City, 1; FussyCrankypants, 0; or, Why is it ALWAYS the bike??

When the Fussy Crankypants first got married, Mrs Fussy Crankypants had a bike (named Clive, true story) and this bike lived on the balcony of the second floor apartment they had the dubious pleasure of renting.  Clive’s history with the Fussy Crankypants was very short-lived as he was soon thereafter lifted/pinched/stolen/heisted from said balcony.

Last Father’s Day, Mrs Fussy Crankypants just happened to decide that buying a bike for Mr Fussy Crankypants would be both a brilliant and an awesome gift as Mr FC was always talking about going for a bike ride.  So one day, Mrs Fussy Crankypants left him at home with The Tyrant while Mrs Fussy Crankypants took his car (Mrs FC’s car having a carseat in it) to the Big Evil Box Store That Shall Remain Nameless But that Starts With Wal and Ends With Mart and picked out a brand new bicycle and wheeled it up and paid for it and took it out into the parking lot and put it into the trunk except she didn’t do that part because as it turned out it wouldn’t FIT in the trunk and so therefore she stood around in the parking lot looking frustrated and sweaty (did she mention it was starting to rain?) until some nice man who just HAPPENED to be an avid cyclist parked his car two cars down and came down to help and just HAPPENED to have the right kind of tool in his car to be able to take the wheel off and get the bike in the trunk at last and got it home and into the shed (did she mention the rain?).

Upon getting the bicycle for Father’s Day, Mr FC was delighted but also not in that he did not like the super-cool retro designed bike that Mrs FC had chosen, claming it was “too hard” to pedal. (Whatever) And so the bike was exchanged, after a suitable waiting time, coordiation of schedules, cramming BACK into the car and also waiting for the Only Employee Who Could Sell a Bike to get back from vacation at the Big Evil Box Store That Shall Remain Nameless But that Starts With Wal and Ends With Mart. And also it was Tuesday in the fourth quarter of the new moon three weeks before the summer solstice. Probably.

After getting the Bike of His Dreams For Under $100, Mr FC then proceeded to ride the bike around the FC’s then-neighborhood non-stop. Or at least three times.

Following the Folly of the Big Move of the Fussy Crankypants’ this year, the bike took up permanent residence in the garage, waiting for happier weather in which to be ridden.

HOWEVER.

This past weekend, intent upon mischief and also possibly finding a warm place to sleep, one or several unknown miscreants broke into said garage and proceeded to sleep in a warm place and/or  lift/pinch/steal/heist Mr FC’s erstwhile and ill-fated bicycle.

Therefore, vagrants and general miscreants in the city of This Fair City are hereby warned and notified that the Fussy Crankypants are no longer under any compulsion to offer succour (or hand-outs) to said down-and-outers as they have just made a $100 non-tax-deductible donation in your honor.

You have no house, the FCs have no bicycle.   That just about evens the score, right?

Open Letter to Work

Dear Work:

Please go away and leave me alone.

Sincerely,

Mrs FussyCrankypants

P.S.  You may continue the remittance of funds.

For Your Consideration

Integration with other facilities such as flower beds, roadside planters, etc. is recommended. Limit integration with sanitation facilities such as trash cans, drinking fountain, etc.

Just sayin’.

Friday schmiday

I should be working. I have a BUTTLOAD of work this weekend AND my peeps are coming to celebrate my birthday.

How is it that that always happens?  I DO want the work so I can make the paltry amount of money I make so I can buy things like organic whole foods and also the occasional splurge like this:

Sterling Silver Spiral  Barrette
http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=38823197
(my  new favorite silversmith–not that I had a favorite before this–but her stuff is so awesome)
anyway, like I was saying, so I can not feel like I’m breaking the bank when I make purchases like the aforementioned.
BUT, they always send me a bazillion things to do on weekends that I have something particuarly special planned. Its like some kind of evil, overseas ESP.
Wait, what was I saying?
Right, work.
The lasagna ingredients are chopped and the bread is rising.  The Totally Loaded Oatmeal cookies are baked and Mom is bringing her famous Coconut Flake-Mini Chocolate Chip-Cream Cheese-Filling Chocolate Cake with Chocolate Buttercream Frosting along (the big mystery is:  will it be cupcakes or a cake cake??)
So we should be set up for a pretty good weekend that will include trips to AT LEAST two ice cream joints.
As long as I can figure out what to do with all this stinking work.

Another year and some thoughts thereon

It’s not only a new New Year, it’s a new year for me following my birthday on Tuesday.

I’m trying to feel positive but the past few days I have just felt,well, not positive.

Not positive:

Just made a major move involving the sale of our first home and relocating to a new area

The accumulation from 4 years of home-ownership, during which everything had its place (even if that place was a box in the basement) has now bit me on the butt as things remain left in boxes with very little place to put them and very little motivation to FIND a place to put them because

we may or may not be staying here for more than the next half a year because

T currently lacks a permanent work position owing to the sucky suckiness of The Big Bad Bank that made him quit to save his sanity and so he is on the hunt, again, for another job and is willing even to go back to his old place 2 hours south if anything opens up (they don’t have anything as of now) which means

we could move 2 hours south or

we may move house because T hates this house because it is a) a rental owned by a do-it-yourselfer and b) there may or may not be an asbestos hazard in the basement and c) there may or may not be electrical wiring safety issues also in the basement (srsly, I’ll take a pic to show you one of these days. it’s a mad, mad maze of wires down there)

And who knows what all of this means for my Have-a-Sibling-For-Miles-in-2010 Agenda?

Nap time has pretty much evaporated which means less down-time for me and also less chance to get computer time which makes it even harder to work

I’m also overwhelmed with all the stuff I want to learn about and put into practice

And also, I think I am missing the sun.

But on the plus side:

um

right

I have family coming to visit me this weekend, always good

There are carrot cake cupcakes with coconut frosting, also always good

No more nap time means we sleep in later in the mornings. sometimes. which is VERY good.

sleep has been decent the past week or so.

And I’m trying my hand at making bagels today so there are bagels rising downstairs.

I love this poem & so should you

antithesis

I am large in my skin
I make no apology
This belly grew three babies
Why should it be flat?
It curves with the memory of the womb.
These breasts fed three babies
Why should they be pert?
They swell with the memory of milk.
These hips carried three children
Why should they be slim?
They are full with the memory of life.
My bones are secret under flesh
My skin plump and white and fine
Mine is the face of Botticelli
Mine is the water of the Nile
Mine is the shape of things forbidden
Daughter of Gaia, grown beautiful and wild.
~Lorri Barrier
(poem published in Mothering Magazine, Sept/Oct 08)