there are many potentially cute things to say here, mostly involving either beer or bitches.
the first annual teter memorial day camp-off went extremely well this weekend, with half a dozen reported ticks and injuries. thanks to a sharp broom, i got stigmata. (you know, Mae, like 'i got jimmies')
Notable moments include this, when i took a lovely picture of paul and christy and baby. what you don't know is that jacob is pointing to the 'dead doggie?' who was having a heat stroke just outside the frame. seriously. we almost lost her. luckily, god provided a cool spring for us to throw her lifeless body into. she filled up like an empty water bottle and was almost immediately revived. In twenty minutes, she was humping my leg, barking and barfing. we knew then that everything was going to be okay.
also of note was a return trip from the general store, as we were greeted by Seth's priceless and white-faced 'i made ... a mistake' complete with a dripping bloody towel wrapped around his hand. there should be some compassion, but I can no longer let myself feel sorry for a man so determined to whittle no matter what the cost. Luckily, his injury lends itself to a proper response for any and all mockery.
and finally, we learned that this is really a picture of three people. and a reflective collar, which is also neat. ryan, don't tell grandma and grandpa.
there were several burns and scratches and lots of family bonding -- tales too sweet to recount here. although i'm dirty and exhausted, it's always good to feel family form around the camp fire. in spite of all the strange aunt and uncle birthday celebrations in college, i barely knew these clowns until now. from here, they're aalllll right. (nothing like steve and cindy, of course, but they can have their moments.)
In other news, inspection is tomorrow. if all goes well, i'll share the specs with you. if not, there's always New Orleans?
Thanks to cat and dawg for relieving my tension headaches.
There are a few things that make me sad, including adults who tell on each other in public and people who smoke alone in their cars at work. add a Big Mac lunch anywhere in the mix, and the world will drown in hopelessness.
I had something important to say a moment ago. But for now, two more houses. One on Possum Road and another on Johnstown-New Albany-Alexandria-Philadelphia Road or something as equally complex. Also, this week's VOC you shouldn't feel sorry for:
A women in the 400 block of Lane Road FLAGGED DOWN A POLICE CRUISER to report a black male was sifting through her recyclables. Police found the 46-year-old bum with a Hefty full of aluminum cans and charged him with misdemeanor theft.
OH! Graduation party. That's what I want to talk about in one and a half hours.
“I just got a phone call from the agent on the Favorite House. She said the home inspection went well...darn it. There is a small chance that something could go wrong with their financing, but I would not count on it. We will remain the backup offer until we know for sure.”
-- our realtor, on our dream home.
“You were right. We probably should've jumped on that house.”
-- my husband, moments before our divorce.
In other entertainment news, this week's Victim of Crime You Shouldn't Feel Sorry For:
A $1,500 watch was reported stolen from High School Locker Room at 9:25 a.m. May 11 while the victim was at lacrosse practice.
It's 4:30 a.m., and I'm in the middle of an old-fashioned slumber party. We're deep into season five of an unnamed situation comedy DVD collection but I must recall this moment for the record.
We spent the evening at Arlington Cafe, which, until tonight, I had not yet attended but only read about in the police blotter. A nice place. Billiards. Bus loads of bachelor parties. Disorderly conduct waiting to happen, I'm sure.
On the way home, against our better judgement, we made a quick stop through Mac Donald's, where I purchased the Mighty Kids Meal (read:Husky) and just as I had finished, my sister began to browse through a bag of perks she'd received for securing part-time work at Tuttle's Bath and Body Works.
Inside, in addition to eye and thigh creams, there was a sample of Mustela's $60 per bottle post-partum restructuring gel that, with regular use, lessens the appearance of fatty deposits and slackening skin caused by pregnancy. In so many words, we found there was just enough in the small foil package to relieve the stress of a double cheeseburger run at bar closing time. Gross.
She may not have "given a speech at my wedding," but I don't think I'd ever exchange this evening for any kind of toast. Now I have to go. It's hard to think of this scenario without cracking my five-minute spa treatment mask. Love you, sis.
So I didn't Spice it up after all, (unless you count beers on the couch with the old man and Maybel) but I DID spend three-and-a-half hours jotting down notes like "pink shirt girl asks about the safety of the children" and "what about the gardens, asks crazy old man" -- although I think the worst thing I heard all night was a tearful "(Airport traffic) noise is so bad, I have to wear ear plugs when I mow the lawn!"
umm.
Living at the end of the airport runway must turn a human into ... something much more terrifying.
After reading Brooke's blog, I feel less-than-famous, and am actually quite embarrassed at the display of miniature cow photos below. After all, I work for one of three competing weekly newspapers in the great city of Columbus. I ain't no coal minor's daughter. Hell, I'm stringing for a mag that held MONIQUE MING LAVEN on the front cover. And I RENT for criminey's sake. It's time to snazz things up a bit. It's time to hit the town. (Maybe take a taxi?) It's time to drag that husband of mine to the Arena District. Maybe I'll pass on the Guinness and order up an apple tartalini or something. Maybe I'll throw on some uncomfortable shoes, a tiny dress and chat it up with Johnny DiLoretto. Maybe I'll even be hot enough to finish my drink on the patio. Who's comin' with me?!
Now I have to go before I think this through all the way through the night until the next morning. Almost makes me wish I wasn't bona fide.
Please note that these are miniature cows ... excuse me, miniature Herefords, who answer to the names Deuce and Monty. also, they're as tall as a preschooler.
As we're in the process of acquiring yet another house in the country, the following is an email I'm guessing not many wives receive from their husbands on a work day:
Lynds-
We could raise up to 5 ewes per acre, or 5 to 10 lambs.
If we don't have a lot of land we could also raise a miniature steer.
ST
Our love grows with each fleeting thought.
Speaking of love, Talya, yes. I would love to come to your party. send me an invitation! Also, there will be perhaps a low-key gathering prior to in ashland, but don't tell my parents. They're leaving for El Paso, and I don't want them to know I'm having people over. I understand my father recently acquired a new axe-throwing target, so boozing, fire and the throwing of heavy, sharp objects will likely be in the works.
This post does leave a certain impression of me, doesn't it?
I grabbed a roast beef combo on the way to my financial policies subcommittee meeting yesterday (I know.) and the drive-through cashier asked me if I wanted hot, mild or Horsey sauce to go along with my meal.
If you mean horseradish sauce, then yes. Yes I would like some horseradish sauce. But who, in any good conscience, could answer "Yes, I'll take some Horsey sauce, please." And I can't imagine they get many "Excuse me, ma'am, but you forgot to include the extra Horsey in my sack."
That is the smartest cost-saving initiative by any fast food company ever.
You know those Market Fresh Sandwich people have a reputation to uphold. If they didn't, they'd be at McDonald's. Horsey Sauce. Genius.
For the record, I told the cashier "No thanks."
in other news, there is this kings of convenience song I've only been able to find on the world wide web. It's called Misread and it's the acoustic version and it totally rocks my world.
you know how you have that aunt or uncle or grandma who, in reference to your gay friend, says something like "say, my neighbor's son is gay. they should date." because all gay people know each other and are automatically compatible?
the same thing happens in christianity.
the only rub being that, in a way, we are ordered to be automatically compatible. the arms and the feet and the head of One Body sort of thing. occasionally, the "say, you love Jesus" gets you something good, like Mae in a coffee shop or an apartment on Montrose Avenue. Other times it yields lesser gifts. usually books. or a Focus on the Family T-Shirt.
I wonder what treats those homosexuals get.
I think it's totally endearing to have folks reach out to me in that way. But that's probably because no one is trying to pass a law that makes it illegal for two Christians to kiss in public.
Name: Seth
Alias: Teth Seter or Steter.
In Brief: The Steter in his natural habitat. Married to theteet.blogspot.com since August 2004. Often the victim of serious hyperbole. Handy.
Hates: Noise, Dominion Homes, above-the-nipple touching, when people get 'handsy.'
Loves: pies (of any kind), dirt, smoking a pipe after eating pie. also, cows.
Name: Maybel
Alias: The Pig or Boobles.
In Brief: Kentucky-born English Bulldog since February 2006.
Hates: Watermelon. All other kinds of melon. The sound of a new trash bag being opened and sitting in the back seat.
Loves: Treats, walks, Charlie, 'humping it out' and barfing.
Name: Amanda
Alias: The Sister.
In Brief: theteet's younger (but larger) sister. Survived a brain bleed in February 2007.
Hates: minor inconveniences that make her blurt out uncontrollably, brain bleeds.
Loves: UFC, cornhole, texting, fast food and her dog Charlie.
Name: mom and dad.
Alias: the 'rents.
In Brief: Ashland natives and frequent visitors. They taught me how to swear.
Hates: hospitals.
Loves: squirrels and lattes.
Name: Mae
Alias: Klingler or Maddog.
In Brief: Cincinnati resident and former college/Old Towne East roommate. Once wrote a song that made theteet cry.
Hates: Hate.
Loves: Jesus, family, puns, guitars and gardening.
Name: Colleen
Alias: Crankin and Rankin.
In Brief: Akron resident and former college roomie. Arguably more handy than Seth. Nice bosom for hugging.
Hates: all drivers.
Loves: beer, coffee, cigarettes and boys we all find strange.
Name: Talya
Alias: Strader and Sweet T.
In Brief: Chicago resident and former college roomie. served brief stint at theteet's 'accountability partner.' collects monthly fee for keeping quiet.
Hates: people who do not comment on her blog.
Loves: social justice, eggs, her boyfriend monsterbeard and the occupation of barista.
Name: Chris
Alias: Christopher, Monsterbeard and Nadine.
In Brief: Chicago resident and college buddy. Maker of 'We once waited up in the dark with a gun,' and other misadventures.
Hates: people who are looking the other way.
Loves: history, film, his girlfriend Strader and acronyms.
Name: pdawg.
Alias: none needed.
In Brief: Former co-worker who is willing to eat waffles with theteet at 4 in the morning regardless of level of snow emergency.
Hates: anyone under the age of 35.
Loves: Hostess pies, old man rants and golf.
Name: Linsly.
Alias: MERLIN, lin or newbie.
In Brief: Former co-worker who lived with us for a week. I can tell this kid anything. He's like a brother.
Hates: sexual predators.
Loves: zombies, guns, porch chats and movie quotes.
Name: jaydubs.
Alias: jwray and 10bagspacking.
In Brief: Co-worker who taught me everything I know about the world.
Hates: mean jokes, mushrooms, clipping fingernails in the office.
Loves: crafts, her gay-together but also betrothed person Kyle, Columbus Bride Magazine, veggie-friendliness and basil.
Name: jessica.
Alias: jessm.
In Brief: College buddy with the amazing handshake. I believe she might be back from Alaska and living in Hudson now.
Hates: poverty.
Loves: Jesus, jazz, geography and hilarious t-shirts.
Name: brittiny.
Alias: Brit-Brat, experimental dater or The Dunlap.
In Brief: Former co-worker (notice a theme here?) who started with me at SNP on the same day. Former Sorority president taught me the ropes of being a lady. her wisdom did not take.
Hates: visible pany line.
Loves: cocktails, shoes, 'the blue box' and her boyfriend the Lizard.
Name: garth and jen.
Alias: not safe around house plants and the real spider-man and/or HSnothingswronghere.
In Brief: Co-worker couple who proved themselves fun at work and on the farm. Periodically forced to kiss in gas station parking lots.
Hates: local broadcast news reporters.
Loves: zombies, movie quotes, Indianapolis and lin rice.
Name: Angie.
Alias: captain cool.
In Brief: Former co-worker who stole my heart. She is the only thing I've ever lost to the Youngstown Vindicator.
Hates: joe and misogynists.
Loves: celebrity gossip, hilarious captions, biking/hiking, her boyfriend Jef, her mom and Columbus.
Name: Melville.
Alias: welcome to earf or bad town.
In Brief: Former co-worker who let me inherit his seat at SNP. For a while, he was the only one who would talk Reynoldsburg politics with me.
Hates: fleas, eminent domain and people who flip the bird.
Loves: his evil cat, running, opinions, beer and Tom Waits.
Name: The Gerish.
Alias: The Gerish.
In Brief: Co-worker and rare, elusive creature. If you're lucky, you'll see a tousle of black hair breeze by over the cubicle wall.
Hates: Things that aren't crackers.
Loves: crackers.
Name: Dennis.
Alias: secret reading.
In Brief: Co-worker and rare, elusive creature. If you're lucky, he'll walk over and talk to you. But he probably won't. Once took my sister-in-law to Homecoming.
Hates: The damn kids who walk in his yard.
Loves: Corgis, Cedar Point and Rachael. But not the one you're thinking of.
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