All Your Blinkers Are Useless Here.

Things I’ve learned since moving to Texas:

• I have an accent. I am amused. Ya. Youbetcha.
• Kolaches. Look them up: they are not a sneeze, despite what you may be thinking. Weird…but I’m planning to try the bacon/egg/cheese version.
• Someone explain to me WHAT THE FUCK SKITTERED across my bathroom floor at 3am? 3am is the fucking DEMON HOUR, people. Demons skittering across my bathroom floor.  Do you know how precarious a nearly-blind-without-her-glasses woman’s position is at 3am, naked and desperately trying to balance on the toilet to keep feet from touching the floor without peeing on the seat? Obviously this will become a skill, as I fear further invasions by Legion. I still don’t know what the hell that was. Husband says it was a doghair ball: I say if the doghair balls start moving like fucking spiders across the tile I’m moving the fuck out. (Yes, we have various types of bug killing things in the house all over…where the dogs can’t get to them). I’m still creeped out.
• Blogger’s spell check doesn’t recognize the validity of the word “doghair” as a single word. I protest, and as such will leave it in. Also, “creeped” is a word, goddammit.
• Blinkers are the pantyhose of the automotive world: forgotten bits of the car’s wardrobe relegated to the back of the drawer with lonely socks and unsexy underwear.
• Seven inches = one car length while in traffic. Be goddamned sure your brakes work before entering the breach.
• There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with u-turns that block three lanes of heavy traffic: you are SO much more important than anyone else on the road.
• Car insurance is expensive in a state where the philosophy is “if you don’t get out of my way, it’s no problem for me to get another dent when I shove you. With my car.”
• Correspondingly, I’m terrified to drive the Mustang here, and I’m tempted to put her in storage until we move again.
• One of my new co-workers has this on her computer background. She says the stares make her feel like Putin and Catsputin are monitoring her work, and so she focuses more. Indeed.
• You know my superpower for receiving personal information from random strangers? It took 2 days at the new job. That’s a new record for me.

In other news, Chewy had a few big adventures in the past week. The day Lowes delivered our new appliances (because no goddamned rental units in this state have a washer, dryer, or refrigerator…sigh), the delivery dudes accidentally didn’t close the back gate all the way.

Chewy, being the savvy guard dog he’s turned out to be, quickly discovered during his routine edge-of-the-yard fence check. Chewy is FAR more concerned with ensuring the yard is appropriately secure. He reminds me of the vultures in Disney’s Robin Hood, actually. He barrels out the door and makes a determined beeline to the far right corner of the yard, complete with WAWOO to the dogs in the neighbors’ yards, grumbling and growling at any new smell that’s appeared since his last patrol. He’ll say hello to all neighborhood animals to the right of us (dog and cat), behind us (at least one dog), and to the left of us (five dogs and a pool)…in order…every time we go outside. He’s loving his new role.

So when the delivery dudes left the gate unlocked, of course he had to check out the FRONT yard. Luckily, Husband noticed he was gone and found him flirting with the neighbor on the right (dog/cat). She and Husband got to chatting, and Chewy disappeared again. Turns out, he’d sauntered his fuzzy ass right through her front door, wandered through her house to the back patio, and was making out with the cat.

I’m unclear on the cat’s feelings about the matter. Perhaps it should consult with Catsputin.

Update: This is my 300th post. I AM SPARTA!!!