Slightly Darker Than Black

Archer, scourge of woodland creatures and teenage hipsters, breakfast drooler, the constantly underfoot canine of mine, caught and killed, wait no correction, caught and SLAUGHTERED a rabbit.

Now, I understand that animals are hunters, that it's in their nature, their very core, to sniff out lowly creatures and kill them, I just didn't expect that it would be brought to my doorstep. Can you even imagine what it looks like to have a bunnies' cute floppy ears hanging out of your dogs mouth?

It gets worse.

 After wrestling with Archer for nearly an hour trying to get him to release his precious trophy kill, I finally had to just give in and let nature take it's course. To clarify, I let him stay outside and finish the rabbit. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Wrong. Shortly after conceding to my dog, he pranced proudly onto the porch, empty mouthed, ready to rejoin the civilized company of processed treat lovers. He plopped down on the floor in front of the couch when he realized that no cuddle invite was coming his way. Then came what I thought was the tell-tell sign of dog indigestion, a horrid smell. I tried to focus on the television, let my mind numb to the gently comedy, but out of the corner of my eye, something didn't look right. Juno, the mighty terrier, had a new, unfamiliar toy. My eyes widen, my mouth opened slowly in joint realization and disgust. Archer had vomited up a rabbit bone and blood fur ball of gross on the living room floor.

                                                           

This is what a rabbit bone and blood fur ball of gross looks like.

Detail of the rabbit fur ball.

This is what it looked like to me.

 I guess I won't be getting that pet bunny after all.

The Inbetween

Right before the holidays is a terrible time to start a blog. You're on a roll, thinking of your next rant, then bam, it's almost Thanksgiving. So much planning and preparation. Then the holiday arrives, you get stuffed and lazy. Now it's time for recuperation. The extended vacation days, adventures and things that amaze, and before you know it, it's been weeks since you updated. Not that updating is the important thing about a blog. For me, it's about having a place to get down my thoughts, clear my cluttered brain.

I sit here thinking about all that's happened between this post and the last, and I can't help getting a little dizzy. It makes me chuckle thinking about all the times I've thought my life and self to be boring.

Instead of doing a proper recap, or discussing something of substance, I'm going to complain about the mundane. I want "Eye Of The Tiger" as my ring tone. Apple's ring tone shop has it, but it doesn't have lyrics. Just music. Get on it Apple. "Eye Of The Tiger" has no clout with the vocal energy drink known as Dave Bickler.

No Time For Love Dr. Jones

I had no idea funeral processions didn't have to stop at red lights. Not that I'm complaining, just commenting that I wasn't aware. Funeral processions are a lot like trains when you're in a hurry.

I've resisted wearing a watch for most of my life. I enjoy getting lost in the day, not being rigid about time. I try and be on time when I do have a specific appointment or schedule, but most of the time, I like being in the dark. I think it would have been fun to measure the day by the sunrise and sunset. However, like most, I'm a slave to time.

This whole house ordeal has me all in a stress, nervous frenzy. Today we had plans to meet with the Realtor to sign a contract for an offer on the house. Josh was at work, so we scheduled it during his lunch break. I spent all morning looking at the clock, trying to be extra aware of time. Every time I looked at the neon glowing numerals on the clock, my stomach would tense up a bit more. I have no idea why I'm so nervous. Plenty of people purchase homes!

At first, I had plenty of time. I tried to kill some on the internet, visiting Facebook for the the first time in weeks. Reading blogs, "screen" shopping, playing with the dogs, time just inched on by. Then, it shifted. Suddenly I didn't have enough time! I needed to shower, pick up dog toys that were scattered around the house, fold blankets, and go pick up Josh. Back at the house, with a few minutes to spare, time slowed again. The Realtor was late. I couldn't let the dogs out because Juno loves pulling out each one of her toys like the greedy little terrier she is. So, we sat and waited, once again staring at the clock.

Realtor came, we signed our signature about 40 times, then we were out of time again! Josh was late, had to drive him back to work, then it was time for me to get ready for work. I came home, jumped on the computer again and there it was, a request from Jecka to make her a clock. How funny you are universe.

Operation Sherman Lodge

Holy cow, I'm buying a house. Well, not quite. Only sort of. Wishful thinking? I'm not sure. Let's start over. Hello, I'm April, and I don't know what the hell I'm doing! I may or may not be in panic mode at the moment. Try again later. Deep breath, annnnnd go.

Basically, it started with a phone call. I have bad credit. Not just bad, more like the monster under your bed, bad. I could supply a list of well thought out excuses, life pondering and what ifs, but the fact would remain that I have bad credit. I pretty much accepted that I'd be renting for the rest of my life. "Plenty of people are life long renters!" was my brave face cheer. I did take steps to improve my credit. Well, steps that I thought would improve my credit. My little arty brain read a few financial advice books, absorbed bits and pieces, bits and bobs, and came up with a slow and steady plan to try and repair my teenage destruction to my credit. I made lists, telephone calls, budgets, payment plans galore! I still struggle with money management, but I wiggled my way through and things started to look up a bit. I applied for a credit card...accepted. I applied for a car loan...accepted. Love my new car by the way.

Then, after a night of cheesy television, I looked over at Josh and said, "I wonder how close we are to being approved for a mortgage?" Now, back to that phone call. When I said phone call, did I mention it was A LOT of phone calls? See if you can follow: Over a year ago, a co-worker gave me a number of a mortgage broker. I never bothered calling, because I don't really enjoy rejection. I saved the number in my phone, just in case. Problem was, I couldn't remember the name of my co-worker. Now don't judge! We never actually worked together, we just worked for the same company. Here's where it gets tricky. I called my friend Adam, no answer. I called Matt, another old co-worker, and nephew of the co-worker in question, no answer. I called Jody, my old boss. Victory! She gave me his name, and the contact info for her mortgage broker, who she worked with early in the year to purchase a condo! I called the guy I had in mind first. Turns out, he's no longer working with mortgages, but he suggested his old co-worker. So, I called her, no answer. Then I called Jody's recommendation. Success! He answered, took all of my information, and wah-la! Pre-approval for a home mortgage. Of course he needed documents, etc., but wow.

From here, the roller coaster, snowball, and the giant boulder from Indiana Jones joined forces and just took off, Speed Racer style. We just started looking at houses online for fun. Turns out, there are a lot of affordable houses for sale. Then we started narrowing them down to our top ten. We called one of the agents attached to a house listing, and she was pretty awesome. Enthusiastic, down to earth, easy going, and funny! She didn't require any kind of commitment from us, so we decided to just have her be our agent. Hehe, we have an agent. We spent two days looking at those ten houses, and narrowed it down to our top four. After looking at those four, two things became apparent; one, photos do not do houses justice, and two, one house blew the others out of the water.

So, here we are, getting ready to put in an offer on the house tomorrow. It's only been two weeks. You'd think we were in a house buying marathon. I know it seems sudden, rash, hasty, impulsive, but when you've spent thirteen years dreaming of one day owning a home, collecting clippings from home magazines, discussing your big plans for your dream house, you're prepared to walk into a house and just know, this is the one.

So, to all of you dreamers out there, be cautious! Sometimes dreams take flight!