So either the crockpot is the safest kitchen appliance EVER or I am one lucky girl. Seriously.
Yesterday I decided to make a crockpot meal because, let's face it, it's so much easier to dump a bunch of ingredients in a slow cooker, let them cook themselves, and then move on with your day than it is to actually cook dinner. So I pulled the crockpot from the closet, threw in my ingredients, put it on low and left for the day.
For the DAY.
The meal magically cooked itself, as all crockpot meals do. We happily ate and I went to start cleaning up the mess. I noticed as I spooned the remainder of the Swiss Casserole Chicken into a bowl that the stoneware didn't seem to be level in the bottom of the heating base. I didn't think much of it. Until I removed the stoneware.
And realized that a Swiffer Duster Refill had somehow landed in the heating base. It was just laying there. It wasn't even burnt. I suppose I could have kept it and used it but I was so shocked to find it in there that I threw it away (as quickly as I could without hubs noticing what I was pulling from the crockpot).
So, one of two things happened. Either I'm crazy and I store my swiffer duster refills in my crockpot OR when my mom came to visit and we hastily cleaned up the kitchen, MH saw the duster refill laying out, threw it in the closet (with it landing in the heating base) and I then threw the stoneware in the heating base, you know, where it GOES, without realizing the swiffer refill was in there because I'm short and couldn't actually see into the base.
My bet is the second scenerio is what happened.
Either way, my house did not catch on fire and I am very thankful for that.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
My Aunt Died
It's actually not fair for me to spring that on you like that. She didn't die recently. She died almost 2 years ago (well, a year and a half - she died in June of 2009). Then I had another aunt die last June. Actually, if you are reading this, and you are my aunt, my best advice is lock yourself in your home for the month of June. Or not...since both aunts died in their home...
Anyway, to the point. My aunt died in June of 2009. My aunt also had a facebook account like every other person in this world, except my grandmothers, they don't do facebook...yet. Obviously we were facebook friends. We also have quite a few mutual friends, some friends who requested I be their friend after my aunt died.
My aunt and I have one shared friend in particular. We'll call her Judy because that's her name. Judy likes to play all those facebook games. You know, Farmville, CafeWorld, I-have-no-life-so-I-am-going-to-play-on-facebook-all-day-and-pretend-I-do-Land. And like all other annoying facebook game players, Judy sends requests to everyone.
Everyone, that is, except me because I have FINALLY figured out how to block people from asking me to nail them...or whatever it is they want me to do.
Judy sends these requests almost daily to my dead aunt. And everyday when I log in I see "Judy just sent [your aunt] a pie in CafeWorld!" or "Judy wants [your aunt] to come milk her cows in Farmville!" or whatever other thing you do in those games. Every time my aunt's name pops up it...kind of hurts. Because she's not there to accept the damn pie and she can't milk a cow, especially not on the freaking computer (hello! Does anyone else find these games as stupid as I do???).
Recently Judy posted on Aunt's wall and said: "Dearest [M's Aunt]: I know you know my intention is honorable. I keep sending you stuff cause it helps me keep your memory alive. There are people who find it to be disrespectful and cruel....but I don't mean it that way. You know that. I know that. Your husband knows that. It is all that matters."
Um, really? Sending her a freaking pie on facebook is keeping her memory alive? Try again Judy. Why don't you just admit that when the little box pops up that says "These are your friends playing [whatever game]...who do you want to send [something] to?" you pick my aunt every.single.time because her name is on the list and you pick EVERYONE on the list. We're not stupid. Keep her memory alive by putting her picture up in your house, not by flooding her facebook wall with stupid game requests she can't answer! Especially since her teenage son is also on facebook and sees these stupid game requests you send her, just like I see them.
A part of me would like to get Aunt's password from her husband and log in to her account and start responding to all those requests. Then post on Judy's wall: "Thank you so much for working so hard to keep my memory alive. Just for that I've decided to come back from the dead. And haunt you. Sweet dreams!"
Anyway, to the point. My aunt died in June of 2009. My aunt also had a facebook account like every other person in this world, except my grandmothers, they don't do facebook...yet. Obviously we were facebook friends. We also have quite a few mutual friends, some friends who requested I be their friend after my aunt died.
My aunt and I have one shared friend in particular. We'll call her Judy because that's her name. Judy likes to play all those facebook games. You know, Farmville, CafeWorld, I-have-no-life-so-I-am-going-to-play-on-facebook-all-day-and-pretend-I-do-Land. And like all other annoying facebook game players, Judy sends requests to everyone.
Everyone, that is, except me because I have FINALLY figured out how to block people from asking me to nail them...or whatever it is they want me to do.
Judy sends these requests almost daily to my dead aunt. And everyday when I log in I see "Judy just sent [your aunt] a pie in CafeWorld!" or "Judy wants [your aunt] to come milk her cows in Farmville!" or whatever other thing you do in those games. Every time my aunt's name pops up it...kind of hurts. Because she's not there to accept the damn pie and she can't milk a cow, especially not on the freaking computer (hello! Does anyone else find these games as stupid as I do???).
Recently Judy posted on Aunt's wall and said: "Dearest [M's Aunt]: I know you know my intention is honorable. I keep sending you stuff cause it helps me keep your memory alive. There are people who find it to be disrespectful and cruel....but I don't mean it that way. You know that. I know that. Your husband knows that. It is all that matters."
Um, really? Sending her a freaking pie on facebook is keeping her memory alive? Try again Judy. Why don't you just admit that when the little box pops up that says "These are your friends playing [whatever game]...who do you want to send [something] to?" you pick my aunt every.single.time because her name is on the list and you pick EVERYONE on the list. We're not stupid. Keep her memory alive by putting her picture up in your house, not by flooding her facebook wall with stupid game requests she can't answer! Especially since her teenage son is also on facebook and sees these stupid game requests you send her, just like I see them.
A part of me would like to get Aunt's password from her husband and log in to her account and start responding to all those requests. Then post on Judy's wall: "Thank you so much for working so hard to keep my memory alive. Just for that I've decided to come back from the dead. And haunt you. Sweet dreams!"
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Adventures in Renovations
I mentioned earlier that my life was in disarray because of my kitchen being remodeled. And then I got stuck at home with no appliances or sinks due to a snow storm. But then suddenly it was over.
But the most important part of this is WHO was doing the renovations. They were very nice men. But after they left I had the overwhelming desire to clean my kitchen. With bleach. When the hubs came home and saw me, with latex gloves on, a bucket of bleach and on my hands and knees scrubbing he just stared. Then finally...
Hubs: "What are you doing?"
Me: "Disinfecting."
Hubs: "Exactly what is our floor infected with?"
Me: "Butt Lesions, obviously." (I realize NOW this was probably not an obvious infection of our ceramic tile).
Hubs: "And where did the tile get butt lesions?"
Me: "From the contractor. HE has butt lesions."
Hubs: "How do you know?"
Me: "Really? That's what you want to ask right now? You don't want to know if the butt lesions are infected with like herpes or Malaria? Do you not realize I am trying to SAVE our LIVES?"
Hubs: "Well, are they?"
Me: "How would I know? I didn't ask for a sample of the man's butt lesions!"
Hubs: "How do you know he has butt lesions?"
Me: "Because I am pretty sure he moonlights as a plumber."
To me, that OBVIOUSLY means he doesn't wear a belt. Or suspenders. Or freaking underwear that covers his crack. To Hubs that meant I hired him to do plumbing...
Hubs: "So he....was working on the toilet?"
Me: "Don't be ridiculous. He puts in tile."
Hubs: "Then how do you know of the butt lesions?"
Me: "Aaron told me!" (Aaron is a co-worker - a married co-worker who likes women).
Hubs: "And he knows because..."
Me: "You pay no attention. Aaron SAW the butt lesions when he was bent over."
Hubs: "Nevermind...I don't REALLY need to know...."
But the most important part of this is WHO was doing the renovations. They were very nice men. But after they left I had the overwhelming desire to clean my kitchen. With bleach. When the hubs came home and saw me, with latex gloves on, a bucket of bleach and on my hands and knees scrubbing he just stared. Then finally...
Hubs: "What are you doing?"
Me: "Disinfecting."
Hubs: "Exactly what is our floor infected with?"
Me: "Butt Lesions, obviously." (I realize NOW this was probably not an obvious infection of our ceramic tile).
Hubs: "And where did the tile get butt lesions?"
Me: "From the contractor. HE has butt lesions."
Hubs: "How do you know?"
Me: "Really? That's what you want to ask right now? You don't want to know if the butt lesions are infected with like herpes or Malaria? Do you not realize I am trying to SAVE our LIVES?"
Hubs: "Well, are they?"
Me: "How would I know? I didn't ask for a sample of the man's butt lesions!"
Hubs: "How do you know he has butt lesions?"
Me: "Because I am pretty sure he moonlights as a plumber."
To me, that OBVIOUSLY means he doesn't wear a belt. Or suspenders. Or freaking underwear that covers his crack. To Hubs that meant I hired him to do plumbing...
Hubs: "So he....was working on the toilet?"
Me: "Don't be ridiculous. He puts in tile."
Hubs: "Then how do you know of the butt lesions?"
Me: "Aaron told me!" (Aaron is a co-worker - a married co-worker who likes women).
Hubs: "And he knows because..."
Me: "You pay no attention. Aaron SAW the butt lesions when he was bent over."
Hubs: "Nevermind...I don't REALLY need to know...."
Know Thy Enemies, Part 6
After I returned for Christmas break, things went down hill. First, the day I returned was also the day of a wake for a fellow law student’s father. I wasn’t close to the law student so I didn’t think I should go. Enemy went though, and Kristy went with her. Kristy was trying to make amends and be friends with everyone.
Kristy told me that night, while they were at Enemy’s mom’s house (did I mention her mom lived about 5 minutes away?) Enemy went on and on about how sorry she felt for me because I wasn’t dating much and it was simply pathetic. Nevermind I was in law school. Also, forget the fact that I was dating someone from home (long distance, but whatever). She decided I was jealous of her pending marriage to Nerd-Boy because I was so pathetic.
A few days later, Enemy told me that she had decided that she didn’t want to pay for the landline telephone. She decided that since she had a cell phone, she would just use it. I simply told her ok and asked her to remove the phone from her bedroom and I took the one out of the kitchen so there was only a phone in my bedroom. A few weeks later (don’t worry, I’ll go back and cover the dramatics of what happened in those two weeks which didn’t involve the phone later), I overheard her telling some girl at school how I was paying for the phone, but I didn’t know she had one in her room she was using for local calls.
So, when people called my phone asking to speak to Enemy, instead of giving out her cell number (or saying “She’s using a cell phone only, may I ask who’s calling and I’ll have her call you back”) I simply said “I’m sorry, wrong number.” A few times people questioned me so I would say “This is a private line, she doesn’t use it. You figure out how to get her.”
One day, probably a month after I heard her say she had a phone in her room (I would have gone to check, but she and I had both put locks on our bedroom doors because of the animosity between us), I got home and she wasn’t there. Needless to say, I was pretty happy. I called W and closed my bedroom door. When W and I talk, we usually talk for hours. At some point during our conversation, there was a beep. When I looked at the caller ID screen I saw it was Papa Johns or Pizza Hut or some local pizza place. I decided not to answer and continued talking. A few minutes later, the same pizza place beeped in. Again, I didn’t answer. Finally, there was a third beep from another number so I answered.
“Hey this is Greg from Pizza Place.”
“Ok.”
“Did you order a pizza?”
“Nope.”
“Did your roommate?”
“Doubt it, I’m the only one here.”
“Oh, ok, thanks then.”
I returned to my call with W and about fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I opened to door to see Enemy staring at me. “Did someone call for me?”
“I don’t think so. And if they did, shouldn’t they call your cell?”
“Did a pizza guy call?” She was practically yelling.
“OH. Yeah. I didn’t know you were home. I told him I didn’t order a pizza.” I was laughing on the inside because this was just funny.
“I did!”
“Use your own phone number then.”
“They won’t accept cell phone numbers! I called them and yelled because they didn’t bring the pizza and they said someone at my house said no one ordered a pizza!!”
"Well, no one from THIS phone number did," I told her pointing at the phone. "Perhaps you should have thought about that before deciding not to pay for the phone."
Kristy told me that night, while they were at Enemy’s mom’s house (did I mention her mom lived about 5 minutes away?) Enemy went on and on about how sorry she felt for me because I wasn’t dating much and it was simply pathetic. Nevermind I was in law school. Also, forget the fact that I was dating someone from home (long distance, but whatever). She decided I was jealous of her pending marriage to Nerd-Boy because I was so pathetic.
A few days later, Enemy told me that she had decided that she didn’t want to pay for the landline telephone. She decided that since she had a cell phone, she would just use it. I simply told her ok and asked her to remove the phone from her bedroom and I took the one out of the kitchen so there was only a phone in my bedroom. A few weeks later (don’t worry, I’ll go back and cover the dramatics of what happened in those two weeks which didn’t involve the phone later), I overheard her telling some girl at school how I was paying for the phone, but I didn’t know she had one in her room she was using for local calls.
So, when people called my phone asking to speak to Enemy, instead of giving out her cell number (or saying “She’s using a cell phone only, may I ask who’s calling and I’ll have her call you back”) I simply said “I’m sorry, wrong number.” A few times people questioned me so I would say “This is a private line, she doesn’t use it. You figure out how to get her.”
One day, probably a month after I heard her say she had a phone in her room (I would have gone to check, but she and I had both put locks on our bedroom doors because of the animosity between us), I got home and she wasn’t there. Needless to say, I was pretty happy. I called W and closed my bedroom door. When W and I talk, we usually talk for hours. At some point during our conversation, there was a beep. When I looked at the caller ID screen I saw it was Papa Johns or Pizza Hut or some local pizza place. I decided not to answer and continued talking. A few minutes later, the same pizza place beeped in. Again, I didn’t answer. Finally, there was a third beep from another number so I answered.
“Hey this is Greg from Pizza Place.”
“Ok.”
“Did you order a pizza?”
“Nope.”
“Did your roommate?”
“Doubt it, I’m the only one here.”
“Oh, ok, thanks then.”
I returned to my call with W and about fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I opened to door to see Enemy staring at me. “Did someone call for me?”
“I don’t think so. And if they did, shouldn’t they call your cell?”
“Did a pizza guy call?” She was practically yelling.
“OH. Yeah. I didn’t know you were home. I told him I didn’t order a pizza.” I was laughing on the inside because this was just funny.
“I did!”
“Use your own phone number then.”
“They won’t accept cell phone numbers! I called them and yelled because they didn’t bring the pizza and they said someone at my house said no one ordered a pizza!!”
"Well, no one from THIS phone number did," I told her pointing at the phone. "Perhaps you should have thought about that before deciding not to pay for the phone."
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Simple Gym Etiquette
I go to the gym every morning. Ok that's not true. I try to go to the gym every morning but some mornings I simply don't make it. But some mornings I do make it. I made it this morning.
There's a guy at the gym. And he kind of thinks he owns the equipment. As in, every time I am on a machine, he comes over to me and says "You are on my...(insert gym equipment here - bike, elliptical, treadmill...)." It's gotten to the point that he's a running joke between my friends and I. However, this morning he wasn't complaining that I was on HIS machine. This morning I was apparently magnetic.
I was on a bike. Doing my thing, thinking "I'll do this for 45 minutes, then go lift..." There was a lady 2 machines down from me doing her thing on the stair stepper. And Annoying Gym Guy ("AGG") comes over and gets on the bike right next to me. Did I mention we were the ONLY People in the Cardio room? JUST us three. And he picks the bike between me and the lady on the stairstepper. I continue to bike because I know his workout routine and I was not going to let him bother me. He'll be on the bike 5 minutes, then off for 10, back on for 5, then gone for 10.
BUT then another person joined us in the cardio room. The very large cardio room. And that person? Got on the treadmill on the other side of me. I promise there were other treadmills not near me. In fact, there are about 20 other treadmills. And then what does this woman do?
She starts talking to AGG and the lady on the stairstepper telling them about someone with gout and pneumonia and how this person (did I mention AGG and Stairstepper lady didn't know who this sick person is?) was apparently vomitting something green yesterday.
WHILE I WAS WORKING OUT!!!
I understand people want to talk to their friends, but she was not talking about something anyone wanted to hear. And I was working out! I ended up getting off the bike after 15 minutes just to get away from the madness. And because I felt like vomitting after hearing the description of the green vomit.
If you're curious, it was apparently chunky.
There's a guy at the gym. And he kind of thinks he owns the equipment. As in, every time I am on a machine, he comes over to me and says "You are on my...(insert gym equipment here - bike, elliptical, treadmill...)." It's gotten to the point that he's a running joke between my friends and I. However, this morning he wasn't complaining that I was on HIS machine. This morning I was apparently magnetic.
I was on a bike. Doing my thing, thinking "I'll do this for 45 minutes, then go lift..." There was a lady 2 machines down from me doing her thing on the stair stepper. And Annoying Gym Guy ("AGG") comes over and gets on the bike right next to me. Did I mention we were the ONLY People in the Cardio room? JUST us three. And he picks the bike between me and the lady on the stairstepper. I continue to bike because I know his workout routine and I was not going to let him bother me. He'll be on the bike 5 minutes, then off for 10, back on for 5, then gone for 10.
BUT then another person joined us in the cardio room. The very large cardio room. And that person? Got on the treadmill on the other side of me. I promise there were other treadmills not near me. In fact, there are about 20 other treadmills. And then what does this woman do?
She starts talking to AGG and the lady on the stairstepper telling them about someone with gout and pneumonia and how this person (did I mention AGG and Stairstepper lady didn't know who this sick person is?) was apparently vomitting something green yesterday.
WHILE I WAS WORKING OUT!!!
I understand people want to talk to their friends, but she was not talking about something anyone wanted to hear. And I was working out! I ended up getting off the bike after 15 minutes just to get away from the madness. And because I felt like vomitting after hearing the description of the green vomit.
If you're curious, it was apparently chunky.
Monday, December 27, 2010
My Life is No Longer in Disarray
That means the kitchen is finished. It's done. Counters in. Tiled backsplash done. The mess the construction crew left? Cleaned up. I spent hours on my knees cleaning the tile and the cabinets but in the end?
WORTH IT.
Now, if I can get up the courage to have them come back and finish the third floor bonus room we might finish all our planned renovations. Of course, that means locking the cats in a bedroom during the day again...
And the mess of construction. And butt lesions.
WORTH IT.
Now, if I can get up the courage to have them come back and finish the third floor bonus room we might finish all our planned renovations. Of course, that means locking the cats in a bedroom during the day again...
And the mess of construction. And butt lesions.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Know Thy Enemies, Part 5
As time went on with Enemy, things got stranger in our apartment. She was “in love” with Nerd-Boy (as she had been so many times before) and was going to marry him. One weekend, prior to the beginning of exams, my best friend called needing me.
Now, normally, W wouldn’t ask, and she didn’t actually ask that night, but we decided to meet halfway between law school and her home. Which put us in Kentucky. I can’t remember exactly why she needed me, but it was important enough for me to drive all night. We decided to head towards each other at about 2 am. Enemy told me not to go. Now, perhaps she was looking out for me, but her reasoning wasn’t that exams were coming up and it was a long drive and late at night. Her reasoning was “W can handle this herself. Why does she need you? Doesn’t she have any OTHER friends?” I met W that night…well…early that morning. We had a good weekend, I got back to school and Enemy was angry at me…for going to my best friend when she needed me. I thought this was the beginning of the end of any sort of civility we had towards one another.
But for some reason, it wasn’t. She began to be nicer to me. Nerd-Boy began to stay with us more often, but she was nicer. This is a side note story that has nothing to do with why she became an enemy, but might make you all laugh. I know you’ve seen people out in public wearing their pajamas…in fact, it’s become a fashion trend in this area (schools even have “Pajama Day”). Our final final exam was on a Thursday. That morning Enemy got dressed for the final by putting on fleece pajamas with sheep on them. Which was interesting, but not as interesting as what else she wore to the final. She put on her gorilla slippers (complete with eyes that flashed red when she walked) and a beret. Now, it’s bad enough she wore this to a final exam, but she also wore it out to eat lunch with a group of us afterwards and then into the liquor store when we went to purchase alcohol for our party that night. I’ll just let you imagine that.
So, I leave and go home for Christmas. Enemy and Nerd-Boy had been dating for around 2 months. During part of their dating time, she was in love with someone…lots of someones….else. I called her the day after Christmas to see if she had a good Christmas and she tells me she and Nerd-Boy are engaged. Now, as I understand it, a normal supportive friend would respond with “Oh! Congrats! That’s so great! I’m so excited!” Well, my reation wasn’t quite so controlled as I just said what came to my mind first. Which pretty much went “What? Isn’t it a little soon?” She explained that a jewelry store was going out of business and she HAD to have THAT ring so he bought it for her and they might as well get engaged at that point because she was in love with him. I then said “And you were in love with Larry and Brant and…(insert other names here).” Side note: she was in fact so in “love” with Brant that when he ignored her at a party, she flipped out and cried for two days. He transferred to another law school, sometimes I wonder if it was to get away from her.
She told me before we got off the phone that a true friend would be happy for her. I said “No a true friend will tell you when she thinks you’re making a mistake. But good luck with that.” Little did I know that one showing of non-support was going to come back to bite me in the ass.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)