cindy's world

So the two feared predictions happened.

1) My roofer held off starting the repairs because he said it may rain Monday-Wednesday and they can’t replace a roof when it’s wet and being rained on. I was hoping it wouldn’t rain because the sky looked CLEAR all last week. It poured yesterday and last nite. I put buckets, bowls and cups down at the prior drippage sites but when I left this morning, it still hadn’t dripped. *crossing fingers*

2) I called my Association’s treasurer last nite and told him about the estimate. As expected, he balked, and said the association doesn’t have that much money. So he told me to get at least one more estimate, and meanwhile they were going to write letters to all the other homeowners in the association to try and collect $300 from each of them to pitch in for my roof repair, which, he reminded me, will take some time so we won’t be able to pay any contractor until a month after the job’s done. After I hung up last nite, I sat there thinking there ain’t no WAY they’re gonna pay for my internal ceiling damage, no matter what the law says. I can sue them, but it’ll be just a wasted effort if they don’t have the funds to pay the judgment, AND I’ll have all my neighbors mad at me. So I may as well have my insurance take care of the internal damage and pay the hefty deductible myself. Crap.

All right, so Mr. W was right.

Dodo has added new step to his morning routine. Normally, he wakes up and meows to wake me up, and then follows me into the bathroom as I get ready. He’d rub up against my leg while I’m sitting there all droopy and sleepy on the toilet (sorry, TMI), and then while I’m showering, putting on my face, etc., he’s lounging in the hallway right outside the bathroom door. And then when I’m ready, he walks me downstairs, I replenish his food and water, and as he’s eating, I leave.

Now, somehow, he’s realized that when I step out of the shower, the bottom of the tub still has puddles of water collected. And he’s decided that this water tastes great. For the past week, when I open the bathroom door after my shower, Dodo pads in, meows his greeting at me, rubs up against my leg, and I have to pet him to acknowledge him. As soon as I do, which he takes as permission to leave because he’s done his foremost duty of attending to me, he puts his forepaws on the edge of the tub, sniffs, the hind legs go up and all four paws balance on the rim of the tub as Dodo looks in, and then there’s a light “thump” as he goes into the tub. Soon, there’s happy lapping sounds. *lick lick lick lick lick*

But what’s interesting to me is that he won’t go in the tub until I give him leave, which is my petting him when he’s affectionately rubbing against my leg. If I ignore him, he’ll keep leaning against me, start meowing, and then if I continue to ignore him and he gives up, he’ll just sit down very close to me and wait. He won’t leave to do what he really wants to do. So do animals follow some kind of heirarchy etiquette? Like how the female lions won’t eat until the male lion has already eaten and then walked away, thus giving the lionesses the “cue” that they are now permitted to feed?

Humans are so uncouth.

Our current trial had opening statements yesterday. It’s all about an apartment’s roofing damage, mold/mildew causing health problems and the repair/destruction of “popcorn” ceilings leading to asbestos issues with the tenants. My court reporter looked over at me pointedly. If I hadn’t just cut my fingernails really short, I’d have been gnawing on them right then.

The highly-recommended roofer came by my house yesterday. I wasn’t there for the inspection as I was stuck at work with this trial, but Mr. W left work early and went to my house to meet the roofer. (Awww.) Turns out the entire flat upper of the roof needs to be replaced, AND since my central A/C and heating unit is up on the roof, a crane has to be rented to lift it for the roof demolition. Crane rentals are like $360, I think he said. The primary reason for the leaks is that due to lack of maintenance on the roof (the Homeowner Association’s responsibility), both drain pipes were completely clogged. There are (still) two deep pools of water in front of both drain pipes, which led to the internal leakage. The roof was originally constructed to purposely angle toward the drainholes, but the undrained pools of water over time have softened the material underneath and created a sag, so that the roof is no longer angled toward the drain hole. All things the association, had they done their job of regular roof maintenance, could have prevented or repaired before I got internal damage.

I get the roof job estimate on Monday. Everyone’s telling me to make the association pay for the internal damage as well.

Oh, I asked the roofer (who was very nice and seemed to really know his shit) about the asbestos. He asked when my house was built, and then promptly said that they stopped building with asbestos at least 5 years prior, so I’m fine. Besides, he explained, asbestos is only bad when it’s airborne, like when you tear into the construction, and not when it’s merely used as a construction material. Whew!

I haven’t been home all weekend. This morning, opening my bedroom door revealed all sorts of white stuff all over my bedroom floor. I first thought it was Dodo playing with something and tearing it up, and then I thought the pieces looked like styrofoam. Uh-oh. Dreadfully, I looked up. A large portion of my popcorn ceiling has become popcorn flooring.

It’s been pouring rain all weekend and I’ve naively enjoyed it, thinking it great for our current California water crisis. Even despite an association member and neighbor’s phone call to me early Sunday morning asking if I had any leaks (and my explaining I wasn’t home to check but that I didn’t think so), it really did not occur to me that I’d have a problem. I ran around upstairs checking other ceilings, looking in closets. I found another leak, a milder one, in the spare bedroom. I padded down the damp areas on the carpet and set up a bucket to catch the rhythmic drippage in my bedroom, drops falling off the ceiling fan. On the drive to work, I called the neighbor who’d called me about his ceiling leak and left a voice mail explaining mine. He was going to call the roofers, he’d told me on Sunday morning.

Despite the small wet disasters going on at home, I see the silver linings around the rainy clouds:
* the leaks did not occur over electronics, paintings, other valuables that would be irreparably damaged.
* I had pre-sorted my laundry before washing, leaving piles on the floor in my bedroom, and the drips occurred over these piles. Two piles of clothes were completely drenched. But this is a fortunate thing, because the two piles were tough workout clothes and not my delicates, AND the fact that they were there kept the water from soaking into my carpet, going through the floor/ceiling and creating another water problem/leak downstairs, possibly onto my big screen TV or something. One ceiling is easier to repair than two. No wonder I hadn’t had the urge to actually DO my laundry after presorting them for the past week. (I’d taken the two waterlogged piles and thrown them in the washing machine and started the cycle before I left for work.)
* As is typical of our schizophrenic California weather, today and the remainder of the week is projected to be dry and ultra-sunny, probably in the low 70s. That’ll give my roof some time to dry off and be repaired.

Mr. W just called and I just told him. He went through a bout of cussing and Chicken Little-esque “the sky is falling” proclamations, about how the space between my roof and my bedroom ceiling is damaged now and how my association better do something and get my roof repaired and reminding me how I had to pay last year for other peoples’ leaks when I didn’t have leaks and about how I’d better keep calling the guy and getting on him (even though I think he’s not answering his home phone because he’s at work), and suddenly I’m feeling a lot more gloomy about the whole situation.

I hope it’s not going to cost me a bundle. I don’t have a bundle of money I can spare right now…

After a (Satur)day of house-hunting (my favorite house is unfortunately 3.5 million buckaroos) and discussion about how to best handle and grow our finances, I take this horoscope as a good sign:

Possibilities arise from unusual places now, but this won’t make them any less favorable. Emotionally charged discussions with friends or a romantic partner could lead you to a conceptual breakthrough as you realize a new way to reach your goals. Remain open to the alternatives, for your path is about to widen if you let it. Sunday, December 16, 2007

One of the realtors who was manning an open house we stumbled upon started a discussion with us about our possibilities, and is hooking us up with a financial advisor and a broker to see where we stand. He also said we’re at the best possible time with the best possible scenario (as far as our finances and current positions in housing are concerned), ready to lay in wait until our perfect prey ripens at the lowest price, then we’ll swoop in and be victors in our new home. *crossing fingers*

Sunday, Mr. W and I took our two sets of respective parents to The Stinking Rose for dinner. The elders seemed to get along fine although I thought my parents spoke too much Chinese among themselves for my taste. But both sides did make effort to chat and get to know each other. Nothing weird happened at all (except for my mom’s stomachache, I need to email her and check up on her), no tension, and everyone was overall jovial. *whew*

I’d resolved to actually write and mail Christmas cards this year. I’ve been wanting to do this for years, but never got around to it. Now all I need are addresses, and I get to spread some Christmas cheer! *jazz hands*

A coworker sent out this comparison…
~ * ~

PRICE OF GAS AROUND THE WORLD
Prices are quoted in US dollars per gallon for regular unleaded.

Oslo, Norway
$6.82

Hong Kong
$6.25

Brussels, Belgium
$6.16

London, UK
$5.96

Rome, Italy
$5.80

Tokyo, Japan
$5.25

Sao Paulo, Brazil
$4.42

New Delhi, India
$3.71

Sidney, Australia
$3.42

Johannesburg, South Africa
$3.39

Mexico City
$2.22

Buenos Aires, Argentina
$2.09

… YOU’RE GONNA LOVE THIS ..

Riyadh , Saudi Arabia
$0.91

Kuwait
$0.78

Caracas, Venezuela
$0.12

~ * ~
Damn those, uh, import fees.

My blog administrator, Wilco, sent me an email that said that for the month of November…

“these are the top 20 search strings used to find your blog.
#1 is just disturbing.

Top 20 Search Strings
# ….. Hits ….. Search String
1 ….. 101 ….. 10.05% ….. elongated nipples
2 ….. 55 ……. 5.47% …… nyquil trip
3 ….. 38 …… 3.78% ……. cindy’s world
4 ….. 32 …… 3.18% ……. friendship questionnaire
5 ….. 26 …… 2.59% ……. nyquil dosage
6 ….. 23 …… 2.29% ……. hamlet for kids
7 ….. 18 …… 1.79% ……. psychopath test
8 ….. 11 …… 1.09% …….. cindy dog lover
9 …… 9 …… 0.90% …….. flight attendant humor
10 …. 9 …… 0.90% ……. mother natalia
11 …. 9 …… 0.90% ……. trip on nyquil
12 …. 8 ….. 0.80% …….. elongated nipple
13 …. 8 ….. 0.80% …….. nyquil tripping
14 …. 7 ….. 0.70% …….. cindy s world
15 …. 7 ….. 0.70% …….. hamlet for children
16 …. 7 ….. 0.70% …….. just nipples
17 …. 5 ….. 0.50% …….. long boobies
18 …. 4 ….. 0.40% …….. antiquated words
19 …. 4 ….. 0.40% …….. dr. marissa von trapp
20 …. 4 ….. 0.40% …….. fun with hamlet and friends”

If we add the 101 hits for #1 to the 8 hits for #12, we have 109 hits from people searching for things about “elongated nipple(s).” Why? Is this a fetish thing or is this a health informational concern? I don’t suppose any of these people would post a comment and satisfy my curiosity.

It also looks like a lot of people are looking for a quick high through Nyquil.

NYQUIL! Why am I not taking cough syrup for my hacks? I’m retarded.

My blog sponsor “Wilco” and his wife Christi are currently fostering three very cute puppies (or as Wilco sees them, three very cute poo production machines). Christi named the girl “Puck” with the footnote “i know, puck isn’t really a girls name, but don’t tell her that”; and named the two boys “Cujo” and “Marleau.”

I asked Christi where the puppies got their unusual names. She replied, “They are named after my favorite hockey players. Cujo = Curtis Joseph, who played on a handful of teams, but who I will always know and love as a Maple Leaf. Marleau = Patrick Marleau, the beloved captain of the San Jose Sharks. I was trying to pick names that would be universally recognizable, but I guess I failed.”

I don’t think it’s so much that Christi failed, as I’m sure people like Flat Coke & Flies and Bat got the reference right away, but seeing as how I only went to my very first hockey game a couple of weeks ago over Thanksgiving break, and that being also the very first hockey game I’d ever watched, I was thinking “Puck” – a tribute to the playfully mischievous sprite, Puck, in Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”; “Cujo” – the antagonist killer dog in Stephen King’s novel by the same name; “Marleau” – a cute French way of spelling the last name of famed early literature genius Christopher Marlowe.

:/

I suppose the money spent on acquiring an English Lit degree at UCLA wasn’t a total waste…

Childhood friend Sandy and I were discussing how men go quiet when you call them on something that they messed up on, and then you find yourself hurt AND talking to yourself. Her analysis was too funny not to share:

sandy: sometimes they’re quiet .. because they’re not nearly as quick in response as us..
sandy: they’re really thinking…
sandy: it’s not obvious to them…
sandy: it’s … “uh oh.. i fucked up”… “what should/could i say now?”
sandy: hence quiet.. while we’re like.. i can’t believe “YOU” have nothing to say..
sandy: and we come up with a whole bunch of things..
sandy: they they feel even stupider…
sandy: so they’re quiet again… now they have 2 thoughts to process.. not just one

Since you’re reading this, I assume you’re on at least a 5-minute break, which concidentally is just enough time to witness the incredible creation of this patriotic work of art! Here’s to the heroes. Turn your speakers on.