Assurances: 1.) This is just a test. 2.) This is a change in name only. 3.) Whomever you reported to yesterday, you'll report to tomorrow. 4.) Blogspot's arms will remain wide open, should I choose to return. 5.) as always, the customer is No. 1. Let us know what you think.
theteet.wordpress.com, is the new (cue 'all around the world' song and fancy switching logos graphic) theteet.blogspot.com
There is a backlog of topics I've missed, so I think I'll just stick with the present.
Much progress has been made in Shitstorm 2007. Death, divorce, sudden divorce, break-up, bad break-up and devastating break-up have done a number on those in my circle of friends in recent weeks. Everyone gets points. Mad points. I will not name you here (unless you're into that -- just let me know) but rest assured, I have a chart. and you are in the lead. Others are just returning to the United States. I fear for the rest. If you're smart, you won't hang out with me for a while.
Today, a man threatened to subpoena me because I would not give him the phone number for an old lady who wrote in to express concern about illegal fireworks in her subdivision. The prez of the subdivision's homeowners' association said our letter caused him great devastation because it reflected poorly on him and the subdivision, and also because the real estate market crashed as a result of the letter or something.
I accidentally started laughing when he threatened subpoena because he obviously does not understand the basics of democracy, and also, this is not Valerie Plame Level Type Documentation here. But I would go to jail for her anyway.
My body decided last night that I had been working a little too much and it didn't let me go to work. There was a bout of early-morning ralphing (not that kind of ralphing) and a general sense of all-around shittiness that I'd guess resulted from dehydration (not that kind of dehydration) not eating very well and my tendency to have fever/sinus infection hypo-c episode every ten minutes.
RE:2004-2007 -- I don't think I remember getting sick this often until college. I wonder if somebody has been slipping me some cilantro.
Anyway, enough about my minor inconveniences.
Except one more thing about my problems.
No one at the newspaper but jaydubs seemed to notice I was out, but there were several "Reasons why you suck, Lyndsey"-type emails in my inbox upon my return . People are really sensitive about this whole "returning calls promptly" thing. I should tell them what my friends have to put up with.
But seriously, as a reporter, you make calls all day and night, and sometimes, people are too busy to call you back ... especially if calls are made in 3-minute increments. Sometimes calls aren't returned that day, even. Get over it and work around it. I don't need a 40-minute diatribe about your devastation.
ahhhh, dealing with Central Ohio's greatest poets. I mean, I know I wrote about Reynoldsburg and ice cream this week, but come. on.
`\ We're just receiving confirmation that all the Suck that has disappeared from my life has been smeared onto friends, which really isn't fair. I fear for those who are out of the country. Or perhaps this is the best way to avoid it.
This is your warning.
Have I told you about the STUFs?
Instead of regular insulation, our home has ground up bits of newspaper. This horrid substance was blown into the side of the house, and contractors say it works much better than that pink stuff the panther sells.
However, when you remove lath and plaster, when released, the STUF, which has been compressed between the wall studs for several decades, goes awry.
Although it looks relatively contained here,** the STUFs get everywhere. In your lungs, in thick piles on the floor, the kitchen counter, the ceiling fan. The STUF is unstoppable. A small area of stuff in the walls can become an 8-foot pile of STUF on the floor. We have a habit of writing STUF in the layers of STUF on the coffee table. Similar to the way people write "WASH ME" on dirty cars. Maybel LOVES to sit in the STUF. It should be noted in her profile.
Anyway, I'm happy to say that although we have no pictures to prove it, the STUF is, for the most part, tamed. We have removed it and re-insulated and drywalled this entire wall in our house. Only a small patch upstairs where the chimney was left to conquer.
Also of note, I am able to walk up the stairs onto a temporary landing. Before, I had stairs that met a chasm at the second story of our home. In other words, we got a lot done this weekend.
** Also pictured is the hole where the mystery cat pokes his head up from a ledge in the basement. The good news is that Maybel has learned a new command. "Get that cat" means "go run and stick your head in the hole," which is hilarious.
I write this with two baby deer playing in the woods. I just had some more ice cream. It has been unnervingly beautiful all weekend. We visited Seth's grandparents. I ...
We went to a church this morning at Kenyon College that reminds me (hold your breath) of our church in Athens. Remember the one? It was small, with a mix of college and old-timers, with a really energetic pastor 'on loan' from New York.
I wish I had a photo of this guy.
He's a mix of Kramer, stereotypical Jewish dude and Italian mobster. Very strange. Basically, imagine Yiddish words in an Italian accent with exaggerated mannerisms. It's enough to keep the focus off the sermon at times.
We attended another First Friday -- notably more pleasant than the first -- and toured Knox County's old Buckeye Candy & Tobacco Company Building. On the tour, they showed plans for this exciting project.
Bringing the weekend full circle, while at a lunch after service in the basement of the church, we were talking to Some Dude Called Mark about our first impressions of Knox County, and when we mentioned the project, he was like "yeah, I own that building."
He also has lunch recently with Zach Space, but was a financial contributor to Bob Ney. What the hell is going on.
Did you know Knox County does not have ONE homeless shelter?
actually, that couldn't be further from the truth.
my cousin is a wonderful, beautiful family kind of lady, and i wish my poverty hadn't prevented us from hanging out more often. the hatred stems from the jealousy.
she is one of those luck 07.07.07 gals and Al Gore is slated as special guest ring-bearer. Kidding. Actually, this is her wedding destination. Belize. That's pretty much like the Columbus Athenaeum. Prety much.
Her wedding Web site has a slide show of destinations she and her finance have hit up in recent years. As the girl who calls Chi-town her most-western destination, I am green with envy. And the reflection of money.
Congrats, lady jen. We wish we could be there with you. In the meanitme, we can't wait for the pictures. Snorkel one for us!
i did have all these clever bits lined up, but now I'm not in the mood. Plus Seth put on an Elliot Smith record. Cold-hearted bastard.
Looks like some up-and-coming kid is vying for full rights to Shitstorm 2007. You peeps with the open lines should direct dial a prayer or two. You know who you are. Note to self: check friend's blog prior to sending email with careless subject line. I hate myself. This is duly noted.
In other news, pressing on to the trivial. Life is indifferent. It does not wait around.
As a reporter, I am used to receiving feedback - both positive and negative - about my articles. But with this whole commentary gig, there is a new element: Comments on personal appearance.
now, I have been guilty of this in the past, so if i can dish it out, i should be able to take it.
I'm used to the "OMG you look 14 lets date!!!!!" comments. However, I was somewhat taken aback by James from Whitehall, who called to tell me I was "way too brilliant for that hair cut." He said my face needed some serious framing work, and that he "couldn't get past" my huge forehead.
Now, granted, James is a hairdresser, (and also a huge fan of my writing!) but still. An odd comment to make. I will never have the gumption required to tell someone I couldn't imagine a world beyond their Ginormous Forehead, but then again, hair is not my forte. And if I want to believe the part about how awesome a writer I am, I'll also have to accept this "you are in desperate need of some bangs" mantra.
It's like the argument that you can't believe Jesus is both an intelligent moral guide for humanity and simultaneously a looney toon who claims to be the son of god.
Yes. It's just like that.
I remember Bill talking about a gentleman who took issue with his sideburns. But I digress.
Seth and I bought a White Mountain.
These words are enough, I've heard, to make any child of the 60s and 70s shudder with both fear and delight.
Dad remembers the nights grandpa would send him crawling into the basement to dig out the White Mountain. He remembers cranking for what seemed like hours on end (adult time is about 25 minutes) until the final stages, when one of his brothers would have to sit on the bucket to keep it from wiggling around.
We used heavy cream, non-homogenized whole milk, sugar, vanilla and half and half.
Two hours later, a gallon and a half of homemade ice cream. It was very creamy. I got sick just from licking the sweet, sweet paddles -- and then I moved to bowls. There is nothing better than clutching a belly full of steak, beer, coffee and ice cream and knowing you'd do it all over again if you could.
.Any sucka can pick up a half gallon of Ben & Jerry's, but God Bless the USA.
Land where we have such an abundance of food and luxury, that we buy hand-powered ice cream machines out of boredom.
Did you know that a salt and water brine sucks heat from whatever it touches?
Salt + ice = Dry sidewalk. Salt + ice = Frozen sweet milk.
One: Friday morning, I awoke and sleepily let Maybel out as I normally do. I watched as the pig moseyed her way over to the barn, where a large mama deer happened to be standing in the morning fog. Instead of fleeing, the deer froze, and Maybel the Great Deer Hunter remained oblivious. I couldn't stop watching as Maybel walked closer and closer. What would happen if she walked right into the thing? She was about two feet from the deer when she stopped for a morning poo.
It was a picturesque country living moment. Maybel taking a big, steamy crap beside a grazing deer.
Ah, Knox County.
Two: Also, this was one of the better weekends on the farm. We worked outside both days in the garden, elbow-deep in dirt, occasionally singing hymns and probably some similar tunes sung early in our country's history. Only we aren't slaves. The tiller is too loud and vibratey, so we hoed and cultivated by hand. My back hurts and my hands are blistered and strangely stained with mud. I can't get the dirt off, despite several rounds of scrubbing. Don't know what the deal is there. The carrots are starting to happen!
We took two drives, one on Friday and one on Sunday so that Seth could brainwash me. It worked. By the end, I was saying things like "We've GOT to get ourselves some lambs. And a cow!" We happened upon the Velvet Ice Cream Making Place in Newark and split a turtle sundae. They were having some sort of festival, as some dude was singing God Bless the USA. I tried to avoid looking at the clowns.
In the car, among many topics discussed, I attempted to bury the tragedies of 2007 with a big sigh of relief and said something along the lines of l-jo: It's been a rough six months and I'm really worn out but I have this weird feeling things might be looking up. steter: you crazy woman and your emotions l-jo: ? steter: steter: let's get a horse and buggy so we can ride it into the farmer's market. l-jo: did you just call me crazy for saying i was sad about my dead grandpa and then suggest we purchase a horse and buggy to ride around Mount Vernon? steter: that sounds like something you'd put up about me on your blog.
Please notice the new features on your sidebar to the right.
We are slowly making our way down the list of reoccurring characters.
If you are reading this on Facebook, I'm not sure you'll see what we are talking about unless you visit the real deal.
I'll keep adding as I a.) am not asleep, b.) find a picture of you. Please feel free to argue changes to your entry. But remember, this is the You I have painted for my online diary. That doesn't mean it has to be the Real You.
Anyway, thanks for making up such an all-star cast, friends.
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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