75 degrees and shweaty

At 11 PM last night our furnace stopped working. I was up during Ellis’ “Screamfest March 2011” performance and noticed how cold it was in his room. Neither Mr. Swirley nor I could figure out what was going on, so we put a space heater in the baby’s room and prayed it wouldn’t burst into flames (I have a fear that all space heaters will start on fire at some point or another. Other fears include vampires, pit toilets and vampires in pit toilets – no lie.) Ellis survived the night and the heat clicked back on at 6 AM. My BFF’s over at Fabian & Son showed up at 10 AM to take a gander. Something was wrong with the fluxcapacitor and the shimmy shimmy ya knob, or whatever. They jacked the heat up to 75 until I could smell myself, and then said it was ready to go. Only $105 later and it’s fixed, can you believe it? In Chicago. I was expecting to hand over Ellis or my deed. Or both.

What else? Oh, KJY departed yesterday. Sad face. She had a good run here in Chicago and Ellis was sad to see her go (see above Screamfest). Here they are at the park.

Did you ever flip around horizontal bars on the playground? You know what I am talking about. You put one leg over the bar and flip around to return to the starting position. We ballers used to do that all the time at Randall Elementary. Then I tried it on a bike rack at Vilas Beach. Funny thing about bike racks are that you can’t fit your shoulders through the bars (unless you are narrow like AJBurke) so you end up upside down with your head stuck between two bars. Yikes.

Aside from public park gymnastic meets, we pretty much spent the entire week harassing Ellis (aka Roy) and watching crappy movies.

Hell bent on exacting revenge, EK decided it was time for his top two teeth to pop out. It’s really really fun and conducive to a full night’s sleep.

Ho-Ho has been playing it cool lately. We are down to about five calls a day and most are fairly benign. I can’t say same for Mrs. S., who received an article (with no note) about drains and a voicemail about the hazard of heated seats. The latter is a huge concern given the fact that Mrs. S. lives in Chandler, AZ and clearly has her heated seats turned on full-force 365 days a year.

Last night I added some of KJY’s music to Itunes. After sorting and such, I came to the conclusion that I have way too much music that I don’t like or won’t listen to (they are obviously not mutually exclusive of one another). Of the 13,136 songs on file, here are some examples of some shiteous decisions:
– Badly Drawn Boy – 58 songs. I can’t name, let alone hum, one of their songs.
– Beck – 87 songs. Don’t get me wrong, I like Beck. Just not 87 songs worth.
– Bright Eyes. I refuse to even count the number of songs because I hate him so much. I don’t even know why I still have him in Itunes.
–  Jamiroquai – 56 songs. What? I mean, seriously, what?
–  Kid Koala – 35 songs. I can’t say anything about Kid Koala because I have no idea who he/she/they are. What does this say about me? That I am a music hoarder. Yes, yes I think it does.
– Manic Street Preachers – 34 songs. See Kid Koala. (Update: Listening to band now and can confirm that I hate them.)

I will stop there because I am sure you get the idea. What an embarrassment.

Wise words? Bring it.