And I thought, “Hey, I love coffee, let’s see what I am.” However, being as pedantic as I am, I had to see how many coffee quizzes were available (stop laughing, and yes, I really am this weird). So anyway, I Googled and took three different “What kind of coffee are you?” quizzes and guess what.. I’m three different kinds of coffee. lol

On this site, I’m an Irish Coffee.

At your best, you are: wild, spontaneous, and outgoing. (OK, very true.) At your worst, you are: too extreme and reckless. (Um, not sure about that, but OK.) You drink coffee when: you want to keep drinking booze. (Actually, I drink coffee all the time, but I love it with liquor.) Your caffeine addiction level: low (What, are you kidding me? Coffee runs in my veins.. I bleed caffeine people.)

On this site, I’m a cappuccino (which, btw, they can’t spell… sigh).

You’re in perfect balance. Not too bitter and not too sweet… you’re delicious and a treat for all. (I know many who would disagree, but lol). Floating like the foam on top, you rock with good vibrations all over. (So, yeah, this test was created by a juvenile male… lol.)

On this site, I’m a double espresso.

Hey Energizer Bunny Girl! Do you ever slow down? (Nope!) You’re a mix of high energy and ambition, perfectly matched with strong espresso. (So very, very true.) When you want something you get it – by any means possible. (Well, not entirely.) You’re driven, determined, and no nonsense. Which is just how you like your java. (Exactly… now that’s what I’m talking about.)

Result? Well, I drink iced doppios, extra ice with a tiny splash of soy—when I’m having a bad day, I get a quad. Liquor? I drink vodka on the rocks, twist of lime. However, when it’s cold (or when I’m in Ireland), I will drink an Irish Coffee… every. single. day.

Conclusion? Taking weird online quizzes at two in the morning provides nothing but a less-than-entertaining post on your blog. So sorry people… 🙂

I love the weekend.. truly, I do. You can sleep in and stay out.. as late as you want.

After sleeping in, I started packing—and stressing about the apartment v. the cottage. *sigh* I’m definitely going with the cottage—and to all of you who commented, I appreciate it. And you’re right—you can’t say no to a dream house.

However, now I’m stressing because I won’t hear from the owner until Monday or Tuesday… AHHHHH!

But back to why I love the weekend.. Jen (owner of Papi the chihuahua) and I went down to our favorite restaurant and had a wonderful dinner and several martinis (and an Irish coffee)…

And I’ve just heard from J the guest, who is having a great time fishing, snorkeling and scuba diving—and eating lobster. Lobster, I said? You caught lobster…? Obviously, the answer to that is no; it’s a freshwater lake. But whatever. He took pictures and is itching to get to an Internet connection…

Weekends are good times people, good times.

He just called to say “Let me call this guy who owns the ‘dream house.’ I can talk to him.” What a doll!

Even though I turned that down, I truly appreciate the gesture. Have a good time fishing this weekend J.. don’t drown. 🙂

Hopefully he will have some good pics and stories to share when he gets back!

…Is having to make the big decisions.

I just heard from the smaller, less expensive place and they are OK with the washer and dryer now. This is also the place that I can move into now. ARGH.

I won’t hear from the more expensive dream place until Monday or Tuesday… and I won’t be able to move in until August.

This is seriously annoying.

Just wanted to share.. 😉

Alright, so I am now going to pose a question to everyone. I have looked at many places, most scary and expensive. I have talked with realtors, I have looked far outside of where I want to be, I have done it all. I am waiting to see about one place that doesn’t want me to keep my washer and dryer (portable), and that is on the second floor of a three story, owner-occupied.

BUT, today I found my dream place. It’s a cottage in the woods (seriously, not kidding), very near the water. The woods—like back home in Washington. It’s pretty big—1 bedroom, a huge living room that goes into a kitchen, big bathroom, clawfoot tub… and a big deck with an outdoor fire pit. Off-street parking and a yard here, people. So I love this place. A lot. The porch also has two sliding glass doors, one into the bedroom and one into the living room, so security might be an issue. But then again, we live in a really small town with very few problems.

But it’s $150 more than the other (which I haven’t heard back from re: the washer and dryer), and it won’t be ready (new carpets, etc…. so nice) until August 1st. In addition, they are waiting to see about a couple that wants to come see it (on Saturday) and then they (the owners) will make their decision. They said I’m on the top of the list (being single and with a good, stable job), and I will find out by Monday or Tuesday of next week.

What would you do? Seriously.

Then I read what was going on in London in the first RSS feed I read this morning… plasticbag.org.

A Flickr pool has been set up here.

And the Londonist blog has good coverage, as does the Guardian’s blog, although both are experiencing heavy traffic and might be slow.

Our thoughts and prayers to everyone in England.

What’s the difference between the worst of days and the best of days?

My morning started off with an argument with my wife. We’re getting divorced so this isn’t anything new on the scene. I’ll spare you the details but in short she’s pissed at me and yes it is my fault.

I went to work. Things aren’t working. Broken things on websites with many customers. But hey, before I knew it, lunch was here. Lunch is my favorite part of the day, except for dinner or snacktime or — I can’t choose. (You get the idea)

I did lunch with my dad today. He wanted to do lunch with me to explain why I’m screwing my life up and why people should never ever get divorced. Apparently I need to be fixed. (I think he meant in the head but your guess is as good as mine).

I get back to the office.

More broken stuff and meetings. I remember that I have to call my mortgage company (I just sold a house) to figure out how to get my prepayment penalty waived. I’ll again spare you the details but I do not like it when my closing is 20 days late because my mortgage company (on a daily basis) fails to send my payoff statement. Then they charge me an additional 20 days of interest and stick me with a “prepayment” penalty because it’s a terrible thing to repay a loan.

I went to visit one of my rental properties. I convinced the previous tenant to move out after she decided to use the entire unit as a toilet for her and her cats. I found out today that removing the carpeting was a very good decision because it had maggots and fleas (and cat urine). She managed to take most of the drugs with her but left enough defiled crap to fill an entire 30 foot dumpster (rolloff) with no room to spare.

Now I’m sitting alone at home and I finally have time to really reflect.

Why does today seem like it was actually really great?

a) I learned that my cat can polish off an entire turkey sandwich while I’m not looking
b) I ate six times today
c) Ham was nominated as its own food group
d) The insider told me I’m going to receive a whole cow (and I just got my grill working)
e) Other

So here’s something fun. I’ve been posting about my recent soon-to-be-homeless status, i.e., my landlord sold the house to his daughter and now she wants to give my apartment to her nephew. Fortunately, J found a realtor, convinced them I was fabulous and found me a place to live (love him).

Still with me? If not, read this.

Anyway, the real estate people did the credit and background check today—called my work and called my landlord. Here’s where this gets fun.

Apparently, the landlord’s daughter (the new landlord who is evicting me) hasn’t told her dad (the old landlord who LOVED me) that she asked me to move out. So he gets the call and is like, “She’s moving? Why?” Then he proceeds to tell them to call his daughter because she is the new landlord.

(BTW, I’m hearing about this from the landlord’s daughter, at 9 PM when I got home from work.)

So then he calls his daughter to ask “WTF?” (I’m only guessing…) And guess what.. she flat out lied to him. Told him I wanted to move closer to work and blah, blah, blah. Now I’m thinking “WTF?!”

THEN she says, “Oh, and he asked Zack [her son] and Zack lied too. He told him that since he [her dad] wasn’t the landlord anymore you didn’t want to be here… or something like that.”

People, I do not lie—she’s actually telling me all this, proud that her son lied to his grandfather, blah, blah, blah.

Now I’m freaking a little… what do the real estate people think of me? Do they think I didn’t tell my landlord I was moving out? Did my landlord get mad when they called him? Is his daughter insane or something?

Argh MF. (BTW, I try not to cuss too much—or not to use the f-word—in deference to my parents, who might one day stumble across this—yeah right but whatever—and know it’s me and yell at me for swearing.)

OK, anyway, here’s the kicker. My landlord’s daughter? The new landlord? Who asked me to move out and who lied to her dad?

She’s freaking 45 years old! What, do people never grow up?!

No, really, it is. It’s slow today… monstrously, disasterously slow. Babies crawl faster, snails creep quicker. I’m going to kill my laptop—toss it out the window and let it shatter and see if that freakin’ helps.

OK, I feel better now.

But since this is probably not the best thing, does anyone have any suggestions here? It’s a Mac, Powerbook G4… and apparently it hates me today.

So joy! I found the cord. It only took about an hour of searching through three boxes and two suitcases to find it. 😛 Of course, then I had to upload the pics from my camera (there were 292.. I’m trigger happy) and then choose the winners.

—The fireworks are from last night; the parade was earlier this morning.

So this is Papi, my friend Jen’s 4-month-old teacup chihuahua. We friggin’ love this dog. He comes to visit me on weekends occasionally… and whenever his momma needs some male lovin’.. ahem. (Her one “friend” was annoyed by Papi’s constant need to be in the same bed with them. LOL)

What we didn’t know about Papi? He attracts the men in uniform like crazy!

This one was Jen’s personal favorite… he willingly put his hat back on so we could take his pic.

This is why I enjoy these events..

Of course, I spent half the morning looking for this… stupid open container laws. These parades should be like a baseball game, a) they have vendors walking to you to sell you food and b) they serve liquor in open containers!

This was a really interesting float… Iwo Jima and 911.

Um, Santa showed up..

And the “Mummas,” a string band that dressed up!

For the guest… it was like you were there! 😉

Fireworks from last night…

We had a great time… lots of uniformed men to check out and an entire stand of cotton candy just for me. 🙂