Since the Blogchex entry is gone (along with Blogchex; boy, was that a fiasco), I find myself inclined to make another post about how I am The Great Anole Savior of Kaimuki for my grandmother.
Earlier this evening we had discussed the large gecko that inhabits her bedroom, pooping on her bed when no one is looking from the ceiling light fixture. I had attempted to catch it a few months ago, but it had run away with those freaky-fast legs. Yeah, moving geckos do freak me out a little bit. Mostly because once in 2nd grade I accidentally stepped on one & its eyeballs popped out of its sockets, & it was still alive & then I had to mercy kill it.
But I digress.
Just so you know, these tiny pictures are all thumbnails, so you can click on them to see what those little dots actually are.
Chie was getting spayed today, which meant an overnight stay at Kalihi Pet Clinic. I came home full of guilt & worry about Chie, who absolutely freaked when she realized I wasn’t going to stay & get spayed too, to find Jack all weepy & distraught at Chie’s absence.
I’d had 3 hours of sleep (drop off was fricking 8:30am), & during the morning traffic Chie had gotten carsick & puked on me, & all over the car. I figured after I washed my dog vomit clothes & cleaned out my car, Jack & I could go do something fun, which he’s overdue for.
XKCD makes a true statement (click).
I actually looked at Macs yesterday. Bleh, I don’t like ATI.
Because people on the mainland can have these fucking awesome weddings for what it would cost us to just have the damn rehearsal dinner. In Hawaii it’s a given that you’re going to spend $80-$180 per head for stupid tourist traffic, shitty (or no) parking, mediocre food & a 2-4 hour time slot in some cocoa butter-smelling hotel where everyone else’s older sister got married, unless you’re going to do the cheap thing & go to Vegas, where the air smells like gunpowder & you have to apply moisturizer every few hours or you’ll crack, & if you’re like me you have nosebleeds for a month after you get back home.
1. I immediately dislike strangers (If I already know you, you’re exempt. What can I say; it’s the truth.) who use “ur” instead of “your.” And for that matter “your” instead of “you’re.” But I’m not an elitist. They’re just stupid.