KC and the Pinto of Doom

The downside to living in a small town is that there’s not always a lot of jobs available, especially in this economy. Consequently, I have to commute to work every day. It’s roughly 20 miles one way, which really isn’t too bad in the long run.

Unless I get stuck behind….*drums of doom*….the Pinto.

I hate the Pinto.

It’s a rusted, burnt orange color with wood-paneled sides. Yes, that’s right. Wood-freaking-paneling. The bumper is literally held together by duct tape. Orange duct tape,to be exact. And it is incapable of driving more than 45mph. I don’t think it could go faster if it tried. I happen to be a speed demon. Unless my tires are rotating at 65mph or more (70 is preferable) then I’m just not satisfied. I have the misfortune of living in a state that thinks 55mph is a sufficient highway speed. scream I tend to traverse the roads in a white-knuckled rage, chanting to myself, “Must. Go. Faster.” The car in front of me never senses my distress. The drivers continue along, blissfully unaware of my tormented soul screaming at them.

You can therefore see my dilemma when it comes to the Pinto of Doom. If I get to a point where there aren’t any passing lanes, I find myself wanted to stab something. Or someone. I usually just end up beating myself senseless against the steering wheel. The REAL bummer is when I get stuck behind the Pinto of Doom in the very last stretch of road, because I always take the back highway to my workplace. It’s a lovely drive, which is part of the reason I choose to take it, but it’s also a very winding road. A long and winding road. *queue nostalgic Beatles music here* Pinto

Unfortunately, Pinto of Doom works literally one block away from my workplace. If I can’t take advantage of the few passing lanes on Long and Winding Road, I’m stuck until my workplace. My crankypants are pulled up and drawn tight by that point, and there’s no taking ‘em off. People give me the strangest look when I see it drive through town and I begin screaming, “The Pinto! The PINTO!”

Fortunately, the cranky that builds up on my way to work is usually stripped away by my lovely co-workers, or sometimes even the doctors themselves. (Yesterday, the highlight of my day was provided by none other than Second-In-Command Doctor talking about his “shrinkage.” Yes, he actually used that word. And yes, I burst out laughing when he said it. Okay, so he was actually talking about his height. But he did mention something about cold water, which made me laugh even harder. Oh, the puns…dirty, dirty mind. It was only made worse when he looked at me quizzically and asked, “Why is that funny?”)

In the end, all I can do is warn you to beware. Beware….the Pinto.


Fortunately Not so Much?


Where the heck was this fortune when MegaMillions was at its highest? Dang. Day late and a dollar short, I guess. It’s amazing the things people will do for money. I honestly can’t imagine having that much dough to spend. You’d never be able to tell what people really thought about you, whether or not they were just hanging out with you in the hopes of free stuff, etc. I imagine it has the potential to be a very lonely existence.

In other news, I seem to be having some seriously poopy luck when it comes to getting this book cover done. I finally managed to get together with my photographer friend (shameless plug for Echo Photography Studios!) and we pieced together a good portion of it. She wasn’t able to load it into Dropbox because it was too big of a file so she burned it to a CD for me to take home. Low and behold, my computer randomly decided that it hates CDs and wants nothing to do with them, thus rendering me unable to open it. Blast.

Does it not realize that I neeeed to get my book published? It’s burning in my soul, piercing my brain, cramping my…well, you get the idea. I have had to rewrite a good portion of it thanks to some really good suggestions by Future Sister-in-Law. (That’s my brother’s girlfriend, who I am certain he is going to marry. She is amazingly talented, incredibly gorgeous, extremely smart and if I didn’t know she was so darn nice I would probably hate her.) She pointed out some really good things, which I’m grateful for, but sometimes it feels like the rewrites will never end. I don’t think it will ever be “perfect,” but will it ever just be good? I want to dig my eyeballs out with a spoon sometimes, I get so frustrated.

Which is usually about the time when Husband comes along, simply wanting to spend time with me.

Poor, innocent lad thinks that his sweet, wonderful wife who adores him is the one sitting at the laptop. Instead, he finds Kendra the Cruel, destroyer of all things cute and fluffy and high mistress of evil in general. A touch on the shoulder is all it takes to ignite…


*sigh* Apologies usually come later, once I’ve cooled my jets and have actually written something worthwhile. If I don’t manage to write anything worthwhile, the rage can continue for any undue amount of time. I try not to take it out on poor Husband. But he’s so….there.

Perhaps if we win the MegaMillions, I can hire someone to be the receiver of my wrath. I’ll tell them to just stand there while I yell at them for no reasons whatsoever. I think Husband will go for that.

Mixed Breeds


I love mixed breed dogs. Don’t get me wrong, I love many types of purebreds as well, but I’ll confess that even my two-sizes-too-small heart has a tiny pinprick of a soft spot when it comes to rescue animals. Both of my animals were rescues from our local Humane Society, and I wouldn’t trade them for any pedigree in the world. Ludo is my ever-lovable long-haired cat. He looks just like a Norwegian forest cat, but I doubt he’s actually that fancy. He was named for the character from that classic ‘80’s movie, Labyrinth. (David Bowie in tights. Thaaaaat’s right. I knew I could make you cringe remember.)

In the movie, Ludo is a huge, orange monster who isn’t very bright, but loves Sara all the same and counts her as his best friend after all of five minutes. He might be a big scaredy-pants, but he’s still loyal. My Ludo is a huge, orange cat who isn’t very bright, but loves me all the same and counts just about anyone as his best friend, provided they’re willing to scratch that hard-to-reach area on his chest for a few minutes. And yes, he’s a scaredy-pants, too. As soon as I saw him in that tiny cage at the Petco display, as one of the featured pets from the Humane Society, I knew that he was a Ludo and that he was mine.


He likes to think that if he just wishes himself to be smaller, it will come true and he can fit into anything. I’ve already mentioned that he isn’t the brightest.

Just for funsies, I tend to find myself wandering the vast corridors of the Internets when I’m really bored, and I happened to come across a site with different dog breeds, including hybrids. Now, I’d heard of some hybrids and thought the names were actually kind of cute. Labradoodles, chiweenies, flandoodles and the like. Sure, some people only have them for their names. Who wouldn’t want to say they have a cockapoo? My dirty mind can’t even begin to come up with just a single one-liner for that, it’s so hilarious. So I browsed through the seemingly infinite types of crossbreeds.

Then it started to get weird.

I started to wonder: who thought up something like the American bull dane? I’d never seen anything like it. I mean, what person honestly wanted a bulldog the size of a great dane? Just when I thought they couldn’t get any weirder, I found a Boston lab (Boston terrier/labrador mix). And a boxador. And a cheagle. (No, really! I only wish I were kidding.)

Now, before I start getting hate mail from the proud owners of these…erm, unique breeds, let me remind you again of my own mixed breed rescue. Only mine’s actually cute. *ducks and runs*

Yes, I happen to be the proud owner of a borador (border collie/labrador) named Samus. And yes, she is named after Samus from Metroid. I am a geek and proud of it.


See? See how adorable she is? How do you not love that face? I sometimes sit there and think, “Who the heck got rid of you?” I mean, bonus for me, but bummer for whoever had to give her up.

I know when it comes to dogs, breeds don’t always mean anything. I’ve met golden labs meaner than a rattlesnake and pit bulls as mellow and loving as ever. Giving them love is really all that counts in the long run.

Now if only we could all apply the same mindset to people, the world might be a little better place.


Envy (Empty Coffin, #1)Envy by Gregg Olsen
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I originally thought I would be giving this book at least four stars, despite how wordy the author was. (I seriously don’t need to know every minor detail of every single character, so stop telling me the color of their toenails, etc.) I liked the intrigue of Hayley and Taylor. Their minor psychic ability was the reason this book got three stars. That twist was actually creepy, including the side story of when they were little. Actually gave me goosebumps.

The death of Katelyn? The one that was supposed to be the crux of the story and the main mystery? It was rather anti-climactic, to be honest. After discovering the real cause of her death, I found myself feeling disappointed. It seemed kind of lame to build everything up so well only to deliver a “blah” ending. Hence only three stars. The focus on Hayley and Taylor was really interesting, but the main storyline sucked.

View all my reviews