So the gist of this post is basically that my school hasn't recovered electricity after hurricane Ike leaving me nothing better to do than to post inappropriate details about myself onto the internet.
Well...that and to start packing for my move, which may or may not be happening in the near future. I've been trying to tie some random pictures together, but it's a stretch.
It turns out that Andre is a wrongly accused dog. Luc is the psycho dog with good hair, not Andre. Gan, the owner, okayed my use of the label psycho for Luc in exchange for clearing Andre's good name. (Not really. What he actually said was that letting me call his dog psycho was the least he could do.)
And although I still don't have a picture of Luc-the-psycho-dog (nor Andre the sane and friendly dog, for that matter), I do have a picture of my bipolar cat Sugar, reigning supreme over his mattress-dom: He looks quite svelte because the picture hides his bloob, which is what the kids call that flappy fat under his belly.
Why are the mattresses perched against the wall in the middle of the living room instead of happily hanging out in the kids' room being used as bedding? Water damage from Ike.
They had to take out the bedroom ceiling: If you happened to see the the shingles all over the courtyard, that used to be our roof. And as I understand it, you sort of need one of those to keep the water out of the bedrooms. Those two actually make it look sort of fun to be ceiling-less, don't they? But three people and two cats in a now-one bedroom apartment that smells like mildew actually gets old a little faster than you might think, necessitating some outdoor activities. Like tree climbing. See? I said it was a stretch.
Nevertheless, here's me in a tree:That look on my face is either "What the heck was I thinking?!?! I'm FORTY now! I shouldn't even be playing badminton, much less climbing trees to fish out the birdies!"
Or it could have been, "It's taking him FOREVER to snap that picture! Why the heck didn't I teach my boy to use Razor's camera like AGES ago?!?! I'm going to be stuck in this tree until I break my neck falling out!"
Better yet, why didn't I ever teach my boy to climb trees so HE could have retrieved the birdie? I guess that's what comes out of growing up in the city. Especially one where they do stuff like this to hapless trees: I have no idea what they were doing. But I was under the impression that Ike had actually done a pretty fair job with the tree trimming. No need to start pulling them down with a tractor!