Judgmental (A Rap Song)

Several months ago I posted my version of a Taylor Swift song. I don’t think I even gave it a title besides “Channeling My Inner Taylor Swift”. I should have called it “Broken” or “Life is So Unfair” or something equally pathetic. The idea for my next song came directly from the title: Judgmental. I tried really hard to channel my inner, illiterate rapper. Enjoy!

Judgmental
(A Rap Song by Jelly)

Between you and me
There ain’t no history
But I’m lookin and I’m seein
Forming opinions about your rear-en

Talkin don’t do much
Thinkin is such a rush
I’m going to be honest with you girl
You more nuts than a squirrel

I’m judgmental, judgmental
I ain’t got no credentials
But I’m sure as sh*t still mental
Heeyy ya!!!

Judge me, judge you
Judging what’s we gots to do!

I don’t got no robe
I don’t sit on no throne
I’m just another player
Got my J.D. as a lay-er

Cause I’m judgmental, judgmental
I don’t need no credentials
But I’m sure as sh*t still mental
Heeyy ya!!!

Shackin Fixtures

The Sugar Shack’s in this phase where the changes do not produce the most compelling photos (there are only so many pictures of wood framing that I can take). But in an effort to document the process, I present you with some pictures of the electrical fixture installation.

Here is the entrance where a single fixture will hang. We’re going for a wow-that-fixture-is-so-cool-I-want-to-buy-the-house look. It will also be accompanied by two wall scones off to the left.

The kitchen will have recessed lighting as well as two pendant lights overhanging the island.

The dining room will have a centered chandelier and a couple of recessed lights along the south facing wall. Or maybe they’re can lights? I’ll have to check with my builder.

And to round it out, here’s the laundry room where the mac daddy of all electrical panels is set. Very, very nice.

I hear that drywall might be going up this week, so I promise I’ll have something more exciting to share soon! Although I’m getting pretty good at being a boring blogger. “And most boring blog of the year goes to…… The Jelly Logs!” I would be so honored.

Deal Breaker

That's a powerful phrase I used to use a lot when I was a young, single girl. But when you find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, that word exits your vocabulary (as does the ego you spent so much time protecting). The word that enters in its place is compromise.

In these last, increasingly stressful, exciting months until the big day I’ve tried to use that word, deal breaker, but it comes out so flat and meaningless it reminds me of my college personal statement; just a bunch of words that don’t really mean anything, even though I try to convince you I mean business.

(I may or may not have compared donating blood to being in the army… and I talked about getting tree sap on my butt).

Ok, I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to reread it. Remember in high school when you didn’t want your friends to read your personal statement because you thought they’d steal your oratory brilliance? (Or was that just me?) Well I’m not going to be insecure or selfish any longer. Here’s an excerpt from my ridiculous personal statement. It starts like so:

“As I gazed up at the night sky, and traced the outline of Orion with my finger, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I had just spent the last four days backpacking through the wilderness of Yosemite's National Park, with nothing but the pack on my back and the ten other Girl Scouts surrounding me. It had all started when I saw a flyer for a backpacking trip through Yosemite, and not wanting to pass up this amazing opportunity, I signed up hoping my desire for travel and adventure would soon be fulfilled. We had the next month to plan, prepare, and coordinate every aspect of the trip to make sure it was a success. Although sitting through an eight-hour drive to Yosemite was hard, the real test of my strength and endurance started as I stepped out of the car and strapped my pack to my back. Waking up early to see if any forest neighbors had stolen or eaten our food was followed by a ten-mile hike, setting up our new camp, filtering gallons of stream water, and making our daily meals. During the last night, as I lay in my sleeping bag with aching muscles and a body covered in tree sap, I realized how rewarding and fulfilling the last four days had been.”

Can you say classic high school BRAT? How the hell did I even get into college? Geez.

Back to my point, and I’ll keep it short and sweet: don’t threaten your loved one with a phrase like deal breaker. You’ll just sound stupid.

The End

A Couple Facts about Flying

1) It’s much faster than driving.

Driving up the I-5 on a Friday afternoon is not my favorite way to start the weekend.

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2) One word: autopilot.

Sure it’s important to know how to fly the plane, you know, for those important parts like takeoffs and landings. But for the rest of the flight? Why would you if you can punch in some directions and the plane will fly itself.

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3) Advances in aviation technology have made flying safer than ever.

This is one of the TWO display screens that make up the integrated flight instrument system in the cockpit. There’s even a nice flight attendant/computer person who comes on the speakers and yells things like “TRAFFIC! TRAFFIC! 10 O’CLOCK. LOW” and “TERRAIN! TERRAIN! PULL UP! PULL UP!” when we’re getting into sticky situations.

Oh, and the little plane in the picture is us. (Had you guessed?)

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4) You can practically go anywhere you want.

Even to the moon! You’ll have to ask Richard Branson for a ride though. We don’t have a plane with that much power… yet.

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5) Landing is the hardest part of flying.

And don’t let anybody try to tell you different.

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6) You will feel an immense amount of pain at the pump.

Let’s see… $6.00 a gallon for Avgas, burning about 30 gallons an hour, on a 3 hour round trip flight… I JUST DIED.

I won’t be complaining about sitting in traffic anymore. Not at that rate.

Living with Thunder

This past weekend at the Ranch was the first time we stayed in Rolling Thunder, which is great, because that was the whole point of the exercise: to have a place that's our home away from home. We made a ceremonial shopping trip where bought all sorts of groceries to fill the cupboards and fridge. This was obviously overkill, considering that two people can only eat so much on a weekend trip, but it made the place feel a little more like home. We also moved in some furniture. I had the coveted job of killing all the spiders that had taken up residence under the dressers and tables, and let me tell you, there were a lot of them. I used 409 to finish off the stubborn buggers that were hiding in the cracks. I don't like spiders. They're freaky.

So would you like to see how the place is looking these days? Alright, let's take a tour.

As we enter through the front door you will be greeted by an empty living room. We still haven't figured out the couch situation. I suppose we could invite guests to share Cocoa's dog bed?

In the hallway we have a little bookshelf. Wes wanted a gun rack, but all the gun racks on the ranch are in use. Where do you think all these bad boys are stored:

Getting back on track...

Here's our lovely bathroom.

Our tiny bedroom.

Which is actually perfect, because who spends time in a bedroom when there's stuff to shoot and airplanes to fly outside? Not us that's who.

Here's a view of the living room which opens into the kitchen.

Two new furniture additions: a side table on which we can place all "our crap" as we like to call it, and a dining table where we can have meals. Again, only two chairs. Rolling Thunder isn't the most guest-friendly house yet.

And clearly the most awesome part of the pad is the kitchen.

We upgraded to a fridge that doesn't require a gate latch to keep closed. Confused? Well, our fridge in the Valley has a gate latch on it, but that's another story for another time.

Hope you've enjoyed the tour! We'll work on that whole guest-friendly aspect the next time we're there, so maybe ya'll have a place to sit.

Camo Toe

One of the presents Wes received for Christmas was a box of camouflage band aids, because Wes LOVES himself some Camo. They’ve rarely been used since we received them, not because we don’t injure ourselves (see previous posts about building porches with flip flops on etc.), but because Wes doesn’t use band aids and I would prefer a more subtle bandage than a camouflage one. This was not the case several weeks ago, when I had to resort to using the Camo band aids on a toe injury because we were all out of the others. And so I present my most recent Illustrator masterpiece: Camo Toe.

I’ve been waiting weeks to find the time to create this one. I’m sorry it took me so long. Hilarious.

Dear World

It’s Wednesday. And since we’re reaching that time of the week where Friday seems so close but so far, I'm having trouble keeping my thoughts straight. And so, I’ve written a little note to the World:

Dear World,

I really love you. I do. But why do you have to be so complicated sometimes?

Why can’t I drive to work and not have worry about the sleeper cop that likes to gives tickets for going 40mph in a 35mph zone? Seriously, my truck hasn’t even shifted in third gear when I’m going 35mph. Therefore I’m burning more gas and subsequently destroying the ozone layer by doing so.

Why does making a mistake 3 YEARS AGO have to rule my life now? Should I be worried about that time I pooped in the bathtub when I was 2 years old and how that speaks about my self-control and hygiene now? Isn’t there such a thing as a Get-Out-of-Jail free card? (I guess I should also admit that I cheated in Monopoly when I was little, especially when it involved getting the Get-Out-of-Jail free card). I'm a bad, bad, person.

Why, World, are you so beautiful? Why are you so big? Why can’t you give everyone, what they need to live?

Ok, I got carried away with that last one. I needed something that rhymed.

I guess I should get back to work now...

Until next time!