I have been poking around the Internet a lot lately, looking for random awesome things to try. I got inspired around Christmas and have slowly expanded my adventures in the homemade and crafty. Some of the projects have turned out totally cool, some have been kind of weird, and some took forever to make until I discovered a quicker way that looked better anyway...right before I was done...
You find a lot of rad things that are really nifty or yummy or inexpensive and work better and that is THE BEST. Then you come across things that, for some reason totally creep you out. Or sound disgusting. Or that you simply refuse to try because at some point, you have to draw the line. These are a few things I have come across that made me say...erm...No thank you...
1) Ketchup. I have heard just enough about how ketchup is made to know that I don't want to know how ketchup is really made.
2) Toothpaste. With coupons and sales, toothpaste is one of the easiest things to get for free or really cheap. We had about 10 tubes, got most of 'em for free, and then realized that 10 was borderline crazy, and sent some of them to my brother. Therefore, I am fine with store bought toothpaste. Plus, what if it turned out creepy?? I couldn't throw it away because every time you waste something a unicorn dies...this is a true story...
3) Lip Balm. First of all, the entire thing just sounds weird, and second, who has the patience to smash that stuff into those tiny little tubes?? Not me, that's who.
4) Deodorant. Really? This not something you want to take a chance on not working. Don't believe me? Let's take a walk and keep track of the stank/non-stank ratio of people around here. It's not good. Plus, I am not embarrassed to say that I have about 8 deodorants in my stockpile cabinet (although maybe I should be), and I payed less than 2 bucks for all of them. No, not each, don't forget who you're talking to. I paid less than 2 bucks for all 8.
5) Cold/Cough Syrup. Let's look at the ingredient list, shall we? Onions. Raw honey. Cloves. Ginger. Slippery elm. Notice there is no sleep crack in there, only the most important thing in the store bought stuff. And I don't care HOW sick I am, I don't want to be swilling on onion juice, but thanks anyway.
6) Mayonnaise. Although I love mayo on sandwiches, burgers, and french fries, I was once scarred for life when I encountered a 5 gallon bucket of mayo in the walk in fridge at Negri's when I worked there. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't bad, or spoiled, or sitting there with no lid. It was fine. Everything was all normal and OK. The cook was getting some out when I walked in to get some limes or something. The point is that it was 5 gallons of mayonnaise. I was just not prepared for that quantity of mayonnaise. So I don't want to be stirring it, or cooking it, or have anything to do with too personally. GAG.
There are a bunch of other things too, homemade Nutella, yogurt, stuff like that. Too weird, too complicated, and too weird. And don't you think the yogurt could turn out really really bad really really easily? I like experimenting with making my own stuff, but I certainly don't want to die for my craft!!!
Monday, February 6, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
Retro "Why I DON'T Think I Should Get Out More" Blog
**This a blog from last year...I was reminded of it this morning**
We moved out to the boonies when I was going into the 3rd grade. I was just citified enough for my new step brothers to have a great time scaring the beejeezus out of me, but I was also just bratty and spoiled enough to enjoy the hell out of them getting into trouble when I tattled…but something happened over the years as I grew up at the end of that 3 mile dirt driveway. The boys all ended up moving to town, the step brothers with their mom, and my big brother with our father (little bro, you weren't born quite yet), so I sort of grew up as an only child of sorts, riding motorcycles and raising pigs, and as a result have turned out different from any of my siblings. I’m the hillbilly of the family. I like the quiet and solitude of the country. I don’t have much use for the city life. Sure, maybe to visit, or even live for a little while, but I always end up back here in the sticks.
I, like everyone else, have taken a figurative beating in late 2010 and so far in 0’11. Got my uterus removed, lost my job, had to move, was tragically broke…all at the same time. We got settled into this new place and I’ll be damned if I haven’t turned into a hermit. But so what?? What’s wrong with staying at home? It’s free, for one. You don’t have to get out of your jammies, or listen to anyone’s crap, or get anyone’s cooties on you. I’m good at home.
Well, circumstances brought us to San Francisco the other day. It’s about an hour and half away, so we left early, did what we had to do, then decided to stop by Haight St because we had found some really rad vintage stores on a previous journey (I like to take weekend trips to cities, SF, Reno, stuff like that. Don’t ask me to go camping in the woods, I live there).
Ever tried to park a full size Chevy in San Francisco? I haven’t, but I must say, BF did a splendid job…but this was after about 20 laps around various blocks. That’s OK, the buildings are hella cool to look at. We don’t have those where I come from. We have redwoods. Anyway…BF was starving, so after we forgot to put $ in the parking meter (we don’t have those where I come from either) we walked down to the McDonald’s. We got our food and went to a table around the corner, in an area of the restaurant that BF referred to as “less crack-like.”
We sat down and started our fine dining experience. Mostly eating, not much talking, we had some ‘sploring to do!!! BF and I both noticed when 2 hobos came in and sat down across from us…about 12 feet, I’d say. No big whoop, when I see a hobo, I don’t immediately think “terrible person.” All I can say in hindsight is “Meetzar, you silly, silly little naive child!!!” But anyway… woman hobo had her arm in a sling, so man hobo had to open her drink for her (they brought their own), then threw the bag on the floor behind him. I thought, “Ass,” and kept on eating until I heard a splash near me, then another. I thought man hobo was throwing the drink across the room and I was about to become seriously pissed that he came so close to getting it on my shoes when I realized 2 things in slow motion: one, it was pink and two, he was barfing across the room. I haven’t seen that since my kiddo was a baby and projectile vomited over my shoulder, across the counter and onto the kitchen floor, but anyway…
REALLY!!?!?! What in the holy horsefeathers are the chances of the one person that everyone says should get off that hill, out of the trees, go see some stuff, enjoy public again (namely, me) getting almost-barfed on the one time all year she left the county??? Do you believe in signs from above? Can you say, “Validation??” I think I’ll stay in the sticks, thanks. The redwoods may be messy, but at least they don’t barf on you!!!
We moved out to the boonies when I was going into the 3rd grade. I was just citified enough for my new step brothers to have a great time scaring the beejeezus out of me, but I was also just bratty and spoiled enough to enjoy the hell out of them getting into trouble when I tattled…but something happened over the years as I grew up at the end of that 3 mile dirt driveway. The boys all ended up moving to town, the step brothers with their mom, and my big brother with our father (little bro, you weren't born quite yet), so I sort of grew up as an only child of sorts, riding motorcycles and raising pigs, and as a result have turned out different from any of my siblings. I’m the hillbilly of the family. I like the quiet and solitude of the country. I don’t have much use for the city life. Sure, maybe to visit, or even live for a little while, but I always end up back here in the sticks.
I, like everyone else, have taken a figurative beating in late 2010 and so far in 0’11. Got my uterus removed, lost my job, had to move, was tragically broke…all at the same time. We got settled into this new place and I’ll be damned if I haven’t turned into a hermit. But so what?? What’s wrong with staying at home? It’s free, for one. You don’t have to get out of your jammies, or listen to anyone’s crap, or get anyone’s cooties on you. I’m good at home.
Well, circumstances brought us to San Francisco the other day. It’s about an hour and half away, so we left early, did what we had to do, then decided to stop by Haight St because we had found some really rad vintage stores on a previous journey (I like to take weekend trips to cities, SF, Reno, stuff like that. Don’t ask me to go camping in the woods, I live there).
Ever tried to park a full size Chevy in San Francisco? I haven’t, but I must say, BF did a splendid job…but this was after about 20 laps around various blocks. That’s OK, the buildings are hella cool to look at. We don’t have those where I come from. We have redwoods. Anyway…BF was starving, so after we forgot to put $ in the parking meter (we don’t have those where I come from either) we walked down to the McDonald’s. We got our food and went to a table around the corner, in an area of the restaurant that BF referred to as “less crack-like.”
We sat down and started our fine dining experience. Mostly eating, not much talking, we had some ‘sploring to do!!! BF and I both noticed when 2 hobos came in and sat down across from us…about 12 feet, I’d say. No big whoop, when I see a hobo, I don’t immediately think “terrible person.” All I can say in hindsight is “Meetzar, you silly, silly little naive child!!!” But anyway… woman hobo had her arm in a sling, so man hobo had to open her drink for her (they brought their own), then threw the bag on the floor behind him. I thought, “Ass,” and kept on eating until I heard a splash near me, then another. I thought man hobo was throwing the drink across the room and I was about to become seriously pissed that he came so close to getting it on my shoes when I realized 2 things in slow motion: one, it was pink and two, he was barfing across the room. I haven’t seen that since my kiddo was a baby and projectile vomited over my shoulder, across the counter and onto the kitchen floor, but anyway…
REALLY!!?!?! What in the holy horsefeathers are the chances of the one person that everyone says should get off that hill, out of the trees, go see some stuff, enjoy public again (namely, me) getting almost-barfed on the one time all year she left the county??? Do you believe in signs from above? Can you say, “Validation??” I think I’ll stay in the sticks, thanks. The redwoods may be messy, but at least they don’t barf on you!!!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
The Story of Why I am so Mean to the Wrong Number Lady
As I typed that title and hit "enter," my phone started ringing. I thought it was HER. I hate her. She drives me insane. Who is she? She is some stupid lady that is CONVINCED that my phone number belongs to one of her friends. And just in case I am one of her friends pretending that I am not, she calls every couple of weeks. Like I am going to forget her number. Thankfully though, it wasn't her. YAY!!
It all started about a year ago. I got a call for Nancy. "No, you have the wrong number but have a nice day," I said. So she asked for Yvonne. "No, wrong number." then I hear, "Well, is this Sara?"
Let me tell you something about me. I am a lot nicer than I lead people to believe. I have a reputation for not taking any shit, but I was ringleader (bartender) at a circus (bar) for what? 13 years? What does one expect, for me to NEVER have had to yell at ANYONE for misbehaving? I WISH!!! ANYway, basically people get 2 freebies. The third time is the charm. So when this woman asked for Sara I hollered in the phone, "You f****** have the f******wrong f****** number!!!" Then I pressed that END button as hard as I could because slamming the phone down to hang it up is no longer an option, which sucks!!!
So you can probably imagine my surprise when my phone started ringing again. Same number. *Sigh* I answered like a normal person, "Hello?" She started asking me if I was supposed to meet Nancy for lunch. I said, very maturely I think, "I DON'T EAT LUNCH, STOP F****** CALLING ME, YOU CRAZY OLD WOMAN," and hung up again. Then, a few minutes later, RRRRING!!! Actually my phone plays a song, but you know what I mean...
That's when normal people would answer, threaten the woman, her children, her pets, everything if she ever calls your number ever again. I didn't do that. I pretty much just repeated the stop calling me mantra and hung up again. PHEW, that seemed to work! Halleloo!!!
Cut to a couple of weeks later, she called again. Once asking for someone, again asking for someone else, then on the third call she didn't have a chance to say anything because someone (me) was yelling in her ear to get my number out of her phone.
This happened every few weeks. BF knew about it, and the Kiddo knew about it too, because Wrong Number Lady had called a few times when they were home and I had to explain why I was hollering into my phone like an angry fool...basically because this was really starting to piss me off!!
I've been sick the past few days, so I was already totally grumped out when my phone rang the other day. I recognized the number and I was ready. I mean really, if you had a phone number in your phone, and every time you called that number you got yelled at, wouldn't you get one of your grandkids to get that number out of your phone for you? Apparantly not. SO, this time she asked for Deb when I said hello. So I told her, "No, I killed Deb, don't call this number," and waited for the second call. "Helloooo?" I said. W.N. Lady asked for Becky this time. I said, "Nope, I killed her too, quit interrupting me while I am trying to dispose of the bodies!!!" And I thought that would be it. NOPE!!! She called again, so as per usual, she got cursed and yelled at. As I said on Facebook, I really wish I wouldn't have done that. I am SO curious as to what in the holy horsefeathers she was thinking when she called back after finding out her two friends got imaginarily killed, and I can barely sleep at night because of it. I also wish I would have offered to remove my phone number from her phone, possibly with my truck. And I ALSO wish I was mean enough to REALLY ask where she lived so I could bang pots and pans together in her front yard at 3am because that is my go-to cure for everything. I have yet to try it, but I am SURE I would teach a bunch of lessons with that method!!
Hopefully this is over. Hopefully she doesn't call me anymore. The funny thing is, I think I just might know who W.N. Lady is (don't ask, I will never ever tell. EVER). The OTHER funny thing is, judging from the names she asked for, I am guessing she was looking for drugs. So if she ever calls me again, I may just give in and sell her some baking soda. Or corn starch. Or sugar. Or flour. Or powdered hazelnut creamer. I'll have to ask, because I don't know what the crap looks like, but I am beginning to think that I am going about this all wrong...
It all started about a year ago. I got a call for Nancy. "No, you have the wrong number but have a nice day," I said. So she asked for Yvonne. "No, wrong number." then I hear, "Well, is this Sara?"
Let me tell you something about me. I am a lot nicer than I lead people to believe. I have a reputation for not taking any shit, but I was ringleader (bartender) at a circus (bar) for what? 13 years? What does one expect, for me to NEVER have had to yell at ANYONE for misbehaving? I WISH!!! ANYway, basically people get 2 freebies. The third time is the charm. So when this woman asked for Sara I hollered in the phone, "You f****** have the f******wrong f****** number!!!" Then I pressed that END button as hard as I could because slamming the phone down to hang it up is no longer an option, which sucks!!!
So you can probably imagine my surprise when my phone started ringing again. Same number. *Sigh* I answered like a normal person, "Hello?" She started asking me if I was supposed to meet Nancy for lunch. I said, very maturely I think, "I DON'T EAT LUNCH, STOP F****** CALLING ME, YOU CRAZY OLD WOMAN," and hung up again. Then, a few minutes later, RRRRING!!! Actually my phone plays a song, but you know what I mean...
That's when normal people would answer, threaten the woman, her children, her pets, everything if she ever calls your number ever again. I didn't do that. I pretty much just repeated the stop calling me mantra and hung up again. PHEW, that seemed to work! Halleloo!!!
Cut to a couple of weeks later, she called again. Once asking for someone, again asking for someone else, then on the third call she didn't have a chance to say anything because someone (me) was yelling in her ear to get my number out of her phone.
This happened every few weeks. BF knew about it, and the Kiddo knew about it too, because Wrong Number Lady had called a few times when they were home and I had to explain why I was hollering into my phone like an angry fool...basically because this was really starting to piss me off!!
I've been sick the past few days, so I was already totally grumped out when my phone rang the other day. I recognized the number and I was ready. I mean really, if you had a phone number in your phone, and every time you called that number you got yelled at, wouldn't you get one of your grandkids to get that number out of your phone for you? Apparantly not. SO, this time she asked for Deb when I said hello. So I told her, "No, I killed Deb, don't call this number," and waited for the second call. "Helloooo?" I said. W.N. Lady asked for Becky this time. I said, "Nope, I killed her too, quit interrupting me while I am trying to dispose of the bodies!!!" And I thought that would be it. NOPE!!! She called again, so as per usual, she got cursed and yelled at. As I said on Facebook, I really wish I wouldn't have done that. I am SO curious as to what in the holy horsefeathers she was thinking when she called back after finding out her two friends got imaginarily killed, and I can barely sleep at night because of it. I also wish I would have offered to remove my phone number from her phone, possibly with my truck. And I ALSO wish I was mean enough to REALLY ask where she lived so I could bang pots and pans together in her front yard at 3am because that is my go-to cure for everything. I have yet to try it, but I am SURE I would teach a bunch of lessons with that method!!
Hopefully this is over. Hopefully she doesn't call me anymore. The funny thing is, I think I just might know who W.N. Lady is (don't ask, I will never ever tell. EVER). The OTHER funny thing is, judging from the names she asked for, I am guessing she was looking for drugs. So if she ever calls me again, I may just give in and sell her some baking soda. Or corn starch. Or sugar. Or flour. Or powdered hazelnut creamer. I'll have to ask, because I don't know what the crap looks like, but I am beginning to think that I am going about this all wrong...
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