How Danny Thomas Almost Killed Me ...

Well OK, it wasn't actually the actor, but the Danny Thomas party rental truck. It just sounded so much more interesting to say it was Danny Thomas don't you think?

Anyway, here's what happened.

I was driving through the park one day... oh wait, no.. I was driving through the mountains on my way home.

Normally this isn't cause for concern. However, today I was driving my husbands wife killing contraption car, which is always a cause for caution when I'm on the roads.

You see, his car is a stick shift.



I do not do the whole clutch, shifting gears thing. They are dangerous devices and should be outlawed!!

Ever since I was 15 and took my first driving lesson in one, I've hated them. The lesson started out innocently enough. In the beginning I did pretty good, tootling around the hills of my neighborhood having a jolly time.

At the end of the lesson however, I needed to make a stop. There I was, the first one stopped at a light to turn left.

3 miles of cars were behind me waiting their turn.

Can you guess what happened?

Yep. I stalled the car. Not once. Not twice. But 5 times! This meant all 3 miles of cars, myself included missed the light 5 times. Much honking and swearing ensued. Needless to say I was traumatized. Beyond repair. I NEVER drove a stick again.

Until ...

I married a man who insists that sticks are the only way to go. Ugh.

He's been very sweet about this phobia of mine, and even tried to teach me again how to drive his car. Which I'm proud to say I'm really good at!

Unless I need to stop.

Our first year together we took a road trip to Seattle. Since we took his car, he did most of the driving. Well one day in a fit of extreme insanity generosity I offered to do some of the driving so he could rest.

At the time it didn't seem like a big deal, as we were driving on a flat road going through some mountain valley.

Well, good things come to an end, and we came upon a little town with one stoplight. Of course the light turned red, just as I approached. And yes I was the first one again, with cars behind me.

Naturally I stalled the car, several times. Once I stopped crying we finally got going, I was immediately pulled over by a cop.



He thought I was drunk! Meekly I explained that no I haven't been drinking kind sir, I just don't know how to drive this F%$#@!* stick shift.

He let me go.

So today I'm driving his car again, because mine, the Black Beast may he rest in peace,



disintegrated while I was driving to the grocery store one day. Poor thing it held on as long as it could. It just gave a final chug as I drove across the intersection and then expired. I'm hoping someday to resurrect him, but until then it's my husbands car for me.

Okay, so I got a little off track, but you needed that background information to understand my fear of the manual transmission right? Just say yes, ok?

Anyhoo, back to Danny Thomas ...

So I'm driving home up the hill, when I approach a line of cars, led by the Danny Thomas Party Rental truck. Judging from the angry noises issuing from under the hood, that perhaps 4th gear may be just a tad high for the slow pace I was now going, I went to shift into 2nd gear. That's when all hell broke loose.

I don't know what the F%$# I did, but one thing I did NOT do was shift into 2nd. Instead, the car started to do the death chug, to combat this, I stepped on gas harder so It wouldn't stall. Uh.. Right..

Now I have to stop here and say, that I was on a hill roughly as steep as Lombard Street in San Francisco. If you are unfamiliar with that particular road, just imagine a street that goes straight up to the sky and that's Lombard.

So here I am fighting with this car to keep going and of course it stalls. Right in the middle of the road!

Naturally I panicked. I restarted and stalled. Restarted and rolled down the hill, then stalled. All the time keeping in mind that at any second a car can come whizzing around the corner as they are wont to do in the mountains, and ram right into me.

Since the hill was so steep, every time I tried again, the car would roll backwards, causing me to panic more. Finally after using the emergency brake and some fancy footwork, after the 4th attempt I got it going and made it home safe and sound.

And thank god, because if I had been hit from behind, Danny Thomas,




would have a lot to answer for!!

Raindrops on roses..

I realize I haven't posted in almost a week now, but I have a good excuse. Really.

Well ... sort of.

You see, I actually have a life outside the blogosphere. Well OK, that's actually untrue, but play along with me on this one okay?

Anyhoo, One day, in a fit of energy, I accidentally unleashed something that I haven't seen or dealt with in quite awhile. Can you guess what it is?

Go on, I'll give you a minute..

Got it?


NO?

Well alright I'll show you.

But if you are of the squeamish persuasion you might want to scroll past this really quick to the next section.

OK ready? Look closely now, but be very quiet. I don't want to scare it away...

Here it is ...











Yep that's right.

I found Snoopy drawing Woodstock, while I was cleaning out the hall closet. I find him like that every few years lurking around dark dirty corners of my house. He usually resurfaces when I go on a big cleaning spree ...

What??

Gosh I can't understand why you don't believe me!

Honestly. My feelings are really hurt. I may never blog again. I bet you feel bad now don't you?

NO?

Damn!



Well alright, it is actually my inner artist. I totally thought I'd lost it. But In a rare moment I was actually able to capture a picture of it, so I could prove that it still exists. Pretty amazing huh?

If you ask nicely and promise not to laugh, I might show you what I'm working on in a future post.

In the meantime, I'll entertain you with a few of my favorite annoying things that have happened this past week. Some if not all may or may not have happened today.

1. When a pile of dirt loosely resembling one of your cats, comes tearing through the house, the second AFTER you have just mopped, swept, and vacuumed. And then proceeds to lie around on every available surface spreading even more muck around.



2. When your husband decides that crunchy Cheetos in the very noisy bag is the perfect snack to eat, while you are trying to take a much needed nap on the couch.



3. When you decide to make the 30 minute trek over the hill, to go to the nearest art store, only to find that 3/4 of the way there, the road is closed. Causing you to turn around, go back the way you came and all the way around the mountain resulting in an extra hour of travel time, just to get a tube of paint and a bottle of glitter.



Bonus: When you get back home, and then don't feel like working on painting, making that whole trip to the art store completely worthless.

Even better, is the fact that you could have just waited until the next day, when you would be at work, in very close proximity to said art store, and could have picked up supplies on your way home.

And last but certainly not least,

4. When one of the five cats you own decides that peeing in the appropriate places that he's gone all his life, i.e. outside or the litter box, is no longer good enough, and instead pees willy nilly wherever he damn well pleases. Including but not limited to:

Your bed 3 times, resulting in 3 different comforter washings,
Your purse,
Your car registration papers,
The stove,
And ...
Yours truly. 3 different times. Once In the face.

Bonus, when said cat has been taken to the vet to rule out medical reasons for this behavior and none is found, resulting in the terrible realization that peeing around the house is actually his choice, and now you have a very difficult behavior problem to deal with.

Even better? When a different cat gets wind of what's going on, and decides to pee all over your husbands circuit boards he's building for work.

Ah yes. Good times

Detour Ahead...

As you may know, a couple of years ago I moved up to the mountains.

Unfortunately when I moved, my job didn't come with me. I wish! Since I prefer to live indoors, it is a necessity that I work.

Now in order for me to get to work, I need to travel over the hill and through the woods into the land of traffic. On a good day, Sunday for instance when the roads are clear, my drive is only about 45 minutes. With traffic however ... it could take months.

This brings up an important topic that I wish to address. Roadwork!



Please. Is it really necessary to begin working on the roadways during commute hours? Specifically at 7:30 in the morning when I happen to be making my way to work?

For the love of god! Surely you must realize that this the most hectic commute time of the day? And that by starting emergency surgery on that pothole that has been in the road for 3 years, you are not helping the traffic situation one bit.



No I can't get up earlier to make allowances for delays. I was up late last night blogging and certainly can't be bothered to get up any sooner than the I already do!

I think you will agree that as a taxpayer I am technically paying a portion of your salary. Therefore, you are in a sense working for me.

Now as your employer, I would like to look into fixing this little problem.

Perhaps you reside in a cave and haven't noticed that a large majority of people commute to work in the mornings. As there is enough congestion and road rage just getting to work on a normal day, I am somewhat mystified that roadwork would be started during this very busy time.

If this is your idea of a joke ...



I assure you, I am not amused.

Thankfully I have a solution which I think will benefit us both. It's a novel idea really. I'm surprised you haven't thought of it!

Why not start working at say, 10:00 a.m. instead? Not only will you be able to sleep in, but it will help alleviate aggression towards other commuters when Idiots people slow down to gawk at your bright orange trucks.

Take this morning for instance. I am normally a calm, rational person. Naturally I was shocked to find myself leaning out my window yelling, "Get a move on, you stupid asswipe!" to the car in front of me.

Yes I know orange is a pretty color! I like it too. Some of us however need to get to work TODAY and can't be bothered to slow down for the cone zone.


I mean honestly, I'm sure the workmen will kindly move out of the way as I go speeding past.

By starting at 10:00, this will allow ample time for the morning commuters to arrive at their destinations stress free and in a timely fashion.

If anyone is on the roads after 10:00, I figure they must be unemployed, and therefore surely wouldn't mind sitting in your traffic, as they have nowhere important to be.

Really it's a win win situation.

So you may not get paid for as many hours in a day as you used to. And maybe you need to take a second job in order to pay your mortgage every month. But just think how happy it will make me not to be sitting at a standstill behind miles of cars that should by all rights be moving!

Obviously I'll be thinking of you sleeping soundly in your bed, as I sail along on my way to work at 7:30 in the effing morning!!

Excuse me, your crazy is showing...

Well apparently the crazies have gotten a hold of the phones again today. I'm guessing whoever's job it is to is supervise them, must have stepped out for smoke break thus leaving them unattended long enough to make phone calls.

Sensing a moment of freedom they must have all banded together through some sort of Special Secret Crazy People Network (SSCPN), and decided it would be a good idea to phone up my work and drive me insane. All in one day!

I do love my job, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I miss talking to the animals. Unlike their owners they don't talk back. All they ask is for a little love and attention.

They don't act like you should be able to read their mind, and then get mad at you when you ask a very simple but important question.

They don't call up to complain or accuse you of trying to rip them off when you try in vain to explain the reason why little fluffy who hasn't been examined in 5 years, needs to see the doctor before they prescribe any medication (yes heartworm and worm medication is a prescription), because believe it or not it's against the law not to.

They don't yell at you when the doctor is running late, or when things aren't going exactly the way they want, and then turn on the charm extra bright when the doctor walks in like nothing was the matter. Bastards.

Oops was that out loud?


In short, they aren't rude or yell or get angry. Well not intentionally anyway. Sometimes they get all freaky on you, but that's only out of fear. You really can't blame them or get mad.

Only a few times have I ever had an animal freak the fuck out on me.

A few special episodes of cats flying around the exam room teeth and claws a gleaming the second you lay a hand on them. Little feline whirling dervishes, bouncing off the walls, hissing and spitting ready to take on the unlucky soul who's job it is to capture them which would be me of course.


When they finally calm down it looks like a tornado had come by, because during their little flight of fury they somehow managed to knock over every item that wasn't bolted down, including the computer.

But before these unfortunate incidents happened I swear the cats all looked just like this,



Then there was the bunny that attempted suicide by springing off the exam table out of it's owners arms only to hit the wall with a loud thud and then fall to the floor, somewhat dazed but amazingly unharmed.

Oh and how can I forget the ginormous dog little 'ol me was trying to restrain on a treatment table when he suddenly reared up and hit me square in the jaw, hard enough to throw me against the wall and damn near giving me a concussion. The best part was that he caused the doctor to miss his target while trying to give an injection and ended up squirting me in the eye instead.

This was in the days before I wore glasses on a regular basis. And it is precisely why I won't switch to contacts. I like having my own little safety goggles and trust me I've had plenty of things squirted in my eyes (at work. I know what you're thinking) which reminds me of the time....

I was holding the back legs of another ginormous dog for an ultrasound, when he abruptly reached out and kicked me, thrusting his very dirty paws straight into my mouth. I wouldn't have been too concerned ( I know gross huh?) had I not just seen him moments before dancing in his urine.

Even then, I wouldn't have freaked out like I did, had it not been for the fact the he had a very dangerous, potentially fatal disease that can be transferred to humans. How is it transferred? By urine of course.

What did I do? Naturally I washed my mouth out with the Vodka we keep on hand for the antifreeze pets.




You know cause it's alcohol and alcohol disinfects right?

Honest. That's what they told me to do.

Incidentally pets that have antifreeze poisoning get a vodka IV for like 2 days straight. Yep they are feeling pretty good.


Then there was the time, the dog I was restraining, decided he was through with the procedure even if we weren't, and tried to leave the table, just at the precise moment the doctor was about to stick a needle in him to get a sample, but ended up biopsying my hand instead.

But my favorite by far, was a little tiny 4 pound one of these,




that had me and the male doctor I was working with backed up against the wall of the exam room absolutely terrified, because he was very definitely trying to kill us. Even at the time I had to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Ah good times.. Come to think of it I quite miss working with the little buggers, even if they are trying to kill me.

Honestly, I'd take them over the crazies any day. That says a lot don't you think?