Monday, December 27, 2010
two truths and a lie
I guess I am not meant to be a blogger since I have only averaged one entry per month over this past year. I guess I just don't have the time to keep updating. It's a few days past Christmas and we are snowed in with our first real storm of the season. I shovelled out 3 cars with the help of some neighbors and their snow blowers..and as much as I love the simplicity of shovelling, and the exercise from shovelling, there was no way I was going to get Nate's little go cart of a car out from under the wall that the city of Albany plow drivers had built up around it. We don't own a snow blower. We have a huge shed/pool house out in the backyard and we could possibly buy and keep a snow blower in there if it wasn't already full. "Full" isn't actually a good word to describe the shed. The truth is it is kind of empty but the space is not use able. There is a large sheet of plywood lying across one set of shelves and I suppose it could be moved somewhere which would make those shelves available for storage, but no one has ever moved it. There are many crates and buckets full of miscellaneous rusted tools, drills with no bits, trowels of every size, painters tape, broken bits of wire...these all belong to the KING OF CLUTTER-my husband. He will argue that he needs all of it. He says that he plans to sort it out and get rid of the junk, but it has been 5 years and we still have to leave the patio furniture on the porch because it won't fit in the pool house/shed. The basement is full of his stuff, his office is full of his stuff (including: drum roll here...a 44 inch printer) and so I think I have to throw in the towel and give up my quest to be clutter free. I only control about 1/4 of the clutter in this house. The closet in our bedroom is full of my "junk"; the stuff I can control. The contents of that closet break down like this: 40% holiday items,20% empty boxes that I can't reach to throw them out, 20% family photos and school memorabilia, and 20% books. I hate sound defeated after only one year, but clutter is an American phenomenon and it is hard to combat it. I remember when we moved back into our house after we had a fire 12 years ago. There was no junk drawer! We had no junk to put into a junk drawer! Then I brought home a little trinket from a baby shower and it seemed crass to throw it away so I put it in the bedroom closet and now it has colonized. I did enjoy staying out of Target, Walmart, Bed, Bath and Beyond for a few months and now that I went Christmas shopping in those places I remember that I don't really like to shop anyway. The title of this blog comes from a community building game that is popular in education now. The game is called "two truths and a lie" and you play it by standing up in front of the classroom and telling three statements about your self. Two statements are true and one is a lie, then the other kids guess which one is the lie. Well here are my three statements;see if you can figure out which one is the lie? 1. I have nothing left to say about this topic so I will end my blogging. 2. I have nothing left to say about this topic but I probably won't end my blogging because I can just ramble about other stuff. 3. The printer is actually 48 inches long-yes that is a 4 foot long printer!
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
chemo sabe
It has been such a long time since I updated my blog and the main reason was that I was preoccupied with getting rid of the biggest source of clutter in my life. I am talking about the 80,000 extra white blood cells that my bone marrow has been storing since 2003. When I first got diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia in April of that year I had very little understanding about the disease and at first I was petrified because it has the word leukemia in it! As the years went by the disease showed itself to be mostly benign and it progressed slowly. I continued on with my life going to work, runnning, waiting for summer to come, and buying crap I didn't need like antique wine glasses at a garage sale.
About a year ago I started having a lot of pain in my lymph nodes from the accumulating white blood cells. When the blood makes too many of these white blood cells there is no place in the bone marrow to store them. If there is no room in the bone marrow then the white blood cells start to fill up in organs like the liver or spleen or they go into the lymph nodes. The lymph nodes are kind of like those rental storage units for the body. I met with my doctor and we decided that it was time to start chemo to slow the disease down.
I remember reading an article a few years ago which stated that Americans have begun using retail shopping as a form of therapy. When we feel bad, sad, mad or glad we go shopping and justify our purchases because we "deserved" them. When my doctor and I set up the dates for my first round of chemo this spring I immediately went into full justification mode and started seeing everything through the "well if I have to go through chemo"... perspective. The first thing I bought was a pair of earrings. Then another pair of earrings. I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and got a new bed spread and pillowcases. I went to Target and got new pajamas. I went to Costco and got a set of glass storage containers because plastic is the new evil that causes cancer and god knows I didn't want a second cancer. I went to Old Navy and got a hippie skirt to remind me of when I was young and skinny and was only worried about whether or not Richie Livolsi (high school BF) thought I was a good kisser.
Chemo was tough. Nine times I had to sit in the chair in the infusion room, waiting for the medicine to finish dripping into my arm. I visualized it making its way around my blood stream, helping me to eliminate the extra blood cells. I made some jokes with the nurses and tried to act upbeat. Then coming home so tired and so incredibly nauseous and I know I was really crabby to the people around me. Nothing tasted right, nothing felt right and nobody could appease me.
(Warning-sentimental section coming up-like that final scene in a movie where you cry even though you could guess the ending an hour into the film)
So once again I was reminded that none of the material things in my life will ever bring me the peace and comfort that my friends and family can. I was so fortunate to have friends come to the infusion room with me and fetch me gingerale and Lorna Doones. They let me sleep when I was tired and gossiped when I was awake. My husband sat with me and fetched me sandwiches from the lunch cart and showed me how to roll up the electrical cord so I wasn't dragging it on the floor when I had to take my drip with me to the bathroom. Friends brought soup, gifts, books, and prayers.
Kemo Sabe was Tonto's nickname for the Lone Ranger. It meant "trusty scout" or "loyal friend." I thought that the phrase was appropriate for this title because all I really needed to get through chemo was my loyal friends. I can't use the new bed spread because it still reminds me of chemo so it is on the bed in the guest room. I don't wear the new pajamas because they "smell like chemo" to me so they sit in the dresser drawer. I do like the hippie skirt and I love the earrings. I didn't lose my hair but it has gotten a lot thinner so I cut it short and the earrings make me feel sparkly.
This post was overdue and now I will try and get back on track with my blogging and my clutter campaign.
About a year ago I started having a lot of pain in my lymph nodes from the accumulating white blood cells. When the blood makes too many of these white blood cells there is no place in the bone marrow to store them. If there is no room in the bone marrow then the white blood cells start to fill up in organs like the liver or spleen or they go into the lymph nodes. The lymph nodes are kind of like those rental storage units for the body. I met with my doctor and we decided that it was time to start chemo to slow the disease down.
I remember reading an article a few years ago which stated that Americans have begun using retail shopping as a form of therapy. When we feel bad, sad, mad or glad we go shopping and justify our purchases because we "deserved" them. When my doctor and I set up the dates for my first round of chemo this spring I immediately went into full justification mode and started seeing everything through the "well if I have to go through chemo"... perspective. The first thing I bought was a pair of earrings. Then another pair of earrings. I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and got a new bed spread and pillowcases. I went to Target and got new pajamas. I went to Costco and got a set of glass storage containers because plastic is the new evil that causes cancer and god knows I didn't want a second cancer. I went to Old Navy and got a hippie skirt to remind me of when I was young and skinny and was only worried about whether or not Richie Livolsi (high school BF) thought I was a good kisser.
Chemo was tough. Nine times I had to sit in the chair in the infusion room, waiting for the medicine to finish dripping into my arm. I visualized it making its way around my blood stream, helping me to eliminate the extra blood cells. I made some jokes with the nurses and tried to act upbeat. Then coming home so tired and so incredibly nauseous and I know I was really crabby to the people around me. Nothing tasted right, nothing felt right and nobody could appease me.
(Warning-sentimental section coming up-like that final scene in a movie where you cry even though you could guess the ending an hour into the film)
So once again I was reminded that none of the material things in my life will ever bring me the peace and comfort that my friends and family can. I was so fortunate to have friends come to the infusion room with me and fetch me gingerale and Lorna Doones. They let me sleep when I was tired and gossiped when I was awake. My husband sat with me and fetched me sandwiches from the lunch cart and showed me how to roll up the electrical cord so I wasn't dragging it on the floor when I had to take my drip with me to the bathroom. Friends brought soup, gifts, books, and prayers.
Kemo Sabe was Tonto's nickname for the Lone Ranger. It meant "trusty scout" or "loyal friend." I thought that the phrase was appropriate for this title because all I really needed to get through chemo was my loyal friends. I can't use the new bed spread because it still reminds me of chemo so it is on the bed in the guest room. I don't wear the new pajamas because they "smell like chemo" to me so they sit in the dresser drawer. I do like the hippie skirt and I love the earrings. I didn't lose my hair but it has gotten a lot thinner so I cut it short and the earrings make me feel sparkly.
This post was overdue and now I will try and get back on track with my blogging and my clutter campaign.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
rehab
Rehab is all the rage these days for celebrities who can't seem to keep thier pants on or walk past a bottle of expired prescription drugs without drinking them down with vodka. I am dedicated to my attempt to reduce the amount of clutter in my life and go retail free for an entire year but I must admit that I have slipped up. I have been tempted and I have cheated. Therefore, I will be voluntarily committing myself to a secure facility next week so that I can work with professionals that will cure me. I am sorry to have let my 2 followers down. I hope that after my stay in rehab I can be forgiven and return to my old life. I will hold a press conference when I come home and I am making a commercial with my sad face staring into the camera with my dad's voice in the background saying "Jannine, I am so disappointed in you. You did not need that faux ceramic flower pot."
So readers let me tell you about my cheating...coming clean is the first step in admitting that you have a problem so here goes. I went to Dress Barn a few weeks ago. I bought 2 shirts and a fabulous dress (although it hugs a bit tight across the top and lord knows I didn't need any extra emphasis there). I went to Macy's and got two new bras. I also bought new curtains for the dining room and the aforementioned faux ceramic flower pot. Here are the justifications: I was receiving an award and needed something nice to wear. Since I have put on "quite a bit of weight" (yes-somebody said that to me on Christmas Eve this year) I went to Dress Barn which is the place that fashion design students sell clothing from their Polyester 101 class. I had to get the new bras because 46 is the age where my boobs have decided to spend their winters in Florida and have begun heading south. I bought the new curtains for the dining room because it got warm out for a few days and that made me think of summer and how nice it would be to have billowing curtains. I bought the new flower pot because I was at Michael's craft store to buy plastic storage boxes for my classroom and then I passed by the clearance bin and it said "everything is going lower" and I thought about my boobs and got sad. So I figured that if I create an "English Country Garden" look in my living room then I can just spend the summer pretending that I am a dowdy British poet sitting with her corset on and watching the curtains blow out over the moors. I forgot to say that I also bought new switch plates for the dining room too. They complete the room, they really do, I know that Heathcliff would agree.
I haven't gotten rid of much lately either. I composted an orchid plant that I had let die by accident, and I threw out some expired mustard jars from last years St. Patricks day dinner. I am going to get back on track though. I promise. When I come home from my rehab stint I am going to give away cds that I don't listen to anymore, I am going to donate those size 8 pants to a real size 8 woman (I am a size 8 for about five minutes after a really bad stomach flu) and I am going to stay out of the stores!! If I can't do it on my own I know that I can call my sponsor to help me. I have asked Elin Woods to follow me around with a couple of nine irons just in case I try to go to Target.
So readers let me tell you about my cheating...coming clean is the first step in admitting that you have a problem so here goes. I went to Dress Barn a few weeks ago. I bought 2 shirts and a fabulous dress (although it hugs a bit tight across the top and lord knows I didn't need any extra emphasis there). I went to Macy's and got two new bras. I also bought new curtains for the dining room and the aforementioned faux ceramic flower pot. Here are the justifications: I was receiving an award and needed something nice to wear. Since I have put on "quite a bit of weight" (yes-somebody said that to me on Christmas Eve this year) I went to Dress Barn which is the place that fashion design students sell clothing from their Polyester 101 class. I had to get the new bras because 46 is the age where my boobs have decided to spend their winters in Florida and have begun heading south. I bought the new curtains for the dining room because it got warm out for a few days and that made me think of summer and how nice it would be to have billowing curtains. I bought the new flower pot because I was at Michael's craft store to buy plastic storage boxes for my classroom and then I passed by the clearance bin and it said "everything is going lower" and I thought about my boobs and got sad. So I figured that if I create an "English Country Garden" look in my living room then I can just spend the summer pretending that I am a dowdy British poet sitting with her corset on and watching the curtains blow out over the moors. I forgot to say that I also bought new switch plates for the dining room too. They complete the room, they really do, I know that Heathcliff would agree.
I haven't gotten rid of much lately either. I composted an orchid plant that I had let die by accident, and I threw out some expired mustard jars from last years St. Patricks day dinner. I am going to get back on track though. I promise. When I come home from my rehab stint I am going to give away cds that I don't listen to anymore, I am going to donate those size 8 pants to a real size 8 woman (I am a size 8 for about five minutes after a really bad stomach flu) and I am going to stay out of the stores!! If I can't do it on my own I know that I can call my sponsor to help me. I have asked Elin Woods to follow me around with a couple of nine irons just in case I try to go to Target.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Fidel Castor Oil
A week's vacation from school-no money to travel, too cold to work in the garden, too early to start drinking....the only thing left to do is sort through the bathroom cabinets and get rid of old medications.
The American Heritage Dictionary that I got in Cape May at a booksale a few years ago, has this definition of clutter: A confused or disordered state or collection; a jumble! (It doesn't have an exclamation point in the definition, I just put that in for emphasis) Every time I open a closet door, or a cabinet drawer in this house, I am staring at clutter. On the surface my house appears somewhat neat and tidy. It's the labyrinth that lurks in the unseen places that bothers me. Here are the contents in the top drawer in the upstairs bathroom vanity: 4 opened squeeze bottles of nasal spray, half a tube of antiobiotic ointment but the tube is crimped and there is rust on it, a box of no-name decongestant tablets with one missing (there is only one missing because when I took it last winter my heart rate went into the triple digits and I didn't like the sudoriferous* effects) some Crest White Strips for bottom teeth, four pair of latex gloves that come with hair dyeing kits, antifungal powder (yuck-whose is that?)razors, hair ties, Vicks Vapor Rub (well it's actually the dollar store brand called Menthol-Petroleum Rub) a couple of hair brushes and hair tumbleweeds, an ace bandage sans clips, an emery board with no emery left on it (the little sandpapery stuff on there really is called emery-it's on page 448 of the American Heritage Dictionary 1985 edition)and some small hotel shampoo bottles. Tonight is trash night and I must heed to this exigent** task.
It has been almost 2 full months since I have been inside of a Walmart, Target, Bed, Bath and Beyond...the only stores I have been in beside the grocery stores were: a thrift store in Simsbury Connecticut (bought a silver bracelet) Lowes (bought light bulbs, new light fixture for kitchen and trash bags) CVS (bought medicine, valentine treats for my class, red hooded sweatshirt for pajama day at school)..some days I forget about my self imposed boycott and I look at the flyers in the newspaper and I get excited to think that I might go buy a new shower curtain or bath mat..but I haven't gone and I really don't miss it-I washed all the old shower curtains and they came out pretty clean-I gave away a couple more bags of clothes that will never fit me again-I even resisted trash picking a futon couch frame, so I feel pretty content for now.
*sweat producing medications
**urgent, immediate
PS. totally irrelevant but humorous bit of information: If your doctor asks you to take the DICK TEST it is a real request-it is a test for the succeptibility to scarlet fever named after George and Gladys Dick who invented it (page 394 in the American Heritage Dictionary 1985 edition)
The American Heritage Dictionary that I got in Cape May at a booksale a few years ago, has this definition of clutter: A confused or disordered state or collection; a jumble! (It doesn't have an exclamation point in the definition, I just put that in for emphasis) Every time I open a closet door, or a cabinet drawer in this house, I am staring at clutter. On the surface my house appears somewhat neat and tidy. It's the labyrinth that lurks in the unseen places that bothers me. Here are the contents in the top drawer in the upstairs bathroom vanity: 4 opened squeeze bottles of nasal spray, half a tube of antiobiotic ointment but the tube is crimped and there is rust on it, a box of no-name decongestant tablets with one missing (there is only one missing because when I took it last winter my heart rate went into the triple digits and I didn't like the sudoriferous* effects) some Crest White Strips for bottom teeth, four pair of latex gloves that come with hair dyeing kits, antifungal powder (yuck-whose is that?)razors, hair ties, Vicks Vapor Rub (well it's actually the dollar store brand called Menthol-Petroleum Rub) a couple of hair brushes and hair tumbleweeds, an ace bandage sans clips, an emery board with no emery left on it (the little sandpapery stuff on there really is called emery-it's on page 448 of the American Heritage Dictionary 1985 edition)and some small hotel shampoo bottles. Tonight is trash night and I must heed to this exigent** task.
It has been almost 2 full months since I have been inside of a Walmart, Target, Bed, Bath and Beyond...the only stores I have been in beside the grocery stores were: a thrift store in Simsbury Connecticut (bought a silver bracelet) Lowes (bought light bulbs, new light fixture for kitchen and trash bags) CVS (bought medicine, valentine treats for my class, red hooded sweatshirt for pajama day at school)..some days I forget about my self imposed boycott and I look at the flyers in the newspaper and I get excited to think that I might go buy a new shower curtain or bath mat..but I haven't gone and I really don't miss it-I washed all the old shower curtains and they came out pretty clean-I gave away a couple more bags of clothes that will never fit me again-I even resisted trash picking a futon couch frame, so I feel pretty content for now.
*sweat producing medications
**urgent, immediate
PS. totally irrelevant but humorous bit of information: If your doctor asks you to take the DICK TEST it is a real request-it is a test for the succeptibility to scarlet fever named after George and Gladys Dick who invented it (page 394 in the American Heritage Dictionary 1985 edition)
Sunday, January 31, 2010
counter culture
It's inevitable in any family that the household chores will fall disproportionately onto one person. In my family that person is me. The other members of my house would argue that they do their fair share of cleaning, cooking, cleaning, laundry, cleaning...but they are lying and that is not the issue that I am going to talk about on this forum (we are waiting for an opening on Dr. Phil or Judge Judy to solve the labor relations disputes). Last Tuesday I came home from work (I ran home-literally-in my running clothes, in the dark, in the cold) to find the kitchen sink full of dirty dishes.
The nearly empty dishwasher in our house is approximately 5 1/4 inches southwest of the sink and it takes exactly the same amount of time to put something into the sink as it does to put it into the dishwasher. So what did I do when I come home to bowls with bits of dried oatmeal stuck to the rim? First I cursed really loudly, but since no-one was home that was a waste of time. Then I went into the movie in my head version of my life-where I am played by Demi Moore (although Marcia Gay Harding is a more accurate representation of the real me) and I visualize myself smashing all of the dishes, throwing them against the floor and laughing maniacally while they shatter...But in the real life version of my real life where I am played by myself plus 20 pounds, I don't smash the plates, I don't storm out of the house, I don't even cry anymore over the injustice..Instead, I take out a pad of paper and leave a series of notes attached to the wall above the sink. I call this the Thomas Paine approach and it is highly ineffective.
"Do not push your dish into the sink" "All dishes should go into the dishwasher" "If the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, you need to empty it and then put your dish into the dishwasher" and so on and so on...there is a bit of remorse when the other family members come home and for a couple of days there are no dishes in the sink.. But eventually everyone finds a loophole "I started the dishwasher and then I drank some milk so I put my cup into the sink to wait for the dishwasher to finish" and by Saturday the sink looks like a refugee camp for housewares again.
So I put on my social scientist's glasses and try to "see" the bigger picture going on in the kitchen. There are the abstract concepts about domesticity, and there are the politicized concepts about feminisim but there is also the very real "we just have too much crap for it all to be put away at the same time" concept and that one is somewhat solveable. A quick survey of the counter top reveals a greasy electric sandwich maker, coffee machine, compost bucket, juice squeezer, toaster, dishdrain board, food processor, Kitchen Aide mixer, crock pot, jars for recycling, butter dish, bread basket, stainless steel cylinder full of utensils, half bottle of red wine, three metal baskets containing a sweet potatoe with black mold, two delicatata squash, three cloves of garlic and four really squishy tomatoes.
First, I washed the sandwich maker's trays and put it away in the cabinet. I took the recycling down to the basement. I threw the old produce into the compost bucket. I pushed the food processor into a corner and drank the rest of the red wine. I started feeling better instantly. Part of the reason why things stay out on the counter is that there is no room in the cupboards. The reason why there is no room in the cupboards is because they are filled with 15 years worth of accumulated things that we thought we needed when we bought them. I think one solution is to set up a sharing list. Like if you want to make 9 loaves of italian bread and you need the wire racks for them to lie on while they "proof" then you can borrow them from us. If you need a pot for chocolate melting or a wheat grinder (I am so not making this up) then you can borrow them too.
The good news is that we are down to one crock pot. I had an old one from my mom, then I got a newer one from my mom and then I asked for a really new one for Christmas last year. The oldest one is at school used for applesauce a few times a year, the middle one went home with a friend to be donated to her children's school and the newest one stands proudly in the middle of the counter!
The nearly empty dishwasher in our house is approximately 5 1/4 inches southwest of the sink and it takes exactly the same amount of time to put something into the sink as it does to put it into the dishwasher. So what did I do when I come home to bowls with bits of dried oatmeal stuck to the rim? First I cursed really loudly, but since no-one was home that was a waste of time. Then I went into the movie in my head version of my life-where I am played by Demi Moore (although Marcia Gay Harding is a more accurate representation of the real me) and I visualize myself smashing all of the dishes, throwing them against the floor and laughing maniacally while they shatter...But in the real life version of my real life where I am played by myself plus 20 pounds, I don't smash the plates, I don't storm out of the house, I don't even cry anymore over the injustice..Instead, I take out a pad of paper and leave a series of notes attached to the wall above the sink. I call this the Thomas Paine approach and it is highly ineffective.
"Do not push your dish into the sink" "All dishes should go into the dishwasher" "If the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, you need to empty it and then put your dish into the dishwasher" and so on and so on...there is a bit of remorse when the other family members come home and for a couple of days there are no dishes in the sink.. But eventually everyone finds a loophole "I started the dishwasher and then I drank some milk so I put my cup into the sink to wait for the dishwasher to finish" and by Saturday the sink looks like a refugee camp for housewares again.
So I put on my social scientist's glasses and try to "see" the bigger picture going on in the kitchen. There are the abstract concepts about domesticity, and there are the politicized concepts about feminisim but there is also the very real "we just have too much crap for it all to be put away at the same time" concept and that one is somewhat solveable. A quick survey of the counter top reveals a greasy electric sandwich maker, coffee machine, compost bucket, juice squeezer, toaster, dishdrain board, food processor, Kitchen Aide mixer, crock pot, jars for recycling, butter dish, bread basket, stainless steel cylinder full of utensils, half bottle of red wine, three metal baskets containing a sweet potatoe with black mold, two delicatata squash, three cloves of garlic and four really squishy tomatoes.
First, I washed the sandwich maker's trays and put it away in the cabinet. I took the recycling down to the basement. I threw the old produce into the compost bucket. I pushed the food processor into a corner and drank the rest of the red wine. I started feeling better instantly. Part of the reason why things stay out on the counter is that there is no room in the cupboards. The reason why there is no room in the cupboards is because they are filled with 15 years worth of accumulated things that we thought we needed when we bought them. I think one solution is to set up a sharing list. Like if you want to make 9 loaves of italian bread and you need the wire racks for them to lie on while they "proof" then you can borrow them from us. If you need a pot for chocolate melting or a wheat grinder (I am so not making this up) then you can borrow them too.
The good news is that we are down to one crock pot. I had an old one from my mom, then I got a newer one from my mom and then I asked for a really new one for Christmas last year. The oldest one is at school used for applesauce a few times a year, the middle one went home with a friend to be donated to her children's school and the newest one stands proudly in the middle of the counter!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
the big daddy skillet
I have decided to look at this project by combining my archeology skills (which are none) with my anthropology skills (which I acquired from taking anthroplogy 101 at SUNY Albany from one of those long haired pony tail white guys that gave himself a Native American name in 1978 and doesn't know that if he is already bald on top then it is time to cut off the pony tail) and do an item by item analysis of the clutter in my house. I am going to start at the top layer and dig down. I am going to factor in the historical and social significance of the clutter. I began by going down into the basement and looking at some of the things that we almost never use to see which ones I could part with. There is the Ablounger which my husband bought to help us get flatter abs. This is the ultimate lazy persons way of tightening your abs..You sit in this chair and roll up and down by pulling on the bar on the top and pushing down with your legs. You can even do it while you watch tv. Somehow even with such a simple exercise tool at my disposal, I still have not managed to get on the Ablounger other than to sit on it while I wait for the dryer to finish its cycle. I've thought about getting rid of it but I think it may provide for an interesting sexual experience at some point. Then as I scanned all of the other items that were collecting dust and mold down there, I banged my shin against something hard. After a quick curse word I reached down to grab whatever it was that I had bumped into. This object is perhaps the biggest single use item that we own. It was a frying pan..no, not just a frying pan-it was the big daddy skillet...it's about 3 feet in diameter-and that is not a lie! We got it about 10 years ago when we were heading out for a camping trip. We drove past an old time variety store somewhere in the Adirondacks and stopped to get eggs, milk, coffee and other last minute essentials. Then my husband spied the big daddy skillet resting on a hook on the wall. I shot off my "we don't need that look" He shot back a "yeah but it looks like fun look." The boys all clamored at me "mom-please we need it." I said no about a hundred more times until we finally loaded it into the mini-van and used it for the next few days to cook dozens of eggs and pancakes over an open fire. After we came home, we unpacked and put it in the basement. Husband claims that we have cooked with it since that trip but I disagree. As far as I can remember it hasn't been used as anything except a shin banger. I want to get rid of it but he refuses.Says he still needs it. I guess I can use it the next time that my girlfriends and I decide to go late night skinny dipping down in the pond. After we giggle and splash in the dark water we will run back to the house but forget to lock the front door. Then that guy with the hockey mask carrying a chain saw will come busting into the house and BAM we will smash him on the head with the big daddy skillet. Or maybe one day my whole family will start playing thier musical instruments again, and I will learn to sing and we will all wear velvet pant suits and drive around in a painted school bus and pull off to the side of the road and cook up an omelet to feed our groupies. I have been getting rid of small items like candles and baskets but it is time to move onto the larger stuff. It looks like the big daddy skillet will stay but I am definitely getting rid of something large soon-anyone want a 6'5", 45 year old man that can make a pancake the size of rhode island?
Sunday, January 17, 2010
C(consumer) V(variety)S(store)
don't get me wrong-Haiti and world relief are still my top concern but to my one and only dedicated follower I feel like I have an obligation to blog on. Please send a donation to the Red Cross or some other organization that you think is honest and reputable.
Now let's play a word association game ok? Peanut. (peanut butter, peanut allergy, peanut brittle, circus peanuts, clowns, clown shoes). Shoes. (shoe shine, shoe horn, shoe store, odor eater, orthotics,arch suppports) Supportive parents. (dance recitals, pinewood derbies, trips to the zoo, trips to the museum, hiking trips, camping trips, science fairs) Camera. ( camera bag, batteries, memory card, photoshop, photo album, one hour photo, CVS) CVS. (prescription medications, blood pressure cuffs, insuline monitors, band aids, hearing aids, sewing kits, dog food, cat food, brillo pads, fake crocs, birthday cards, hair dye, condoms, gummy worms, dry erase markers, toilet paper, drug testing kits, KY jelly, pepperoni combos, People magazine, hemmoroid creme, vitamin D, vitamin, B, vitamin C, vitamin E, vitamin Z?, popcorn,lunch boxes, tupperware, picture frames, eye liner, lip gloss, blush, pacifiers, formula, candied yams, and yoga pants)
Yes, it's true-you can buy yoga pants at CVS..they are in the front of the store two aisles down from the Pringles display. I can imagine a situation where I would be stopping off at CVS to get my probiotic yogurt drink (in the refrigerator next to the YooHoo) and my organic energy bar (top shelf, same aisle as the vitamins) and then suddenly I would realize that I can't go to my pilates,yoga,ninja,karate,kick boxing class because I had forgotten my gym bag at home-but wait!! This is not a problem anymore. My local drug store can meet all of my needs. I can take care of my lip sores and get athletic clothing. This is almost as miraculous as being able to buy wicker furniture at the Price Chopper. How great is our country when we can go to grocery store and have a list that says: chicken stock, laundry detergent, green peppers and chairs for the front porch? Now I that I am on my arrogant self deprivation program I feel like an alcoholic that has to sit through the Super Bowl ads. I just need to get my medicines refilled and maybe some tic-tacs because curried chicken for lunch isn't still curried chicken on your breath at 4pm-but here I am standing in line at CVS, waiting for the guy in front of me to figure out if he can afford a pack of Newport Lights and he's counting out his Canadian coins...and I am soooo tempted to buy the yoga pants. I'm going away for the weekend with my best friends, we will be running, we will be drinking, we will be eating and talking and laughing and farting and we might even do some yoga-it would make sense to buy the yoga pants..but I didn't. I left them there. I got my medicine and the tic tacs and I left without even a People magazine. It was easy to do because I already had 3 pair of yoga pants in my weekend getaway bag. I own 3 pair of yoga pants because I live in elastic waist pants now that I have gained 15 pounds... but I didn't set out this year to lose weight, I only set out to have less clutter in my life on December 31st 2010 and so far I am doing great!!
Now let's play a word association game ok? Peanut. (peanut butter, peanut allergy, peanut brittle, circus peanuts, clowns, clown shoes). Shoes. (shoe shine, shoe horn, shoe store, odor eater, orthotics,arch suppports) Supportive parents. (dance recitals, pinewood derbies, trips to the zoo, trips to the museum, hiking trips, camping trips, science fairs) Camera. ( camera bag, batteries, memory card, photoshop, photo album, one hour photo, CVS) CVS. (prescription medications, blood pressure cuffs, insuline monitors, band aids, hearing aids, sewing kits, dog food, cat food, brillo pads, fake crocs, birthday cards, hair dye, condoms, gummy worms, dry erase markers, toilet paper, drug testing kits, KY jelly, pepperoni combos, People magazine, hemmoroid creme, vitamin D, vitamin, B, vitamin C, vitamin E, vitamin Z?, popcorn,lunch boxes, tupperware, picture frames, eye liner, lip gloss, blush, pacifiers, formula, candied yams, and yoga pants)
Yes, it's true-you can buy yoga pants at CVS..they are in the front of the store two aisles down from the Pringles display. I can imagine a situation where I would be stopping off at CVS to get my probiotic yogurt drink (in the refrigerator next to the YooHoo) and my organic energy bar (top shelf, same aisle as the vitamins) and then suddenly I would realize that I can't go to my pilates,yoga,ninja,karate,kick boxing class because I had forgotten my gym bag at home-but wait!! This is not a problem anymore. My local drug store can meet all of my needs. I can take care of my lip sores and get athletic clothing. This is almost as miraculous as being able to buy wicker furniture at the Price Chopper. How great is our country when we can go to grocery store and have a list that says: chicken stock, laundry detergent, green peppers and chairs for the front porch? Now I that I am on my arrogant self deprivation program I feel like an alcoholic that has to sit through the Super Bowl ads. I just need to get my medicines refilled and maybe some tic-tacs because curried chicken for lunch isn't still curried chicken on your breath at 4pm-but here I am standing in line at CVS, waiting for the guy in front of me to figure out if he can afford a pack of Newport Lights and he's counting out his Canadian coins...and I am soooo tempted to buy the yoga pants. I'm going away for the weekend with my best friends, we will be running, we will be drinking, we will be eating and talking and laughing and farting and we might even do some yoga-it would make sense to buy the yoga pants..but I didn't. I left them there. I got my medicine and the tic tacs and I left without even a People magazine. It was easy to do because I already had 3 pair of yoga pants in my weekend getaway bag. I own 3 pair of yoga pants because I live in elastic waist pants now that I have gained 15 pounds... but I didn't set out this year to lose weight, I only set out to have less clutter in my life on December 31st 2010 and so far I am doing great!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
