Google Roulette

I am playing hide and seek with my lawn guys today. They showed up this morning while I was downstairs in my jammies and I couldn't get upstairs to change clothes without being seen. This wouldn't have been so bad except they camped out at my curb for half an hour while I pretended to not be home so that I woudn't have to answer the door in my jammies.

After they left I got dressed and all was well until I had one of those uncontrollable IBS attacks that sends you straight to the bathroom and holds you captive there until it passes. Naturally, the lawn guys showed up again while I was tending to that business so all I could do was sit there and listen to them knock as I folded animal shapes into the sweat pants pooled around my ankles. It passes the time.

I should have known today would be "off" in some way because it began with trauma bright and early this morning. I use my cell phone as an alarm clock and after turning it off I usually lay in bed for a while and play on my phone until I feel like I'm alert enough to make it to the bathroom without falling down or breaking a toe on a piece of furniture. This morning I was scanning the comments on some book lovers forum that I'm not real sure how I ended up on. I wasn't really alert yet and wasn't paying attention to the conversation but I kept seeing a word that I didn't recognize. The word was "apadravya". I don't have a huge vocabulary but I know a few unusual words. I play Words With Friends. I hadn't seen this one before so I Googled it to find the definition.

For the love of all that is holy, DO NOT Google that word if you're naive like me and don't already know what it means! I am seriously scarred for life. I pulled up the wiki page and there was a nice big color photo that told me all I needed to know.

For your own safety, I will tell you that apadravya is a form of genital piercing that looks to me like it should only be performed by a urologist in a surgical setting. I just can't imagine why anyone would do that. After seeing that I spent over an hour looking at my pretty pictures on Pinterest, trying to erase the image that had been burned into my retinas.

Fortunately my afternoon has not been nearly as traumatizing as my morning was but it could have been had I not already learned my lesson about careless curiosity Googling. I'm always fascinated by those blog statistic thingies that show you what words and phrases people Googled to get to your blog. I just gave mine a once over and saw that over the past year the phrase used most often to land people on my blog was "Mama Maggie Gobran" who I wrote about in this post. That makes me happy.

However, over the past month I have attracted the most visits from people looking for "aged tattoos", an "elephant with a hangover" or "vaginal bleaching". I get the tattoo one but I honestly can't remember writing anything about a hungover elephant. I'm morbidly curious about that bleaching thing but I'm over my annual quota of accidental porn so I'm content to stay naive about that one.

Quite a few people have also found me by searching for "Buckstaff bath house infections", "pelvic rest instructions" and "his underwear drawer". These are the interests of the kind of people I attract. And now I can probably expect to add apadravya enthusiasts to the list. Yay.

People of Walmart...With Sprinkles

I've been to Walmart twice this week and my freak magnet is two for two. The other day I accidentally made eye contact with Adam the Parking Lot Evangelist as I was rolling my purchases out to my car. He started talking to me before he was even close enough for me to hear him and he was still talking ten minutes later after I had chewed my own leg off to get away from him.

Adam should get some kind of award for cramming every cheesy Christian cliche known to man into one ten minute long run-on sentence. He is on fire for the Lord, which is great, but if I didn't already know Jesus he might have sent me running in the other direction. Bless his well-meaning yet really annoying heart.

After my Adam encounter I thought I had filled my freak quota for the week but alas, I was wrong. I had to run back to Walmart tonight to grab a couple of necessities such as a container of cream cheese frosting. I knew I had lingered a bit too long in the baking aisle when the woman next to me started speaking to me despite the 'don't bother me' vibe I was intentionally radiating.

While holding a bottle of red sprinkles in one hand and yellow sprinkles in the other she asked, "Are the Texans' colors more red or blue?" When she said "red" she held up the red sprinkles and when she said "blue" she held up the yellow sprinkles. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open staring at her red and yellow sprinkles, trying to reconcile what she was asking with what I was seeing. When I failed to respond she said she thought they were more blue and she pulled a t-shirt out of her basket that was indeed blue with red and white writing on it.

I have no idea what color the Texans are nor do I even care but I was curious as to how long it would take her to realize that her blue sprinkles were yellow so I told her that I thought their colors were more blue than red. She agreed and she put the yellow sprinkles back on the shelf, tossed the red ones in her cart and rolled away.

People of Walmart, I salute you.

Breaking Bad Lost Mad Men

What can I say? It was the holidays, I got busy and forgot to blog. I could get caught up and say everything I want to in one big super long post that no one, including me, will ever read...or I can spew little bits of stream of consciousness at you whenever I happen to cough them up.

Paints a purty word picture, don't it?

I choose the latter.

I am supposed to be hauling myself downtown to drop off our rent check but I figure if I stall for about another hour I can hit rush hour traffic on the way there AND on the way back, turning a one hour errand into three hours which should be just about enough time to finish my audio book "Explosive Eighteen". I will admit to being a Stephanie Plum fan but I read the books for the mystery, not the romance. And fat free ice cream tastes just as good as the regular stuff.

So I don't really watch TV, right? I have nothing against TV, I just don't have the attention span it takes to commit to a series and there's rarely anything good on. We've watched just about all the movies on the Netflix streaming thing, so a few months ago we moved to TV shows. Jayson and I watched the entire "Lost series". I realize we are probably the only people with indoor plumbing who haven't seen the show but again...I'm not good with series-es because I can't remember to watch them every week. If I do happen to remember, I get easily distracted, miss important information, lose track of the plot, then give up and go craft something.

"Lost" was really good. I'd watch it again. All 6 years of it. It can be done over the span of a couple of weeks if you're really committed. I like shows with the good vs. evil premise and with characters who surprise you. You were never quite sure which side Benjamin Linus and John Locke were on. You were also never quite sure what in the heck was going on. The island wasn't really explained until something like the third from the last episode of the whole series. I liked that. It wasn't easy to figure out. It was also somewhat of a letdown because it wasn't nearly as awesome as I had imagined but then again, I can imagine pretty darn good.

I also like that "Lost" was nonlinear. It started at the beginning but it jumped around a lot to give you the back stories of the main characters. It had foreshadowing, back stories, and even a parallel thing happening but still managed to make sense. That's good writing. And I always get excited when characters or story lines intersect unexpectedly like in "2 Days in The Valley" or "Pulp Fiction".

One of my favorite movies ever is "Memento" which is not only nonlinear, it is chronologically reversed. Lots of movies start at the end the go back to the beginning and work their way to the end again. That's old hat. But "Memento" starts at the end and works its way back to the beginning. That's some genius writing right there. And besides, I practically live that guy's life with the memory loss thing.

"Breaking Bad" is some of the best TV ever. The writing and the directing are amazing. I'm not sure if this is what the writers intended, but it makes me want to cook meth. Am I the only one? Not that it glorifies the life of drug dealers or anything, but it shows this average guy doing something so completely unexpected and out of character. It's frightening but exciting. And illegal but still...

I'm convinced that I could cook some good meth. And the drug dealers would like me because I would be nice to them and people usually treat you the same way you treat them. And I could probably make even more money than Walter White because he obviously doesn't know a thing about marketing. Have you seen those awful plain plastic bags he uses for his product? Atrocious! My meth would be delivered in a lovely handmade gift bag with a matching card thanking the buyer for their purchase. I would also have a frequent shopper's card that would get punched with every pound purchased. After every 10 pounds they buyer would get a coupon worth 25% off their next purchase. That's how you keep your customers happy. It's all about marketing.

And all of my deals or transactions or whatever they're called would take place at Starbuck's because everyone in there is too self absorbed to notice what's going on around them. It has to be a public place so I don't end up in a car crusher at the junk yard.  I hate it when my hair goes flat. See how street smart I am?

I could totally do this and no one would suspect. Plus I've seen enough of the show to know some of the ingredients that I would need and I already have them on hand. All you need is some sinus pills (got tons of those), acetone (I buy the all-acetone nail polish remover), some matches, fertilizer and chili powder. I'm sure I can get all those beakers and stuff at American Science and Surplus. I'm all set.

Right now I'm on the 4th season of Mad Men and I have to say that I'm a little disappointed in this one...especially after all the hype I've heard. The set design, costumes, props and pop culture references from the 60s are fantastic. I was born in the 60s so I didn't really experience it but when I look at family photos they look just like the set of Mad Men. Well...except for the whole Madison Avenue thing. Every time I see a pregnant woman on the show chugging a glass of wine and chain smoking I think, "that's my mom!!"

Most of the show is less about advertising and more about who Don Draper will sleep with next. He gets jiggy with someone different almost every week, lies to his wife about his past, smokes 2 packs a day and stumbles home drunk after work. I just keep thinking to myself...Oh my gosh, is this what it was like for Darrin Stephens? Did Samantha know? I always knew Larry Tate was a playa.

One Woman's Trash is Another Woman's...Trash

I survived Thanksgiving with my extended family and came out of it with minimal emotional scarring. The last two times I've stayed at my mother's house have been the only two times in the past 45 25 years that I've stayed with her and not wanted to kill her. I don't know if she's mellowing in her old age or if I'm maturing in mine. Either way, we seem to get along better now than we ever have. I love my mother dearly but she can be extremely difficult to get along with.

My sister ratted me out and told Mom that I talk about her on Facebook. Mom told me not to do that anymore and being the obedient daughter that I am I assured her that I would not talk about her on Facebook as soon as I got home. I didn't say that I would never talk about her on Facebook, just that I wouldn't do it right when I got home. And I certainly didn't say that I wouldn't blog about her. I am the evil good child.

Mom's birthday is a few days after Thanksgiving and for her gift she asked me if I would reupholster a small stool that's in her bedroom. It was there when she bought the house for my grandparents 30 years ago and it still had the original orange and brown vinyl covering. I told her I would be glad to cover her stool so went to the fabric store on Black Friday where she picked out the second most hideous Asian brocade in the store.

I borrowed a staple gun and cordless drill from my sister Shamayn then spent maybe 20 minutes stapling the new fabric and batting over the old vinyl. When it was done you would have thought I just presented Mom with a priceless Ming vase. (You have to pronounce that "voz".) She loved her stool and I loved not hearing her nag me about it anymore. Everybody wins.

Since her retirement Mom has been working hard to declutter her house and get rid of a lot of unnecessary junk she's accumulated over the years. Some of the unnecessary junk includes things like non-working refrigerators and a trash compactor left over from the 70s. The fridge was easy, she was ready to get rid of that. But the trash compactor took some persuasion. Fortunately Shamayn handled that. Mom insisted that she needed to keep the trash compactor so she could compact bulky trash. The only problem with that is that she hasn't even opened the thing for at least 15 years. She hangs grocery bags from one of the knobs on the outside of the machine and uses that for her "trash can".

I don't know how Shamayn did it but she finally convinced Mom that the compactor had to go. Not knowing what to do for a trash can, and since she was used to having a grocery sack hanging from an appliance, Mom hung a grocery sack from the handle on her (working) fridge and was quite content with that setup. She always has plenty of extra plastic grocery bags because when she goes to the store she tells the bag boy to pack them light. If he doesn't comply, she will elbow him out of the way and show him that one tube of toothpaste and a Sally Hansen facial waxing kit are enough to fill one bag and no bag should be any fuller than that.

When we got to her house and saw the new trash system, Jayson immediately offered to go buy Mom a nice trash can. She nearly had a hysterical fit and absolutely forbade him to do any such thing. She liked her system, she liked the small bags, she liked to schlep the bags out to the big can under the carport every 15 minutes. And apparently she liked having trash hanging from the door of the fridge where where she keeps her food. Yuck. To maintain the illusion of peace, we let it go.

We weren't able to stay long enough for Mom's birthday but she sent me a text this morning and told me what Shamayn gave her. Shamayn's really good with gifts and holidays and all that. I barely remember to acknowledge a birthday and I rarely produce a gift. Gifts are not my love language so I don't really care if I ever get one or not but unfortunately I tend to forget that not everyone is like that. Plus, Shamayn is just more thoughtful than me.

The first text from Mom was a picture of a very nice trash can sitting where her compactor used to be. I told her I loved it, I like where it's sitting, and it looks like it's small enough so she can still empty it every 15 minutes if she wants to.

Here is our text exchange about the trash can:

MOM: Mayn got me a trash can at Bed & Bath. It's made to hold grocery bags with hooks on the front and back. I told her I didn't want one. Jayson wanted to get me one and I said no. Mayn said I had to have one. That's where she put it and she said I have to use it.

ME: Okay, it's just gross to have your trash hanging on the front of your fridge where you keep your food. Trash belongs in a trash can. Get used to it.

MOM: Well it's small so I can keep it empty. You step on a pad to open it. I don't have to buy bags. I don't have to touch it except to empty it. I don't really have to look at it. I guess it's okay. At least I have my stool.

ME: Go comfort yourself with your stool.

All I can say is thank God for Mayn.

Happy Hookers, The Critter Fixer, and Pringles Duck Mouth Kisses

I woke up with a "lady trouble" induced migraine this morning which killed all the wonderful plans I had for the day, including the Home for The Holidays Gift Market in Katy and Discovery Green Flea.

The migraine has been downgraded to a plain ol' nagging headache but it has upset my tummy enough to make me leery of leaving the house. So.... I thought I'd use this time to update my poor lil neglected blog. We've had house guests the past two weekends in a row so that means I've had to give my attention to my live friends instead of my virtual ones. Hence the blog neglect. Not that my live friends are more important than my virtual ones, they're just harder to ignore when they're in my face.

Since it's been about 3 weeks since my last update and since it takes a minimum of 10,000 words for me to describe one 24 hour period in which I do absolutely nothing, I think I will spare you as much commentary as possible and make this a photo journal. Uploading and arranging photos can be way more time consuming than typing out my stream of consciousness so that should tell you how much I am putting your needs before my own. I'm just a giver like that.

A friend was archiving some old photos and posted this one on Facebook of me and another friend doing what comes naturally when we eat Pringles.

I have a small collection of retro Delft ceramics. I buy them on eBay when I can find a piece I don't already have for under $20.

 

 

 

 

I didn't have any candlesticks and I still don't because the eBay seller shipped them in a store brand popcorn box. They probably would have made here just fine in a Pop Secret box.

To the seller's credit she did give me an immediate refund. I couldn't just toss out all that lovely broken ceramic so I'm making jewelry out of it.

Remember this tulle "valance" I hung with thumbtacks and was trying to decide what to cover the tacks with?

I've decided they needed to be covered with vintage brooches. It'll take me a while to collect enough to cover all the tacks but I'm checking eBay daily to find what I want in my price range.

I like to find really cheap broken brooches that need a little TLC.

Replace a few stones, polish it up and it'll pass.

This poor little Sarah Coventry earring had all kinds of issues, including a piece that broke off in my hand.

I changed out some stones and will use it as part of a jewelry "collage" to hide the missing piece.

This is my most recent creation for The Build Zone class.

The triangular part of the focal was an old metal earring that I pounded flat. The large vintage rhinestone is mounted on a small rectangular piece of steel that I found in a parking lot. The vintage earring at the top also serves as a hanger for the necklace. I got that little hook thing in the fishing department at Wal Mart. Jewelry supplies are everywhere!

Here's a close up of how the screw back earring is used as a hanger. I drilled a hole in the triangle piece then snipped off the round end of the screw post. I screwed the post all the way through the hole and secured everything with Ice Resin which also seals it to keep it from tarnishing.

Our friends from Lafayette came for a visit (which requires its own blog entry later) and Jamie tried to teach me how to crochet this hat.

This is how mine turned out. I had an excellent teacher but the yarn I used was different from hers which made my hat come out too small for a human head. It made a nice little drawstring pouch, tho.

I even lined the pouch (as best I could) and will probably give it to someone for Christmas. I might even include a piece of jewelry.

Jamie and I found a yarn shop called The Hen House, which was conveniently located next to the Critter Fixer Pet Hospital.

The Hen House had all kinds of upscale pricey fru fru yarns as well as classy little doodads like this.

While our friends were here we also went to the little antique shop up the street from me where I scored this awesome mirror. It was really inexpensive compared to others I've seen like it but that's probably because there are a couple of swirly pieces broken off the frame. I'll just sand those to make them look like they're supposed to be that way and paint them to match. No one will know :)

Remember this little guy from this post?

Guess who got to come home with me?! I told myself I'd leave it at the shop for a couple of weeks and if it was still there when I went back I'd take it as a divine sign from God that I'm supposed to buy it. I went back, it was there, I was obedient to God's will for me to have this lovely vintage scale.

I will start working on another photo journal type blog entry that will show some of the highlights of our recent visit with friends. These highlights will include our trip to the Blue Bell factory (aka heaven) in Brenham, a little shopping excursion to the Harwin Central Mart, and a couple of sightseeing excursions including the impossible to describe Orange Show as well as the sights and sounds and aromas of The Flower Man's house. Oh the aromas. They were anything but floral.