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One of many issues

  • Posted on December 12, 2011 at 10:00 am

So I have this problem. I can’t seem to be able to throw papers away. Or throw…STUFF… away, really. It piles and piles and then I move the piles around and SAY I’m going to file it where it belongs…

You know the drill. Move the piles again. Until something important gets lost and I have to go through the piles to find it. And the piles, they are prodigious. Bills. Statements. Bills.

I burned out the motor on the shredder.

I cannot throw these documents in the trash. They have shred-worthy data on them. And I take the shreds and put them in the compost pile and then my next year’s garden will be nourished by a healthy helping of paranoia.

Except for the small problem of the shredder not working.

These things don’t need to be filed; I don’t keep records like I used to. I check my bank account daily, sometimes several times a day online. I’ve gone paperless everywhere I can, pay bills through the bank’s webpage and still the piles grow.

The icing on the cake? Oh, that comes in the form of the Stuff Mama left here for me to handle. Piles upon piles of paperwork with sensitive data on it. Tax returns from 1995 to 2007. Checking statements with cancelled checks. Book after book after book after book of check duplicates.

And then finally, the solution hit me.

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Two birds, one stone

  • Posted on October 17, 2011 at 8:00 am

So waaaay back in February, I bought the house from my Mama.

Toward the first of the month, I read a post on Lifehacker ( Remove Rust from Cast Iron Cookware in your Oven ) and realized I hadn’t run the oven cleaning cycle since the paperwork was signed.

After reading that post, I realized that I could do both – clean the oven AND clean my beloved skillet.

But. I forgot about The Smoke.

You know that fog that hits you when the oven cleaning cycle runs, yeah? The odiferous cacaphony of burned cheese, casserole eruptions, and the occasional pie overflow…

That didn’t happen here.

What DID happen is the kitchen filled with smoke. The house filled with smoke. Evidently there was about two cups of oil rubbed into that skillet, and the smell and the smoke of burning oil rapidly filled the house. I missed a magnificent photo op: there was so much buildup on the skillet that it flamed up. I stared fascinated as the flames danced and went out.

I opened windows, turned on all the fans, and cussed. And cussed some more. The entire POINT of waiting so late in the day was so the residual heat would help warm things up. (the good news is that everything stopped smoking after about an hour, leaving two more hours of heating to happen.)

What it looked like after the cycle was done:

Now I get to reseason it and make a batch of pancakes. WHEE!

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Why plating is important

  • Posted on July 24, 2011 at 9:22 pm

Y’know what plating is, yeah? It’s making the food look pretty on the plate. Not so pretty that you refuse to eat it for fear of disturbing the magnificent work of art (like that would ever happen anyway) but pretty.

I read this Bean and Corn Salad recipe on Home-Ec101.com and a lightbulb went off in my head.

There’s corn in the cabinet. There’s beans. No cooking involved (during a heatwave when cooking is downright unthinkable) (and during a week when my only day off was spent buried in paperwork).

But following the recipe as written was impossible. I had corn and beans and that was it. Or…was it?

After rereading the recipe, it occurred that while I don’t have the dressing ingredients Bobbie used, I DO have a bottle of zesty italian dressing. Time to experiment a bit!

You would think that I’d make sure to grab the can of black beans, right? You would be wrong. Reached in and grabbed the first can of beans in the cabinet. Didn’t realize what a mistake it was until everything was in the bowl:

image

The good news is that it’s MUCH more tasty than it looks. The bad (?) news is that I’m the only one that’ll eat it.

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Bullet, narrowly dodged.

  • Posted on November 7, 2009 at 11:58 am
This entry is part 4 of 6 in the series Man Shopping

I have a dating site profile. It has been the source of two dates, bunches of messages and ENDLESS entertainment. You would not believe what some people will say to a complete stranger.

I’ve learned that keeping my expectations low = a decent enough date. Moderate-to-decent conversation and a meal. That’s all I ask. Impress me enough in the initial conversations and I might even offer to split the tab. (Don’t take me up on the offer though. Seriously.)

Wednesday was an abnormally busy day for me. I got the kids to school, went to the credit union to correct some paperwork, to get the puddle dancer a second pair of shoes, loaded three pieces of furniture in the truck and drove them to my uncle’s reupholstery shop outside of Charlotte. On the return trip I stopped by IKEA where I nabbed a Mikael corner desk and two Billy bookcases. I managed to hit the I-85 rush hour traffic PERFECTLY. I finally dragged my behind into the driveway, brought the furniture in the house, fed the kids and took the babysitter home.

whew

When I finally sat down in my chair and pulled up the site, the first thing I noticed was a new member in my area. I sent him a message that said “Hi, I’m Emily”. Then I told Jami what I’d done and she yelled at me (rightfully so. After countless hours of critiquing profiles and messages I know better than that) . So I messaged him again and said “Yeah…that was lame, sorry. It’s been a SUPER busy day and I’m tired.” We had an on-site IM conversation which I quickly converted to an offsite IM conversation (because every.single.time I turn on the site’s IM random stupidity splurts all over my screen.)

ANYway.

I’m really punchy, talking to THIS cute single dad when it happens. “Where are you taking me Friday night?” falls out of my mouth.

I never do that.

Not on the first conversation.

But I did this time. He handled it well, offering to take me bowling and then to Wal-Mart after midnight.

I told him I thought that was moving our relationship along  a little too fast.

He brought up drinks. I agreed that would be A Good Thing ™. We ended the conversation with no specific plans and I didn’t think anything about it other than “WOOHOO! I get out of the house with a grownup Friday!”

Thursday came and went with no word from him.

Friday arrived. I had the day off, so I did the usual day off stuff – laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning. Went to the salon for my usual gray-hiding.

Still no word.

I started to pout. Crankypissy pout.

You would too! The alternative to drinks with him was leaf blowing, lawn mowing, and bathroom scrubbing. And furniture assembly if I still had any energy left.

I sent him a message through the site. Daylight’s quickly burning away, I have a lawn to find under those leaves and if we’re not meeting for drinks I need to GET BUSY.

No reply.

Fucker.

Fine. I go crank up the blower, make a pile for Joe to jump in and get the driveways cleared. Realize that I really need to get the tarp and drag the leaves down the hill. Get the laundry going and hang out with my boys.

I don’t know why it clicked, but it did. I hadn’t googled him yet, so I did.

Oh.My.Hell.

I found his full name, Facebook, OKCupid and PlentyOfFish profile, his flixter profile, a profile on American Singles, a bunch of gaming stats (he’s a member of The 420 Crew. Eew, nothanks) and…

an entry on Don’t Date Him Girl.com

He’s had the same ad running off & on since 2007. (That’s actually worse than being a member of The 420 Crew. Be original at least, for heaven’s sake!)

The more I read, the better I felt about staying home.

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Flooring, Floored

  • Posted on August 6, 2009 at 12:41 pm
This entry is part 1 of 3 in the series I'm the man of the house.

This post is dedicated to those of you who don’t follow me on twitter. You’re missing…a lot.

It was, it is, it has been time to rip the carpets out of this house for longer than I care to admit. There will be no “before” pictures because I have to handle the carpet with gloves and I can’t have y’all calling Teh Gov’ment and tellin’ on me.

(Paranoid, remember?)

My Sainted Mama’s paperwork says this house is circa 1995-96 (different numbers in different places) and it’s the original carpet. While I fully acknowledge that it’s age and quality have a lot to do with its present condition, I still get grossed out.

Like, rip it up and go take a shower grossed out.

I started her room on July 22nd and finished it on Aug 1st. While continuing to work my usual 40ish hour job.

(Where are my pompom-carrying cheerleaders??!!??)

However, I did a picture of the ONE spot in the floor not covered by the “I’ve got my ROOM BACK!!!!” explosion of teen crap.

the laminate flooring in my daughter's room

The white strip of molding is as she wanted it (though I have no idea why)(I suspect laziness though. That or paralyzing indecision. I just *may* have passed on the inability to decide to paint the molding the wall color or the trim color to my daughter.) Optical illusion alert: the molding is sitting on top of the flooring, not another strip of molding. (could I possibly use the word “molding” in a paragraph more?)

And now I’m off to start round 2 – the boys room. (Which may or may not stay the boyS room – they’re keeping each other awake talking)

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