Conversations with live people

Which is only vaguely humorous if you know there's a Buffy episode called Conversations With Dead People, and even then it's not that great. Sorry. I'm still waking up.

Me: You have really huge thighs. It's amazing.

Patrick: I know, I have giant femurs. If I ever lost a leg, I'd just save the femur to beat off muggers with.

Me: This is kind of morbid.

Patrick: Well, I'd clean it first. It'd be a really clean femur.

Me: You're so considerate. If I'm ever beaten to death with a leg bone, I hope it's by someone as hygiene-conscious as you.

In other news, this morning we saw some lady driving the wrong way up the one-way street we were on. I honked and she kind of swerved over to the side, but then pulled out again and kept going when the cars had gone by. Siiiiigh.

Patrick was testing out the recording software last night and did a bunch of humming into the mic to make sure it was picking things up correctly. Let me tell you, the Lament does not sound nice with man humming. It sounds even worse when you mess with the settings and pitch shift the notes up 8 instead of 12 (a full octave). The numbers denote half steps, not whole steps, which is the difference between going from an A to an A#/B-flat and an A to a B. Horrible sounding when you get it off.

Playing around with settings on this software is alternately amusing and ghastly, depending on what comes out. I told him that I was rather relieved he wasn't capable of sounding haunting and ethereal. It'd be really weird for a 6'4" man to manage that, and probably kind of upsetting. He agreed.

Oh, the ladder was finally delivered! This means we get to spend a Very Exciting Time cleaning out the multiple years' worth of slop from our gutters. Woohoo! I think I need to get some rubber gloves or something else waterproof. I have gardening gloves, but they'd quickly get soaked through with ick. So rubberized it is. Or maybe for Patrick. I don't know. We'll probably argue about who does it. He'll insist he should because he doesn't have to get up on the ladder as high to reach the gutters, so it's safer. I'll tell him it's gross and I deal with gross on a regular basis, so I should do it.

We sort of have a cat name. It's Dr. Sunshine Orange Thing Jones. Yeah, I know. He gets called Sunshine when we're trying to be good parents, Orange Thing when he's being naughty (or assorted worse names, depending on the crime), and Dr. Jones here and there because we're brain-dead and can't remember what we named him before. I suppose it's better than Hey You, but not by much.