A good ol’ fashion-ed rant

I’m highly caffeinated so it seems like a good a time as ever to post a good old rant about something extremely trivial.

You know what I hate.

Plus size clothing.

What a random thing to hate.

I shop those deal sites, like Zulily, daily. It’s window shopping on my phone. Window shopping I actually get to do because I can’t go out and do any parusing at a real store. Not with two small children in tow. Shopping is one part mother hen and the other yelling “Don’t lick that!” at the children. Oh and the random “I gotta go potty,” in the middle of the store with a cart full of that mammoth box store and you just happen to be on the complete opposite side of the store.

Ah, good times.

That leads my looking at clothes to these sites and they tend to have at least one “plus size” feature of the day. Almost every day I look at the section and I think “What women in her right mind would wear that hideous outfit?” It’s like the designers all got together and said “Hey fat girl you need 5,000 yards of fabric to cover those rolls.” I swear theses plus sized cloths look like they look some drapery and just pinned it around and called it good. Large balloon-y outfits with millions of layers don’t make anyone look good, least of all someone with a bit of curves. Unless maybe a wedding gown and I’m still not on board with that trend.

There is way cute stuff out there for every body. Don’t settle for frumpy un-flattering outfits. Unless it’s raining and watching movies on the couch in pajama pants.

Next up on random rants about clothing, bikini’s for little girls. Talk about over sexualizing children, people complain about toys, but yet’s parent’s are cool with putting a small child in overly “sexy” triangle top and string side bottoms? We try and tell our daughters to love and respect themselves but buy clothes that are reminiscent of the 20-something college scene, seems the two are just a wee bit at odds with each other.


Aluminum foil?

I’m an avid Pinterester. There are things on the Pinterest, saving money, living naturally they pop up constantly. One thing that pops up is make you’re own dryer sheets. I always thought they are like a dollar even I’m not cheep enough to make my own. Well…I ran out of dryer sheets. 

Ok…not really. In truth I have a package of 250 buried in storage someplace since the laundry room is still down to studs and all the laundry items still in storage. I really did think that when I kept out one Costco sized box of 250 dryer sheets it would make it until the end of the laundry room remodel. No. I ran out. August will mark one year of dismantling the laundry room, and to be honest it will November before I even bother with getting back to that renovation. 

So, here I am standing in front of my dryer with heaps of laundry in the middle of the night having no desire to go to the store at midnight to pick up dryer sheets. I think there must be some alternative with products in my house that I could use. That’s when I remembered a post I saw. I used a ball of aluminum foil. Well, what the hay. I know I have that in the house and it’s one ingredient. If it totally sucks then I’ll break down and run out to the store at 1 am. 

It worked. In fact it worked so well that one little aluminum foil ball has absolutely zero static when I go to remove laundry. ZERO. No socks stuck to shirts, ever. They are just tumbled and not clingy. I’m amazed…now if I could get that aluminum foil ball to smell like the Bounce I’d be in business. 

P.S. The ball gets smaller and tighter ever load which I find amusing. 

There is a reason that parents, especially those of young children vanish from sociality for a few years or can not be expected to get anything done in a reasonable amount of time. The reason is because once children are added to the mix everything become exponentially harder. Leaving the house…ha! Good luck with that.

In my house things tend to pile up and up and up. Until the day you look in your storage space – a very LARGE storage space that runs the entire length of your house – if full. Full of random stuff that should have been sold off, trashed or given away years ago. We’ve been trying to work on this crawlspace issue since January. I can successfully say that I have yet to make a dent in it and I’ve already sent five large boxes to Goodwill, sold a few things on crags list and started throwing out random empty boxes.

In an effort to stop things from ending up back in storage I have instituted a “do this box.” It’s a box, and it has rules, that I make up and change as I feel like it. It’s like a child’s game of hide-and-seek, you just never know what the rules will be until I decide them. The ultimate goal is to take things out of the box and take care of them, things that have been shelved for years. Items go in the “do shit box” then on Friday each adult in the house removes something from the box and must take care of that item before Sunday. I made up a new rule last week that if the item takes less than 10 minutes you have to pick another thing until the 10 minutes has been fulfilled.

I decided to grab my item out of the box.

It was a bobble head that the child had ripped the head off within the first 30 seconds of it being given to her.

I started to look for the hot glue. First I had to guess on what art supply box or bag I put one of the three hot glue guns that we own where that might be located. Then I spend 20 minutes trying to locate one of the three. Eventually, discovering it in a cabinet in an effort to hide the some of the art supplies from the children. Alas, no glue sticks with this glue gun, the glue must be with one of the other two glue guns. I lucked out on the glue for the glue gun as I had a random glue stick in my pen/pencil box that I keep on a shelf above my desk that the children can’t reach. Score! Finding the glue and the glue stick only took me about a half an hour.

Then I had to glue the head on, which shouldn’t be that hard, however this is from the dollar store and is a silly little trinket with poor quality manufacturing (maybe why it’s head popped off in the first place). There is a hole at the bottom of the head but not the correct size to fit the spring for bobbling. Made a glue web over the hole and then stuck the spring in to the head. Then hold on to the bobble head until glue sets.

This entire process took me 40 minutes to accomplish, and there is a 100% chance this head is going to get ripped off again.

If the children were up the time would be doubled, at the very least.

This is why people with kids get nothing accomplished.


Riesen candy fits into the same category of Werther’s original, candy only old people seem to eat…and also have in abundance. Maybe it’s not just old people that eat Werther’s but the commercials I grew up with as the old guy have a full supply of them on hand to give to the grandkid had something to do with shaping this idea (and therefore truth in my world). To fit with my world view of Riesen candy when I had to run and pick up some items for my grandma from her old lady friend she pawned off an entire bag of Riesen candy on my grandma. Both of them were saying that “No one wants the candy because it’s dark chocolate…no one likes dark chocolate.” 

I’m still pretty sure it has nothing to do with the chocolate and everything to do with the fact it’s a Riesen. I mean really, those things are better at removing loose teeth than duct tape, and I hope you don’t have any fillings because you won’t after eating one of them. 

I however like them. I grab a handful whenever I’m stopping by. I also happen to like a lot of “old people stuff” especially in the way of candy, so much so that it’s earned me some fairly hardcore mocking over the years. I will go crazy over those old-fashioned hard candy that comes out around Christmas. The little sweets that look like mini pillows or have little designs in the middle. Love them! They are actually hard to find unless you are going to a candy store that specializes in old-timey sweets. I am also a HUGE fan of anything maple. If anyone ever wants to make my day – or possibly week – just pick me up some maple syrup or maple candy. I had an old co-worker who one day when out and about saw some maple candy and picked it up just to be a nice person. I’m sure she remembered that I like everything maple after my co-workers spent an entire afternoon making fun of me about this fact after I found the ice-cream store that we went to for had maple flavored soft serve and you know I was in heaven after finding out that (and of coarse getting) that gem. That little pack of maple candy made my month, because it took me a month to eat it. Seriously that shit is pure sugar, and delicious. 

As I’m swiping my allotment of Riesen Grandma says once again that no one wants them because they are dark chocolate (which is still think is bull honky). Then Grandma states “I hear that chocolate is good for you, the dark chocolate especially.” I agree and she asks in a very puzzling manner “But why…why is it good for you.” 

I go into an explanation about antioxidants and other big fancy words that have to do with chemicals and I see her just start to glaze over very quickly. So I say “Like vegetables, chocolate’s like vegetables.” Grandma perks up and says “Okay! I see!” 

So next time you want something sweet and consider it a vegetable just have some dark chocolate. It’s good for you, like carrots and what not. 

Grandma Moves Home

Grandma moved home. This past weekend was the weekend that Grandma moved back home. She seemed very excited to be moving back home and yet a little nervous. When I visited the past few weeks I would ask if she was excited about moving home. I did not get the impression that she was jumping for joy but did want to get home. She also had to tell me multiple times that she was not nervous. Ha! The only time someone mentions something over and over again is when they do that feel that way…at least a little bit. I would be nervous if I were in her position even at my age. After spending the better part of a year in nursing home or assisted living I think going out on your own would be a bit of a nerve racking experience.

My aunt, uncle and mom moved Grandma back home. They got her moved in and then left. At first I was thinking that seemed a bit harsh just dropping Grandma off and then heading out…but my mom had a good point and that was if Grandma can’t make it in her own home it’s better to find out right away. Grandma moved out of the assisted living center about a week early so that if she didn’t feel comfortable she could move back into her room. The assisted living center has a waiting list if Grandma gave up her room and then decided that she wanted to move back she very well might not have a place to go back too.

I did not assist in the move, which was for the best. I’ve learned that when family is involved the less people involved the better. And really, what the hell was I going to do besides not be helpful unless I left the kids at home. In hindsight I should have totally used the excuse that I needed to go move Grandma in without the family to get a break from my own children.

I’m tempted to run away from my family for a weekend. I know I need a get-a-way weekend, or maybe just a few hours because I have been doing nothing but pinteresting Jell-o shot recipes for the one weekend in the summer I escape and go north with the ladies. I’m even looking at tents. I had the perfect tent but the cat(s?) decided that she wanted to use it as a make-shift litter box for an entire summer, and well…you just can’t get that smell out. The place we go has ample room for everyone to sleep I don’t need a tent. Hell, it would actually just be silly opting for a tent in place of a comfy bed with linens and pillows. I want the tent for one reason, sweet sweet solitude. I can just camp in my tent and be alone! The four hour (and some for stops) car ride is starting to sound like the most glorious part of the entire weekend. Eight full hours of glorious alone time. I say this and that means that I’ll end up car-pooling, which is nice for a long trip. Maybe this year I’ll not be the one to drive and I can just ride along. I know I’m longing to get away when I start looking up booze recipes and contemplating buying a new tent which I will used two times from never.




I really need to finish the laundry room! All of my projects are starting to mesh into one brain space and I’m forgetting what all needs to be done. Meaning I need some external organization call file folders! However, with no where to put the file folders but a massive pile on my desk it makes for just more piles of clutter to get on my nerves and make my brain space feel more squashed and irritable.

I forgot today that I needed five more text items from a client. How could I forget that, not like it’s one of the most important factors of the entire job. I have a feeling this job is going to be delayed hitting print. I was excited that I was on track to be early as in months early and then my client dropped the bomb on me that they were pregnant and about to have a baby. Oh dear, well there goes three months of work time out the window. Sometimes I never see a client. This one is a few states and time-zones away.

I also have an art heavy design I’m working on for a friend. I should say photoshop heavy. I am not very speedy in the Photoshop. It’s a good project to get better in an area I feel that I feel I am a bit lacking but since it’s a friend and thus free it tends to get put on the back burner and forgotten about more often than I would like to admit. This weekend was the “Oh CRAP! I gotta get to that!” because May is just around the corner and before I know it will be June, which is when the project needs to be completed by.

I need a dedicated office space with a door. A glorious DOOR! I did get a fantastic hanging file cabinet. It’s a two-dawer, work surface level that spent a few weeks in the Haworth test lab getting beat on. They were going to toss it and Husband’s boss said he could have it once it was finished getting beat on. Yay! Perks of having a furniture engineering husband (yes, he designed the cabinet). He’s only been six…maybe seven years – lol, it’s once in a blue moon (read as never) that something is allowed to be given out like that.

Oh Menards…

Menards. An interesting place to say the least.

We have a long running joke about Menards. When we first got married and purchased a house we were frequenting the home improvement stores multiple times weekly, sometimes multiple times in a day, especially on weekends. We always commented on how super random some of the stuff sold at Mendards seemed to be. One day my husband is at work having a benign conversation with a co-worker about the pervious weekends events where he said that we went to Menards. The co-worker busts out “Menards! Best price on ketchup!” And then the conversation about how this co-worker drives about 45 minutes to the Menards (because they lived a ways out of town) to buy their ketchup because it was by far the best price they had ever seen. This then turned into a long running joke between my husband and myself about how Menards carries the most random stuff all the time, not just a “special buy” like some of the other home improvement stores will run. At Menards you can always get your 2×4’s (albeit you have to dig through a whole ton of garbage wood to find one), ketchup, dog food, maybe some hot pockets, maybe a few plants, a gigantic toy look-a-like banshee for the kids and maybe some flooring if you’re up for a flooring project.

We went to Menards last weekend to get a light bulb, because it seems to be the only place in town that carries that particular light bulb. If you are going to Menards expect to spend some time wandering the store to find all of the amazing items they may or may not have in store. I wanted to peruse the camping section, maybe they would have a tent for the right price and we could replace the one that cat pissed all over. No tents I was willing to buy, but then we happened on the knife aisle. Yes, Menards has a knife aisle. I found it. I go to Husband “Oh! Look knifes! Maybe we should pick a few up,” half joking and picked up the Bear Grylls knife and make some mockingly gesture at Husband. (Ok, we’re not so much fans of the Bear Grylls – the knifes are pretty cool though). Then Husband noticed that not only does Menards carry the Bare Grylls but also the Les Stroud knives, Husband is a HUGE fan of Les Stroud and he wants the Les Stroud Machete (sadly Mendards did not have this on the shelf). Menards had some other brands, the other most notable Camillus and Kershaw, not bad brands of knives. And then we moved on from the knife aisle to pick up some bird seed and plastic tumblers for the kids.

A few days pass and Husband brings up Menards, I yell out just after she says “Menards” “best price on ketchup!” with out missing a beat he says “and apparently the best price on knives.” He said they were well under advertised  price of  all the other local companies he looked at and the manufactures website.

So there you go, why shop anywhere else.

I’m such a sucker for old people.

The Grams needed me to run over to one of her friends house to pick up some lotion that she buys form her friend. This lotion is totally old lady smelling lotion. There must be some memo where if you are a lady once you reach a certain age this note just shows up instructing you that it is time you start using only a few specific lotions and perfumes. It is a super secret to the rest of the world and it also states if you break from the list of approved smells it will bring about world doom. 

The four horse men of the apocalypse are in fact old women who have thrown caution to the wind and gone off the approved smells memo. 

Grandma’s friend is also a ninety-year-old house bound lady. If you know old people, they like to chat. I knowing this planned my day accordingly figuring that I would be a good 45 minutes to an hour chatting with Grandma’s friend. I was wrong! It was an hour and a half. My grandma even called to round me up. It took me another 25 minutes to try and get out the door. 

I did end up getting a Dr. Pepper from my grandma’s friend. I think it was her ploy of getting me to stay and chat. She goes “Do you want something to drink I have Dr. Pepper!” The Dr. Pepper bit is hilarious if you know anything about how Dr. Pepper was an “old person’s drink” and Dr. Pepper had to create a whole marketing campaign to try and get young people to even try their drink. My grandparents ALWAYS had the Dr. P. in the fridge, maybe that’s why I like it so much. Dr. P. and RC cola. I’m a sucker for RC cola if I ever see it around. She starts telling me about how she had cases of Dr. Pepper but she doesn’t like it, so I was just someone to pawn up the Dr.P on – but that’s cool because I am a fan. Then once I get the can, because “No, thanks” was not an answer she was going to take she invites me in the living room to have a seat. 

I’m done for now, and knew it. I was already full because I had just pounded down a gestation frozen slushy machine coke and there was no way I was going to be able to pound down this Dr. P. and make my way out. She showed me her knitting, and we talked about that. Then she bitched about how now-a-days the yarn is nothing but string with now weight behind it. She actually said “These manufactures should be ASHAMED of how poor their product has become!” Very rilled up old lady. She then went on to complain about how she had gotten several skeins of yarn that were nothing but knots that she had to cut out the knots. Now, if you are yarn worker, and I could understand her plight, because I do once in a great while attempt to crochet some blanket that looks like a toddler did most of the work. I would be so angry about knotted yarn I might write a nasty letter. Being curious I wanted to know what brand she was using, since she is home bound maybe her buyers were getting bad yarn? 

The brand Red Heart. Old lady is looking right at you, one of the if not the biggest yarn manufacture for your shoddy product. If I could explain how Twitter works she’s be all over you on the internet. 

Then she tried to get me to eat candy. What is it about old people and candy. Every single one of them has candy in dishes all over their house, which reminds me I left with a Resin and it’s still in my pocket – I best get that out before it goes through the wash. 

I also scored a date fresh from Arizona. That was mighty tasty. 

Eventually I escaped. Then ran the lotion to Grandma. Who I think was kind of sad that I couldn’t stay and chat for another hour but I had to eat and my family needed to eat. Grandma did save me half her sandwich from dinner in case I got hungry. That is super sweet and cute and yet super fucking weird at the same time. I have been told she save parts of her dinners and lunches all week for my mom’s dog, again cute and yet weird at the same time. 

I ended up leaving my old lady chat sessions getting a date, a Dr. P., a Butterfinger and some dollars for my troubles with which I was instructed to go buy a ham. 



Oh….The Non-Drama

I’ve mentioned many times that Grandma is a bit of a drama queen. Such as this post Drama where there is none. I’m off running her taxes, which she acts like it’s some heroic endeavor that I had to ride 50 miles in a blizzard on a goat, face untold horrors and do this all blind folded. She also gave me money telling me that “Gas isn’t cheep!” Uhhh. Well, no gas isn’t cheep but driving about 3 miles away three times for a total of what…18(ish) miles for the round trips, really not the big of a deal. 

I did learn ages ago to just take the money after watching some epic battles when she would try and give money to my mom or my aunt (it’s like $10-20 when she does this). They would go through these fiascos where Grandma would try to give them dollars and they would take them and then they would try to sneak them back to her and then she would find it and be all “WTF!” and then hide the dollars on one of the kids. This would go on for hours sometimes, and other people got dragged into these dollar wars. They would get so sneaky that they would put the money in an envelope and then give it to someone else to give to the recipient. I also remember being a pawn in these dollar games. I decided that I wasn’t going to do that. I would just politely refuse and then if she insisted I would take the money and be grateful. 

But I digress on the issues of dollars, which is just kind of silly.


There were two scandals this week. One dealing with a candy bar the other with Grams trying to stir up trouble.

They play bingo at this home, pretty much every night. My dads mom refused to play bingo at the home even though she was an avid bingoer stating that “They don’t play for money, and I play to WIN!” They play for candy bars, kingsize bars, of good candy; considering my dad’s mom happened to be a candy-holic I saw no issue with bingo not being real money, but that wasn’t her thing. She wanted to win the dollars. On a side note when dad’s mom said “I play to WIN,” to me I almost did a spit-take but was able to hold it together until after I left. See, my dad liked to play Hearts online. I happened to be in the room when he was playing once, he was getting himself all in a tizzy. He was bitching about all the people leaving the games and it pissed him off. I started asking questions as he was telling me about his games…more or less bitching about the other gamers and also learned my dad had zero Hearts gaming ediqute. The people were leaving because they didn’t want to play with him – he was actually known as being an ass so much so that people left games with him in them. He goes says “I play to WIN!” I looked over at him and said “Holy shit, you’re a damn grifer….In Hearts.” After that I kept trying to get him to roll an undead warlock in World of Warcraft because I could totally see him corpse camping some newbs just for the fun of it (not so fun for those getting camped – we’ve all been there).

I did get my mom to try playing a human mage. That ended horribly. Sort of horribly, my parents did spend a few hours giggling at the computer as my mom ran herself into walls and my dad shouted at her to “Kill that guy,” only to have my mom say “I can’t kill that guy it’s a guard.” Then a few moments later “Kill that guy,” followed by “I can’t that’s another player.” “Why can’t you kill other players?” As if the entire point is to just kill other players (like I was saying, undead warlock – perfect). I shouted back “because you have to get past level 2!”  

And here I am rambling again. 

So Grandma wins these candy bars, she happened to get a Butterfinger and I do love the Butterfingers, but I’m not a big candy eater either. Grandma was saying that she was saving the candy bars and then she was going to give them away. I could have asked for the candy but I didn’t because I’m not going to ask. Now is she offered I would have totally gone for the Butterfinger. I happen to mention the candy bars to my mom about how she’s saving them to give them away, and my mom says that she’s saving them up until she has enough for everyone. I said something silly about Butterfingers being the best, so them at some point my mom mentions to Grandma that I like Butterfingers so Grandma gives my mom the Butterfinger and tells her to give it to me. 

Well, my mom forgets and then I go visit Grandma. The first thing Grandma asks me is if I had got my candy bar. I have no idea what she’s talking about. Actually she said “Have you seen your mom lately.” “Yeah, we went over for dinner on Sunday.” When Grandma found out my mom didn’t give me the candy bar is was SCANDAL! Grandma goes WHAT? I gave her that candy bar last week to give you! What do you think she did with it! Like my mom hid away and ate this king size candy bar to spite me and my grandma. I just said she probably just forgot about it. Grandma tells me I better tell my mom I want my candy bar. oooookkkkkkk, got it! 

Then we do the whole dinner with the family thing and my mom out of the blue goes “Did you see what’s in my candy drawer?” I did just check out the candy drawer and said “Yes, you have a bunch of good stuff in there.” She’s been doing this dieting thing so her candy drawer has had shit for choices. This week there were some of those double chocolate candy/cookie things from Keebler, Dove milk chocolate and some other stuff I don’t like. “Did you see you’re Butterfinger?” 

I did see the Butterfinger but I didn’t thing anything of it and went for a Dove chocolate because they are small. I then learned that my mom got the riot act from my Grandma about not giving me my candy bar and that surely she must have eaten it instead of just forgetting about the candy. 

Grandma also tried to stir up some trouble about another issue, but that is another story, for another day. 


As one gets older normal things become mysteries

I think there is a point as you age you start to regress from a fully functional adult set of logic back to a child like state. 

I had to go pick up my grandma’s tax paper work to drop off at the preparers office. I went over her paper work, which I think she was somewhat agitated that I was going through all off of it, but I figured let her be miffed than have something important not get in the pile. Grandma as I’ve mentioned in the past is in an old folks home. She requests that they send her refund check to the old folks home and no her house. I tell her that I’m pretty sure that they have to send it to the home address. Ok, let’s faced it I know 100% with out a doubt that the IRS is going to send things to a home address and that their feelings on special circumstances is “to bad, so sad.” But, with Grandma’s you don’t just say that they are wrong you soften it. I being the genius I am suggest getting it direct deposited and listed off all the wondrous benefits of this amazing technology of direct deposit those being no paper check, no driving to get said paper check, and getting the deposit weeks before a paper check would arrive. I thought I had won…but, no. 

I told her I needed a voided check or a deposit slip, she didn’t get why I needed that even though I explained it several times. She then asked me what a routing number was. I had to show her. She said “Well, I’ve never noticed that before.” 

Uh…what? Not like you haven’t been paying your own bills since I was a small child and you’ve never ever once wondered what the hell all those numbers are at the bottom of the checks. I’m calling bullshit on that one. 

And then there was the other piece of paper work that has nothing to do with taxes but came from some financial institution. Grandma was stressing about this paper work, I read it and as I was reading it she was telling me about it and that she had to call them but there was no number (incorrect but I’ll get to that later). I read it, and tell her “You don’t need to do anything, you can throw this away if you want.” She thought I was CRAZY! Then informed me that she brought it down to the office ladies and had several people read it and no one could explain to her what it is and no one, not one told her she didn’t need it and could throw it away. Including various people looking up information on the Internets. 

My response was “Well, then no one bothered to actually read it.” And then I explained each section, the top section is the instructions part which states “….if this information is correct, no further action is required.” The next part I explained is nothing more but a series of definitions and the information after that is the information (grandma) provided to the company…which I made sure confirm is was correct. Grandma stops looks at me and says “No one bothered to explain it like that to me, that makes so much more sense, why didn’t anyone tell me that earlier.” Uh, because no one bothered to read it?

Anyhow, I told her to save any financial paper work she had questions on and I would review them. I think my mom is just exasperated by Grandma at the moment with saying she’s moving home the end of the month with no plans (yeah….that’s the end of this month which is this week.) 

And this all brings me to my theory that old people become more child like the older they get. My neighbor, a sweet old lady at the age of 87 who lives on her own and is quite spry still has her child moments. Such as a few years ago when we had a bad storm roll through. It was wet and we have a number of trees that are in desperate need of trimming on the street. One of the larger tree branches was hitting the power cables sending down a shower of sparks all day long directly across the street from my neighbors house. She sat there in her house all day watching the sparks rain down from the power cables and waiting for one of the neighbors to return home from work. 

My husband happened to be the first one home. As soon as he pulled in the drive way she came running out of her house, catching Husband in the drive way and franticly telling him about the sparking wires all day. She asked him “What should I do?” He asked if she had called the cable company, she said no and if he thought she should do that. At this point he said that she didn’t need to call them and that he would take care of it. She was so thankful that someone was home and could handle the situation. 

When he told me I just said “I told you, they lose their grasp on logic and become like children.”