-image-4 in 7 years

January 12, 2010 | a girl's gotta shop,bitterness

Well, I’ve killed yet another can opener. I always seem to wreck them before starting a meal whose recipe calls for more than one canned item.

Is it my brute strength which overpowers and shuts down these can openers?

Am I turning the cranky thing wrong? How does this keep happening and why haven’t I branched out to a non-KitchenAid-bought-at-Target can opener?

Any recommendations for one that won’t leave me using one of those triangular can openers (not meant for taking off entire top) resulting in throwing stars (although HELLO next year’s Christmas craft!)?

-image-Success of the Day?

January 11, 2010 | Me,random randomness

No, it wasn’t killing two spiders before 7am.

And no, it wasn’t taking Nugget and his friend to the grocery store and getting through without a single whine.

IT WAS, in fact, my reaction upon spilling BOILING HOT Starbuck’s tea on my hand in the car and not swearing in front of the kids.

These are words you’d hear if you had been in my car this morning:

SON OF A BISCUIT! OUCHIE MY WOUCHIE!

Yes, that’s what kids have done to me. I’m a shell of my former swearing self.

That’s probably a good thing, but I’m a little worried I’m starting to sound like Ned Flanders.

-image-Pretending Not to Be Here

January 10, 2010 | "project!",Mr. Squirrel,the homestead

How much longer can I sit here at the computer after the kids have gone to bed until my husband comes upstairs from working on our basement remodel asking for help? I should go down there and help him, right? I mean, it’s a remodel on our house. For our kids. And our sanity. Clear out the toys, organize them in the basement, and have more (safe) room to run around and destroy.

I should be down there. I just hhhaaaaaattteee home improvement projects.

It just reminds me of when we bought the house over 7 years ago and had all this energy, two incomes, no kids and bucketloads of free time that we spent peeling wallpaper, scraping wallpaper glue, patching over holes made while scraping wallpaper and eventually, fighting over wall colors. Decisions, decisions, decisions: I hate making them. And fixing up your house? It’s full of decisions and back breaking work that is NOT FUN even though it looks like it on HGTV and TLC (when they used to show many more home improvement shows).

Several times I remember returning to our “new” house thinking how much I hated it. How much I didn’t want to return to it, because once inside, we’d have to return to scraping, painting, cleaning, clearing or (the WORST), drywalling.

The basement remodel currently underway? It was slated to be finished in October.

Of 2008.

Yes.

So. A little bitterness.

I cannot telllll you how many times we’ve had the following frustration conversation:

Me: We should/could look into having an electrician/plumber/contractor/fill-in-the-professional come out and finish out this project/portion of the project.

Husband: Nah, why should we spend the money when I can do it myself?

Me: When?

Husband: After the kids go to bed. I can also do it this weekend.

Yeah. Think of all the money we could have saved on therapy co-pays if you would have just called that electrician in to whip out some wiring?

And let me tell you something else about my husband: he does not think my eye-rolling is as charming and adorable as you would think.

What’s on the menu tonight? What am I trying so hard to avoid? Insulation. Rolllls of scratchy pink fluff that I need to roll out, measure, cut and hand off to the husband. I should be down there. I’ve done it before. It would really move the project along. I should quit being a douche and get downstairs.

Maybe if we get the insulation up, get the insulation inspector (more money spent — weeeee!) in here early next week, I can convince Mr. Squirrel to hire a drywaller, because seriously. Is there anything worse than sanding drywall seams? Tell me. No. You can’t. Because there isn’t.

-image-The DB Files: Here’s a Tip (Case 108)

January 9, 2010 | Ask the Douchebag Detective!

Here we go on another important case…is she or isn’t she?

I have a friend that is notoriously cheap. Well, not when it comes to herself, just with others.

For example, if we go out to eat and get separate bills, she will look at my bill and if she judges that I “over-tipped,” we’re talking leaving 25-30%, she will actually LOWER her tip by the amount she thinks is my overage. It’s super crazy.

And the lovely thing about this is that she makes around three times as much as I do, has no kids, no debt, very few bills, etc… yet she begrudges the waitstaff at Olive Garden a couple of extra bucks?

I think we know where the real trouble resides in this scenario: at the Olive Garden.

What. Are. You. Doing. Eating. There?

Why? WHY? Really? That’s your choice restaurant?

And if you start whimpering about free fucking breadsticks and unlimited salad, I will clock you on the head with a ginormous dildo peppermill.

Garumph.

But back to my professional opinion on your friend…she’s a douche for reducing her tip amount because she thinks you overtipped. I’m not a big fan of overtipping (like YOU, girlie girl…who makes bank? You do apparently!) unless I’ve experienced a really thoughtful waiter or they look like they could use a better day. In general, I tip 20% done and done. But then again, if they suck, I go for 15% or talk to a manager so everyone knows why they’re not getting a tip (and this has happened once, twice at most).

But if we had lunch, and you decide to give it your all to the waiter’s take-home, then I’d just give my portion of the tip and think you’re just uber-generous. Is this causing any awkwardness between you two?

Does my answer make me a douche? I know the Douchebag Detective hasn’t been at the office much, but I’m back and ready for more cases. Just make sure they’re not urgent.

-image-Shape Shifting

January 8, 2010 | random randomness,TV/movie addiction

Over the holidays, my body went from pear to apple. It’s not good.

Just as I was standing at the counter, eating some chocolate, I received an email from a friend whose daughter was watching tv, and upon seeing Jennie Garth, said “she looks like Stacy.”

I feel a little better about myself now. And a little sad for my friend and those nasty specialist co-pays she’ll be forking over.

-image-I hope that’s not what they were going for.

January 5, 2010 | Jojo,random randomness

Jojo finally got the bag of treats from his preschool’s nondenominational holiday party pinata. We were traveling the day of the party, but the teacher’s email recap had me cracking up. Apparently, the pinata wasn’t given up the goods without a serious fight — several rounds of kiddie blows, some parental blows and finally a beat down on the floor cracked the motherlode.

I should have squirreled away the loot, but now he remembers how much is left and where it’s at. So, I just let him take out three pieces to savor for all of 24 seconds. One of his selections was a Dum Dum lollipop.

He quickly unwrapped it and tucked it in his cheek while unwrapping the Hershey Kiss he also chose from the bag. I flattened out the crumpled wrapped to see which flavor he got, and by then he had removed the lollipop from his mouth to reveal a pale opaque yellow lollipop.

I assumed it was banana — seemed like the color a banana-flavored lollipop would be, although a banana-flavored lollipop seems wrong. Kind of like banana juice. It’s just not juice or lolli-worthy. ANYHOO… so I asked Jojo, “what is the mystery flavor?”

“Hmmmm” he thought.

I reminded him that he could probably identify the taste by tasting and smelling.

He stuck the lollipop back into his mouth. Then he removed it, sniffed it, shrugged, and decided: “it smells like pee-pee.”

That, of course, didn’t stop him from eating the whole thing.

I decided to check out what Mr. Dum Dum had to say about the Mystery Flavor:

The mystery pop is a mixture of two flavors (the end of one batch of candy meets the beginning of the next batch). Our candy lines are continuous and the switch over from one flavor to another results in some pops containing both flavors.

Then I looked at the current flavors, and Pee-Pee wasn’t listed. Now, when I ask Jojo, he says it tasted like Cherry, which has thrown me for a loop. WHY OH WHY didn’t I sneak in a lick? We may NEVER KNOW what flavor that was? By looks, I’d say it was a Mango and Banana Split hybrid. Or even a Cream Soda/Mango mixture. But the Cherry taste? I’m perplexed.

Pee-Pee is not even listed as a potential future flavor (and no, I didn’t cast it as a write-in)…but I wouldn’t oppose you doing so. I’m saving my vote for Bailey’s.

I think I’ll go clear my head by reading up on the latest healthcare reform issues.

-image-Advice to my Elderly Neighbor

January 4, 2010 | I'm writing a letter

Happy New Year. Although we’ve lived here seven years, I’ve never said hello. Yes, I’ve waved, but I’ve actually only seen you outside your home less than a minute total in those seven years. I’m glad someone finally convinced you to sell that Honda hatchback…I’d never seen it move in over six years, so hopefully it went to good use instead of just protecting that six feet of the driveway from the elements.

I don’t want to bother you. I know you’re not in the best of health, and I have introduced myself to your nephew and offered to stop by and check on you. I realize it must be lonely. Or maybe you like it that way. Just you and … the newspaper? I know you pick that up off your porch daily, although I’m not sure you read it. Yes, I’ve seen your back porch, too, from your side neighbors’ backyard, and I think part of your daily regime may be to pick up the paper from the front porch, shuffle to the backdoor, and toss it out, unread, onto your backporch. I’m not sure how financially sound or environmentally friendly that is… well, I do know, but it’s really not any of my business.

I know, I should probably just zip it and let you live out your golden years as you want. BUT then that wouldn’t be in line with my efforts to speak my mind, albeit, I’m blogging it, and I can pretty much guarantee you do NOT have me listed in your Google Reader.

I just wanted to make some suggestions and have one small request. You seem heck bent on bending over and picking up your paper without leaving your house, although the paper is a full step down from your entryway. I notice you use a cane while doing this, so you do have an extra “leg,” so to say, it’s still a scary act I’m watching. From speaking with your neighbor, you’ve had a couple of falls, and that’s what I worry about with you stooping over to grab the paper. Why don’t you slip on some shoes, step down and bend over instead of tempting gravity and possibly knocking yourself out on the icy cement porch? What if I’m not around watching out for you? Everyone else is at work! You will lie there on top of your unread (not that that matters, we’ve established) paper in the frigid cold, and the mailman doesn’t come by until late afternoon, so you’d be a total Popsicle. That’s no good.

That’s all. Oh, and no matter if you decide to take my advice and step down onto your porch or not, would you please (here comes my request) put some pants on over your tighty-whities before opening your front door? What with the bending, reaching, shuffling, cane-maneuvering, paper-retrieving ordeal, I actually stood and stared at you (again, in your tighty-whities) way way way too long out of worry of witnessing a possible head injury and now I’m kind of scared of going near the front window.

Good day. All the best in the coming year!
With warmest personal regards,
Mrs. Squirrel

-image-The Year of Living UnProcrastinatingly

January 2, 2010 | Uncategorized

It’s a word. In my mind.

Instead of “yeah I gotta do that” I’m going to do it. Little things like “I’ve gotta go through and sort out 2008 Christmas cards into “keepers” and “recyclers”" because YES, I DO THAT. I’m doing that tonight in front of the tv. It’s all set up. Tomorrow — you may inquire as to the whereabouts of your 2008 holiday card, and I will be able to say, “oh that awesomely festive one you sent ’08…it’s in my ’2010 recycled holiday tag crafting program.’ OR I may say “your card was recycled because as much as I heart you, I don’t think your face or your dog’s face will make it into my holiday gift tag program…better luck next year.”"

You may be asking yourself, “JHC, please tell me she isn’t going to blog this lame all damn year?!” And to that I would reply in your head, “SUCK IT!” 2010 is the year I also woman up and speak my mind. Want an honest answer, I am going to try and bridge that really high awful wall that I hide behind with my opinions and viewpoints and express them, as difficult as that is for me. Sure, I can outtalk anyone on the Tiger Woods scandal (seriously. WHY DID YOU EVEN BOTHER GETTING MARRIED, ASSHOLE?), but when things need to be said, I sit back and let others talk or just hope things are resolved on their own. That ain’t going to cut it in 2010. Life is too short.

Also, I plan on living a little more frugally. Frugallyier, if I may. AND I MAY because it’s my blog, so who knows, maybe 2010 will also be the year I create one new awesome word a day. I mean, crazier things have happened, like people watched JAG. WTF was that all about? But seriously. I’m limiting my eating out budget and cooking more at home. It’s an all new year, peeps. Watch and learn.

Or read and mock, but thanks for stopping by and sticking with the Squirrels.