Electric Scissors

What kind of lazy ass purchases electric scissors? Tha'd be me. I have been making so many headbands lately that my right arm is going to fall off from the use of scissors. My mom actually suggested the electric scissors and I didn't know such thing existed. It does and they are amazing. They cut through leather like a hot knife through butter. I feel like its sped up my leather cutting quite a bit. Toby is terrified of them, because they make a noise. (as he is afraid of most anything) so his new nap room is the extra room. He prefers the extra room more than being with me I think. If you get a dog for company and he prefers to be in the extra room due to your constant use of electric scissors......its time to get outside and take him on a walk. One day I might get around to it.

Tattoo

Just thought I would write down a weird little something inspired by my dad. At 18 I got a tattoo. At 18 my dad saw my tattoo and freaked out. He has never liked the whole idea of it.......ever.
Skip forward ten years. I have one adorable dog, and he is almost as weird as my dad. One day a few months after I got Toby I had to take him into the vet so I took him to work with me. The next day my dad was almost put out that I didn't bring the dog. So ever since Toby goes to work with me. He owns that shop and its where he goes to play and get tattoos.
Get tattoos you ask? Yes, every few days my strange father gets his sharpie and writes things on the underside of Toby's ears. At first I tried to strongly discourage this practice because I hate it. That always seems to ad fuel to the fire. He has had some interesting tattoos.....when the Olympics were on his ears said Team USA. I really had to draw the line when my dad was watching some Holocaust show on the History Channel and he drew a swastica in there. It was kindof embarassing to try and explain to the UPS guy why my dog is racist.
I have no idea why I made a post about this, but there it is....good memories.

"Yard" work.

I have been doing what I like to call Yard Work. I live in a townhouse so the word yard is a huge stretch. I planted 40 bulbs on Sunday and got one wicked sunburn on the back of one arm. It looks pretty amazing and I cant believe this look hasn't caught on yet.
I planted them in the one Sun spot in my back yard, and all along the front of my place for all the neighbors to enjoy. Today I went to Walmart and bought a bunch of flowers to put in the flower pots I bought last year. (Due to budgetary restrictions I do things like this in years. One year buy the pots, next year, take them out of the garage and put flowers in them. I am actually really excited to have pots by the front door I never use.

Then I moved on to the back yard. While at Walmart I bought my first shovel. Not one of those cute trowel type shovels, but a real shovel. Im becoming so domesticated. So I wanted to plant some shade bulbs and I have discovered one thing about my yard. Im pretty sure they got my flower bed soil at the rock quarry. You wouldnt believe the rocks I was pulling out. They were the size of Toby. Made for hard soil and my back is killing. I will be taking free back massages from anyone who is good at them, and not creepy.

I dont know what my deal is but,

I am CONSTANTLY misplacing things, mostly my keys. You would think I would learn my lesson and get a janitor key chain and hook it to my belt but I just cant do that. So I just went and hung with Erin and went to our friend Ann's party. We had lots of fun and she went to drop me off, and I searched through my bag and panicked - no keys. This is a normal 50x a day occurrence so I searched all the usual pockets and nooks and cranny's in my purse and no keys. So I spilled the contents of the messiest purse in America, and still no keys. I decided they must have fallen out at Ann's house. I called her and she didn't see them. Now at 1 in the morning the owners of my spare key (the parents) are way in bed and my mom is running the marathon in the morning. I was super panicking. I checked the floor of the car and still no keys. Then I thought maybe they were in my pocket and fell out, so I opened the car door and got out and I had been sitting on them. Crisis averted!
I do this with most everything but the other major culprit is the remote to the TV. I got a new TV this time last year so my DVR remote wont work on the TV so I have to keep track of two remotes. Can I get up, walk across the room, and change the channel, or turn it off or on? Not a chance. I would rather spend 20 mintues looking through blankets to find the two remotes.

But Kira, where will you get clean clothes?

Today I broke down and did the unthinkable....I put the giant stack of clean clothes sitting in the basket in my laundry room away. I know what you are thinking, if you put your clothes away, when you go to get dressed in the morning and how will you find anything? This is the very question I posed to myself. I had an ingenious solution to this problem. I put a sign in my laundry room that says: "Go to your closet you slob". Its not that I'm a slob, its that I HATE putting laundry away. Its all clean but its on the laundry room floor getting wrinkled by the minute. If I just took the two seconds its takes to hang clothing up, I wouldn't have use for my morning squirt bottle session. Lazy laundry-putter-away-ers all know what I'm talking about. Who needs an iron when you have 10 minutes and a squirt bottle. I actually have a ceiling fan in my room that speeds this process up quite a bit.

The other day my sister-in-law Whitney said "You have tons of clothes!" I heard this but wondered why I feel like I wear the same 6 things over and over and I realized my closet is full..... The problem with this is, its full of "goal" clothes. I have a whole wardrobe of them, ranging in about 5 different sizes. If I got that whole weight thing under control, I could give away most of the non-goal clothes and be one happy camper.

If you need me I will be in my laundry room marveling at the floor, which I havent seen since Heather moved out.

April Fools

I woke up to the sound of Toby throwing up in my bedding. What a sweetie. The only problem that was, the throw up was no joke. It was red, stinky and stained my sheets. He is officially grounded.