If ever a post shouldn't be published... but screw it. I'm drunk and wish Jessica Walter was my other grandmother.

Gin swilling, razor tongued, wickedly manipulative, and devastatingly stylish.

Also, a terrible winker.

Yet I harbor this wild fantasy where Jessica Walter and I get wrecked on highballs together in ridiculously chic outfits, and are just bitches.

(On taking the dog for a walk)
"We should go a different route. I wore this same dress last week."

"I'm not superficial. I just don't want a ring that looks like it came out of a gumball machine."

"Ugh. Kids. Can't enjoy a day at the beach because one of the little bastards are always around.
Whining because they've dropped a chip."

"My ideal date? Decent food and a reflective surface so I can casually check my hair."

"I love antiquing. There's always so many mirrors."

"Children. Why must they have perpetually sticky fingers?"

"This face is not natural. But it is a work of art."

"It's bullshit that women can get away with such casual dress on job interviews."
"Child, please. The time we spend on hair alone should justify any outfit."

"No, no. I like kids fine. I love them when they're old enough to work a blender."

"Dammit Mercedes-Benz, you see this heap I'm driving? Go ahead and tailgate. I'll slam these brakes in a second, I've got nothing to lose!"

"What lipstick shade is that? Whore?"

 "Is M-- working today?"
"He must be, the place reeks of Brut."

"Just curious, how many cases of cologne do you go through in a... month?"

"No darling, it's only avant garde in magazines. You just look like a slut."

"I don't know if I can muster as intense an eye-roll as that deserves."

"There should be a tax write off for pity sex. Especially looking like I do."

"Well, he was going down for over an hour. Eventually I just felt sorry for him."

"Oh, so when you caught him he said it was the first time? Well, cheating and lying tend to go together..."

"Texting is easily the shadiest form of communication."

"You can usually tell the drama queens as soon as they comment about 'hating drama'."

"My only true prejudice is Teetotalism."

"Oh, you're 'just being honest'? It's funny how often that coincides with 'just being a bitch'."

(On patriotism)
"Oh please, I've served my county. I've dated a man from almost every branch of the military."

"Do you even listen to yourself?"
"Yes. And I've made a list."

Roof this.

We installed a ridge vent in our roof the other day.

Because, blah blah blah, air flow, yadda yadda yadda, ventilation efficiency...

It's that thing at the top.
Basically we don't want our attic to double as a sauna.

Anyway, the "why" doesn't matter. What is significant, is that before this little adventure I probably gave as much thought to roofing as I do to why Bill Murray doesn't get his fair share of marshmallow slime in Ghostbusters.

Although now that I think about it...
Dan Aykroyd and Ernie Hudson look like they rolled around in a middle school prank's worth of shaving cream.
Yet Bill Murray barely gets a dollop?
What the hell?!

At any rate, roofs and roofing in general have now gone from being an unknown quantity to one of my top five fears.

Mainly because of this:

Wow.
There's really nothing between me and death right now, huh?

I've never considered myself as being afraid of heights. I mean, I love roller coasters, I've stood on the glass floor at Toronto's CN Tower without fear, and I have absolutely no qualms about clambering up ladders. But there's just something about scrambling over a roof that terrifies me.

Of course I didn't realize this until I was actually on said roof.

T: "Today would be a good day to install that ridge vent."
B: "Okay, I'll help you!"

..... ..... .....

And this is what reckless confidence gets you:

Oh my God.
I am going to die.

Of course, having done this many times before, Troy is climbing all over like a damn spider monkey.

Weeee!

So while he's doing his "look-Ma-no-hands" bullshit, I'm hunched over like Igor with a pry bar in one hand while the other claws desperately at the asphalt shingles.

However, during this time of pants shitting terror I did learn some valuable lessons.

- Thank goodness for crab soccer.

Remember this?

The lame offspring of soccer and limbo.

You know, that "wacky" game you'd play in gym class that usually resulted in severely scraped knuckles and finally ended when someone got kicked in the face.

Smell my foot!

Well, if it wasn't for crab soccer teaching me the intricacies of walking backwards on my hands and feet, someone probably would have had to call the fire department.
Going up the slope of a roof is one thing, it's getting back down without gravity making you it's bitch; that's tricky...

Pictured: Gravity's bitches.

- Sawdust is slippery.

 There's an old trick that involves using sawdust on snow paths to increase traction. Unfortunately, the same does not apply for asphalt roofs.

Sawdust sucks when you're thirty feet in the air.

Asphalt shingles are covered in granules. And when sawdust and shingle granules combine, it makes for an unholy union of too much loose surface area.
In other words, the chances of falling to your death increase significantly.

This guy knows what I'm talking about.

Why did we even have sawdust on the roof? Well, part of installing a ridge vent involves making a gap in the apex of the roof so air can escape.
So, in our case, part of the roof had to be cut out to provide for the vent.

Mind the gap.

Here's Troy being a badass with a circular saw and just daring sawdust to fuck up his afternoon.

I believe the term is "bear".

- Stubbornness > Fear

I have a "healthy fear" of a lot of things. Death, dismemberment, spiders, needles, lack of internet connectivity...

Router panic!

And now scaling roofs has been added to the list.

In the days following the ridge vent episode, I found myself evaluating the slope of neighborhood roofs and imagining climbing them. Occasionally experiencing fits of anxiety when the slant was too steep.

Fucking terrifying.

 And although my muscles now ache with the nervous tension of Igor climbing/crab sliding/pants soiling dread...

Me.
Surrounded by sawdust and certain death.

I'd do it again.

If only because I'm just too damn stubborn to admit that a roof can defeat me.

But then again...

Now Hiring: Drawbridge Architects

There are moments in life when the unexpected happens...

Taking a Lewis Carroll inspired acid trip, for instance.

  ...and how we choose to respond to those situations is a good indication of who we are as individuals.

Like when a small landscaping project turns into a severe plumbing emergency.
 

You know, just for an example

Over time, my weekends have morphed from consisting solely of wacky antics, group high fives, and hangovers to house work, and ogling the Home Depot gardening section.
 

I have never been so turned on by flora.
Seriously.

Which is why, instead of hiding from the light, I was out in the yard on a Saturday morning, armed with an ax and a pair of loppers, destroying what remained of a massive hedge of dead azalea bushes, when I heard Troy's yell.

Since Troy's not generally one to make noises of distress, I naturally assumed he was doing battle with a gator from the marsh across the street.

Yes, I'm aware this is actually a crocodile.

Approaching cautiously with my ax, I was met with a very different spectacle.

Mon Dieu!

A standalone spigot in the middle of the front yard had been previously bent down into the ground by a work crew, and it did not take kindly to Troy's attempts of bending it back upright.

Hello. I'm here to cause panic.
*SNAP!*

And a geyser was born.

I wish I could say I remained stoic in the face of impending disaster.

But no.

"Shit. Shit. Shit! What do we do?!"

"DIG! We need to contain the water!"

For the record, it is truly impressive how quickly people can work under stress. In less than two minutes we were well on our way to creating a fairly impressive koi pond.

Sans koi, of course.

And aren't water features just all the rage?

Granted I'm exaggerating the size of our plumbing emergency.

Slightly. 

But a broken, gushing pipe is not something that I was prepared to deal with.

So if you're ever faced with a similar pipe burst and need to immediately turn off your water, don't freak out like I did. Instead find the meter in your yard conveniently labeled "Water".

To be fair, it's almost idiot proof.

Generally located about ten feet away from the road, the water meter will also sometimes be painted blue or have a blue marker on it.
Once located, use your terror fueled adrenaline to pry off the lid. You'll then see a small knob that controls the flow. 

 If you remember, it's also a good idea to turn on the faucets in the house before turning off the water. This will help prevent a buildup of air in the waterline and keep your indoor faucets from sputtering.

Now, to shut off the water. You may be lucky and have a fancy-dancy water key.

High-tech.

 Just put the U-shaped end of the key over the knob-like valve and turn.

Of course, a pair of pliers and the aforementioned panic induced adrenaline is equally effective. 

 This is what it should look like when turned off.

 And then when it's on.

Congratulations! You've just averted disaster!

"And I took a hearty dump this morning."

Our particular scenario involved an immediate and significant amount of digging around the broken pipe to keep the gurgle somewhat contained. Followed by shutting off the water, and then digging a twelve foot trench.

WWI soldiers not included.

Because that's how long the snapped pipe extended until it connected with the main city line.

Blech.

On a more positive note, Troy is now twelve feet closer to achieving his childhood dream of having a moat.

And so, we are currently accepting applications from drawbridge architects.