One Fish, Two Fish...

Yesterday's post about our Christmas tree reminded me of our fish tank. Well, it was actually the photo. You can see just a little part of it in the Christmas tree photo.  Let me tell you a little back story.  B has always had a fish tank.  It is his thing.  Prior to this recent one, he had a small tank the equivalent size of say a 20" TV.  I have no clue about gallons and such.  That tank lasted quite some time until it developed a big crack and dumped massive amounts of water on to our floor.

Despite the fact that I am almost always in the same room with the fish tank, I did not notice. I did, however, hear a bunch of cracking, kind of like someone walking on ice.  Upon hearing this, I would get up and investigate, but never quite figured it out.  A few days into this, B remarked how much water the fish tank was losing. Yep, that was because the water was on the ground, in our carpet to be exact.  The fish tank was cracked along the entire bottom.  I am so oblivious.

A new fish tank had to be obtained right away.  B could not live without one and the fish were dissatisfied living in my dishes in the sink.  Actually, I was a bit dissatisfied with that as well.  Off to Craigslist B went a searching.  The next day he tells me he has found a tank, is off to pick it up and will need my help when he returns.  Great.  Upon his return, I hold the front door open for him as he brings in a tank the equivalent size of a plasma TV.  I say "oooooh" and "ahhhh."  That's when he tells me he really needs my help.  I look puzzled and go downstairs to find the hugest base/cabinet thingy ever. And it is wood.  Like 1980s wood.  I say "Oh my GOD that is ugly."  B looks a bit surprised and maybe a little hurt, so I say no more.  Instead I assist him in lugging this thing up.  B remarks about my surprising strength, which he does anytime I move anything:

"I can't believe you carried that big computer monitor all the way up the stairs by yourself"

" I can't believe you carried that huge TV into your parents' house all by yourself"

"That cabinet was heavy, you are more woman than I thought."

But I digress.  B assembles the fish tank and it looks like this:

Kind of ugly 80s wood, right? But I have to admit that it looks okay in our house. Much better than the former fish tank. This one elongates the wall or your eye or whatever other secret interior design language I do not know. It really made the living room look better, in my opinion. Score one for B.

However, this just made me notice more that the inside was, shall we say, colorless. B goes to great pains to "decorate" for the fish, but it all looks like green, brown, and nothing. Take a look:

I bring this up to B and he says it is not a salt water tank, apparently it is a fresh water tank. Thus, it won't look bright blue with colorful fish and many colors like the bottom of the ocean. To which I respond, "so it looks like the bottom of a lake?" Tell me that doesn't look like the bottom of the lake. I guess it doesn't matter because the fish don't mind. 

You know who else is a big fan? Chester. It is like we upgraded his entertainment center from a 20" TV to a plasma and he cannot get enough. He spends most of his days "watching" the fish tank and trying to catch one fish he has his eye on. A colorful red one. B thinks it is because the fish moves fast. I think it is the only spot of color in the lake that Chester can see.  So he must try to "get it" with his paw on the glass.

Let's hope this one doesn't crack.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...

Behold...the unveiling of our 2008 Christmas tree:

This year I decorated it all by myself. I am such a big girl.  Usually B and I do it together. The routine is (we are all about routine have you noticed?) that B goes and buys the tree, puts it in the stand, puts the lights on it and the tree topper on and then, together, we put up the ornaments.  This may or may not include my wearing a Santa hat and B taking pictures.  We desperately need a dog to dress up.  In the 4 or 5 years we have been doing this (I obviously have stopped counting), we have only used B's ornaments.  This is mainly because mine are all stored in many boxes at my parents' house and I either (a) forget that they are there, or (b) am too lazy to go get them. This year I wondered why I never put MY ornaments on the tree. B said "go get 'em."  Yep, just his ornaments are on the tree again.  Oh well, maybe next year I will add mine.

Before the tree's arrival, I had discussed with my Mom whether we were actually going to get one.  You see, this year, we are celebrating Christmas by going to Vegas on Christmas day with B's family.  Since we will be gone and it is now only a few weeks before Christmas, I wasn't sure if we would get a tree although B assured me that we would. And we did. I came home from the office on Saturday* to find a real live tree with lights and a topper.  Alas, B had to work that night so I decorated it alone.  However, those of you that follow me on Twitter will remember that I discovered at least one ornament had been hung on the tree before B's departure. Behold:

If you cannot see this because the picture is sorely out of focus, that would be the Millennium Falcon...

B is a dork. We are two peas in a pod. Now remember a couple of paragraphs ago when I said that all of the ornaments belonged to B? That is not exactly true. We do have a few that we purchased as a couple:





This is the tree of cards purchased in Las Vegas circa some year.**

And this is a scary looking witch purchased in Italy on our honeymoon. There is some meaning behind this witch that has to do with bringing kids presents and good luck or something, but I cannot remember.  Man, I have a horrible memory.

And the final two, the Vegas sign we got our first year together in Vegas and a hand blown glass ornament obtained last Christmas.

 

There you have it folks, our tree. And, if you are counting like I am apparently:

Together ornaments: 5
Dani ornaments: 0
B ornaments: 1,000,000
Our Christmas tree: beautiful.

*Sometimes I am in the office on Saturday. Sometimes I am  not so happy.

**I cannot keep all of the wonderful years B and I have been together straight. They just blend into one beautiful rainbow.

What's Old Becomes New Again

Or my fancy way of saying:

I Love Recycling!!

I really do. I love the sorting, the organizing and even the carrying to the curb.  It's Thursday and it is recycling day!  It wasn't always like this.  It all started when B found an extra recycling bin in the back of our building. We claimed it as our own.  Then, I went online and downloaded the guidelines. Yes, I downloaded them. Yes, I refer to them often.  However, I know most of them by heart:

B: Can we recycle the paint cans?

Me: Yes, has to go to the center though, not in the bin.

~~

B: We can't recycle these batteries can we?

Me: Yes, they just need to go into a plastic baggie and placed at the bottom of the bin.

~~

B: Are you planning on taking these hangers to the cleaner?

Me: Nope. They are going in the bin.

I am full of information and excitement for this new gig. B wants no part of it and calls it my "job" and says I am "in charge of it" which I thought meant I had to carry the bin to the curb (I do), not that I would have to follow B around the house to rescue the recyclables (I do that too). B will only remember to recycle about half the time.  This results in my peppering him with questions and statements like these:

"Why are you throwing out that envelope - it can be recycled!"

"That's a plastic bottle in your trash!"

"Where are you going with that cardboard box?"

"The newspaper does not belong in the bathroom trashcan"

B responds with one of these two answers:

"I don't know" which means "recycling is your job, I want no part of it" OR

"Oh" which means "Oh"

B also wants no part of it because he believes that recycling is just a big conspiracy coverup and that they merely collect all your stuff and put it in a big trash pile. Nothing I say can convince him otherwise. Even pointing out that by now someone would have figured this out and uncovered it. Like one of those crazy investigative news teams that follow everyone around.  Nope, B is convinced it is a scam.  He also loves conspiracy theories. Enough said.

This weekend, however, was extra exciting as I had to go to the actual recycling center so that I could give them the huge cardboard box from Black Friday's TV.  B thought that was a great idea and handed me two cans of paint to take with me.  Never having been to the center, I did not know what to expect. 

I love the recycling center!!  Seriously. There are big huge bins everywhere for everything you can think of, all nicely sorted.  Between recycling, diner dash games and my love for the mail, I probably should have been a mail sorter.  But in any event, the center was full of organization, sorting and rules, and, apparently I broke one of them.

Upon driving up to the chemicals section which consisted of a crazy looking shed and a man with a cart, I got out of my car to give him my two small paint cans.  We have the following exchange:

Man: Do you have an appointment?

Me: No. Do I need an appointment [reviewing guidelines in my head and noting they did not mention an appointment to drop off paint]

Man: Yes.

Me: So should I make an appointment?

Man: We have to have appointments because we service 13 different cities [note, I was the only one in front of him at the time]

Me: So should I make an appointment?

Man: Just show me your ID

I did. He took the paint. On a cart. Despite the fact that I was able to carry them with one hand. Now you know since he took the paint, I probably won't make an appointment next time either. As I got out at the next stop - big cardboard box bin, I saw a guy go over to the paint guy with three cans of paint.  And of course he was asked if he had an appointment. The guy thought he might.  No he did not. Yes the guy took the paint.  But he is not going to stop recycling that line about the appointments.  Oh no.

Meanwhile, back at home I tell B about my newfound love for the center and how I am going back this weekend with something.  At that exact moment I look out to see the recycling truck picking up the bins.  This usually happens on Friday when I am at work but with the holiday, it was happening on Saturday.  I took that moment to point out to B that the truck had separated bins in which they were separating the stuff they picked up.  B declared it was all for show, that it was just going into one big garbage pile and they really FOOLED ME.

Yes, I have been fooled.  We all have been fooled.