I Love That Spicy Meat!
That's the last thing Petey heard heard me say before his cell phone cut out. Suprisingly the conversation was not about XXX (let me tell you, I do love that spicy meat), but about food.
Planning to head out to a Bachelor/Bachelorette Party tonight. Petey is planning the party. heh. A trip to see a drag show is on the agenda - this promises to be a party to remember.
It's almost too bad that K is going to have to miss all the fun.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Scary Feet! Scary Feet! Scary Feet!
Mine specifically. Yesterday after a shower I realized that my feet are absolutely fucking scary. And not just because of the horribly misshapen and bruised toenail on the left foot. I have awful calluses and I scar very easily. I heal lightening fast but guarantee a nice mark from just about anything. I have high arches so it’s hard to find shoes that fit perfectly. Something always rubs some part of my foot. This added to the fact that I scar so easily leaves my feet looking frightening. It takes almost nothing to make a callous or scar on me. Wearing new shoes one day – new pink patch on toe that will either become a callous or scar. Wearing old shoes I’ve worn a million times – add to callous already present on foot. No shoes – something will be dropped on foot to cause frighteningly disgusting bruise or cat will dash across naked feet with claws extended to cause horrible painful looking scar that will not fade for months on end. Think about new shoes – some part of foot will become irritated. My feet are scary. I could go on and on about this but I know it would bore you – I’m seriously self conscious about my feet, though I’d like a professional foot massage and pedicure I have always avoided such a thing as I fear what others think of my frightening calluses.
Anyway, I digress. I noticed my feet looked more atrocious than normal the other day. I also remembered two important things, I am attending a wedding on the 31st and plan to wear lovely black sandals and second I’m visiting XXX for a few days and don’t want to unintentionally permanently injure the man by my feet rubbing against him in the night. This called for action. I needed a good foot soak, pumice and some serious moisturizer.
As luck would have it I purchased a foot scrub and some serious foot moisturizer last week. While I bathed Cabbage Patch I sat on the edge of the tub and submerged my feet for a while. Now that my feet have been washed, sanded and moisturized I am wearing socks in the hopes of waking tomorrow to if not heavenly soft feet then at least normal looking non lethal feet.
Mine specifically. Yesterday after a shower I realized that my feet are absolutely fucking scary. And not just because of the horribly misshapen and bruised toenail on the left foot. I have awful calluses and I scar very easily. I heal lightening fast but guarantee a nice mark from just about anything. I have high arches so it’s hard to find shoes that fit perfectly. Something always rubs some part of my foot. This added to the fact that I scar so easily leaves my feet looking frightening. It takes almost nothing to make a callous or scar on me. Wearing new shoes one day – new pink patch on toe that will either become a callous or scar. Wearing old shoes I’ve worn a million times – add to callous already present on foot. No shoes – something will be dropped on foot to cause frighteningly disgusting bruise or cat will dash across naked feet with claws extended to cause horrible painful looking scar that will not fade for months on end. Think about new shoes – some part of foot will become irritated. My feet are scary. I could go on and on about this but I know it would bore you – I’m seriously self conscious about my feet, though I’d like a professional foot massage and pedicure I have always avoided such a thing as I fear what others think of my frightening calluses.
Anyway, I digress. I noticed my feet looked more atrocious than normal the other day. I also remembered two important things, I am attending a wedding on the 31st and plan to wear lovely black sandals and second I’m visiting XXX for a few days and don’t want to unintentionally permanently injure the man by my feet rubbing against him in the night. This called for action. I needed a good foot soak, pumice and some serious moisturizer.
As luck would have it I purchased a foot scrub and some serious foot moisturizer last week. While I bathed Cabbage Patch I sat on the edge of the tub and submerged my feet for a while. Now that my feet have been washed, sanded and moisturized I am wearing socks in the hopes of waking tomorrow to if not heavenly soft feet then at least normal looking non lethal feet.
Movie Night
(or Cabbage Patch Trauma Night)
K is out tonight with his boyfriend. I thought it would be a lovely idea to take the little people to a movie. I figured we could catch the last matinee of Shrek 2 before we came home to make dinner. It was kind of a last minute thing that was decided during a phone conversation with K a little after4 pm . The last matinee was at 4:45 pm so I cleaned up the kids and myself quickly then out the door we go.
We were barely out the door before Cabbage Patch starts WHINING. She has this LOVELY habit of whining whenever she has to walk anywhere. Usually she reserves it for the walk home but occasionally (like tonight) I get a special treat of whining on the way to our destination as well as the way home. Since Cabbage Patch just turned 3 she still falls a lot when she walks or runs or stands. Super Girl was much worse about the falling, her poor little knees and shins were constantly covered in scrapes and scabs. At 5 she seems to have outgrown that for the most part. Now it’s Cabbage Patch’s turn. The other day as we were walking across the parking lot to get into the car she falls and scrapes her knee. She’s fine. It makes a nasty looking scrape that gets an ugly scab on it, but she’s fine otherwise.
Tonight as we stepped foot in the parking lot of the movie theater she falls. On that knee. And bloodies it. Not just a little drop of blood or even a little trickle, but a freaking faucet of blood down her tiny little leg. I wipe the blood off her leg in hopes that the one river down her leg would be it, but I was wrong. I wipe about 4 streams off her leg before it starts to slow a bit. As I had nothing to wipe my hand on, I wiped it on the cement (I was careful not to touch her boo-boo with my now dirty hand from that point on).
We walk around the building to buy tickets and as we are standing in line I see a slow stream of blood has reached the front edge of her shoe. Sigh I get the tickets and we stand in line to get popcorn. I grab napkins to clean her leg up as we wait then put a piece of napkin over her bloody boo-boo to keep it somewhat protected.
Fast forward to after the movie and back home (yes she did whine all the way home). I discover that some Tiny Terrorist have absconded with the first aid kit. After some threats Super Girl locates the kit which now only holds three band aids and some empty wrappers (she’s off to bed early because of that). Grrr…
I get the peroxide to clean Cabbage Patch’s boo-boo as I now realize that the napkin was a bad choice of items to put on her boo-boo since I now have to somehow get it off and not further traumatize her. A few capfuls of peroxide later I decide a nice bath will work better as she’s starting to get a petrified look on her face. The bath is non-traumatic and enjoyable for her. She’s got a band-aid and Neosporin on her boo-boo (the one on her toe also – blister from her sandal) and she’s fallen asleep on the sofa while watching Wallace and Gromit. It’s so damn cute I may need insulin.
(or Cabbage Patch Trauma Night)
K is out tonight with his boyfriend. I thought it would be a lovely idea to take the little people to a movie. I figured we could catch the last matinee of Shrek 2 before we came home to make dinner. It was kind of a last minute thing that was decided during a phone conversation with K a little after
We were barely out the door before Cabbage Patch starts WHINING. She has this LOVELY habit of whining whenever she has to walk anywhere. Usually she reserves it for the walk home but occasionally (like tonight) I get a special treat of whining on the way to our destination as well as the way home. Since Cabbage Patch just turned 3 she still falls a lot when she walks or runs or stands. Super Girl was much worse about the falling, her poor little knees and shins were constantly covered in scrapes and scabs. At 5 she seems to have outgrown that for the most part. Now it’s Cabbage Patch’s turn. The other day as we were walking across the parking lot to get into the car she falls and scrapes her knee. She’s fine. It makes a nasty looking scrape that gets an ugly scab on it, but she’s fine otherwise.
Tonight as we stepped foot in the parking lot of the movie theater she falls. On that knee. And bloodies it. Not just a little drop of blood or even a little trickle, but a freaking faucet of blood down her tiny little leg. I wipe the blood off her leg in hopes that the one river down her leg would be it, but I was wrong. I wipe about 4 streams off her leg before it starts to slow a bit. As I had nothing to wipe my hand on, I wiped it on the cement (I was careful not to touch her boo-boo with my now dirty hand from that point on).
We walk around the building to buy tickets and as we are standing in line I see a slow stream of blood has reached the front edge of her shoe. Sigh I get the tickets and we stand in line to get popcorn. I grab napkins to clean her leg up as we wait then put a piece of napkin over her bloody boo-boo to keep it somewhat protected.
Fast forward to after the movie and back home (yes she did whine all the way home). I discover that some Tiny Terrorist have absconded with the first aid kit. After some threats Super Girl locates the kit which now only holds three band aids and some empty wrappers (she’s off to bed early because of that). Grrr…
I get the peroxide to clean Cabbage Patch’s boo-boo as I now realize that the napkin was a bad choice of items to put on her boo-boo since I now have to somehow get it off and not further traumatize her. A few capfuls of peroxide later I decide a nice bath will work better as she’s starting to get a petrified look on her face. The bath is non-traumatic and enjoyable for her. She’s got a band-aid and Neosporin on her boo-boo (the one on her toe also – blister from her sandal) and she’s fallen asleep on the sofa while watching Wallace and Gromit. It’s so damn cute I may need insulin.
Sew Frustrating
Back in April I purchased a new sewing machine. A Brother LS-2125. I got it at a really good price as it was a new model being carried by my Wally-World and they hadn't put the new pricing on it yet so it was $10 less than what it is normally priced. I did not purchase anything else for the sewing machine at the time. I figured I had everything I needed. I already had 2 other machines at home (my antique one that was my great grandmothers and one I purchased 5 years ago but needs servicing) and had two different kinds of bobbins - plastic ones (which the LS-2125 uses) and metal ones. The machine came with three empty bobbins so I didn't need to seek out new bobbins until recently when I was sewing for Super Girl. I grabbed some bobbins from my stash and started sewing only to discover that after a short period of sewing the bobbin thread would tangle. Frustrating. This is the first time I realized there were more variety of bobbins than just plastic or metal (and I've been sewing since I was 9!!!).
We head to Wally-World with sewing machine manual in hand to procure bobbins. I break out in a nervous sweat trying to figure out what I needed - I can't make heads or tales of the manual. K chooses what he thinks is the right bobbins. We head home. Wrong bobbins. Last night another trip to Wally-World, return previously purchased bobbins, look for correct bobbins - this time with model # of machine written on front of manual. Can't find any that say they will work in my machine. Leave empty handed (bobbin wise anyway).
At home I look up the Brother page and fer fucks sake they don't have my model of sewing machine on their page! What the hell??? I start to wonder if maybe they don't make this machine anymore - it would be just my luck to have purchased the last of a discontinued model that's destined to blow up any day now. I do a search for my model of sewing machine on the internet and I can find it at several different places that sell sewing machines. I search for bobbins for my model machine - in the search I discover that there are no less than 6 different styles of plastic bobbins. YIKES! After much searching I discover what the correct bobbin is that I need. I don’t' know if I can find it locally but if not I know of a place I can order them from. In bulk even. I can order 500 of them if I want! 500! HAH!
Back in April I purchased a new sewing machine. A Brother LS-2125. I got it at a really good price as it was a new model being carried by my Wally-World and they hadn't put the new pricing on it yet so it was $10 less than what it is normally priced. I did not purchase anything else for the sewing machine at the time. I figured I had everything I needed. I already had 2 other machines at home (my antique one that was my great grandmothers and one I purchased 5 years ago but needs servicing) and had two different kinds of bobbins - plastic ones (which the LS-2125 uses) and metal ones. The machine came with three empty bobbins so I didn't need to seek out new bobbins until recently when I was sewing for Super Girl. I grabbed some bobbins from my stash and started sewing only to discover that after a short period of sewing the bobbin thread would tangle. Frustrating. This is the first time I realized there were more variety of bobbins than just plastic or metal (and I've been sewing since I was 9!!!).
We head to Wally-World with sewing machine manual in hand to procure bobbins. I break out in a nervous sweat trying to figure out what I needed - I can't make heads or tales of the manual. K chooses what he thinks is the right bobbins. We head home. Wrong bobbins. Last night another trip to Wally-World, return previously purchased bobbins, look for correct bobbins - this time with model # of machine written on front of manual. Can't find any that say they will work in my machine. Leave empty handed (bobbin wise anyway).
At home I look up the Brother page and fer fucks sake they don't have my model of sewing machine on their page! What the hell??? I start to wonder if maybe they don't make this machine anymore - it would be just my luck to have purchased the last of a discontinued model that's destined to blow up any day now. I do a search for my model of sewing machine on the internet and I can find it at several different places that sell sewing machines. I search for bobbins for my model machine - in the search I discover that there are no less than 6 different styles of plastic bobbins. YIKES! After much searching I discover what the correct bobbin is that I need. I don’t' know if I can find it locally but if not I know of a place I can order them from. In bulk even. I can order 500 of them if I want! 500! HAH!
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Got Your Nose!
I think everyone has either witnessed that game being played or played that game with a toddler. I know I have. Tonight after discovering the dinner we had procured at the store would take at least 70 minutes to cook in our conventional oven we took a trip to our neighborhood Culver's to have a tasty and ever so non nutritional meal. When we arrived Cabbage Patched pleaded with me to pick her up and put her on the counter. As I stood there peering at the menu Cabbage Patch starts playing 'Got Your Nose!' with me, but not with my nose. She says (rather loudly) "I got your boobies!" And grabs my boobs. I looked at her in shock as she did it again, then I grabbed her little hands before she could do it a third time and said "Let's not play that now." I looked up in time to see the teenaged boy cashier grinning and stifling a laugh.
I think everyone has either witnessed that game being played or played that game with a toddler. I know I have. Tonight after discovering the dinner we had procured at the store would take at least 70 minutes to cook in our conventional oven we took a trip to our neighborhood Culver's to have a tasty and ever so non nutritional meal. When we arrived Cabbage Patched pleaded with me to pick her up and put her on the counter. As I stood there peering at the menu Cabbage Patch starts playing 'Got Your Nose!' with me, but not with my nose. She says (rather loudly) "I got your boobies!" And grabs my boobs. I looked at her in shock as she did it again, then I grabbed her little hands before she could do it a third time and said "Let's not play that now." I looked up in time to see the teenaged boy cashier grinning and stifling a laugh.
Monday, July 19, 2004
Microwoes Part II
Tonight a cooked a lovely dinner of roast, mashed potatoes with gravy, steamed cabbage and salad. The roast was perfectly cooked at 6 pm. My timing was off for dinner as I had forgotten that in order to cook the veggies I would have to actually cook them and not use the microwave as it is still broken. *sigh* I didn't remember this fact until the roast was out of the oven. I usually put things in my nice microwave cooking dishes and things are done in 6 minutes or less. Tonight I had to dig around for scarcely used sauce pans to cook in. I did at least remember to make the gravy last so that it wasn't all cold and coagulated by the time everything else was ready.
How on earth did my grandparents cook??? Someone PLEASE fix my microwave!
Tonight a cooked a lovely dinner of roast, mashed potatoes with gravy, steamed cabbage and salad. The roast was perfectly cooked at 6 pm. My timing was off for dinner as I had forgotten that in order to cook the veggies I would have to actually cook them and not use the microwave as it is still broken. *sigh* I didn't remember this fact until the roast was out of the oven. I usually put things in my nice microwave cooking dishes and things are done in 6 minutes or less. Tonight I had to dig around for scarcely used sauce pans to cook in. I did at least remember to make the gravy last so that it wasn't all cold and coagulated by the time everything else was ready.
How on earth did my grandparents cook??? Someone PLEASE fix my microwave!
I Could Not Have Said It Better
I just read this off Meegan's blog. *sigh* that's the most amazing feeling in the world.
I just read this off Meegan's blog. *sigh* that's the most amazing feeling in the world.
Psycho Link
Discussion over ice cream:
Me: We need to get a birthday gift for Gracie and a birthday gift for Josh and a wedding present for Martin & Angie.
K: Hmmm
Me: Well I'm going to get a book for Gracie. I'm going to get a book for Josh also.
K: OK
Me: And we can get a book for Martin and Angie as well...
K: We'll get them AD&D books!
Me: HAHAHAHA! That's what I was going to say!
K: See our psychotic link is still working, we are still connected.
Me: Stop thinking of show tunes!!!! Aaaaaahhhh! It burns!
K: (laughing to hard to make words)
Me: Make it stop!
Microwoes
There is yet another reason life sucks without a microwave. This morning I was very tired. VERY. In the middle of the night I had taken some allergy medicine for an unsightly rash that was invading my neck and chest area so I woke rather groggy. I wanted COFFEE this morning. Hell I NEEDED COFFEE this morning. I dared not attempt to make coffee in my diminished state of consciousness as I was quite certain I would surely cause myself grave harm. Now if my traitor microwave had been working I would not have had to worry about serious injury, I would have had coffee.
More kvetching... I returned home from working on Saturday and as usual K had taken the Little People out for pizza. Pizza Inn pizza I believe. They brought home left over pizza and cheese sticks. Usually I do like to partake in pizza after a long day (without lunch); I'm not a huge fan of Pizza Inn pizza though. A quick warming in the microwave makes it somewhat edible. Well I couldn't warm it. It was VILE. Two bites of cold Pizza Inn pizza was all I could handle, I thought I would barf it was that gross. So I ate the cheese sticks. Cold. Cold and cheese stick should not go together. They were at least not VILE.
Ugh. I need my microwave fixed!!!
There is yet another reason life sucks without a microwave. This morning I was very tired. VERY. In the middle of the night I had taken some allergy medicine for an unsightly rash that was invading my neck and chest area so I woke rather groggy. I wanted COFFEE this morning. Hell I NEEDED COFFEE this morning. I dared not attempt to make coffee in my diminished state of consciousness as I was quite certain I would surely cause myself grave harm. Now if my traitor microwave had been working I would not have had to worry about serious injury, I would have had coffee.
More kvetching... I returned home from working on Saturday and as usual K had taken the Little People out for pizza. Pizza Inn pizza I believe. They brought home left over pizza and cheese sticks. Usually I do like to partake in pizza after a long day (without lunch); I'm not a huge fan of Pizza Inn pizza though. A quick warming in the microwave makes it somewhat edible. Well I couldn't warm it. It was VILE. Two bites of cold Pizza Inn pizza was all I could handle, I thought I would barf it was that gross. So I ate the cheese sticks. Cold. Cold and cheese stick should not go together. They were at least not VILE.
Ugh. I need my microwave fixed!!!
Gay Boyfriend
I'm laughing. Go see that and laugh too. I guess I got the ultimate in Gay Boyfriend - I have Gay Husband. heh.
I'm laughing. Go see that and laugh too. I guess I got the ultimate in Gay Boyfriend - I have Gay Husband. heh.
Word For The Day
Paula gave a complicated and mendacious account of why her grandmother's account was short. She obviously isn't very smart to be using the account for shopping since grandmother is in a nursing home!
mendacious \men-DAY-shus\ adjective
|  |
|
| |
Paula gave a complicated and mendacious account of why her grandmother's account was short. She obviously isn't very smart to be using the account for shopping since grandmother is in a nursing home!
Friday, July 16, 2004
Microwave Update
Juan the maintenance guy came by today to look at the microwave. He
informed me that the microwave was still under warranty and a service
person would need to be called to come out and fix it. He promised to
call and let me know when to expect the service person. He then told me
that he thought a plumber would need to come out to fix the upstairs
tub. Great, great. He said the fan would need to be completly replaced
and implied that it would be done soon. Yeah, I believe that. At least
he didn't give me an exact day to expect a repair this time.
So what does all this mean. It means that the fan probably won't get
fixed anytime soon, the tub will keep dripping for a bit longer, the
floor may never get fixed but the microwave will more than likely be
fixed fairly soon. Ah well at least I'll be able to make coffee.
Juan the maintenance guy came by today to look at the microwave. He
informed me that the microwave was still under warranty and a service
person would need to be called to come out and fix it. He promised to
call and let me know when to expect the service person. He then told me
that he thought a plumber would need to come out to fix the upstairs
tub. Great, great. He said the fan would need to be completly replaced
and implied that it would be done soon. Yeah, I believe that. At least
he didn't give me an exact day to expect a repair this time.
So what does all this mean. It means that the fan probably won't get
fixed anytime soon, the tub will keep dripping for a bit longer, the
floor may never get fixed but the microwave will more than likely be
fixed fairly soon. Ah well at least I'll be able to make coffee.
Some Days It Sucks To Be The Queen...
Today is one of them. Some time around noon I started feeling poorly. Nothing huge like vomiting every 15 minutes or bleeding out the eyeballs, just a bit of gastrointestinal upset which I thought would go away quickly. Not so, after a few hours, a fever and growing tiredness I realize this is hanging in to make me miserable today.
Prior to The Little People entering my life, whenever I felt ill I would retire to my bed to have delirious dreams and quietly sleep it of, telling anyone who disturbed me (even to make sure I was still alive) to leave me alone (as the words 'leave me the fuck alone' were generally far too much trouble at that time). Alone, asleep, in bed. That's how I prefer my sickness to proceed. I don't want to be a bother, and I don't want to be bothered. I will emerge when healthy, otherwise stay away from me and my bio-hazard zone.
Now that I am a MOM (AKA the Queen around here) I no longer have that luxury. The Little People do not understand that whilst mommy is sitting on the commode for the 10th time in an hour, it is best for them to not try to have a conversation with mom, beg for something or fight with one's sibling. Nor do they understand that mom needs a coma like state to recover and when mom is in coma like state it is ill advised to stack various things on the stool to facilitate reaching the chocolate syrup on the top shelf so as to cover most areas of the kitchen in aforementioned chocolate syrup and multi colored sprinkles. *sigh*
I have tried several things to facilitate my much needed rest. I've tried to make it a game and tell them that they are doctors and I'm the patient in a vain attempt to get some peace by compelling them to feel compassionate toward their ailing mother. That only succeeded in having them get their doctor toys and poke me in the arm with a crayon every 5 minutes to 'give me a shot' until I finally threatened their little lives if they poked me in the same spot one more time. I've tried napping with them, but inevitably that is the day they will NOT nap and instead repeatedly request a story from me or ask me 5 million questions about the conversation we had 4 months ago. The results are the same in either case, mom doesn't get healing rest.
Enter Disney Hell. Thank goodness for the VCR and DVD player. Occasionally I get lucky and find a movie they LOVE and will actually watch (as opposed to their usual watching for 5 minutes then wandering off to wreck havoc elsewhere). Generally these 'gems' are some horrible Disney creations that the mere thought of makes me break out in a cold sweat and makes me wish for hard liquor. Disney hell. When I am not feeling 100% this is perfect for a nap. The little people still use this time to wreck havoc in the house or torture the cat, but only about half as much as normal and thus I can get a few moments of sleep - albeit with the awful background noise of horrible Disney music going through my fevered brain to create demented Technicolor dreams that will haunt me and disturb me for days to come. But sleep. That is good.
Must go now, the little people have finally agreed upon a feature and the couch is calling for me.
Today is one of them. Some time around noon I started feeling poorly. Nothing huge like vomiting every 15 minutes or bleeding out the eyeballs, just a bit of gastrointestinal upset which I thought would go away quickly. Not so, after a few hours, a fever and growing tiredness I realize this is hanging in to make me miserable today.
Prior to The Little People entering my life, whenever I felt ill I would retire to my bed to have delirious dreams and quietly sleep it of, telling anyone who disturbed me (even to make sure I was still alive) to leave me alone (as the words 'leave me the fuck alone' were generally far too much trouble at that time). Alone, asleep, in bed. That's how I prefer my sickness to proceed. I don't want to be a bother, and I don't want to be bothered. I will emerge when healthy, otherwise stay away from me and my bio-hazard zone.
Now that I am a MOM (AKA the Queen around here) I no longer have that luxury. The Little People do not understand that whilst mommy is sitting on the commode for the 10th time in an hour, it is best for them to not try to have a conversation with mom, beg for something or fight with one's sibling. Nor do they understand that mom needs a coma like state to recover and when mom is in coma like state it is ill advised to stack various things on the stool to facilitate reaching the chocolate syrup on the top shelf so as to cover most areas of the kitchen in aforementioned chocolate syrup and multi colored sprinkles. *sigh*
I have tried several things to facilitate my much needed rest. I've tried to make it a game and tell them that they are doctors and I'm the patient in a vain attempt to get some peace by compelling them to feel compassionate toward their ailing mother. That only succeeded in having them get their doctor toys and poke me in the arm with a crayon every 5 minutes to 'give me a shot' until I finally threatened their little lives if they poked me in the same spot one more time. I've tried napping with them, but inevitably that is the day they will NOT nap and instead repeatedly request a story from me or ask me 5 million questions about the conversation we had 4 months ago. The results are the same in either case, mom doesn't get healing rest.
Enter Disney Hell. Thank goodness for the VCR and DVD player. Occasionally I get lucky and find a movie they LOVE and will actually watch (as opposed to their usual watching for 5 minutes then wandering off to wreck havoc elsewhere). Generally these 'gems' are some horrible Disney creations that the mere thought of makes me break out in a cold sweat and makes me wish for hard liquor. Disney hell. When I am not feeling 100% this is perfect for a nap. The little people still use this time to wreck havoc in the house or torture the cat, but only about half as much as normal and thus I can get a few moments of sleep - albeit with the awful background noise of horrible Disney music going through my fevered brain to create demented Technicolor dreams that will haunt me and disturb me for days to come. But sleep. That is good.
Must go now, the little people have finally agreed upon a feature and the couch is calling for me.
Day One Of No Microwave Oven
Breakfast:
Dear Diary,
Upon waking this morning I discovered that the state of my microwave oven was not in fact a bad dream. After repeated attempts to convince the microwave it was feeling better and would in fact warm my cup of cold cold water to a temperature that was pleasing and satisfactory for coffee consumption I realized that I was going to have to actually figure out how to warm water on the stove.
30 minutes of searching for a pan later I had it filled and sitting on a burner to warm. I sat at the computer to stare at my e-mail as I waited and dreamed of nice hot coffee. After what seemed like an eternity (must have been 5 minutes at least!) I ventured into the kitchen to find out the status of my water. It was still cold. Hmmm... What could I be doing wrong. 30 more minutes of fiddling with the stove and several burnt fingers later I had the proper heating element on beneath the pan of water. Back to the computer to actually read the e-mail this time. Several minutes later I was again concerned about my heating water as I had not yet heard the familiar ding alerting me that my water was prepared. My water was boiling by then. I still have no idea why it did not ding. I fiddled with the knob that I had previously learned controlled the heating element and turned it off. I poured (spilled) the water into the cup eagerly anticipating my caffeine. Then... eww... What's that in the water? Ugh. Seems the pan wasn't nearly clean enough and my diminished state of consciousness had impeded my detection of STUFF in the pan. *sigh* Wash pan using hand with only one burned finger, refill pan with water and repeat water warming process. This time things went smoothly. I stood in kitchen and watched as water boiled, for some reason it seemed as if it never would boil. Success finally! Hopefully next time it will take less than an hour and a half to make coffee. Gotta get that microwave fixed.
Lunch time:
Dear Diary,
My desire for left over spaghetti sauce and pasta was thwarted by the fact that microwave is still not working (I'm still checking every so often in case it was just tired or maybe it just had a viral infection). I figured that since I had managed to prepare my caffeine fix with little mishap I could managed to warm lunch on the stove top. It's amazing how quickly one remembers how to use a fire extinguisher when the bright flames of destruction are emanating from ones lunch pan. After fanning the smoke out of the house, getting the smoke detector to stop blaring, repeatedly convincing the firemen it really was just a case of burnt food and threatening/pleading with the little people to never breath a word of this to anyone, we had sandwiches for lunch. I've always liked sandwiches really, don't know why I even considered pasta.
Contemplating dinner:
Dear Diary,
I finally entered the kitchen after having two anxiety attacks from prior attempts to enter the domain of The Appliance Of Satan (the stove). A quick assessment of the contents of the freezer full of frozen veggies confirmed my fear that due to the microwave being broken I would indeed have to heat anything eaten on the dreaded Satanic stove! I briefly considered making the veggies as one would make sun tea as it is near 100 outside, but nixed the idea as I don't have any idea how long one would time 'sun veggies'. I am currently collecting menus laying about from all of the places in the area that will deliver a nice diner to my door. Though difficult with my blistered fingers and bandaged hand, I think it would be safest to avoid The Stove Of Doom and forego another inopportune meeting with hot hunky firemen (ya know, they really aren't all that open to being hit on when they think your home is a smoking inferno - gotta admire that dedication to duty though). More on dinner later, right now I'm running a bit high on caffeine as I've taken to eating my coffee by the dry spoonful to completely avoid the whole nasty affair that's still so vivid in my memory (throbbing fingers too). I think I need to keep it to the recommended serving size as the 12 or so spoonfuls I've already ingested is starting to cause hallucinations and the urge to run up and down the stairs repeatedly, brain having trouble keeping up with my fingers also.
Breakfast:
Dear Diary,
Upon waking this morning I discovered that the state of my microwave oven was not in fact a bad dream. After repeated attempts to convince the microwave it was feeling better and would in fact warm my cup of cold cold water to a temperature that was pleasing and satisfactory for coffee consumption I realized that I was going to have to actually figure out how to warm water on the stove.
30 minutes of searching for a pan later I had it filled and sitting on a burner to warm. I sat at the computer to stare at my e-mail as I waited and dreamed of nice hot coffee. After what seemed like an eternity (must have been 5 minutes at least!) I ventured into the kitchen to find out the status of my water. It was still cold. Hmmm... What could I be doing wrong. 30 more minutes of fiddling with the stove and several burnt fingers later I had the proper heating element on beneath the pan of water. Back to the computer to actually read the e-mail this time. Several minutes later I was again concerned about my heating water as I had not yet heard the familiar ding alerting me that my water was prepared. My water was boiling by then. I still have no idea why it did not ding. I fiddled with the knob that I had previously learned controlled the heating element and turned it off. I poured (spilled) the water into the cup eagerly anticipating my caffeine. Then... eww... What's that in the water? Ugh. Seems the pan wasn't nearly clean enough and my diminished state of consciousness had impeded my detection of STUFF in the pan. *sigh* Wash pan using hand with only one burned finger, refill pan with water and repeat water warming process. This time things went smoothly. I stood in kitchen and watched as water boiled, for some reason it seemed as if it never would boil. Success finally! Hopefully next time it will take less than an hour and a half to make coffee. Gotta get that microwave fixed.
Lunch time:
Dear Diary,
My desire for left over spaghetti sauce and pasta was thwarted by the fact that microwave is still not working (I'm still checking every so often in case it was just tired or maybe it just had a viral infection). I figured that since I had managed to prepare my caffeine fix with little mishap I could managed to warm lunch on the stove top. It's amazing how quickly one remembers how to use a fire extinguisher when the bright flames of destruction are emanating from ones lunch pan. After fanning the smoke out of the house, getting the smoke detector to stop blaring, repeatedly convincing the firemen it really was just a case of burnt food and threatening/pleading with the little people to never breath a word of this to anyone, we had sandwiches for lunch. I've always liked sandwiches really, don't know why I even considered pasta.
Contemplating dinner:
Dear Diary,
I finally entered the kitchen after having two anxiety attacks from prior attempts to enter the domain of The Appliance Of Satan (the stove). A quick assessment of the contents of the freezer full of frozen veggies confirmed my fear that due to the microwave being broken I would indeed have to heat anything eaten on the dreaded Satanic stove! I briefly considered making the veggies as one would make sun tea as it is near 100 outside, but nixed the idea as I don't have any idea how long one would time 'sun veggies'. I am currently collecting menus laying about from all of the places in the area that will deliver a nice diner to my door. Though difficult with my blistered fingers and bandaged hand, I think it would be safest to avoid The Stove Of Doom and forego another inopportune meeting with hot hunky firemen (ya know, they really aren't all that open to being hit on when they think your home is a smoking inferno - gotta admire that dedication to duty though). More on dinner later, right now I'm running a bit high on caffeine as I've taken to eating my coffee by the dry spoonful to completely avoid the whole nasty affair that's still so vivid in my memory (throbbing fingers too). I think I need to keep it to the recommended serving size as the 12 or so spoonfuls I've already ingested is starting to cause hallucinations and the urge to run up and down the stairs repeatedly, brain having trouble keeping up with my fingers also.
The Blame Game
In thinking about yesterday I've decided to place blame for items where it is appropriate to do so... i.e. I will randomly and inappropriately blame others for my misfortunes.
In thinking about yesterday I've decided to place blame for items where it is appropriate to do so... i.e. I will randomly and inappropriately blame others for my misfortunes.
- The Near Death experience Of Shaving. Obviously this is K's fault. He bathed the Little People in my bath over the weekend. My completely safe dull razor that has been sitting on the side of my tub for months on end was missing, forcing me to replace it with a deadly sharp brand new razor of death after a few days of vain searching for above mentioned SAFE razor (and a few days of horribly hairy frightening pits and... um... Well you get the idea). I see now this was a failed murder attempt by K. HAH! I survived it! Try harder next time.
- Broken Microwave. The aliens were obviously trying to contact me regarding their ongoing experiments on K. If I've told them once, I've told them a thousand times, the telephone is for talking, the microwave is for cooking and television is for mind controlling mental telepathy. This also falls under K's fault (I can't rightly blame the aliens now can I? That would just sound crazy).
- Lack Of Hair Removal. Due to the wax not heating properly, my unattractive and undesirable hair was not ripped viciously from it's roots as intended. This is the fault of the bastard microwave's blatant betrayal of me. Bastard microwave! How you make me suffer!!! Again K must accept the blame for this as the microwave falls under his area of blame.
- My Pathetic caffeine Addiction. Clearly this is K's fault. I don't think I need to explain, it's obvious that he is to blame.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
XXX Speaks
heh XXX left something on my tag board. Everyone give him a big, warm, Karmically Challenged Tag Board Welcome!
I didn't know he read this except when I prompted him to look at something. I guess from now on I'll have to stop detailing the fabulous sexual exploits we have. ;o) *sigh* XXX is so damn hot and sexy, how'd I get so lucky to find him?
heh XXX left something on my tag board. Everyone give him a big, warm, Karmically Challenged Tag Board Welcome!
I didn't know he read this except when I prompted him to look at something. I guess from now on I'll have to stop detailing the fabulous sexual exploits we have. ;o) *sigh* XXX is so damn hot and sexy, how'd I get so lucky to find him?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)