Category Archives: Oy!

Paint Can + Fighting Dogs / Fuzzy Slippers = Giant Mess

There are days when a cup of coffee is enough to get me going. Of course, today was not one of those days. Two cups apparently were not enough, either. This is how my day developed….

I completed the coffee ritual and began to take stock of the mess on the kitchen table. I had recently finished making some pincushions and still had the accoutrements scattered around looking like an art exhibit from the MOMA. Anyway, I took some of the stuff out to the garage, and as I was passing the hall bathroom, I noticed the little accent table I had acquired for the nook in the bathroom. It was in need of a quick sanding, so I went back to the garage and gave it a once-over, and brought it back into the kitchen, along with a quart of French Linen chalk paint. I wiped it down and let it dry as I took the rest of the crap to the garage or to the study-slash-catchall room.

(Yes, I have a lot of crap in the study and garage and hopefully it will be out of the house once the vendor spot opens in mid November *sobs quietly*)

Moving on, I get the table set up on the floor and open the can, a full quart of the loveliest dun color ever. I set it on the lowest shelf and begin to paint. Meanwhile, my dogs wander over to see what I am doing, since the scent is different from dog food and leftovers and Sonic tatertots. As they jockey for position to get as close as possible to me without having to deal with the scent, Lenny the big dog steps on Ivy the little dog, which makes Ivy irate and forces her to strike back in the only manner she can: using her itty bitty canines and jump at Lenny’s throat. Well, Lenny does NOT like that and turns to snap back at Ivy, which makes Ivy jump more at Lenny and causes Lenny to swing her body around and hit the table, knocking the paint can to the floor.

“GOOD LORD!!! YOU DOGS!!! LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!!! NO!!! GET AWAY!!! GO TO YOUR SPOTS NOW!!! STOP TRYING TO LICK THE PAINT, YOU IDIOTS!!! AND STOP TRYING TO LICK ME WITH THE PAINT!!!”

Yeah….so, I hurriedly shooed them out the backdoor and scooped up as much of the paint as I could. Thankfully is it relatively thick paint so I recovered quite a bit. And being one to not waste not, I simply used the rest of the spilled paint to finish painting the first coat. One thing about chalk paint: clean up is easy. I just wiped the floor clean with a wet rag and scrubbed the grout with a toothbrush. Once I was done, I washed the paint out of my clothes, and then went and showered again, because somehow I had paint in my hair. Aggie’s Axiom #18: no matter what I am painting, or how much I cover my hair, paint will eventually get on it and usually towards the back thus defying explanation.

So yes, that was my morning, and rest assured several lessons were learned here:

  • Never rely on one cup of coffee
  • Make sure to corral the dogs before starting to paint
  • Avoid doggie drama and paint outside

Tomorrow is a new day, and I have a new bag of coffee waiting for me 😉

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Total Disconnect

Today I had the pleasure of taking Hubby’s car in to have a few tweaks done to the rotors. I was prepared to spend at least two hours in the walk in freezer waiting area. I had a book and I had my Kindle, in case I finished my book. As y’all know, I prefer actual paper over electronic when it comes to reading material, but I couldn’t make up my mind on what other book to take so I took the Kindle because it had a variety from which to choose.

Thus endeth my justification.

So, I hand over the key and decide to go watch a trainwreck for a bit. Maury was on. I enter the waiting area to find a gentleman sitting across from the TV, managing his phone and his iPad thingy. He looks up and sees me and asks if he can change the channel to a less vomitous fare. I acquiesce, and proceed to take out my book and reading glasses (sob), and lose myself in the tale of intrigue.

I was lost exactly three minutes.

The gentleman finished managing his phone and turns to me to tell me how much he loves texting. When I say he loves it, I mean it. He LOVES it. He proceeds to tell me how handy it is to use when he wishes to tell his boss he isn’t going in to work (so that he doesn’t have to fake a cough on the phone). He prefers to do his break-ups over text so he doesn’t have to hear the “Did I do something wrong?” or the “Is it me??” whining from women (his words). He really enjoys the short messaging that forces people to be concise and devoid of any emotion when communicating.

He spent an hour talking to me in the most animated way about how he hates talking to people because they are emotional and needy. He spent an hour talking to me after his keys had been returned and he had paid for the services. And not once did he see the irony in the conversation. It’s a bit sad that all I had to contribute to the conversation were monosyllabic answers and a few nods of the head. But that was all I could get in, really. He finally noticed the time and bid me a farewell, and left to go back to work. I sat there in the now-silent waiting area and felt like I was on a flat sea. I can’t imagine feeling about human interaction the way he does. I hate texting. There is no emotion in it, and it’s not like you can imagine hand gestures and loud exclamations with a smiley face. And I need the hand waving and loudness, believe me.

I thought about that as I held up my book to avoid eye contact with the new customer who came in. I was justified, since she changed the channel to The View. And there is just so much human interaction I can take from that 😀


Flipping Ain’t Just for Burgers

As y’all know, I am a thrift store junkie. I’m not quite a diva. I haven’t reached the “found priceless artifact for $5” level yet. I am confident that one day I will eventually find the random Van Gogh, but until then I am quite content with finding mid-century vintage stuff that I can flip into a modern look. So far I have transformed a $10 dresser, a $2 lamp, and some antique frames. This week’s search was just as fruitful.

metal folding chair

Via Etsy

I found a pair of Cosco metal folding chairs at the thrift store for $3. That’s $3 for the pair!! Look at those beautiful lines!!! They are in very good condition, with only a couple of rust marks and of course, the vinyl needs replacing. While looking for some color ideas, I came across a listing for a pair: $75.

At which point I was all wha……??

Me: Holy cow, these chairs are selling for a lot of money.

Little One: Do you plan to sell them?

Me: No, I want to redo them and use them outside.

LO: So no big deal, then.

Me: But $75???

LO: That can get you a bunch more chairs to store somewhere while you do yet more projects.

Me: Point taken.

I admit I get swamped by my zeal to make something old ab fab again. So I shall just keep to one project at a time until I have made enough room in my garage to buy more retro stuff to flip. Hopefully I will have finished these chairs by this weekend.

Right after I finish Eldest’s old dresser.

And my sister’s old framed art.

And the cushions on the dining chairs.

*sobs uncontrollably* 😀


General Random Stuff That Makes Me Not So Happy

Sorry I have been absent from the blog so long. It has been a rather weird few weeks since school let out. I find myself making list after list of things to pack up and things to purge and things to finish and the only thing I have done is write the lists. So much fail, I know.

Yesterday I was in the checkout line at the grocery store wondering what to make for dinner even though I was actually purchasing food when I saw a little girl looking at the magazines on the rack. She was looking at some young actress who was on the cover with her hair blown away from her face, her arms at her hips, and her face a mask of what I can figure is “anger” (but most likely a product of “Pout for me, dahlink!!” from the photographer). And in what can only be described as sadness, I watched her pretend to be just like that glossy, unrealistic photograph: arms at hips, lips pouting, hair being tossed back. I hate those magazines. I really, really do. They are in the business of making every single woman feel UGLY!!! I have zero respect for a periodical that tells me I need to dye my hair and lose those pesky pounds or I will lose him and not get promoted to my dream job. We women are contrary creatures. You tell me I need to lose weight, and I will grab a quart of ice cream and eat it all while smirking in your face. And I will love every single spoonful!!

I went to make an appointment for my dogs to be groomed because I am far to busy making lists to do that, and when I whipped out my iPhone 3 to put the date in my calendar, the receptionist told me I should upgrade to a better phone. She told me. First, it isn’t anyone’s business what phone I own, and second, her name was not Graham Bell. I was a bit stunned at first, but then she went on about how new phone have better technology and you can do so much more with them. I politely asked what, and she informed me that Candy Crush and some muffin game were in HD now. I asked about GPS and she replied (and I kid you not), “I don’t play that game.” I took the opportunity to let her know I prefer a phone that is so outdated the NSA can’t track me. She asked if that was my parents’ service. I said yes and then just left. Honestly, I can’t even.

So that has been my week so far. I realize it is only Tuesday so there is plenty more that can possibly set me off like a firecracker, but I prefer to be positive and look on the bright side of things. Well, metaphorically speaking anyway, since another storm system is moving through here. And of course, Blue Bell™ is not yet back in production. This whole positive thinking is hard without Blue Bell™ and sunshine, so I’m going to stop rambling and go watch Ghost Whisperer and eat some yogurt. If that doesn’t work, five o’clock will eventually come around 😀


Sugar is the Best Hallucinogen

I love sugar. I really do. It’s not an argument about processed versus organic versus natural. I like sweet. Always have, and always will. And I especially enjoy it in chocolate or baked goods. And chocolatey baked goods. Ok, straight from the sugar bowl.

But there is now a Dark Side when it comes to ingesting the forbidden sweet late in the evening. I thought that when I ate cake while listening to Warren Zevon that it was a fluke. Seriously, who would ever dream of drinking at Trader Vic’s and annoying werewolves? Maybe some people, but not a whole lot. Late last night I had one Tim Tam™ cookie (biscuit, bickie, whatever they call it in Australia), and of course that set off probably my most ridiculous dream sequence ever, because it was about Johnny Manziel.

Johnny-manziel-rehab

You see, Johnny needed an interior decorator, which I’m not. But his problem was that he wanted someone to decorate his room so that no one could disturb his pet monkey. And he hired me because I was the only Aggie with an Anthropology degree who could possibly understand life with a monkey. And I looked around, and between the large ping pong table and the poker table, there was a monkey sitting on a huge L-shaped couch, playing Super Mario Brothers on a Nintendo thing (I assume) while Johnny was explaining how he wants to give the monkey room, so while brandishing a hockey stick (I did say this makes no sense) he opens another door and shows me a huge ballroom area with tall windows and marble floors and I tell him it is best to keep the monkey in the smaller room and for Johnny to move his stuff in the ballroom, to which he replied, “That’s awesome!! When can you do it??” And I kept telling him he needed a wrangler not an interior decorator and he asked what was the difference and before I could charge him some obscene amount of money, I woke up.

Aside the obvious weirdness of the whole scenario, I’m not even sure why Johnny would make an appearance in my subconscious. I’m more of the Jason Isaacs/ Bruce Willis/ Sean Bean school of thought, really. A dream with any or all of them would have been awesome. Can you imagine???

Maybe a dram or two before bed, and I just might 😀


Finding My Happy Place For Today

Unfortunately, I have to find it without the aid of candy or wine. I already vented my spleen over at Uncivil Peasants (NSFW), and feel the need for happy thoughts because if I don’t, I may just vent something else, like a carburetor.

happy tuesday

It’s not just politics that make me want to force choke the milk carton. It’s also the lack of empathy I witness everywhere. I witness the disparaging remarks of a “pacifist” towards a soldier and wonder what happened to civility. I watch commercials showing disrespectful children sassing their parents and wonder what happened to manners (don’t get me started on the teen eating out of the cereal box and drinking out of the milk carton). I see History repeating itself while lamenting how we don’t learn from it. There is a quiz going around social media that asks “How smart are you?”. I saw it pop up on my social-site-with-faces page and saw all who took it got “PhD” level. ALL OF THEM. But it was our friend SoCal who pointed out the obvious: every question was something he learned back in elementary school. And yet that qualified one as PhD level? Is that how far education has fallen?

I picked a heck of a time to quit eating sweets. I guess yoga will have to suffice until Easter. Ok, maybe not yoga but perhaps thinking about yoga. I have my limits, and so do my tendons 😀


Sometimes It’s Not My Fault

I am usually the first person to admit fault in anything. Out of sweetener? My fault I forgot. Dead flowers? My bad for not checking the water. Dog had an accident? Oops…. forgot to let her out in time. I don’t mind accepting the responsibility, since most of the time it is easily rectifiable.

Except when it comes to my sister. It’s her fault everything she borrows from us gets ruined.

But there is a line that I do not cross. I won’t take the blame for something that I never did. A few evenings ago, Hubby and I were in bed watching TV, because there was a Monk marathon and that’s one of my jones. Anyway, he soon tired of it and decided to turn on his side, facing me, to go to sleep. Unfortunately, he didn’t notice that my leg was curled up facing him.

Hubby: *whimpers loudly*

Me: Are you ok??

Hubby: *gasps* That really hurt.

Me: What?

Hubby: You kneed me in the….

Me: WHAT? No I didn’t! I haven’t moved!

Hubby: Yes, you did…. *whimpers*

Me: No, I didn’t. You nutted me in the knee!!

Hubby: *stunned silence*

I would never, ever damage fruit of his loom. That’s like cutting off the heels to a pair of Louboutins because you tripped over your shadow. Makes absolutely no sense. So yes, sometimes it’s NOT my fault, and he should deal with the consequences 😉


When Progress Regresses

Tuesday, I was at the Dept. of Public Safety, Driver’s License office.

Yes, the dreaded DMV.

Normally I never have a long wait. The office is small and out of the mainstream, so it’s usually quiet. The longest I have ever had to wait was maybe 30 minutes. In retrospect, I have never waited long at any DMV office. I hear the agonizing stories from friends near and far, and I wondered why I had such good luck in my experiences with the government entity in charge of your identification.

I wonder no more.

You see, back in the old days, circa 2012, one would go into the office, pick a number, and proceed to wait until their number was called. It was a simple procedure and it was designed to service everyone regardless of reason. If you were there to take a test, you had to take a number, then be called, then they would issue you another number and you would go wait in another area to take your written or driving test. Simple and straightforward.

Take-A-Number1

Yesterday, I went in with Son to get his driver’s permit. I walk in and find a new contraption in the number dispenser’s place.

kiosk

Well, ok….. Son takes a number and we are instructed to look for our approximate waiting time on the NEW AND IMPROVED BOARD. The new board is divided into four groups: renewals/ replacements, driving test, new DL or ID, and “other”. And we realize that in a room of maybe 16 people, our wait time is almost three hours. At this time my Spock ears started twitching because there was a metric ton of logic missing from that estimate. So I began to converse with those waiting in Hell line. One lady had been there for two hours already, for a renewal. A young man was the ONLY one in line for a driver’s test, which the board said would be in five minutes, for the last hour. Something was off, but in my experience sugar is always better than vinegar. Unless you are making sauerkraut, I guess. I look around and see a sign for appointments, so I asked one of the DMV workers if they took appointments. And thus clarity began to form.

It turns out that office recently began to take appointments. You call and make an appointment for a certain day and time, and walk in when you are ready. But the website is ALSO taking appointments, without the co-ordination of the actual office workers taking phone appointments. So in the quest to make things easier for people who can’t or wish not to wait, the appointments are lumped in the “first come, first serve” basis even if you aren’t there. So someone that has a 9:00 AM appointment will be ahead of the person who came in and took a ticket at 8:05 AM. Before, if you needed to do anything at the DMV, you had to come in and wait your turn like everyone else. Now, not so much. The young man who was told he would only wait for another five minutes? He left after almost a three hour wait.

I’m not against technology or progress, but I am definitely in the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” camp. This is why I still use stationery and am scouring the flea market for a typewriter and a rotary phone 😉


This Episode of Aggie’s Life is Badly Written

Today I had the misfortune of needing to go in for an ultrasound. The only instruction I received from the receptionist when I booked the appointment was to make sure to keep my bladder full and drink at least 20 oz. of water.

I want to take this time to thank my children for having trained my bladder so well.

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It used to be long ago, back in the Iron Age when I went to high school, the ultrasound transducers were not as sensitive as they are now. This is where I cheer for technology. The technician was very light-handed and the whole procedure was rather quick and mostly discomfort-free. Mostly.

Anyway, after that I went home to take Hubby’s car to be inspected. Hilarity ensued.

Mechanic: Hi, what can I do for you?

Me: Car inspection, please.

Mechanic: *looks it over* Looking good!

Me: *blinks*

Mechanic: Just kidding, just pull it over to the side.

Me: Oh, I get it.

Mechanic: Not enough coffee this morning?

Me: Let’s go with that, ok?

Mechanic: *snort*

Once again, I am in the itty bitty wait area, the sight infamous for the previous debacle. Anyway, I proceeded to wait, whiling away the time by entertaining a little toddler who was doodling in a “My Little Pony” coloring book. Soon enough the car was ready, so I paid and went out to get the car, when the mechanic came over and let me know he was impressed that the car was in such great condition. I told him thanks, and that it’s a result of her being Hubby’s baby. Instead of laughing, the mechanic nodded sagely and said “She sure is.” I don’t get this reaction when I take in the van or the SUV.

Finally, this afternoon I get to go back to the hospital to pick up Hubby, since we drove in together in one vehicle. This means I get to enjoy traffic in the rain. Then I get to cook dinner, which will be braised chicken. It will be braised in white wine, so I have that going for me.

I love to cook with wine. Sometimes I even put it in the food 😉


Stupid Aggie Tricks

Today I was perusing the social-site-with-faces for news and sundry, when I noticed my friend PajamaMomma‘s status:

Running late…..washed my hair in the sink with dish soap. I hope I don’t get “dish pan” hair.

And that got me to thinking of all the stupid things I have done simply because I saw them on TV. I’m not saying PJM’s hair washing was stupid. I consider it sheer genius. It just so happens that her status post triggered a memory avalanche.

I hate it when that happens.

#1– I have tried and enjoyed milk with Pepsi™.

On a dare at the college cafeteria, this n00b took on a member of the elite baseball team (Chris Knoblauch, if you must know) and drank a glass of milk with ghastly Pepsi. It is the only way I will drink either.

#2– Soaked my fingernails in Palmolive™ dishwashing liquid.

To this day I don’t know why doing that was a Good Thing™. All I got out of it was clean cuticles.

#3– Wrote my name using Era™ liquid detergent, on a grass stain that I incurred on my jeans while doing something no doubt stupid.

Yeah, you have to actually LET IT SET for hours before you see any change. I wasted half a container and incurred motherly wrath.

#4– Washed my hair with Ajax™.

Obviously, I learned a lot from Laverne and Shirley. Also, Ajax™ strips your hair of oils and residue pretty well. Do not do this more than once a month, though.

#5– Carried Certs™ around just in case I had a “Certs encounter.”

The closest I had to a “Certs encounter” was years ago, in the wine section of the supermarket, and the gentleman was in his late 70’s. Neither one of us had Certs™. Thank goodness.

These are just a few of my…. fails, I suppose. I am sure I am not alone. At least PJM has done her share. So I have that going for me 😀