Gah! or Miseries of a Modern World

I just wasted half an hour performing a theatrical masterpiece for a disinterested Indian on the other side of the world.
This is maybe the 3rd time that I've accidently paid the wrong account on Internet Billpay through my bank.
The problem really is that my husband and I each have accounts at several stores, and they are listed with the store name, and the last 4 digits of the account number on my roster of creditors, not our names.
So, I have to be careful and check the account numbers each time.
One store even has the last 4 digits the same on both accounts, but I know the 1st one listed is hubby's.
SO! When I pay the wrong account, I get credit on the account with no balance, and a fucking late charge on the bill I meant to pay!
Then, I have to call the company, pretend to be my husband, explain the convoluted thing, get a refund on my late charge (because I never! pay late otherwise), apply the payment made in error to other account, etc.
The whole time, I affect a man's voice-ish, warbling occasionally, and keep correcting the guy every time he calls me Miss.
It's laughable, but I am not paying a $29 late fee for being in a hurry, and silly!
Can I get a witness?

Fantasy courtesy of Syd Meade

Brand New Tomorrow

Who needs a movie?

Easter sugar buzz

Easter is done, my family has a sugar hangover.
Iggy is subject to mood swings and cavities.

Finally!

Iggy has been peeing on the john for quite a while, but #2 was a bit stubborn... until yesterday!!!!! I was absolutely giddy.

Happy St. Patrick's Day, by the way, from a grouchy leprechaun.

From infancy, my mom painted my ears green (w/ food coloring) during the night before St. Paddy's, and told me it was rogue leprechauns marking Irish children while they slept. This is a mite strange since my mother was born in Cuba (I am Irish on my paternal side), but whatever. It was a tradition, however warped, and I was even on the news for it once at dance class.

So, my mom and I got the q-tips and food coloring, and snuck into Iggy's room. He, however, doesn't sleep that soundly at times, and tossed around while I tried to paint, and I only got one ear! I guess he's only half as Irish as I was. Here are a couple of pics.

Oh, yeah, my mom stopped vandalizing me when I went into Middle School, fearing bullying from other students.

Wave of Mutilation

This a small sampling of the carnage that awaits me almost daily when the weather turns nice, it happens so often that I stopped taking pictures unless it was an exceptional specimen. My cat is a bloody killer. His name is Baby, terrorist of 14th street.
*not pictured: bat, cardinal, blue jay, voles, mice, every baby robin in the vacinity

How do I know spring is coming?

By the fresh layer of feathers and various bird parts on my porch.

I am lame

I just realized how long it's been since I have posted.

Life is pushing along, spring is definitely a welcome prospect.

My son is becoming a great conversationalist, and has great ideas.

Blackberries are delicious. Strawberry season is coming.

We are trying to plan a vacation to the beach.

*That is NOT Iggy's playpen in the photo, we had a much younger guest! Iggy started climbing early and has been in a big bed (no rails!) since he was 14 months old!

NSFW but funnier than hell...

I love Natalie Dee

Iggy says...

" I dont like worms, they are SO happy."