Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Where My Weekend Hates Me

Meant to get this up on Monday but, a post is a post right? So here's the way my weekend decided to crush my hopes and happiness:

1. About a year ago, we ended up adopting, through osmosis, 4 feral cats that we're running around our place and that M had decided to feed. We got them all fixed and they even started warming up to us, letting us pet them, hold them (a couple of them anyway). M is much more of a cat person and of course got very attached to them. Since they are reformed feral cats, they often disappear a day or two at a time. No biggie.

The one that has warmed up to us the most disappeared last Wednesday. By the weekend M was inconsolable about the whole situation. She kept looking to our backyard, distraught when Balls (his naming is a good story for another time) didn't show up at feeding time. She kept on asking me questions like:

"Where did he go?"
"What could have happened to him?" **
"Is he going to come home?"

You get the idea. Constant questions that had no possible answers. I mean the dude's a gdamn alley cat. Who the hell knows? The best part was when she'd ask one of these questions, then go into a crying jag. It was great.

Thank goodness, he mysteriously appeared again last night and she was so happy she cried...again. I'm happy he's back, but even happier that I don't have to put up with the nonsense anymore.

2. I take our puppy, Dak, to a local dog park a couple times a week so he can go out and run around nuts and play with other dogs. A couple of M's coworkers had told her about this great dog park on the other side of town. Since I was heading over to a friend's place to drop something off that's near there, she suggested I take him along and go over there. OK, fine.

The problem when I get there is that the place is basically a huge area of nothing but dirt. Interspersed with puddles and mud. "Great park," I'm thinking to myself. My mistake was not just packing him up and leaving immediately. I let him go out to play and run around, he's having a great time. So far, so good. The problem occurs after he runs around for about 40 minutes and decides he's hot. Want to guess where he went? That's right, straight into one of the aforementioned mud puddles which he proceeds to roll around in, covering himself in water and mud. He looked something like this:



Only with more mud and water. Of course I didn't have any kind of towel or anything to clean him up. So I had to use the shirt off my back to try and clean him off before I let him back in M's car, with the nice leather seats. So awesome. I looked like Pigpen after wrestling around with him to try and clean him off. Thankfully he sat on the floorboard, pooped out, on the way home.

3. When I get home, I call into M to try and get her to come out and help me give Dak a bath. As soon as I say, "Hey M, I need som..."

"Aggghhhhh! Hurry up and get in here! The washer is leaking everywhere!"

I have to scramble to get the dog out to his kennel, trying not let his muddy ass bound around the house and dirty everything up. Since I had just replaced the drain hose on the washer two weeks ago, I was worried that I'd done something, like not tighten down a clamp enough tight enough, to cause this new problem.

Well it turns it out it wasn't that, it now seems as though the tub will no longer turn as well as leaking water from the bottom of the tub causing a nice little lake in our laundry room. Guh.

Since the washer is 10 years old, we've pretty much decided that we aren't going to drop anymore money into this thing. So she decides that she wants the new front load machines. Which of course means we have to buy a whole new set. Cause they have to match.

Which leads to the inevitable argument of, why the hell do we need to do that? No one comes into your place and goes, "Oh my god! They don't have a matching washer and dryer!" An argument, mind you, I'm destined to lose. Hello $1500 expenditure.

Women.

** - I thought he was probably dead. It might have had something to do with the fact she sprayed enough ant killer around where they hang out to poison the water table in the greater So Cal area.

5 comments:

TK said...

Dude, mismatching laundry appliances are so gauche.

I sort of enjoy it when your life it hellish. Mainly because you seem to return the favor far more frequently. Glad the cat's OK.

onthevirg said...

{Looks up gauche} Thanks Queer Eye.

Yeah well, that's mainly cause you typically end up doing it to yourself. And thanks.

Big Daddy said...

I hear you on the appliances. I am currently trying to keep our washer working just so I don't have to go through the whole scene you just mentioned. There have been a couple of "hints" dropped about how nice the front-loaders are, but somehow they fall on deaf ears.

country roads said...

*snort* queer eye....

See? It's from years of living like that with women that make you want/have to match your shit. Don't worry, my friend, your day is coming.

And, the fact that the cat's name is Balls made me almost choke and have to spit out some of my sandwich.

onthevirg said...

BD - Good luck there. It's inevitable. Or it just becomes so cost ineffective that you cave in anyway.

Country - I just don't even bother with the clothes anymore. She just buys me stuff that matches with everything else. Problem solved.

Hah! I'll tell that story sometime soon.