The Odd Collector

Some years ago, maybe 20 or so, I decided to collect lighthouses. But only Harbour Lights® lighthouses. I loved them. There is a certain lonesome romance about a lighthouse. The solitude associated with them is attractive. Anyway, I collected them until they went insane and made several different limited editions and decided that the name was more important than detail. Seriously, there is no way the Canaveral lighthouse is three times taller than the Space Shuttle.

There are some things I still collect. I have a fondness for geology and tend to be an amateur rockhound, so I have a nice collection of museum quality specimens. And of course, I collect Lolita™ glasses. Finally, a collection of useful things!! And they are like Pokemon™: gotta catch ’em all. According to Hubby, I am rising to that challenge.

Those are ordinary collections, though. But the thing is, I am an odd collector, too. I think of an odd collector as someone who only collects one of a certain thing, usually some item destined to be an heirloom or something that has some tie to a cultural reference. For example, while we were stationed in Hawaii, I fell in love with Koa wood. It is very rare and expensive, so there was no way I was going to own a dining table and chair made from it. But I managed to find a vanity hairbrush and comb set with a beautiful burl on the backs. One thing, see? I remember my grandmother had little glass figurine in its satin-covered box. We were never allowed to touch it, even breathe on it. It was Baccarat™. I don’t know what happened to it, but I do remember how the light refracted and made such beautiful rainbows when she showed it to me. A while back blogger friend Mitchell posted a gift for his mother, and years later I feel the need to have this one thing.

A bold, beautiful butterfly. I have a jones for cute insects. And Hubby never has any idea what to get me. He has decided the Lolita thing is off the table, since he has no idea what I own, so this would be a nice one thing to gift me. It may be too late for Christmas, but there is always Valentine’s Day, and I would much prefer this to flowers that die or candy that makes me fat.

So, do y’all have those “one things” too? Or am I an outlier? Again?? 😀

And So It Begins at the Post Office

Today I decided it was cold enough to go to the post office to get holiday stamps (Mother and Child, if you are curious), packing tape (because I can never find the spool that will invariably turn up after the holidays), and mail out a package to Eldest. I was excited to send off the package because I can finally send her something, you know? Ironically, I sent her Navy stuff she owned. I still have to wait to find out what she is allowed to have in her quarters. The last thing she needs is to be articled over a bag of Twizzlers™ and a hair straightening iron.

As an aside, forgive my absence from the blogs. My Linux laptop is having connectivity issues, and after crying and sobbing attempting to connect for a week, I figure it’s time to take it in to be checked. I am now using my mini, which is IE, and which is a PITA. So, because it is difficult to use, I will be blogging and commenting a bit less than usual.

Ok, back to the topic. Anyway, I was at the post office, and as I stood in the rather short line, I noticed the patrons all had packages, and all were going overseas. The lady in front of me asked if I was sending to an MPO, because she wasn’t sure she had written the address correctly and was worried the package wouldn’t get there on time. Oddly, the gentleman behind me had the same question. So, I helped them with the addresses, making sure to repeat the addresses on the side of the boxes just in case. After my business is finished, I am walking out of the office and witness a young woman dropping her packages all over the parking lot, so I go help her out, and after setting the packages on the table, I notice another lady with a box wrapped in masking tape, which is not code. So, I give her the spool I had just bought and told her to seal the box as well as she could. And wouldn’t you know it, an older lady pipes up and says, “Looks like we have one of Santa’s elves helping out.” And I replied, “I’m just doing the jobs trolls won’t do.”

Yes, they all laughed. Thank goodness they all had a sense of humor 😉

Random Gratefulness

It’s November and that means Thanksgiving and that leads to recognizing the things for which we are grateful. I understand that there are many, so very many things and I see in social media a daily account of friends listing their blessings. It’s very touching to see and it also helps to put things in perspective. I don’t participate because I prefer to keep that private. But there are some random things, basic, mundane, everyday things to which I would like to express appreciation.

For example, I am grateful for locks. They have some rather unique uses. I am grateful for the ability to prevent my kids from using my fabric scissors on their cardboard projects.

I am also grateful for that awesome 80’s hair fashion holdover, the scrunchie. Without it, all the power cords behind the entertainment center would resemble Medusa on a bad day.

Lastly, I am very grateful for the ever-present margarine containers. They are so handy. Not just for storing the coming Thanksgiving leftovers for friends to take home so that it doesn’t overcrowd my refrigerator, but also for the sundry crafting stuff that apparently seems to disappear the minute I need it, and re-appear once I am done with whatever project I had. And because I don’t microwave in them, I don’t release poly-something.

So there you have it. Random things I am thankful to have around. I would have listed Duct Tape™ and WD-40™, but they go without saying, as does the rope and shovel. Hope y’all have a great Thursday 😉

 

Embracing the Breaks

Growing up, my mom always told me to be mindful of people’s feelings. It wasn’t just a mean thing to do, but also a shocking breach of etiquette. But it always bothered me how being considerate of people’s feelings jarred against being honest, even when kind. I’m of the opinion that no one has a right to be offended, but also one should never be spiteful. There’s a meme that always rubs me the wrong way about this.

I get what that is trying to say: once you hurt someone, the damage can’t be repaired. But what it misses is that people have to get “damaged” in order to grow and mature. Facing adversity makes people stronger. The world isn’t going to save your feelings all the time. But in damage there can also be beauty.

This ancient Japanese tradition is based on the philosophy that things that have been broken can be made to be more beautiful than before. They have overcome adversity, and have a history and scars of what they have overcome. Just because something broke, it shouldn’t be discarded. So it is with people. Some of us are more damaged than others. But just because we are damaged doesn’t mean we are no longer needed or wanted. It is our responsibility to fill our breaks with gold, and become stronger for having been broken. No one else can do that for you.

A flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all. — The Emperor, Mulan

When you break, pick up the pieces and make them more beautiful. Show the world that you are no longer the same, but better. And you’ll be stronger for it 🙂

Worst Case Scenarios, Part MCMLXXX

It always happens, no matter what we are doing or where we are travelling.

Hubby has the ability to think of 55 x 10³ things at once. It’s a gift and a curse. It does not matter if we are out having ice cream at Baskin Robbins™. In the middle of a delectable bite of Cherries Jubilee, he will ask any one of us a question involving a possible, but highly improbable scenario. It was no different yesterday on the way back from visiting family.

Hubby: Suppose we are on the way home, and suddenly you see a mushroom cloud go up in the distance. What would you do?

Me: Are you serious right now?

Hubby: Yes. What would YOU do??

Me: Uh, well… take my family away from it??

Hubby: And then what?

Me: Pray.

As an after thought I would also go beyond a place of high elevation to let the radiation rain off. But I was a bit groggy from dozing off in the vehicle. Once I was awake, we developed the “WWYD” scenario, to the flip side.

Hubby: What places would the bad guys send a nuclear bomb, and why?

Eldest: Well, high population areas, like major cities.

Me: Hmmmm…. San Andreas Fault, and Yellowstone.

Hubby: Damn honey, you are evul.

Me: Well, yeah. Oh, and add the TVA while you’re at it.

He may think of a metric ton of stuff at once, but I hone my focus to a singularity for effect. It’s a gift, not a curse 😉

Nothing Is Ever Lost

As usual, I have big plans. BIG plans. The kind of plans that require hiring some movers for a day.

I’m a dynamo but even I have limits, especially when it comes to moving a sleeper sofa down a flight of stairs.

Over the course of the next month, I will be moving Son upstairs into his own domain. He will now have his own bathroom, gaming area, study area and a nice full sized bed. Oh, and his own closet. Because he has a loft bed, the only room that had the high ceiling to accommodate it is the study, which has no closet. So, he was using the hallway closet to throw all his clothes and shoes hang up his stuff. This is how he felt when I informed him of my plan:

Anyway, in the course of preparing the upstairs for his eventual move, I decided to start organizing all of my craft stuff, as I have been intending to do for the past year. Look, it is a certain fact that messy people are very creative, and I tend to live up to that standard. As I began to organize my clutter, I began to “find” things which I had “lost”.

• Two pairs of earrings
• My mom’s old brooch
• Our tickets to the 2006 World Cup Semifinal match between Italy and Ukraine*
• Four jars of gesso
• One pair of socks
• Several graduation announcements of family members
• A coffee mug
• Three hair clips and two scrunchies
• My stash of 80’s cassettes

(* Yes, we had tickets to the semifinal match. Unfortunately, we also had non-refundable tickets to Paris, and since we were leaving for the US the following Tuesday, Paris won out. Before anyone freaks out, I offered to give up the trip to Paris for Hubby, and he decided that it would be more fun to tour Paris than to sit in a crowded stadium. So there.)

I had no idea I had so many jars of gesso. I suppose I kept thinking I had used it up and went out to get more. But I was elated to find my mom’s old brooch. I remember her wearing it to special occasions when I was little. I thought I had lost it in the move back to the US and had mourned its loss. And imagine my surprise to find my stash of cassettes. CASSETTES, PEOPLE!! There is something so satisfying about listening to a cassette that you have played so often, it is warped. Yes, I still have cassette players, and even a turntable. And now I have an urge to go listen to Warrant and Def Leppard. I’ll even wear a scrunchie while I blast “Animals” on the cassette player while I finish cleaning my craft area.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll find my UHF videocassette 😀

Tuesday Sithy

You know, if this were an actual league, I would buy jerseys and give a darn about a team, or five.

You can find them all here. Originally found at Imgur.

Now I’m off to go to the DMV to get Son’s driver’s permit. I have been trying to accomplish this for a week, which is why I have been remarkably absent around here, and which is also why y’all get a Sithy today. Otherwise I would be ranting and raving about government offices and no one has time for that 😉

The Art of the Insult

Before I begin, I wish to stress that this is a PG blog, and I do tend to monitor-slash-censor for the sake of my kids who do happen to read my blog. No I don’t force them to do so. Nor do I bribe them. I simply let curiosity get the best of them. I’m sneaky like that.

Anyway, I was watching TV last night, and heard a common and rather trendy insult being bandied about: douche bag. Now, being a gal, I am well aware of what an actual douche bag is. But I fail to see why it is considered an insult. A douche is designed as a cleansing agent, the bag HOLDS said cleansing agent. It is sterile and clean. The bag itself never becomes contaminated. It is an object that helps to aid in cleansing, people. How is THAT a bad thing? I think we are losing the art of the insult when we adopt terms from people who do not understand the true meaning of it. That’s just lazy. And we can and have done better than that. Shakespeare created hundreds of new words in his works, and we are letting them go to waste.

My blogger friend Nicki is a master of the insult. This blog post gives you an example of her linguistic prowess (warning: salty language). Just today she introduced me to another one at the social-site-with-faces. One I can’t repeat here, unfortunately. And let’s not forget our friend BC over at The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler!! As scathing as cursing can be, one doesn’t have to rely on cussing to get a good insult across. The classic “bless your heart” goes a long way towards insulting someone, but it’s rather colloquial. I used it on a friend from Philly and he thanked me for my kindness. Sigh….. My son once told a bully that he “had the vocabulary of a head of cabbage.” Before the bully could digest that, Son simply walked away and was never bothered again. Language can be like a scythe when used effectively.

So put some effort into using the vastness of the English language. Heck, just a little effort is all you need. Instead of calling someone a douche bag, call them a colostomy bag. Think about THAT for a moment, and appreciate the beauty of how devastating an insult that is 😉

Weekend Hijinks, and Why I Can’t Have a Chandelier

This past weekend was the sort-of-annual Rott Fest™, where members of the Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler blog get together to catch up and have fun. This year was no different. As we do every time at least two Rotties get together, we went to a gun range to expend a healthy amount of ammunition.

Actually this happens whether or not Rotties get together.

Anyway, esteemed K.o.R. Crunchie brought his Israeli friend Uzi for us to meet. I had met her before in Florida, but I needed a proper introduction in order to enjoy her charm. Boy howdy, was she fun. She ate 9mm with all the gusto of a coloratura soprano at a Thanksgiving feast. I almost needed a cigarette after that. Almost.

After the range, we retired to the hosts’ compound to enjoy a BBQ repast. Ok, we enjoyed an alcohol repast supplemented by BBQ. I finally got to meet long time FIF LC Staci so that was definitely a plus for me. She and I share an uncommon bond, especially when it comes to Urban Decay™. And jewelry, even home jewelry. Talking about non-weaponry items caused the gents’ eyes to glaze over, but it was still nice to talk about other things besides 9mm versus .45. She and I see eye-to-eye on the NEED of having a chandelier somewhere, anywhere in the house, but that is something Hubby will just not allow. Why? Because the room I want to put a chandelier in is the bedroom, and he is adamant on having a ceiling fan. But I may have found an acceptable compromise.

Yep, a floor lamp. I saw it on an HGTV show and now it is under my skin. Where I would put it, I have no idea. How I would buy it, no clue either. I foresee a project in my future.

So yes, we had a great time visiting old friends and making new ones, and once again I was foiled in my attempts to glamorize my bedroom. I will have to stick to the cursed ceiling fan. It’s a small price to pay for harmony 🙂

 

Saturday Sithy

I know, I know…. been too busy to entertain you ten people who bother coming by. I have been so busy I only have time for one cup of coffee in the morning lately. ONE!!!

Oh, the horror.

And…. too busy today. Have commencement to attend, so here’s a Sithy for you:

I will be back writing tomorrow. Probably after I’ve had three cups of coffee 😀