Extreme Measures Book Review

Since it's cold and I don't want to leave the house anyways, I've been doing a lot of sitting on the couch and reading. I made sure the kitchen was cleaned up first, so it's ok.

Extreme Measures (Vince Flynn) is the story of how Mitch Rapp and Mike Nash teach the Senate Judiciary Committee and Senator Lonsdale that 'extreme interrogation' is necessary and if they are not allowed to do whatever they need to do to get information there will be a terrorist attack. And there is. Not gonna lie, I found the first part of the book too preachy about torture and too close to reality. It made me squeamish. I'd rather read about bad guys that don't involve terrorist attacks on Washington DC. That said, the lead up to the frenetic climax is a page turner. I was reading until 4:00am and then again a few hours later. I'm not sure you could say this book is about some ass kicking because there's not that much ass kicking. In the next book Pursuit of Honor I think there could be some major ass kicking because Mitch Rapp has been given pretty much carte blanche to kick ass.

Best and Worst of 2010

Not wanting to be left out of all the Best and Worst Lists of year, I've given a lot of thought as to what I wanted to rate because I'm sure everyone cares.

BEST BOOKS OF 2010
I decided to go with just five because I lose focus after the fifth one on other lists. They are in no particular order.

Worth Dying For Lee Child
Cutting for Stone Abraham Verghese
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series Stieg Larsson
Columbine Dave Cullen
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks Rebecca Skloot

WORST COUNTRY SONGS OF 2010
"Water" Brad Paisley
"Welcome to the Future" Brad Paisley
"I'm Just a Guy" Brad Paisley
"Anything Like Me" Brad Paisley
"Water" Brad Paisley

That's right, I listed "Water" twice because it's so dumb it deserves to be on the list twice. Brad Paisley makes me want to get a gun and shoot the radio.

TOP ACTS OF MISCHIEF AT THE SARATOGA ANIMAL SHELTER
Looking back, the winter of 2010 was relatively mischief free. Maybe mischief hibernates in the winter.

PDub and EDub UFC match.
Sarah digs a hole in the mattress. (I'm officially saying it was her.)
Emmah Snickerdoodle gets a mullet
Something is found dead in the duck pool
Two dead cats

Rare Sighting

Today while bike riding, we had a Nick Viselli sighting. I love Nick Viselli. I love Nick Viselli because he tells stories that go like this, "We were on the kayaking circuit with our ten year old grand daughter when we saw a heliomonster and I tried to ride out, but my bike had a flat tire, so I used my lighter and duct tape and a hollowed out piece of bacon to facet a bike pump and got us out of there."

This is the first time we've seen Viselli since he retired last year. He's been too busy donatating blood (playing rugby) and wining champtionship rugby mugs and following the Junior Olympics kayaking team and building commerical buildings to ride bikes with us. He needs shoulder surgery, but is going to wait until after he goes to Japan to play rugby to get it fixed. Nick Viselli said, "I'm gonna stay a bit back from you because I don't have any breaks to speak of." Because Nick Viselli disabled all of his breaks pretty early on in the ride. Who rides mountain bikes without breaks? Nick Viselli. Because he is freaking hard core. The worst part? Even though he could kick your butt 25 times over he will pretend he's completely fine riding at your pace.

I want to be Nick Viselli.

Does Anyone Know How to Reach Dexter Morgan?

Blood splatter clearly indicates that Mischief was around a plenty while I was out today. I triaged all members of the Pack and no one is bleeding. PDub and EDub are happily swimming in their pool. I did a brief inspection of the backyard for dead animals during my interrogations: "Are you bleeding? Are you bleeding? Earl are you bleeding? Assholes. What the hell did you do?" The investigation yielded nothing. This leads me to these possibilities:

• The Pack killed/maimed someone who was trying to get into my house.
• The Pack killed/maimed a mouse and ate it.
• The Pack killed/maimed one of the doves that have been eating their food while they lounge around lazily.
  

American Assassin Book Review

Bill said I would like American Assassin because it's like the Jack Reacher novels. And I liked it. This is the story of how Mitch Rapp becomes a hard core doesn't even exist spy or killer or whatever he is. The back story to all of the previous books. I think Mitch Rapp looks like this:
So it was pretty easy to get into the book. (Mitch Rapp could have been described as a stocky red head for all I care- I imagined him looking like Hawaii Five-0 guy.) Rapp is out for retribution for the Pan Am Terrorist bombing in which his girlfriend was killed. He balls up all of his feelings deep into his belly, stamps it all down with anger and goes into the woods to train to become a killer and then he comes out killing.

This book was fast paced and a good read. The bad guys were bad mix of Russians (historically former bad guys) and Jihadists (current bad guys) which Mitch and his 'handler' Stan Hurley work over. There's some torture and fingernail pulling out and one guy looses an ear. Now I have to wait for Bill to let me borrow the other Mitch Rapp books he has.

Brief comparison of Mitch Rapp and Jack Reacher: Mitch Rapp and Jack Reacher have many significant differences. First, Mitch Rapp is hot and Jack Reacher does not come across as hot. I mean, the guy wears the same clothes until he buys new ones. That is not hot. Second, Jack Reacher works alone. He does not have friends. He does not collaborate with anyone. He has no need for a radio because he doesn't talk to anyone. Mitch Rapp is working with the CIA even if he officially does not exist. Jack Reacher works solely in the USA kicking the ass of home grown bad guys. His passport is expired. Mitch Rapp is a world traveler and therefore has many a passport to choose from. Apples and oranges my friends, apples and oranges.

Countdown to Lockdown eBook Review

"Scaffolding" is what we called it in my day, but I think now the eduspeak term is "frontloading." Whatever its called, I could have used some for this book. I am not a wrestling fan. I do not watch wrestling. I was continually lost in the nuances of TNA and WWE and Lockdown and Wrestlemania, blah, blah, blah. The last wrestling match I can remember is the one with me and Padilla the night before my dad's surgery in which Freddy's dog ate my glasses (literally ate the glasses) requiring me to show up at the hospital unable to see and my sister all "see who's the good one now." In any case. What I would like to say about this book is it pushed the limits of my stereotypes of wrestlers. I'm not too proud to say that I have never considered wrestling the sport of brainiacs. I would stereotype wrestlers as a bunch of neanderthals unable to spell the because of too many chair hits to the head. But this Mick Foley guy, he breaks the stereotype. He has a whole chapter about his love of Tori Amos. He gives money to build schools in Africa and money for rape victims. He's well written. So most of what I've taken from this book is that I should not stereotype and even Hardcore Legends can be sensitive men. Awkward.

I did not like the two chapters in which he gives his opinion about steroid use and what wrestling should be about. I skimmed those. Foley conveniently starts each chapter with the Wrestlemeter letting you know how much wrestling each chapter holds. If you like wrestling even just a little bit, you'll like this book. If you are not a wrestling fan, then maybe you might like this book, but I'm not going to suggest you read it because I don't need that kind of responsibility on my shoulders.

Success

And after patching the roof (a two Lowes trip because I forgot my wallet the first time) I may have controlled the leak in the laundry room. Lucky me did not have to get on the roof because my neighbor Tony did it for me.

In the Photo Booth

Finally finished!
Don't tell me that's not stinking funny.

Round III

I know what you're thinking. Why didn't she stop them? Well, I TRIED! This was only the aquatic portion of the fight! Before this, there were three rounds on the ground, where first I yelled at them. Then I pounded on the fence with the green metal spike that holds up the chicken wire, then I yelled some more. I thought they were done when they took to the water and so I said, fuck it, I'll film them. But then when it got particularly nasty and I was afraid EDub was going to drown I ran (ok, walked) out to the pool to try to get them to stop. Then I pounded on the pool with the green spike all of which only got me splashed with green duck pool water, which turned out to be a good thing because it forced me to make a decision about a shower. (Aren't PDub's wings amazing?)

Perplexed, I just Googled "Why are my ducks fighting?" and came up with several items that suggest that this is not abnormal behavior, along with a video PDub and EDub's dopplegangers fighting. Somewhat reassuring. One post suggest that they are establishing a pecking order.

Round II

Round I

Pro-Choice

Since EDub and PDub never bothered to learn English or write little signs describing what exactly their beef was with me, it appears that the protests and death threats from the Little Backyard were centered around the fact that they did not have the freedom of choice to get on the patio. Since I opened up the little area for them to walk up to the patio they have been calmer and despite the fact that it has been raining for nearly 24 hours straight these guys have spent nearly 100% of that time sitting out in the rain or swimming in the rain, or walking around in the rain. I guess they just want the option to get on the patio.

But because of the 24 hours (and continuing) of rain the rest of the members of the Pack have been reluctant to exit the building, except Earl who protested at 4:00am and wouldn't come back in and who is still wet after enduring a few hours out there. I, too, am reluctant to leave the building, but that's really because as of late, I would prefer to never leave the house ever. If I could figure out how to get someone to go buy my groceries for me I probably would never leave the house again. All this means is that now Mischief is confined to the interior of the household and unless all animals are in the same room with me, I must do a Michief check every 30 seconds to make sure that they are not tearing shit up, which the last check just revealed Earl nibbling on a pillow case, which now has all members without thumbs banned from my bedroom.

Ain't That the Truth

Good Things

In case the Daily Press is not on your daily reads and you missed this because it was one of the reasons my blood pressure was so damn high.

Capitulation

The Giving of the In went like this
(pouring rain)

Ducks: (thinly veiled mute like threats)

WeakWilledMe: Oh, God, maybe they'll die because they won't go in the duckhouse and they'll be wet.

StrongWilledMe: They're ducks. They'll be fine.

WeakWilledMe: But ducks in the winter fly south.

StrongWilledMe: We live in the south.

WeakWilledMe: Maybe they're using all of their energy trying to kill me.

StrongWilledMe: A duck can not kill a human being.

WeakWilledMe: It's animal cruelty.

StrongWilledMe: Do you want the patio filled with duck shit again?

WeakWilledMe: No, but I don't want them to die!

StrongWilledMe: Don't do it!!

WeakWilledMe: (undoing the fence in one spot) It will only work if they are smart ducks and figure out how to get out.

StrongWilledMe: You suck.

WeakWilledMe: I know.

This Is What I'm Talking About

I'm also going to place a hard copy in a safe deposit box because that's what you do when you fear for your life.

In an attempt to increase their pay-per-view ratings, EDub and PDub took their mixed martial arts cage free fighting to the aquatic arena this morning. The part I saw involved EDub sitting on top of PDub and holding her head under the water or sitting on her head while pulling at her back feathers with the soundtrack of me yelling, "Get off of her! Get off of her!"

In Case of my Untimely Demise

Dear Friends,
I have become increasingly concerned for my life due to the viscous hostility I encounter when entering the Little Backyard. It seems that some members of the Saratoga Animal Shelter have not gotten over the fact that they are not allowed on the patio anymore and are pissed the fuck off. When I walk out to feed them, they run aggressively towards me threatening me with bodily harm in the half mute quacks. Food does not calm them. Filling their pool does not calm them. They are out for blood.

Should I suddenly stop posting and become unreachable by phone, e-mail, or text, please look for my beak stabbed body in the Little Backyard.

The Real Housewives

If my house were a microcosm of the Real Housewives franchise, Randi would be the crazy one who creates her own fun wearing inappropriate outfits no matter where she went or who she hurt; Earl would be the silent one who would cut you when you least expect it and Clarky would be the neurotic, talk behind your back annoying one. Sarah would have been the one with the sage wisdom and English accent, to whom no one listened. And me, I would be the responsible one who actually worked.

This Week's eBook Reviews

I've finished two books in the past week.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. I bought this book before I realized that it was the same one that Megan had read, but I was glad to know that someone else enjoyed it besides whatever book review it was on. It's the true story of Henrietta Lacks, whose cells were the first to be grown and are still alive and seem to be responsible for many many medical advancements. So many medical advancements that you think, not possible. And no one knew anything about this woman. The books is both a biography of her, a biography of her family, a brief medical history and a commentary on medical ethics. And all quite interesting. I tried to convince Married Ladies Book Club we should read it, but they didn't go for it. (The did go for Cleopatra: A Life and I'm very excited to start that book.)


Shaken: A Jack Daniels Novel J.A. Konrath eBooks can be expensive. This one was $4.99, so I decided to take a chance and you know what? It turned out ok. Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels, is a homicide cop and in this installment (one in a series of clever drink titles) is being held captive by the crazy serial killer Mr. K, whom she has been chasing for several years. Her partners' witty dialogue was actually witty and funny. It was, however, a bit gory for me. There were a couple of times where I was like wow, yeah, that was a little bit too much description of the body thank you very much. But for $2.99-$4.99 a book, I would read another.

I Do Not Have an Infectious Disease

It's no secret that one of the best parts of work is that Mr. Ostlie often leaves me little presents in the form of "I HEART YOU" stickies. Mr. Ostlie and I have been married for several years now after I said, "Can we get married?" and he said, "Sure." And made me an engagement ring out of bubble gum wrappers and masking tape. Later he upgraded my ring to an enormous plastic diamond ring held together with making tape. Our marriage was founded on the fact that he could keep his then girlfriend and now legal wife. Technicalities. I called first dibs.

Moving on. To say I've been a little busy and stressed out with work would be like calling Mount Everest a minor hill. This morning I got to work and within ten minutes I was trying to juggle a college student in my room asking about a tutoring job, a phone call and a mouse that wasn't working. The mouse, I discovered, was courtesy Mr. Ostlie who had left a sticky with a heart on it over the light so it wasn't reading. Obviously, it was a cheap ploy to get me to call Mr. Ostlie bright and early all "I got a problem, can you help me?" I was too smart for him and fixed the sticky right quick.

So I walked up to the office, made some copies and here's where the story starts to really get going: stopped by to tell Peggy thanks for fixing my bracelet that Randi had broken. I wasn't there long when Peggy exclaimed, "Bethany, what wrong with your ear? It's all red!" I said, huh? and Peggy insisted on showing me extremely red and swollen left ear in her mirror. It was rather bizarre because Gretchen had not said anything to me this morning, so I assumed it was something that had happened recently. I marched myself back over to our rooms and to Gretchen and said, "Yeah, Gretchen, quick question. Did my ear look like this this morning?" To which she yelled, "OH MY GOD!"

She took a picture, but it didn't come out well and she wanted me to take some Benedryl and while I would have appreciated the sleep, it wasn't going to help me to get any work done. "Well, since you're not going to take some Benedryl, maybe you should at least put your hair down." I didn't like that option either because I hadn't washed my hair, so I left to go find Mrs. Watt, the health teacher to see if she had some cortisone cream.

She was gone. But her assistant said that my ear was quite bizarre and she remarked that it had even gone to my right ear. So I left there and was on my way to the restroom to see if my rash had spread to any other part of my body. On the way there, I ran into Toni, the security guard and I said, "Toni! Look at my ears!" To which she yelled, "OH MY GOD! You look like Rudolf, only with red ears." Toni said the rash was spreading to my face and afraid that I might pass out on my way to the nurse's office, she insisted I ride on the golf cart and off I went to the nurse's office.

In the nurse's office, I pointed to my ears and said, "Look at my ears." And the nurse yelled, "OH MY GOD!" And the kid sitting in the office said, "Yeah, I think there's a rash going around because my gramma got it and she was itchy all over." I thought great, I've got some crazy ear disease. So the nurse took my temperature, then Debbie walked in and said, "OH MY GOD! Did you check your blood pressure?" Since Debbie's so practical, the nurse, Toni and I set about trying to get my blood pressure. The first cuff the nurse discarded because the reading wasn't right. The second cuff did work and she said, "Oh wow, yeah that first one was right." Because my blood pressure was 140/100 and I never have high blood pressure. She subsequently put some cortisone on my ears, which subsequently looked less swollen and decidedly less red rather quickly. I stuck around long enough for the nurse to tell me that I should come back in an hour for a second checkup on my blood pressure and ear redness. Toni drove me back to my room and as I was thinking I should sanitize the phone in case my mysterious infectious disease was still lurking around, I picked up the receiver to find that Mr. Ostlie had placed scotch tape over the earpiece and written "I love you" with an accompanying heart with a red Sharpie pen.

To which I yelled, "OH MY GOD!" Because I had just wasted 45 minutes of my morning trying to diagnose a mysterious ear rash without alerting the CDC, which was really a redness caused in part from red Sharpie and in part from the allergic reaction to red Sharpie. I promptly called Peggy who said, "OH MY GOD, I'm going to kick Mr. Ostlie's ass." Mr. Ostlie said, "My God, how did you not notice? At least we know you're allergic to red Sharpie." I responded, "If I were you, I'd lock your door, cuz Peggy's on her way."

Récapitulons: Before allowing anyone to convince you that you have an ear rash requiring hazmat suits, check the earpiece of the phone for red Sharpie. And FYI: I am allergic to cats and red Sharpie.

Pretty Exciting Afternoon

Mr. Hawk was sitting on the chair out in the Little Backyard. Stephen said he would only go after baby ducks, so I tried not to panic, but having hawk chillin on a chair in my backyard? That does not freaking happen to me everyday. I took the picture through the window. Because I'm pretty sure a hawk could eat me.

THEN! Even more exciting was I caught EDub sticking her head into their duckhouse!!

And because it's a lazy Sunday afternoon and I have nothing to do, since I refuse to leave the house and a shower smacks of overachieving, I stood at the door and watched as both of them took cautious baby steps until PDub put her whole self in the duckhouse!
Then EDub pounded on her head until she came out and then she pounded on her some more until I opened the door and yelled for her to knock it off. I was getting worried because I thought that maybe PDub and EDub weren't ever going to go into their duckhouse. I even asked Duane how I could entice the ducks to go in their house and he said, "Huh, good question." And then I was forced to ask Jenny to ask Stephen who responded via Jenny that ducks like to sleep outside because they like to see what's going on. So I was pretty sure these ladies were never going to go in the duckhouse. This is sooo exciting.

This morning I came up with a self-treatment plan for my back, since treatment for the issue seems an impossible demand. (My insurance denied the next treatment and said I needed to "explore a more long acting narcotic to manage pain." Don't think I won't be telling Choice Medical a big fuck you on that one.) Anyways, here's my plan. I am going to train Randi and Earl to massage my back and hips on a regular basis. Or I'm going to get a puppy and train it to be my pain management dog.

Prime Suspects in the Who Chewed on My Pants Crime Committed This AM

What Kind of Dogs Are Those?

People are always asking me what Randi and Earl are. I always say "bad." Because, well, they are. This morning the guy who is currently working on making my backyard weed free said Earlie looked like a hyena.

I suppose Earl looks a bit lit that, but I think he looks more like this:

Mostly I think Randi and Earl look like some kind of mutt Akita combined with a lot of mischief.

I got out our stockings last night. I couldn't bring myself to throw Sarah's away, so I put it on her grave. Randi and Earl are getting nothing but coal.

Basculée

My sister has purchased a Nook. My sister who has never read a book in her life. You know what my sister did with the books we had as kids? She wrote her name all over the pages of the books. My sister whom I saw with a book in her bag and I said, "Amber, are you reading a book??" and she replied, "Oh. No. I just wanted to look like everyone else, so I put a book in there." My sister who used to sit and say, "whatareyoudoingwhatareyoudoingwhatareyoudoing?" while I was reading until I was forced to leave the room. My sister who has an allergic reaction when she walks into a book store. My sister bought a Nook. I don't even know what to do with this information.

Mischief caused the backyard to flood today when Mischief somehow got the connector thingy for the hoses unhooked from the faucet. And since the water was on, the water spread all over the backyard. My backyard is mud sludge.

The balance of Michief and Reason has shifted exponentially to Mischief since Sarah's passing. She, apparently, was the Moral Compass of the backyard and without her Reason has no place. This is also how a pillow ended up spread across my living room on Monday. Mischief.