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Questions I'm Too Ashamed to Ask Google

May 27, 2010

1. Why does Proctor & Gamble make their Tide measuring cap the same color as their detergent?

2. Why does my cat hate me?

3. What is so irresistible about a just cleaned window that it must be kissed over and over again?

4. Does anyone know how to fold fitted sheets?

5. What is on Stanley’s head?

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Huh Things that piss me off

I Am Such A Doofus

April 7, 2010

For the last six or so months my truck has not moved. It would only start if I gave it a jump. This was not a huge problem, I have a car that works just fine but the boy uses the truck.

I bought the truck, a ’96 Tahoe, in ’98. It had 90,000 miles on it when I bought it but it’s big ass Chevy and those engines can go for a long, long time. I crashed it twice, major accidents, causing the whole body to be replaced except for the roof. There is one little spot of rust on the back cargo door, other than that it looks pristine. And, more importantly, it is paid for and the tabs cost next to nothing to renew.

However, because it is a big ass Chevy, it sucks gas like a cheap hooker. I think it gets 7 miles to the gallon on city streets and maybe up to 11 on the freeway. Ten years ago this wasn’t as painful as it is now.

I drove the truck as my main vehicle until 2007 when my dad passed away and I started taking care of my mom full time. I couldn’t get her into the truck, it was too high off the ground. So, I bought a car that I could get her into easily. I would have traded the truck in on the car but they wouldn’t take it. Even then it was too old, had too many miles on it (over 200,000 at that point) and it was a gas guzzler. The blue book value of it is under $1200.

By 2007 the A/C had stopped working. Fixing it was a major investment, and it needed a lot of other work. Shocks, cams (I don’t know what those are but they keep telling me I need them) and parts of the interior are slowly going missing. Someone stole the ashtray filled with change in it and the dog jumped on the cup holder pulling it out. I can’t put it back in without taking the whole dashboard off so it sits in the back seat unable to hold cups.

I kept the truck because, no on wanted it, but also because it is great to haul stuff with. I have a trailer hitch on it and can tow the boat with it and we can fill it will leaves in the fall to take to the compost site. It has a practical purpose.

And then it just stopped working. Unless I jumped it or charged it with a charger it wouldn’t go. I replaced the battery last year but that didn’t last for more than a couple of days. I was back to jump starting it. Something was wrong. I talked to my brother and some guy friends who all thought it was the alternator. I had replaced that last spring so I didn’t think that was the problem.

I brought it to a shop several months ago. They said it was the cables to the battery. They charged me $20 and said it was good to go. The next day it wouldn’t start.

I gave up on it. I knew whatever the problem was it was a big one and it just wasn’t something I could afford at the time. I took it off my insurance because I knew I wouldn’t get to it until the spring or summer.

For the last six months I have been sharing a car with my son. This means only one of us can go anywhere at one time. It also means my car smells like a sweat sock.

Yesterday I gave up or gave in and jumped the car. I took it to my mechanic. Not the battery cable one but the mechanic who had cared for my baby since I got it. They are more expensive and not as close since I moved but they knew the vehicle and the owner had rescued me on a couple of occasions. I felt guilty having taken it somewhere else just to save a few bucks.

I told him what was happening and then I told him I had a budget. He had to figure out the problem and fix it for under $200. Not much to work with. I was pretty sure that with that budget we probably were not going to get it fixed. But we might be able to rule out a lot of possible causes.

He called me yesterday afternoon and told me to come pick it up. He also said I owed him $120. I declared my love for my mechanic over the phone and told me son we had to go pick up the truck.

Can you guess what the problem was?

I bet some of you can.

Apparently, the vanity mirror on the visor was not closing all the way. The little doo hicky switch was not being depressed when the mirror was closed because the hinge had snapped off. With the visor closed you couldn’t see that the light on the mirror was still on.

I feel like a complete doofus for not being able to figure this out.  It reminds me of when I called the electrician because the light he had just installed wasn’t working. I paid $85 for someone to come out and change a light bulb.

In my defense of doofusness, they had to remove the wires to the vanity mirror to turn it off. Even if I had located the trouble I wouldn’t have known how to do that. I would have tried Super Glue or something to keep the button depressed but I wouldn’t have been able to remove the wires.

Have you ever called in a professional to fix something that was obvious?

Contests Huh No Carbs People

National Cupcake Day and Websites to Avoid

March 3, 2010

Today is National Cupcake Day which is ironic considering all the press Lisa Ellis is getting for having her naked body turn up on Wyclef Jean’s cell phone. If it were National Titty Cupcake Day it would be perfect for Miss Ellis. Of course she is busy looking for a new job right now so it probably doesn’t matter to her.

As you all know I can’t have cupcakes today or for the rest of the week because I am still off carbs! Don’t forget to enter the contest to win three bars of Happy Goats Soap. I’ll be picking the winner on Friday.

As a single mom I let my kids go online for way too long and I let them watch way too much TV.  I don’t monitor much for my son anymore but I do for my daughter. She is allowed to watch kid shows and go to online sites specifically for her age group.  Because I am an often broke single mom I don’t give my kids a credit card to use online. We do a lot of trial offers but I don’t buy games for my kids. My son has a job and can buy his own and my daughter can just keep whining.

Not allowing them to use my credit cards or my Paypal account makes me think I have a little control over what they do or don’t do.

Not anymore.

Two sites are out there that want to really mess with parents. I am sure this was the goal when they were created.

The first one is Kwedit. The tagline is Play now, Pay later. The site is for kids, who don’t have credit to be able to buy games online with only their word. They must promise to pay the debt in 7 to 14 days by going to a 7-11 and paying the bill. If they keep their promise and pay their kwedit limit gets increased. If you have kids go to this site now and block it on your computer. I’d rather give them my credit card than have to drive them to a 7-11 once a week. Thankfully we don’t have any 7-11s anymore.

The other site to keep you kids away from is Chatroulette! Chatroulette is a bunch of people on a site with their webcam and sitting in front of their computer waiting for someone to talk to them. Kinda like speed dating or something. The site was created by a 17 year old Russian kid who had no idea what the hell he was doing. He had no agenda, he just thought it would be neat. Right now it might be filled with normal people who are just curious to see who is out there but eventually it will morph into a site for pedophiles. There is no logging in, no profiles to create, no information stored. Just a place for perverts to sit and wait for their next victim.

Don’t you just love the internet? There is something for everyone.

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Huh

Susan Dey and Texas Independence Day

March 2, 2010
Cast of The Partridge Family
Image via Wikipedia

What could Susan Dey, hot teenager from The Partridge Family and only actor who didn’t appear in the reunion this morning on NBC, and Texas Independence Day have to do with each other?

These are the subjects that Americans are searching for right now. We aren’t wondering about the state of the nation, we aren’t too concerned with the Earthquake in Chile or the continued efforts to help the Haitians. No, we want to know why Susan Dey dissed her make believe family and skipped the reunion.

We could be worried about the unemployment that ran out for millions of Americans this past week but no, we NEED to know why Susan Dey wasn’t a partridge.

I don’t have the answer. I don’t care why she wasn’t there. I don’t care all that much about Texas Independence Day either. If they still want to leave, let them.

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Huh

What Does This One Mean?

February 26, 2010
Top and bottom retainers

Image via Wikipedia

I don’t usually remember my dreams. I know I have them, I majored in psychology in college and learned all about REM sleep and that we enter into several times each night. The thing is I rarely remember my dreams. It seems when I do remember dreams they come in clusters. I go for weeks without a dream, at least it seems that way, and then bam I have tons of dreams that I remember.

Last night I dreamed I was wearing my retainer. You know, the thing you wear in your mouth after the orthodontist takes off your braces. The appliance, as they call it, that costs tons of money to replace every time it gets thrown away with the contents of the lunch tray.

In my dream I could feel the damn thing and was having a difficult time talking to the orthodontist who was showing me her min pin dog who was wearing a green tutu and had some funky high heels on. Also a cape but the cape didn’t match the tutu or shoes so I suggested to the orthodontist that she not allow the dog to wear the cape.

I still have my retainer, somewhere. I come across it every ten years or so and manage to wear if for about a minute before I toss it back in the box I found it in. My son’s orthodontist has told me I should still be wearing it at night, that in fact I should wear it for the rest of my life. I think she must smoke a lot of pot or something.

Anyway, I wonder what kind of bizarre dreams you all have. Do you dream in color? Do you spend a lot of time analyzing your dreams or do you just accept them as brain farts?

*** General Hospital***

This week on General Hospital Sonny’s trial for murder begins! One son is tormented when his father takes the fall for him while the other is called to stand to testify against his father.  What do you think these sons will do?

*I am a participant in a Mom Central campaign for ABC Daytime and will receive a tote bag or other General Hospital branded items to facilitate my review.

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Huh

Who Did That?

January 29, 2010

As I was leaving the house yesterday I noticed what looked liked dog kibble all over the yard. I have a dog, and a child who likes to feed the dog, so it didn’t seem like an odd thing to see. Except that the kibble was still there and had not been eaten, and that it was placed within animal prints in the same spot each time.

I’m pretty sure this is squirrel poop but since I have never seen squirrel poop before I really don’t know.

I have never noticed this before in my life. I have often wondered where squirrels poop since I’ve never see it on the lawn.

Apparently, if this is squirrel poop, they like to poop in my back yard. It was everywhere once I started looking.

I was actually excited when I found this yesterday. First of all I knew right away I had a post for today, but also because I have often wondered what squirrel poop looks like. I know what rabbit poop looks like, I am very familiar with dog poop, baby poop and even cat poop. I can identify cow poop and horse poop but I have never before seen what squirrel poop looks like.

Am I the only one who has been missing this?

** UPDATE**

The general consensus, from people who know more about these kinds of things than I do, seems to be that these tracks, and the poop, are made by a rabbit and not a squirrel. I would have to agree. After spending the better part of an hour watching the squirrels in my yard I noticed a couple of things. First off they don’t leave tracks. They little buggers aren’t heavy enough to break through the snow. Secondly they don’t stop to poop.

The mystery remains…where do squirrels poop and what does it look like?

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Huh Things I Really Like

I Lost a Whole Year!

December 16, 2009

Yesterday my daughter was talking about her birthday. She is already making a list for what she wants for her birthday this coming February. I don’t know if she realizes that she is skipping right over Christmas of if she simply realizes that she won’t possibly get everything on her Christmas list. Of course she still believes in Santa so she probably was just mentally counting all her bootie.

Usually the conversation starts out like this:

“Guess what’s after Christmas, Mom”

“New Years” I say.

“Do we get presents on New Years?” Daughter will ask.

“No, but it’s really important to be quiet on the first day of the new year, in fact it’s a great day to spend with your father.” I tell her

“Guess what’s after Christmas?”

“What’s after Christmas?”

“My Birthday!” Daughter says excitedly.

“No, my birthday, then your brother’s birthday and then your birthday” I remind her.

She doesn’t really care about all these other birthdays but since daughter and son both have a birthday within four days of each other, and her birthday is after his, we are caked out. I still make two cakes but there is always half of his left over. Last year I got balloons for son’s birthday, I would have gotten them for her too but his were still up and they said “Happy Birthday”. Yeah, I know, but he didn’t care to play with them, she just wanted more.

Anyway, I got to thinking about my birthday. Mine is in January and usually by December I have already aged myself. I suppose it’s just easier to start getting used to that higher number a month or two in advance.  I never used to do this but my ex#2 always did and the habit stuck.

So I am in the shower yesterday thinking about my birthday and I realized I wasn’t sure how old I was.  I thought I was 44 and was fine with that number except I knew I was not going to be 45 next month. That just wasn’t happening. It seems like yesterday I turned 40 so there was no way 45 had already snuck up on me.  Also my brother had just turned 45 or 46 last month (I’m not really sure about his age either) and he is two years older than me so it didn’t seem possible. So I had to do the math.

I was born 1/17/1966

That makes me 43 for the moment and not 44 like I have been telling everyone, for nearly the last year, who asks.

They don’t usually ask, that would be rude, but I do because I like to compare myself to them if they are the same age as me (only if I look younger).

I have been nearly high on this information for the last day. I don’t usually care about my age but I am still surprised to find that things like Live Aid or the fall of the Berlin wall was 20 years ago. It seems like they just happened. Even 9/11 was almost ten years ago. Time flies and it seems to speed up as we get older.

Realizing I am a year younger is like finding a $100 that had been tucked away and forgotten about. It was always there but I had forgotten about it and now it is like free money.

I got a free year.

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Huh

I Took Propofol Like Michael Jackson, and I lived

July 25, 2009

This is a post talking about female parts so all you guys out there can go visit Crotchety Old Man to read about his Brazilian wax job and how he is terrorizing the young nurses. Be sure to contribute to his couch fund. I figure if Dani can talk about her boobs all the time I can talk about the tubal I had yesterday. I also realize I don’t need to feel so guilty about not posting if Chelle, the whip-cracker over at Humor Bloggers dot com is making excuses about not posting during the summer because of such things as having mountains and oceans nearby I can certainly use the old 10,000 lakes excuse.

I have had three surgeries in the past year, all out patient, but all requiring general anesthesia which means I have been administered Propofol three times in the last year. I love this drug. One minute I’m lying on the table exposing my womanly parts and telling the anesthesiologist not to pull a Doc Murray on me and to remind him that I do not need to be kept under for longer than necessary, oh and is he sure he has enough oxygen around just in case, and the next minute, at least to me, I’m in the recovery room trying to get dressed even though I am still dazed an confused. In fact I don’t really remember getting dressed and as I was heading out to ex#2’s car I insisted to him that I needed to go back and get dressed. I was, but it was all a blur.

Ex#2 has been my escort to my surgeries each time. I was hesitant to ask him this time given the procedure and in fact had asked my brother, which was weird since he told me all about his wife’s tubal, but ex#2 called the day before and offered to escort me since it was sort of his area. I didn’t ask which area he meant, my physical part or his driving part. Anyway when we left the hospital and I had cleared my mind a bit I realized that the nurse hadn’t given me any of the pillows they call maxi pads so I asked my ex to stop at Walgreen’s so I could pick them up. I fumbled to get out of my seat belt to go in the store, when he suggested that he do it, which was very nice of him but something I wouldn’t ask even though he has proved in the past that he can and will buy feminine hygiene products for me. It doesn’t matter that he got the teen pads for very long girls. Pads that absorb about a 1/4 tsp of fluid or that he got the store brand which means they are plain looking and have no wings. I’m grateful he did it for me even if he went in the aisle with one hand over his eyes and just grabbed whatever he got his hands on first.

He was also a sweetheart and bought me food since he knew I had not been allowed to eat for nearly 24 hours. He even bought me my favorite snack in the world, Twizzlers, strawberry flavored ones. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have enough saliva to eat them since I hadn’t been allowed liquid for the past ten hours, because I knew when I choked on one he would be there to give me the Heimlich or possibly peel the damn candy off the back of my dry and crusty throat made sore by being intubated. His heart was in the right place.

So I am good to go today. I was a little light headed yesterday and since they filled my abdominal cavity with air, for reasons only they understand, I was a little gassy, the good kind not the rotten egg kind, but I am past that now, I think. I don’t have much of an appetite yet but have been craving a margarita something fierce. Go figure.

I don’t need to worry about getting pregnant ever again even though when I told my mother what I was having done she told me I could always adopt. I wasn’t too worried about becoming pregnant since I had another form of birth control and not really having sex but I have the kind of luck where something like that happens. I begin to see the light at the end of the parenting tunnel, at least having to be around them 24/7 and then bam I pop out another one and start the whole damn 18 year trip over again. I feel liberated to say the least. Twelve more years and I am ready to party.

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Huh

I'm Opening a Shoppe

May 19, 2009

I have some of my best ideas before I wake up. At least they seem that way for a couple of hours after waking.

This morning was no different. I woke up with an idea for a great little shop. I live close to Grand Ave. On the avenue are tons of little boutiques and shoppes that cater to people who have gobs of money and don’t have a clue how to spend it. Case in point is the Wedding Shoppe. The Wedding Shoppe is conveniently located across the street from my buddy the balloon guy’s shop. I worked for him years/decades ago when balloons were cool. They aren’t so much now and I spend a lot of time talking to the balloon guy about his poor career choice. He often stares out his window and tries to calculate how much business the Wedding Shoppe does based on the cars parked on the street and the parking lot that he no longer has access to. They have been trying to buy his property for years.

Anyway, my idea for a great store, located conveniently on his property is a store called the Marriage Shoppe. In this store one might find practical gifts for married couples to give one another. There might be a section for newlyweds, couples married five years, ten years and longer, though those sections would be much smaller.

In the section for newlyweds would be gifts like diamond necklaces, lingerie, scrap books of the wedding, shit that only twenty something females would like. There would be no need for power tools or porn until you got into the 5 and 10 year anniversary sections. Beyond that would be mortgage payments, vacations (separate vacations) and college tuition.

There could be a section for clueless guys with signs of what is not acceptable to ever buy for a wife: irons and license plate tabs with the universal red circle with a slash running through it. There could be dictionaries for men just on the words “fine” and “go ahead”. They would be rather large volumes.

It seemed like such a great idea for at least an hour this morning, until I remembered that even though I have been married for six years it was three years per husband and I don’t really have a clue how to have a successful marriage. I know what not to do but I don’t really know what to do. Finding the right guy would probably help a lot in going the distance of at least the decade mark.

And then I thought I could have a store called the Divorce Shoppe. I know all about divorce. There could be sections on lawyers. The pit bull kind that will take all your money and your soon to be former spouses money, the bend over backwards lawyers who don’t cost as much but then you feel like you just took it up the ass for the rest of your life.

There could be sections on mediation, visitation and restraining orders.

There would be a section for celebrating the divorce. Party supplies in black that at least acknowledge the end of the union. The divorced or soon to be divorced person could invite all their friends who will soon no longer associate with them for one last long goodbye. Liquor stores could sponsor a room or theme and kill two birds with one stone.

After thinking about this idea for a while it occurred to me that I haven’t even done divorce all that well. I’m not all that bitter, I get along with both exes, I don’t care about the friends that I no longer see and basically I have become a hermit. Of course if there was a store called the Divorce Shoppe I probably wouldn’t bother to go there since after being divorced so long I forget that I was married let alone divorced. And the last thing I want to do is meet other people in the middle of a divorce.

I wonder if there is a store called the Lonely and Pathetic Shoppe.

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Huh Things that piss me off

Swine Flu Pandemic

April 30, 2009

Upon realization that the government does not yet have a monopoly on all forms of transportation the white house did what could only be called the most logical thing to do, they declared a Swine Flu pandemic which is spread through close human to human contact that can only result when people are in close, airtight quarters such as those found on airplanes, subways, trains and buses.

“Luckily, we have Joe Biden to spread this message” Said Guy Feebling, Secretary of Panic, “We’ve always known there was a time meant just for Joe, a moment that would be handed to him to reveal his courage and clear thinking”

That public and private schools all over the country are shutting their doors only weeks before graduation is just an added bonus according to Heidi Hysterian director of the National Centers for Fear Mongering and Collective Chaos.

“Our economy was bad but it wasn’t bad enough” Heidi explained. “By decimating the travel industry we can put many more people out of work. Closing schools not only eliminates having to pay our teachers but it effectively ties the hands of parents all over the country thus putting many more people at risk for losing their jobs. And while our nations kids are not at risk of being shortchanged educationally it can’t hurt if we have to hold many of them back. If we could find a new permanent disease we could, quiet efficiently, get a new generation on the country’s teet much sooner than we had hoped.”

Putting the pork industry out of business is just added gravy.

“The phoenix can not rise out of the ashes until everything has burned down” said an anonymous white house staff member.

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Huh

I Do Believe In Spooks

April 21, 2009

“I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks”
-Cowardly Lion

I’m not a religious person but for some reason I have had many ghost sightings in my life. Most of them occurred when I was a child but they were so vivid they have stayed with me all these many many years. I have had episodes of ESP as well but I think those tend more from my ability to recognize obscure patterns.

When I was about five years old, I was walking through our old house with my father. We had moved to Texas and then Colorado while my dad did his time in the Army but had kept the house in St. Paul and were visiting it to check on how the remodel was going. My mom had a stroke while we were in Colorado and changes had to be made to the house to accommodate her handicap.

Dad was off talking to some contractors and I was walking up the back stairs. As I was going up a little boy was coming down. He was dressed in knickers with suspenders, a white button down shirt and brown shoes with white socks. He had one of those hats that kids wore whenever it was that they wore suspenders and knickers. Probably in the ’30s. The kid was opaque so I could see the wall behind him but still see what he looked like. I don’t recall talking to him or being afraid.

A few years later I woke up to find a head at the end of my bed. A man’s head with a full beard. It was creepy and I ran into my parents room and dragged my dad in to check it out. When I returned to my room with my father there was nothing there to see but the spot where the head was happened to be warm. The next morning I learned that our neighbor had died of a heart attack the night before. Right around the time I saw the head in my bed and yes the neighbor looked just like the head in my bed.

My father and brother played on these episodes and told me ghost stories about the house. My father mentioned that the living room held a bunch of dead bodies at one time. He was most likely referring to the practice of holding either the autopsy, which if the person died in the house was a common practice or the wakes of the dead, again a common practice a long time ago. He told me that my great grandmother died in my bed. This news terrified my until I realized that this was also a common practice as there were no hospices around at that time and people didn’t generally go to the hospital to die. It creeped me out sufficiently however to prevent me from sleeping in my bed for several months so I guess the joke was on my father who had to put up with me crawling in their bed every night.

Other than a few slamming doors, windows suddenly opening and that kind of thing I have had little contact with the dead except of course for my grandfather who occasionally visits whenever I am stressed out. I don’t mind when he visits as he tells me things are going to be OK and I like my grandpa. I miss him so it’s nice to see him from time to time.

Yesterday I was working on my book. I was doing a fair amount of editing and spent a long time on the chapter about the opera and how much my father loved it and how much I hated it. I was having trouble getting it just the way I wanted and was getting rather frustrated after the 12th hour. As I was getting ready to throw in the towel and start again tomorrow I heard opera music coming up from the air vent that is between the second floor and the first floor.

I went downstairs to see where it was coming from and there on the floor of the living room is my daughter who is writing a book about her grandfather, my dad. She had dug out her little radio that was a stocking stuffer from two years ago. She turned it on and located the opera channel and decided that she loved the opera and it was just the inspiration she needed to finish the illustrations she was making about grandpa.

Grandpa died nearly three years ago, my daughter was three when he died. As the years have passed it has been clear that she is forgetting him. She hasn’t talked about him in a while so this was peculiar to say the least.

I don’t know if he is pulling strings where ever he happens to be but it’s a pretty sick joke if he has turned her into an opera lover. I had to endure it for the duration of my childhood and anytime I drove anywhere with him including the last days he was alive. I really thought that if there was any good to be had at his passing it was that I finally never have to listen to opera again.

What’s even worse is that now my daughter wants to know the names and composers of the operas that she is listening to. Dad told me these things but since I hated it so much, and figured there would never be a quiz, I never committed any of the information to memory. Damn.

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