Tuesday, January 6, 2015

I'm Not Bored, My Face Just Looks Like This

Dear Left But Not Forgotten Blog:

I am sorry that I have ignored you for so long.  It was me...not you. I want to start reciting song lyrics to you to show you that I'll never take you for granted again but we know that I'd be lying.  I'm fickle and callous and get bored easily...but I swear I won't neglect you again...at least for the next 30 minutes. By gones? MUAH!

Love Your Fair Weather Friend:


Now that we've gotten that out of the way, HEY! How the hell are ya?! Long time no post and read. What's brought me back is jealousy. JEALOUSY. My coworker today was all like, 'I totally started going to a creative writing class at our local bookstore. Didn't you used to have a blog? You should come with me!' Which caused me to have flashes of 'My Girl' where I'm suddenly Vada Sultenfus  (the spelling will catch on) standing in front of a class of older people who listen to my angsty poems and smile and say things like, 'Good job!' and 'You're going to be so awesome when you grow up!'. But Vada is 31 and awkwardly bitter in this scenario and missing her Thomas Jay so I decided to create a new blog post. Yay for the internet...

People who make resolutions kind of make me uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because you have to be really supportive at the beginning of the year that they're going to read 30 books in 30 days and when that time comes and goes and they've only read 5 pages of one book you have to pretend like you completely forgot that they wanted you to cheer them on and encourage them in their endeavors but you remembered that Netflix just added Gilmore Girls AND Friends so it's basically your fault they failed and now they're ruined until next year. WAY. TO. GO. With that being said, my resolution this year is to actually do the hobbies I tried to have 5 years ago.  If I don't follow through well then...thanks a lot skanks.

It has come to my attention that if you're past the age of 30 and don't have a skill that could easily translate to an Etsy store, you're basically not living up to the 80 year old lady that you aspire to be. Say what you will, but I believe there is some merit in knowing all the words to all the Ed Sheeran songs and stocking up on craft glitter for homemade cards that are made once every 2 years. But if reading has taught me anything, the boys won't come around until I can do something they talk about accomplished women doing in 'Little Women' and/or 'Pride and Prejudice'.


 Knitting was once an aspiration.  I have the yarn, book, knitting needles...but when it came to actually trying to teach myself how to knit, everything becomes airborne. As in, I throw the items across the room after 45 minutes. Were there local classes? Yes. Free classes would come up at my local library but they were always canceled 2 days before for lack of interest in sign up.  There was once a yarn store in a town close by that would offer free help with your knitting problems but they were always closed on Mondays (the one day I could go) and I believe they have since closed their doors. ENTER KATIE, (cue the harp music) my creative writing coworker that knows how to knit.  She has agreed to be my knitting guru/drill sergeant. This Saturday we will start...hopefully this blog will soon be plastered with pictures of all the cup cozies and dog sweaters. Or maybe just some fancy pot holders...

Wish me luck! And until next time...

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

I Hold These Truths To Be Self-Evident.

There comes a time in your life when you realize you know a lot.  That time for me is the age of 29.  Now, I'm under no illusion that knowing a lot means knowing everything.  I DO NOT KNOW EVERYTHING. (Yet.  I suspect that will come at the age of 30.) But knowledge is power and I thought I should share this wisdom with all of my 3, possibly 4 readers, so we can all be superior beings.  Ready?  Okay!

Truth:  At some point in your bathroom you will run out of everything all at once.  The shampoo is on it's last leg, the conditioner is the only thing you have half full (and the only thing new that you have in your closet), you've been banging your lotion bottle on the sink for 3 days now and running your finger along the inside to snatch any spare droplet, and your deodorant's plastic casing is scraping your arm pit.  It's like they planned it.

Truth:  Saving money makes you cool.  Coupons make you cool.  Having manufacturer coupons, store coupons, digital coupons, and a discount app that you can use on all the same transaction will piss people off.  But you'll look cool doing it.

Truth:  High school never ends.  People always say, 'Just get through it!  It may be hell but you will never have to deal with that crap again.'  This is a lie told by people who have repressed their high school memories or were the prom queen/king. The actual going to high school may end, you can cut out the crazy bitches that made you hate high school, but you'll just trade these people in for new faces that you'll have to work with every day.  For the rest of your life.  High school is for learning how to politely and professionally tell these whiney cry babies to shove it.  (Or in the very least, where not to have your cubicle.)  But it gets better.  Life gets better.  Mostly because you will soon get to drown those sorrows in booze.

Truth:  I know there are times and events I was a part of, but can literally not remember a damn thing about what actually happened.  This is a gift from your brain.  Do not try to unrepress that repressed memory.  There is a reason it's in a dark corner.  Leave it alone.

Truth:  Bedside tables are used to hold the things you need the most and can easily have access too.  That is unless you have dogs.  The best thing on my bedside table is the lamp that is rarely turned on.  It can hold the things the dogs will go for the most and the things I cherish.  Like the laptop...or my Taco Bell lunch.

Exhibit A

Truth:  If you don't expect someone to change for you, you shouldn't be expected to change for them.  If you don't like hiking, say you don't like hiking.  It's not the deal breaker.  And if it is, then it's YOUR deal breaker.
Truth:  A party dip bowl is not restricted to party dip.  It can be used as a candy bowl.
The middle bowl is for your trash.
Truth:  I am most proud of the last discovery.

And now I open the floor for your truths!  Mostly because I want all the knowledge.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Pumpkin Slayer

My cardio is lawn care.  Instead of sweating to the oldies though, I sweat to a mix of Muse, NSYNC, Kelly Clarkson, and the Foo Fighters.  (It's awesome.)  With all this rain we've been having I can't seem to get out there to cut the forest that has become my back yard, but worst than the look of it, Sophie won't go to the bathroom in it.  The grass is either too tall or too wet for her liking and she spends most of her time hopping around like a bunny trying to find the perfect spot, which she never finds.  So she just runs back to the door trying to convince me that her peeing in the house is a good thing.  Other than the tall weeds, something else is taking over the back yard... 

'Thems there is a pumpkin, Jim Bob!'

I swear, if I can't turn at least one of these bitches into a stage couch, I'm going to be pissed.  The vines have been growing for awhile but the pumpkins emerging is totally new.  Like just in the past couple of days.  The fast growth process gives me hope on the being magical theory.  I've read where you have to turn the pumpkins to avoid getting flat sides or rotting but have you ever tried doing it???  First of all the vines have ANCHORED themselves into the ground and the vines are prickly.  PRICKLY!  It's like they want to be squishy and gross.  I also read where you can put sand underneath them to keep them rounded but with all the rain we've been having, I have a feeling all that sand would end up in my crawl space and instead of happy pumpkins I would have created a nightmare beach scene.  Reading about them also armed me with knowledge I never wanted to know...Like, did you know the flowers that produce the pumpkins are females and the pumpkins come from the bulb growing on the bottom of the flower because it's the...uterus??  Yeah.  I totally had a Juno moment where I could hear her voice in my head echoing, 'Did you know babies have fingernails??  FINGERNAILS!'  File this under crap I wish I had never googled.

Yesterday there was finally a lull in the rain, fueled with determination and a little fear (I had just watched The Conjuring) I grabbed the weed eater and lawn mower and got to work on Sophie's bathroom palace  the back yard.  For an hour and a half I worked to fight the sun going down and the rain.  And then I decided to attack the pumpkin patch.  Armed with hand clippers and gardening gloves I cut vine by vine, being careful not to cut vines that already had pumpkins on them to avoid pumpkincide.  I may have been shouting, 'There can be only one!!'.

When I was done I had a good 6 feet of vine cut off and the patch looked...

Exactly the same.

*sigh*  Oh well.  At least they aren't growing over the grave of a witch ghost that has sworn to murder anyone living in my house...probably.

Monday, June 17, 2013

Soul Sisters

I'm constantly over powered by 2 dogs, both 10 pounds (wet).  They're like the sisters from 'The Shining' who beckon to you to come play with them.  You know you shouldn't do it.  Turn that Big Wheels around and peddle down the hall as fast as your little legs will carry you, but their cute faces take on an innocent glow and makes you feel bad about ever questioning their motives...and then they strike.  One will 'herd' me around by nipping at my heels while the other takes full advantage of  me trying to save said heels by jumping into my vegetable garden to eat mouthfuls of dirt just to piss me off. 

As you know, this is Audrey.

Did you say bacon?

I imagine everything Audrey says to me is in the bratty voice of an 11 year old.  She frequently tells me I'm not the boss of her, asks why do I hate her, asks when we're going to the mall, and demands to be told how pretty she is on the hour, every hour.  Her super powers are held in her Mohawk.  Until recently I was convinced she was eating the buds off of my rose bush and now she won't let me forget how I falsely accused her.  She karate chops me while we're sleeping.  She claims it's an accident.

This is Sophie. 

                                           What do you mean Vampire Diaries is off for the season?

You should imagine Sophie's voice as Rain Man.  I am convinced she was bred to look like a cross between Zach Galifianakis  and an Ewok.  She has to be in bed by 9 pm or she gets cranky.  She likes playing with her food, hunting unicorns, and chewing on cilantro (not necessarily in that order).  I'm pretty sure she put Metamucil on my grocery list.  Sophie is temporarily staying with us (shout out to Nikki) and has become best friends with Audrey.  They're weird soul sisters who spend most of their time just wandering through the house growling at the top of their lungs for absolutely no reason.  When they meet there's this weird stand off where they just lean again each other, daring each other to be the first to step away.  Like an odd game of Russian Roulette and trust falling.  Her bark can pierce sound barriers.

Sophie hates it when Audrey touches her.  It reminds me of when I was growing up and I would accidentally brush past my sister in the hallway and she would shove me into the wall screaming at me for touching her. (Ah, sisterly love.)  If Audrey walks past Sophie to get anywhere and touches her in the slightest way, Sophie growls, snaps, and moves away like Audrey smells of poo.  This entices Audrey to do it again.   And again.  And AGAIN. 

Today Audrey was under the covers and Sophie decided she was going to lay down on top of that weird lump.  The lump was Audrey's head.  Audrey growled, Sophie smiled and dug in deeper. 

Do I have a point to these stories?  Not really.  Just that these dogs are awesome.  Probably more awesome than you.  Definitely more awesome than me.  Now if you'll excuse me, the girls and I are off to loot some curbside drop offs. (like princesses)


Monday, May 20, 2013

I Smell A Rat...

Holy crap y'all.  This.  Day.  So there has been this on going battle with the dishwasher.  The first day I went to use it, a river of water came flooding out.  Yay... But I have a home warranty that covers it so all I had to do was call and be at the beck and call of these Sears repairmen for going on...2 and a half months now.  It was always the wrong part was ordered or they would show up while I was still at work or they couldn't fit me in until weeks later.  But today!  Today was the day!  That damn machine was going to be fixed. 

The best repairman showed up bright and early and got straight to work.  And so did I...  While he was doing his thing I pulled weeds, put that weed eater to work, and when I saw clouds rolling in I grabbed the mower and took care of the stupid grass too.  Then the news came...apparently I have a rat problem.  You read that right.  A RAT PROBLEM.  Those f-ers chewed on the new wires of the new motor to the washing machine that was installed a month ago.  He even showed me the way they were getting in.  It was a hole the size of a Barbie dream house.  Cut to me getting on the phone and demanding all the rat poison in the world.  Just kidding.  But I did ask mom to bring some steel wool and some poison for back up. 

Now I'm against using poison because of the domino effect.  You poison the rat, the rat gets out and a cat or dog or owl (sob) gets him, kills him.  Possibly eats him.  That poor unsuspecting animal is now poisoned.  So way to not only have the rat's death on my head, I now have to jump off the bridge from the guilt of the innocent bystander.  But seeing that the steel wool was barely plugging the hole, and Audrey can't bring herself to kill a spider, let alone a rat, the poison was really a 'If you make it through that wool, would you like a nice little treat?  I made it myself...in hell.' gesture.  Also, my mom screamed, 'OH MY GOD!' when she saw the hole.  Didn't anyone teach her to lie to her newly home owner (who's broke and can't afford an exterminator) daughter?  I mean really.

Speaking of mom, I have my garden all fancy and done because of her.  For a good two hours we turned over dirt, dug ditches, filtered out the glass we kept finding (I was convinced we were going to find a body when I found a t-shirt tag) and by the end of the day I had my seeds planted, my seedlings transplanted.  It's amazing.  (You also know how much she isn't surprised by me anymore when she was giving me a 'how to plant a seed' tutorial and she told me to make long furrow in the dirt, place the seeds in, and cover it up I said, 'Oh!  Like putting a baby in the momma garden's vagina!'  And without hesitation she said, 'Yes.  Exactly like that.'  Nailed it.) 

Soon we'll have kale, lettuce, chives, and pumpkins.  Hopefully.  Unless the rats get them.  Or die in the garden and then I eat the food and then I DIE!!!! Gulp.

Monday, April 29, 2013

This Is the Place Dreams Go For Slashing Prices

I did it.  I drank the Walmart Kool-Aid.  (hangs head in shame)  I blame my procrastination and my HATE of waiting and not being able to multi task.  I've been putting off getting my oil changed for...let's just say, 'awhile' and that's 99% because I hate to take my car in for an oil change to a place and wait for HOURS.  I would normally just take my car over while at work and pick it up when I get off but work has been so absolutely insane that we're lucky to pee, let alone get 30 minutes to run an errand, so here I was.  At a cross roads.  Those cross roads were 'This Is Getting Ridiculous' street and 'Your Morals Aren't THAT Important' lane.  So today I was pondering where I could go that would give me the opportunity to get my oil changed and let me get flowers and such for my flower boxes that are empty but I need fill to give the illusion (to the dogs) that you can't walk over them to get out of the yard?  One word: Walmart. 

I haven't been to Walmart in months.  I only go when the situation is so dire I almost have no other choice.  The crowds, the lack of lanes open, the history of discriminating against women, minorities, gay people on their payroll (or off their payroll) and my very favorite: the dead peasant insurance policy (Google it.  It's a thing.) are the reasons I loathe that place.  But the number one on the list?  THEY DON'T DOUBLE COUPONS.  What's up with that?  I mean, I know Target doesn't either but they at least have their own coupons that you can stack with manufacturer's coupons.  And awesome clothing coupons...and now a Starbucks...SNAP OUT OF IT LEWIS!  YOU COULDN'T GO TO TARGET BECAUSE THEY WON'T CHANGE YOUR OIL, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU PUT THAT IN THEIR SUGGESTION BOX. GET OVER IT.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, I need a dirty chai latte.  No.  No, that wasn't it....oh yeah!  So I pull into Walmart and I'm all like, it's going to be 5 hour wait, and I'm going to fall asleep in the waiting area with flowers covering me while I use the potting soil bag as a pillow.  But there's no line.  In fact, I get to pull right up to the bay with no waiting.  They're just trying to butter me up.  Then I get into the store that I plan to spend the rest of my day in, while I wait on my car.  Another reason why I hate this place?  This is my mind while I'm in the store:

 'Ok, I need flowers.  And soil.  Garden center it is.  OH! I need clothes pins.  And face cream.  $5 movies?! FOCUS ALLISON! GET TO THE GARDEN CENTER.  There it is...oh! I need a hose!  I'VE GOT HOSE, I'VE GOT HOSE...IN DIFFERENT AREA CODES, AREA CO-Ack.  Too expensive. Rakes! $5??  Yessss....  Pretty flowers.  Where are your price tags?  They must have rolled waaaayyyy back.  To free.  OOOOO...you're pretty.  So are you.  How do I choose?  Duck, duck...F-it.  I'm getting you all.  Do I smell hot dogs?  Mmmm...hot dogs.  I would kill for a dirty chai latte.  Those flowers were only $2.95??  Why didn't I get more?'

And so on, and so on...At this point I decided that I was done but only 30 minutes had elapsed.  GREAT.  *sigh*  Might as well go get my wait on.  And yes, I got lost trying to find the car center and yes, I ended up face to face with bows and arrows and rifles.  *GULP*  I finally found the car center, and just as expected, the guy that was waiting before me was still waiting.  But I don't see my car...Where is my car?!?!  IT'S BEEN STOLEN!!!  I LEFT MY LOWE'S COUPONS IN THERE!  THE THIEVES WILL NOW BE ABLE TO GET 10% OFF THEIR ENTIRE PURCHASE!  No wait, there it is.  In the lot.  Apparently it's done and all I have to do is pay.  This is a trick...isn't it?  Wait.  What's that hanging from my steering wheel?  A free diagnostic of my car battery?  But I didn't say I wanted that!  Maybe I don't want to know that my battery is in good shape and I shouldn't worry about replacing it anytime soon! 

Sneaky bastards.

So yeah, now Ruby's oil is clean and new, and my flower boxes are no longer empty, and my entire trip only took 30 minutes.  But I'm not happy about it.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Home, Home on the...Whitney Street...

Hi y'all!  It's been awhile...I know.  I haven't just been sitting idly by though, so I have lots to catch you up on.  I don't really know where to begin, so I'll just pick and place and start rambling. 

So we're (Audrey and myself) officially moved into our home and the week before we started getting busy with painting.  When I first showed pictures of the house to my boss, she made a comment about how I wouldn't be able to live with the kitchen floors.  They were/are awful but something I could live with for awhile.  What I needed to change immediately though were the cabinets.


See what I mean?  They were wood adjacent with chrome fixtures.  I think I had the same cabinets in my studio apartment on Virginia Street.  So with some knowledge I had absorbed from the nice kid at Lowes and lots of help from my very loyal friend Nikki and my sister Andrea, we got that shit done in a week.

Yes, the refrigerator is pink and has chalk board doors now.  What of it?
I wanted the kitchen to make a statement.  That statement is, 'I have a uterus.'
Mission accomplished! Woo!  Now my second project was the yard...it is where weeds go to mate.  One of the things I'm most excited about having a house is being able to have a flower and vegetable garden, and I could already see where somewhere down the line there had been a garden in the back yard but do to neglect the yard had reclaimed it as it's own.  Having this entire weekend off I decided it was time to get a couple garden tools, plug in the iPod, and get to work.  Keep in mind all I have to work with is a small gardening shovel, a claw like handle tool that I got at the hardware store, and my bare hands. Easy peasy, right?  Ha!  After 2 hours, I had barely chipped the surface and I'm sure my neighbors were sick of hearing my rendition of  'Wannabe' and seeing my ass in the air.  Cut to borrowing a pick axe, hoe hybrid like tool from my mom and a few hours later I had my garden cut out. (That Xena call you heard echoing through the neighbor hood was not me.  I swear.)  It's far from done but it's an incredible start.  I can grow gummy bears, right?
  • There is a way around having to sand down your cabinets before painting them.  It's called 'bonding primer' and it's my new boyfriend.  For $20, you can't beat it.
  • It will take you twice as long to put the cabinet doors back on than it took to take them down.  Resist the urge to kick them.  You just spent 3 days painting them.
  • Paint in your hair is the new highlights.
  • You will swear you are never moving again unless you become filthy rich so that you can hire movers.  Put that in writing, people.
  • Your second home will be Lowes.  Brush your hair for the cute contractors.
  • You only really need to like one of your neighbors...
  • I am too sensitive.  I realized this while I was over turning dirt and finding a number of Grubs (and yes, I only know what they were because of my vast knowledge of The Lion King) and worried that I was separating them from their family.  Seriously.
I've never been so dirty, sweaty, exhausted...and I love it.  Welcome home to me. :o)
Audrey thinks it's alright.