Raton Muerto
I managed to escape today without any traumas occuring. This after a hellish night's sleep (if you could call it that) last night. I spent about 20 min. and probably $20 in a text messaging conversation with Jason Vegas. Of course his last name is like Smith or something but I call him Jason Vegas because I met him in Vegas and he's in my phone as Jason Vegas and if you make it into my phone with an alias, you will forever be that to me. I.E. April Hairdresser, Bad Brad Hickson, Carly Beers, Corina Ho (the infamous Dallas-prostitute incident), Crazy Person!?, Joey NYC, Latasha Zilker, and...everyone's favorite Matt Fucking Krebsbach.
Yeah. So Jason Vegas lives in Tampa (thankfully) but for whatever reason ever since we hit it off at the blackjack table on Night 2 of our Las Vegas trip, we have kept in touch. When he came to Austin back in June on business, we all went downtown together. He's a nice guy. He was packing for a deep-sea fishing trip last night that he left for today. I started complaining asking deep questions like "Why is it that my cat who is supposedly nocturnal is sound asleep and I am wired?" This was the response I got--I quote:
"Because we continue to indulge ourselves with thoughts of things we cannot change. We worry of past mistakes instead of understanding they are gone and all...
...that is left is how we live tomorrow. We do not hunt for love...It finds us. Find yourself first...Then everything else is like a walk in the park."
His little pep talk helped. I think he is the only person as anal about me when it comes to spelling on text messages rather than just some cryptic slang thrown together.
Finally at about 1:30 AM or so I fell asleep, only to be awakened an hour later by drunken revelers getting in and out of their cars. I had my windows open, so I got distracted listening to this conversation (all being yelled out):
Male voice: ...you could!
Female voice: Yeah I guess I'll think about it then!
Male voice: ...I don't see why...not bad...do?
Female voice: WHEN I WANT TO FUCK YOU IN THE ASS I'LL LET YOU KNOW!
Male voice: OKAY THEN!
Car door slams and car starts up and drives away. Silence at last.
I'm not joking. Up until that point, I was kind of saying to myself Well, this is what I get for all those nights I've come roaring in and talking way too loud.
But I will say to anyone who asks, I have never had an argument surrounding anal sex in the parking lot. And--God willing!--never will.
Work was good today despite the lack of sleep. It was a beautiful day to be outside, and Alexandra and her mom came out and rode this morning and did pretty damn well. Her mom, who is amazingly 58 years old, rides really damn well for her age/level. Alexandra did a good job with her pony this morning, and actually seemed to enjoy herself. Then I spent the rest of the day trying to find the dead mouse that is hiding in my office. I can't remember if I've explained the mouse problem we've been having or not.
Okay, so at least once a year, one morning I will walk in and smell rat piss. There is really nothing else as foul-smelling as that (except for maybe a dead mouse). And then all of a sudden there are little mice turds scattered on every surface of the office. I don't know where the damn things get it in their heads that it's a good idea to occupy the one space in the whole countryside that they shouldn't.
So I went and got a trap from Matt, and set it under the desk, but failed to realize that you have to bait the trap (I'm not a big trap fan but desperate times...). I thought the little yellow holey piece was made to look like cheese so you didn't have to bait it. Needless to say, I didn't manage to catch a mouse, and in fact the next day I'm sitting there and this mouse shoots out from under the desk by my foot. I leap out of the office, screaming, and Chuy comes waddling down the barn to the rescue.
He, Gavino and Gerardo manage to move the entire desk (which has got to weigh like 200 pounds), and they're all saying "No...Raquel, no hay un raton..." TOTALLY don't believe me. Then all of a sudden the mouse darts from the desk into...the open supply closet. Damnit. So it disappears and the next morning I come in and open the closet and it is like 200 mice were having a fiesta overnight in there. It smelled so bad, there was crap everywhere, in other words, DISGUSTING.
I went out and bought all this poison that day and proceeded to put the little bags of poison all inside the desk and in the closet, hoping for the best.
The next morning...this was I guess Thursday morning of this week, I go into the office and Chuy comes hustling in. "Raquel," he says (I'm going to translate for you here), "The mouse is in your trunk." Kelly and I both have these trunks in our barn colors with our initials on them that we keep our stuff in sitting along the wall of our office. They are made out of wood and then have vinyl panels on all sides and cost about $900 each. So I'm like "WHAT?!" Because unless the damn thing chewed through my trunk, there's no way it could get in there...unless...
I had been riding the day before and I keep my half chaps and my helmet in my trunk. While I was riding I had left the top open...so for whatever reason, one of the damn mice had managed to climb inside.
But at this point, I'm still doubtful because Chuy likes to psych me out all the time. I go "Okay okay let's see..." and he proceeds to open my trunk. I'm like "Where is the mouse?" kind of crouched down peering into my trunk. Well, in my trunk there is a little tray where I keep little stuff that is set at the very top. I have a sewing kit that is about 4"x2" sitting in there and it was kind of leaning at an angle set on top of something else.
Chuy goes to move the sewing kit and then all of a sudden the mouse comes FLYING OUT AT MY FACE. Like, total Chevy Chase Christmas stuff going on. I jumped from one end of the office to the other. So Chuy somehow killed the mouse and comes out victoriously carrying it by it's tail and deposits the carcass on the front lawn. Nice.
Things kind of died down for the last few days, I cleaned up all the little pieces of crap they had left everywhere, and today I walked in and almost fell over it smelled so bad. Good news: The poison worked. Bad news: There are dead mice in the office. Somewhere. And it stinks literally.
I digress.
The rest of the day I cleaned up, had the guys prune some of the front trees where this thicket had grown up all around them. It looked so awesome when they were done--the barn looks absolutely fantastic. Bay and I got some hay bales and set little gourds and pumpkins on them on either side of the front entrance in the flowerbeds. I'm really pleased with the direction the barn is going. It just looks awesome. I cannot wait til the winter rye comes up in our lawn areas and in our turnout fields.
C-Lo called this afternoon asking me if I was ever going to finish at work. He and everyone else were down outside Bob Bullock tailgating for the UT game and he wanted me to go down there. I had to decline...honestly I'm so over that whole football-tailgate-football player-scene.
I then got a call from Shirikins, who informed me that she had her first interaction with a celeb in LA last night. She and her new special friend went to this place called the Cat & the Fiddle and she spied a blonde, coked-out Ashlee Simpson making out with some guy. So what does Shiri do? She goes over and hands Ashlee her business card and tells her to come to the VIP opening. Hahahaha...there's balls for you.
Tonight is Bardines. We'll see how that goes down. It may end up just being more of a house-party in which case that's fine with me--I can just nurse my $20 handle of Flor de Cana rum that the guy at the liquor store talked me into purchasing. We'll see how it stands up to Bacardi.
Since I refuse to end an entry with the sentence "We'll see how it stands up to Bacardi," I'm going to place my new favorite quote here:
"A fact is a simple statement that everyone believes. It is innocent, unless found guilty. A hypothesis is a novel suggestion that no one wants to believe. It is guilty, until found effective." - Edward Teller
Yeah. So Jason Vegas lives in Tampa (thankfully) but for whatever reason ever since we hit it off at the blackjack table on Night 2 of our Las Vegas trip, we have kept in touch. When he came to Austin back in June on business, we all went downtown together. He's a nice guy. He was packing for a deep-sea fishing trip last night that he left for today. I started complaining asking deep questions like "Why is it that my cat who is supposedly nocturnal is sound asleep and I am wired?" This was the response I got--I quote:
"Because we continue to indulge ourselves with thoughts of things we cannot change. We worry of past mistakes instead of understanding they are gone and all...
...that is left is how we live tomorrow. We do not hunt for love...It finds us. Find yourself first...Then everything else is like a walk in the park."
His little pep talk helped. I think he is the only person as anal about me when it comes to spelling on text messages rather than just some cryptic slang thrown together.
Finally at about 1:30 AM or so I fell asleep, only to be awakened an hour later by drunken revelers getting in and out of their cars. I had my windows open, so I got distracted listening to this conversation (all being yelled out):
Male voice: ...you could!
Female voice: Yeah I guess I'll think about it then!
Male voice: ...I don't see why...not bad...do?
Female voice: WHEN I WANT TO FUCK YOU IN THE ASS I'LL LET YOU KNOW!
Male voice: OKAY THEN!
Car door slams and car starts up and drives away. Silence at last.
I'm not joking. Up until that point, I was kind of saying to myself Well, this is what I get for all those nights I've come roaring in and talking way too loud.
But I will say to anyone who asks, I have never had an argument surrounding anal sex in the parking lot. And--God willing!--never will.
Work was good today despite the lack of sleep. It was a beautiful day to be outside, and Alexandra and her mom came out and rode this morning and did pretty damn well. Her mom, who is amazingly 58 years old, rides really damn well for her age/level. Alexandra did a good job with her pony this morning, and actually seemed to enjoy herself. Then I spent the rest of the day trying to find the dead mouse that is hiding in my office. I can't remember if I've explained the mouse problem we've been having or not.
Okay, so at least once a year, one morning I will walk in and smell rat piss. There is really nothing else as foul-smelling as that (except for maybe a dead mouse). And then all of a sudden there are little mice turds scattered on every surface of the office. I don't know where the damn things get it in their heads that it's a good idea to occupy the one space in the whole countryside that they shouldn't.
So I went and got a trap from Matt, and set it under the desk, but failed to realize that you have to bait the trap (I'm not a big trap fan but desperate times...). I thought the little yellow holey piece was made to look like cheese so you didn't have to bait it. Needless to say, I didn't manage to catch a mouse, and in fact the next day I'm sitting there and this mouse shoots out from under the desk by my foot. I leap out of the office, screaming, and Chuy comes waddling down the barn to the rescue.
He, Gavino and Gerardo manage to move the entire desk (which has got to weigh like 200 pounds), and they're all saying "No...Raquel, no hay un raton..." TOTALLY don't believe me. Then all of a sudden the mouse darts from the desk into...the open supply closet. Damnit. So it disappears and the next morning I come in and open the closet and it is like 200 mice were having a fiesta overnight in there. It smelled so bad, there was crap everywhere, in other words, DISGUSTING.
I went out and bought all this poison that day and proceeded to put the little bags of poison all inside the desk and in the closet, hoping for the best.
The next morning...this was I guess Thursday morning of this week, I go into the office and Chuy comes hustling in. "Raquel," he says (I'm going to translate for you here), "The mouse is in your trunk." Kelly and I both have these trunks in our barn colors with our initials on them that we keep our stuff in sitting along the wall of our office. They are made out of wood and then have vinyl panels on all sides and cost about $900 each. So I'm like "WHAT?!" Because unless the damn thing chewed through my trunk, there's no way it could get in there...unless...
I had been riding the day before and I keep my half chaps and my helmet in my trunk. While I was riding I had left the top open...so for whatever reason, one of the damn mice had managed to climb inside.
But at this point, I'm still doubtful because Chuy likes to psych me out all the time. I go "Okay okay let's see..." and he proceeds to open my trunk. I'm like "Where is the mouse?" kind of crouched down peering into my trunk. Well, in my trunk there is a little tray where I keep little stuff that is set at the very top. I have a sewing kit that is about 4"x2" sitting in there and it was kind of leaning at an angle set on top of something else.
Chuy goes to move the sewing kit and then all of a sudden the mouse comes FLYING OUT AT MY FACE. Like, total Chevy Chase Christmas stuff going on. I jumped from one end of the office to the other. So Chuy somehow killed the mouse and comes out victoriously carrying it by it's tail and deposits the carcass on the front lawn. Nice.
Things kind of died down for the last few days, I cleaned up all the little pieces of crap they had left everywhere, and today I walked in and almost fell over it smelled so bad. Good news: The poison worked. Bad news: There are dead mice in the office. Somewhere. And it stinks literally.
I digress.
The rest of the day I cleaned up, had the guys prune some of the front trees where this thicket had grown up all around them. It looked so awesome when they were done--the barn looks absolutely fantastic. Bay and I got some hay bales and set little gourds and pumpkins on them on either side of the front entrance in the flowerbeds. I'm really pleased with the direction the barn is going. It just looks awesome. I cannot wait til the winter rye comes up in our lawn areas and in our turnout fields.
C-Lo called this afternoon asking me if I was ever going to finish at work. He and everyone else were down outside Bob Bullock tailgating for the UT game and he wanted me to go down there. I had to decline...honestly I'm so over that whole football-tailgate-football player-scene.
I then got a call from Shirikins, who informed me that she had her first interaction with a celeb in LA last night. She and her new special friend went to this place called the Cat & the Fiddle and she spied a blonde, coked-out Ashlee Simpson making out with some guy. So what does Shiri do? She goes over and hands Ashlee her business card and tells her to come to the VIP opening. Hahahaha...there's balls for you.
Tonight is Bardines. We'll see how that goes down. It may end up just being more of a house-party in which case that's fine with me--I can just nurse my $20 handle of Flor de Cana rum that the guy at the liquor store talked me into purchasing. We'll see how it stands up to Bacardi.
Since I refuse to end an entry with the sentence "We'll see how it stands up to Bacardi," I'm going to place my new favorite quote here:
"A fact is a simple statement that everyone believes. It is innocent, unless found guilty. A hypothesis is a novel suggestion that no one wants to believe. It is guilty, until found effective." - Edward Teller
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