The Cliffs of Insanity

Finally passed out a little after 6 AM. Probably would have slept longer, but the phone woke me up.

Not planning on doing anything today, except for reading a friend's childrens book she has written and is working on editing now. I may try to write myself, but it might not be worth it with my brain in its current condition. I'm not really sure it would be worth it, except for it being therapeutic, and even that isn't a certain thing.

I do have a couple of phone calls I have to make. Maybe its best that I get those out of the way right now, while I have it on my mind. One of the places is the tax office. My car taxes come due the first week of May. I need to find out if I'm supposed to go ahead and pay on the ION when I know I'll be paying taxes on whatever "new" car I'll be getting, hopefully this week.

My rental runs out on the 26th, so I really need to get that settlement check before then. Enterprise is going to be charging me for mileage and fuel, plus I'm going to be without any transportation whatsoever if I don't have a car by then. So yeah, I need to get my shit together and get this show on the road. Diane and Bobby are gonna be helping me find a decent car. Really, the only thing I need is something that will get me to Asheville and, specifically Craggy Gardens and back, without breaking down...and a working stereo. Because I am literally incapable of driving without music. Oddly enough, I tend to fall asleep in the car, and its music that pretty much keeps me awake and alert.

Of course, I'm repeating myself on some of this, because I'm an absentminded old fool. Such is life.

I'd had my old phone for a little over three years. It wouldn't hold a charge but for a few hours and it was kaput at work, having no discernible signal except outside. This wouldn't work since Aunt Tudi couldn't reach me in case of an emergency. So off Aunt Tudi and I went to our nearest Verizon store yesterday afternoon. Turns out that, if I signed up for a two-year contract, I could get me a phone for cheap and Aunt Tudi a phone for free. Since I've been with Verizon since it was still Bell Atlantic Nynex Mobile, I had no problem signing a two year contract. I picked me out an unassuming little Samsung Gleam phone and Aunt Tudi got a variant version of my unassuming phone, a Samsung SCH-u410. Both of them came with Bluetooth technology and a wee ear piece. I set both phones up yesterday and am now wearing that wee ear piece. It blows me away that I can speak in a normal tone of voice and the person on the other end of the line can hear me like I'm in the room with them. The ear piece is so far away from my mouth, I just don't understand how it works. I'm getting old. Technology is leaving me behind.

Also yesterday, I got a call from Gwen, my first Dirty Dogs Done Dirt Cheap customer. Since it's been about six months since I groomed him, I figured she wasn't happy with my work and decided not to use my services again. Nope. She'd just lost the certificate I'd given her that had my phone number on it. We made arrangements for me to pick up Fat Boy Boo boo, her wire-hair Parson Russell Terrier today. I got him around 11:30 and brought him back to the house. Before I started his grooming, I let him roam about in the front yard to pee and poo, in the event he needed to. He only needed to pee. Shmoop was curious about the newbie in the yard and walked up to him with her tail in the air, jabbering at him in her idiot savant felinese. He stretched his neck out to touch noses with her, his tail wagging all the while. Once they touched noses, Shmoop arched her back and gave Fat Boy Boo Boo the hairy eyeball, as though to say "You're not one of my dogs. I think I shall intimidate you and see what happens." What happened was that Boo Boo turned into the canine version of Private Hudson from Aliens: What are we gonna do now, man? Game over, man, game over! He ran up to me and begged to be picked up, which I did, taking him into the house and putting him on the grooming table (thanks again, falkenna. You're a peach).

I didn't have to do much with Fat Boy Boo Boo. Gwen didn't want him shaved down like she did last time. She just wanted him shaped up and trimmed, the obligatory sanitary clip, aka getting your butt shaved, and she wanted him bathed. I worked on him with focused speed, using the clippers to even out his coat, but taking only about a quarter of an inch off the length of his fur. I did the sanitary clip, then shaped the hair around his hoo-ha. It was very attractive, if I say so myself. I trimmed the fur around his feet, shaping them into dandy little ovals, then shaved the hair between his toes and around his pads. After doing that, I could see his toenails well enough to safely clip them. I cut them all without quicking him once. I shouldn't toot my own horn, though. He has white nails, so the blood supply is easy to see. After clipping, shaving, and brushing him, we headed off to the bathtub. I shampoo'd the little bugger until he was literally squeaky clean, then towel-dried him as much as I could. His hair, being wiry Terrier hair, was difficult to saturate with the water, but very easy to dry. He was 50% dry by the time I got him back to the grooming table. Whilst brushing him and shaping his cut, I dried him with our hair dryer, set on the coolest setting, which is actually quite cool. Room temperature air was being blown on him, so Fat Boy Boo boo seemed to enjoy this part of his grooming interlude. Every time I'd finish combing and shaping him up, the wee bastard would shake and his coat to puff out. So I gave up. You could tell he was nicely shaped and trimmed well, and that the bath had done him wonders. He was only a tad damp around the face and toes when I called Gwen to let her know that Boo Boo was ready. It was a little before 1:00. Not too bad for someone a little rusty in the grooming arena. We decided to meet at Lyman Pharmacy in 15-minutes time.

When I got to the pharmacy, Gwen was already there. She seemed delighted by Fat Boy Boo Boo's new hair do. Fat Boy Boo Boo seemed delighted to see his mama. When I placed him in the back seat of her car, he was wriggling and wagging so much, he felt like a dog quake. I told Gwen that, if she had any questions or complaints, to please not hesitate to call me. She said that she could tell there'd be no questions or complaints, she was very happy. And she said she'd be calling me when Fat boy Boo Boo was ready for another session. She gave me $20, which I promptly spent at Ingles, getting stuff we forgot to buy at the grocery yesterday (half & half, olives, mayonnaise, paper towels, etc).

All in all, it's been a very productive day. Perhaps this is a portent of how the coming week will be. A body can hope, neh?

**EDIT**
I wonder if Nino Rota's estate is getting any royalties off the ditty that plays when a call is coming in. I believe it's from The Clowns and it's the most recognizable circus song in the world.

My new phone is dicking around with my mental health. When I hold it, I want to flip it open violently and scream "KHAAAAAAAAN!"

Is there some way to overcome this short of wiping my mind clean of all Star Trek references?

This is the second Saturday in a row....

Last Saturday, I got a "restricted" call and answered out of curiosity. When I said 'hello', the noise came through on the other end (or other side) and it sounded like the transmission from the end of the movie "Prince of Darkness" combined with some special effects from any Nine Inch Nails song (pick any one of them).

After I hung up, I got another restricted call, answered and got the same noise.

Well, the caller tried 5 more times in the course of 15 minutes, but I wouldn't answer. Then the calling ceased.

Until today.

I got another restricted call today. I didn't even answer the phone. Instead, I just turned the bugger off.

Satan never returned my calls before, why should I waste my minutes on him now? Feh.