Sam's Club, electronics stare you in the face. In particular -- TVs. We got about 20 feet into the store, and stayed there for about an hour.

Since my brother came along, he was able to check out the different options and details for each TV, letting my mom and George know which were better than others.

He'd also ask questions like the refresh rate for the screen or the signal delay.

I checked out some cameras, the laptops and found some of the fleece sweatshirts (none my size.)

Finally, they chose a 46" Samsung flatscreen -- last one on the shelf.

We wandered around the rest of the store, showing off the TV to all the other shoppers. Checked out and hauled it to the car.

On the way home, we were pulling off the highway to the house, and my mom asked, "Did anyone look for the Wii Fit for Auntie Bobbie?"

Oops.

Ms. Fix-it

The great thing about my apartment is that it was a shithole before I moved in, so the landlord doesn't really care if I renovate it. As far as she's concerned, she can charge more for the tenants after me.

Before moving in all my furniture, I ripped out the living room carpet, cleaned the wood floors and painted all the rooms (they paid for supplies) -- except, the bathroom.

It's a small bathroom to begin with.

For the past five months, I've been climbing in and out of the claw foot tub, only to stand on the 2'x 3' bathroom mat strategically placed over the rotting golf green turf carpeting. I had a plastic drawer setup to keep all my bathroom accessories/extra shampoos/etc., so whenever I went to the bathroom, I'd sit face-to-face with that thing.

I couldn't take it anymore, so this weekend I decided to re-tile the bathroom floor.

BEFORE:

I bought some peel-and-stick tile and a straight edge.

First, I put gloves on ripped out the turf carpet. (Who in the HELL puts carpet in bathrooms anyway.) I vacuumed and picked up some loose garbage under the tub, like an empty travel-size shampoo bottle (not mine), a plastic bowl that at some point must've been catching water, but had turned black (not mine), and an ancient-looking gold mirror compact with flowers on it (ALSO not mine.)

I went to work laying out the tiles, cutting around pipes, the toilet and doorway.

In all it took about four hours, start to finish.

AFTER:

Now I can go into my bathroom without socks and shoes on, AND taking a shower actually means I feel clean.

Eyes wide open

I'm taking a hint from my blog's title, and losing sleep.

For some reason, the past couple weeks at my home after the sun goes down, my once-cozy abode becomes a creepy, rattley, drafty, scare-the-shit-out-of-me apartment. Over the summer, I slept like a corpse. NOTHING could wake this. Even if I only got six hours of sleep, I was bright and refreshed in the morning.

It seems the cold weather made the ghosts in the attic start hanging out in my apartment on the second floor. Probably because I have heat now.

So last night about 8 PM, I started watching the first season, first episode of Dexter.

Halfway through the show, my heat starts to clink on... fine. But after a few minutes, the wood floorboard between my couch and the vent starts to creak every couple minutes -- like a creak when someone walks on it. This is just my mind getting a little riled up. It keeps happening. Then I start hearing it outside my apartment door, every few minutes. I know my friend/neighbor/co-worker Lisa is at her other PT job until late, so she's not home. Can't be her. What IS that.

I'm not really into paranormal crap. But when I'm by myself, sometimes my mind gets the best of me. I could probably handle that, but what's worse is someone broke into my friend Sara's apartment here in Fort last weekend. Nothing happened because her boyfriend woke up and scared the guy, so he fled.

Now, I've got to worry about real people, and fake people, err, ghosts?

Called my mom, talked for a little while. Forgot about it. Got ready for bed.

STILL hearing this creaking. It's already 11 PM.

I called the one person I knew would be up: Matthias.

Being an excellent multi-tasker, he continued playing his Left 4 Dead demo (for the duration of our conversation) while I told him what was up.
"So, what you're saying is someone is trying to rob you?" MATTHIAS WTF WOULD YOU SAY THAT I'M CALLING BECAUSE I DONT WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT. "Now I've jinxed it. You'll get robbed."

So the first part of that conversation didn't go well. But after that, we started talking about Thanksgiving, 4chan ("It's the Mos Eisley of Internet content"), water and zee Germans.

I was getting tired around 11:30, so I said I'd try to sleep. But, he'd be up till 3 AM or later if I needed to call back. Awesome.