Ludo. Down.

It just hit me that I haven't even announced my newest best friend to the world yet. And he has been my best friend for almost two months now. Terrible.

I think I was waiting until he stopped pooping on the floor so I could really say he is the world's most perfect freak-alien-dog. But seeing as that hasn't happened yet, he will instead be the world's most perfect freak-alien-dog who poops on the carpet like a very naughty freak-alien. And yaps, nay, squawks, every time I leave the room. And never can figure out how to put his tongue all the way in his mouth. And has defied the laws of nature by somehow finding a way to have a stinkier beard than Tucker.




Although they had a rocky start and still get their feelings hurt sometimes, they are almost best friends. But since neither of them have their manhood and dogs are technically man's best friend... Poor dogs. Only half-men. Ludo still has his stitches in from that awful day. And probably nightmares. And he has to wear this:



It's all very disheartening for the poor pup.

But he is still my favorite and licks my face and growls like a cat purring and only falls off the bed sometimes.






Oohhhhh little lulu!! I love you, you little freak.

Kristina

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Craigslist shmaigslist

Know how Kyle sold his movies and put the money in the Mom-iPad-fund like the sweetest sweet tart in the land?

Well we decided in our brilliant minds that we would continue to grow the iPad fund by wisely investing in a bunch of iPhones from craigslist and then fancy them up with my hacker-loving-abilities and then sell them on eBay for hopefully a little more than we got them. Voilà. iPad for the sick mom.

Genius!

Except not genius at all.

Kyle found a 3Gs for $275 and we were so excited until we found out he was an hour away in El Cajon. Boo! But worth it. So Kryle haggled him down to $260 and made the drive. (Btw - why do we haggle for like ten dollars? Just for the thrill of it? Or because we like spending money if the amount was our idea instead of theirs? Or we just like to argue with people? Curious.)

Sweet, kind, loving, handsome Kyle then did a not so brilliant, genius, bright, smart thing and handed over the money to the kid even though the phone was in recovery mode. Meaning you have to plug it into iTunes to make it work.

And also meaning we didn't realize it was really a 3G not a 3Gs and we had been ripped off until after he got to Escondido and the kid had probably spent the cash already. Haha. Oops.

We tried to text/call him and say it was an honest mistake and let's just trade back again... No response. We email the link from craigslist... No response. Of course not. Little punk.

By this time (about two hours later) Kyle is truly dejected, and I'm feeling very sad for him. So I bust out my aforementioned hacker skills and find out info about this kid. It takes me a few hours and quite a bit of trickery and online searching, but I find the sneaky thief's first and last name, high school, brother's name, brother's place of employment, and FINALLY, in spite of every privacy precaution possible, his Facebook.

So I quickly change my profile picture from one of me and Kyle to one of just me, and add him as a friend, crossing my fingers that my cute-girl-ness wins over my random-stranger-ness. And it did. He added me within the hour.

He has creepy pictures holding guns and stuff, kind of terrifying. But we fb chatted him, started out nice, ended telling him we would call the police if he didn't meet us for a refund. He blocked me. Kyle left a terrifying legalese-filled voicemail on his phone. He got scared and promptly came back on and said sorry, he'd meet us the next day. I stupidly tried to be nice and say we could leave it jailbroken/unlocked it for him if he wanted. We thought all was well. See you tomorrow.

Kyle gets a message from shady thief's sister the next morning saying our jailbreaking it is illegal and voided the warranty so we aren't getting our money back.

Kyle's response: (skip this paragraph if you're easily bored)
"Either you or your sister or parents can call me back, but here's the deal. I'm entirely within my rights right now. Searching public records is not illegal, jailbreaking is not illegal and even if it was I just called apple and your warranty is expired anyway- and even if it was a factory restore- which we did- will erase any evidence of one, and calling and complaining about a breached contract is not illegal. We were looking around craigslist yesterday and found that you've had that phone up for a while. It was originally described as a 3G, but later you advertised it as a 3GS, which tells me that you knew exactly what it was. Now larceny is a crime involving the wrongful acquisition of the personal property of another person. Through fraud and misrepresentation you came in the wrongful possession of my $260- which is not protected by the risks generally associated with craigslist. I've never called the Nonemergency police line to report fraud, but like I said I'm a law student, and i'm not above doing it, and I'm curious to see how the process works. My offer still stands, I can be
at the Wal-Mart at 12, if you're there we'll consider it a miscommunication and no harm is done. If not, we'll take the legal route and the protections craigslist offers against scammers. Should I plan on being there or not?"

(oh, please. law school much?)

...no response.

Ugh. Are you over this story yet? Us, too. Kyle filed police reports today but that's it. The end. We got ripped off by a stupid kid and there isn't anything else we can do. Even though we know exactly who he is. And Kyle learned to not trust people on Craigslist, and check it before you pay. And D-Bag McGee learned at 16 years old that you can lie and steal from people and get away with it. And have your older sister enable you. FAIL.

Well guess what?

HIS NAME IS MARTIN BUT HE SELLS THINGS ONLINE UNDER THE NAME TONY. HIS PHONE NUMBER ON CRAIGSLIST IS (619) 249-9132. HE LIED TO US AND STOLE OUR MONEY.

There. Maybe the next time someone tries to google his name/number after he rips them off, they will have an easier time getting a hold of him. If you are one of those people, email me and I will give you the other info I have.

You're welcome, universe. I hate you, thief/Martin/Tony.

...anyone want an iPhone 3G? Yeah me neither.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:The hospital. Where else?

Breakfast?

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Crazy Old Man & An Angel Named Antonio

Hi, friends. Been a while, yeah? Yeah. I've been avoiding blogging on purpose because I doubt my frustrations would come out as cute as Kristina's last post. And I have no happy picture with a boy who loves and takes care of me to put at the bottom. Therefore, I've spared you. You're welcome.

I do have a couple stories, though. Want to hear them..? Ok. But only because you asked so nicely.

A couple days ago a lady BURST into my office with arms waving and SCREAMED, "I NEED SOMEONE TO COME OUTSIDE WITH ME RIGHT NOW! I NEED A WITNESS!"

I was in the back office and thought to myself,"...wtf?"

"There's a man EXPOSING HIMSELF out here and PEEING on the SIDEWALK!" she screamed.

I have to admit, I laughed. This is my life, people. Mom in the hospital dealing with everything that could go wrong under the sun, boyfriend of a year dumps me for greener pastures at BYU-I right in the middle of it, my dog has the worst gas in American and insists on sleeping with his otherwise cute and inoffensive rear end pointed directly at my face - and now I have to go deal with a random dude who felt like taking a whiz on the sidewalk.

As I walked outside and turned the corner I could see an older man with his pants undone, belt flopping in the breeze, doing a skip/hop/run away from the puddle he left on the ground (I guess the sound of the door startled him and he figured he could make his escape unnoticed by just running off with his pants down...?). I laughed again.

I assured the lady I'd get to the bottom of it, figured out who he was (thanks Margie at the Rec Center [<--where he tried to hide from me!]) and wrote the HOA a very concerned email. I guess this guy has peed several times like this in our VERY nice, private gated community in Rancho Bernardo. I can't believe there haven't been mobs of outraged housewives and their doctor/engineer/accountant businessmen husbands calling for blood over it. I mean...these people raise hell when a lightbulb goes out for crying out loud?? Whatever.

Second story. I'll make this one shorter, I promise. (I always get frustrated when I'm reading some gnarly long blog and there are no pictures. Believe me, I wish I had snapped a shot of the old guy running away for you - but, alas, I was ill prepared.)

I broke a drawer in the kitchen. I actually kind of ripped it to shreds, but I'm pretty sure I blacked out before it happened so the details are a bit hazy. I was upset (understatement) and when I shut the drawer politely the first time it bounced back open at me. After screaming at it for at least a straight minute (haha I swear I don't usually do that), I slammed it shut to show it who's boss. It had the GALL to bounce back open again. (Physics, you say??? YOU DIDN'T SEE THE LOOK IT WAS GIVING ME). So I slammed it again and again - this time I had no intention of shutting it, but punishing it - and when I regained my senses it was in several pieces in my hands. Then I cried for about an hour.

By the way, does anyone want to set me up with their brothers after reading this...? Thought so.

Anyways. I called Dad, bawling my eyes out (which luckily won me the sympathy card instead of a huge lecture). Fast forward to yesterday. I've been trying to fix it, but I'm absolutely unable. No glue was doing to undo the damage I did to that drawer. Especially since the only kind I readily have available to me at the house is a glue stick or glitter Elmer's glue. I even tried to petition my maintenance supervisor at work to fix it for me - BUT he's been out for a week with bronchitis and now walking pneumonia...so...boo.

I finally went to Home Depot, fully expecting to walk around for at least an hour trying to find someone to listen to my story and take pity on me. I wasn't above flirting at that point, people. That's how desperate the situation was. After walking around for 30 minutes asking every person I could find for help (even people who didn't work there but who looked like they might've murdered an innocent drawer or two in their lifetimes) I finally came upon Antonio.

Antonio took the drawer, went straight back to the lumber department, identified the wood, cut the wood, took out the screws from the shredded mess I handed him and put everything back together. In 15 minutes. And it cost me $2.00. And I almost started crying for joy. ANTONIO! You SAVED me!! This guy went out of his way to help someone when he really didn't have to. He could've just showed me where the wood was and left me there. BUT he didn't.

I tried to tell him how grateful I was, but he just looked at me like I was starting to freak him out. I wanted to tell him how stressed out I've been and how I don't have a boy in my life to ask for help anymore and how my mom's in the hospital and I broke the drawer because I was having a break down and how I'm going to pray for his health and success every night for the rest of my life because he was so nice to me when he didn't have to be. And now I'm sitting here crying again as I'm typing all of this because I feel so grateful that there are people out there who are willing to help.

So, that's all. Those are my two stories for today. Maybe I'll blog again and tell you about me chasing Ludo down the street with wearing pajamas that were absolutely unfit for public consumption, or my new love 26, or how we all almost died last night from gas inhalation. Sound good? Maybe if you're lucky I will.

And now I'm going to be late for work because I'm sitting on the couch in my pajamas blogging with my gassy dog (who is trying to cuddle me to death) instead of getting ready for work. Meh. I have five minutes. Ready? Go.

Things I hate

Cancer
Bugs
Scorpions
Sweating
Tumors
Hospital cleaner smell
The weird techno-music brooke listens to
Plastic hospital pillows
Nurses who roll their eyes
The elevator that's long enough for a gurney
The cafeteria guy who knows my name
Going through the ER entrance and seeing all of the sad people
Everyone in the hospital who doesn't have a visitor
That nurse who wouldn't let us take up the flowers
IV wires
Walking past the ICU to get to her room
All of the happy people going up to the maternity ward. I'm terrible.
The CNA's who wake her up in the middle of the night to take her vitals
The green button on the PCA
Dog poop on the carpet
Chemotherapy
Laundry
My dad's bird
Car insurance
Bill collectors
Books that have to ruin things by saying the F word
Immodest clothes
Kyle's Listerine toothpaste
Tucker's sad face when I leave
Mean nurses
Weeds
Nerve pain
That guy who killed Chelsea and Amber
That guy who shot the Bishop in Visalia
Bills
Cars with no air conditioning
When my favorite pants get a hole
Blood clots
Glasses
Broken plans
Not having my own place
Ludo's non-neutered-status
Paying for Gas


I'm actually having to think in between each of these. I thought I would be able to just spout off a million things and get it off of my chest and feel better.

Really, all I needed was the first one. That's it.

And the guy who killed Chelsea and Amber. I hate him.

...keep reading below for a not-so-negative-and-crabby post. Well actually I guess it is kind of negative. Keep browsing to your next blog for a not-so-negative-and-crabby post.

Kristina

Life sucks, Eat Dessert

Ha ha. That title makes me laugh a little bit. Life really does just plain suck sometimes. I don't think there are many things that EVERYONE in the world can agree on, but I think cancer is one of those things. We all hate it.

The good news is that I've been so busy/crazy/whirl-windy (Kyle loves when I add random y's onto words... not.) that I haven't really had time to feel sorry for myself. Lots of time to feel sorry for my sweet lovely mother, though. She is one strong lady. But don't tell her that, she might yell at you. Aunt Trudi can attest to that.

The other good news is that I am totally 100% crazy in love with my lover-man Kyle. He has seen me with the ugliest non-made-up face and non-brushed-non-washed-hair and even non-brushed-teeth (f'reals) and he still checks me out when he thinks I'm not looking. Seriously? This boy must be crazy. Or maybe he just likes me, too.

He takes my stinky, pooh-beard dog home and snuggles with him and washes him. He does my dishes while I sit at the counter and stare out the window because I'm just so dang tired. He picks me up from the hospital early in the morning when he is nervous about me driving after not sleeping all night. He tells me to throw away the sweat pants I'm wearing because I'm only a few steps away from walking through Wal-mart in those sweats and a wife beater with my muffin top hanging over the sides. Ha ha. Gross.

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me hard and says, STOP FUSSIN', when I start to get especially down in the dumps. And he tells me that I need to pay my tithing or I will just stay poor forever. He makes me his specialty dinners when I'm not feeling good (like Uncle Noodles and Grilled Cheese and TCTs) and reminds me that I need to eat so I don't get headaches. He throws away all of his R-rated movies and doesn't whine about it at all. In fact he sells them all and puts the money into an "iPad fund" for my sick mama. He laughs when I say I feel like a mummy and reminds me that I probably mean zombie, but then starts saying mummy all the time anyway because he thinks I'm so funny.  

He pulls all of the weeds and sprays all of the bugs at my mom's. Prunes the trees and rakes the ground. He drives the 40-minutes-one-way every single day to see me because I can't come down there when it's so crazy up here.

Oh, and he is a full-time law student. Woops.

Tell the truth - how awesome is he and how totally UNawesome am I in this post? Oh man. I don't know why on earth he is still around but I'm sure glad. I would be a major mummy if I didn't have him. I'd have a mummy-mental-breakdown.

Thanks, Heavenly Father for sending him to me. I needed it.

-Kristina