Wednesday, August 23, 2017


I have admittedly not done such a great job of maintaining my commitment to regular updates on this blog.   However, I'm taking heart in the fact that it at least hasn't been five years since my last post.

I'm not even sure of the impetus for this post tonight.  I feel weary.  Beyond weary, if I'm being honest and really, why wouldn't I be here?  Here in the safe space I've created (and then shared publicly...oh goddess what am I doing?).   No, it will be fine.  It will all be fine.  Eventually.

I feel constantly moving, incessantly managing, increasingly falling, and creatively stalling.

The world bewilders and confounds, with every day bringing more inputs to process, more knowledge to uncover, more perceptions to hone.   I once described it as an overwhelming cacophony, being thrust into a world at once alien and mysterious.  Too many voices, too many choices.

I know I'm privileged, and yes I'm using that word deliberately.  There are so many out there who don't get the option to say no, or the opportunity to hide from the day to day barrage.   Who don't have a voice, particularly now in this hostile culture.

Were that I could summon my faculties to support with grace, with wisdom, and with the love I feel in my heart.

To have to admit that I can't, at least not right now.  To fall back on that privilege, safe in the knowledge that I can do so, regretting that I need to.

And pouring out my heart to the masses (there may actually still be a couple of you out there).  A litany in my head of the kind admonishions, delivered by dear friends and loving family to treat myself with the care I would show to others.

My next post (hopefully before too long) may be more humorous, or it may not.  I hope you come back either way.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Labor on Labor Day Weekend

Hi!  Yes, yes, I know.  Hush.  Be happy I remembered my password to the blog site.  :P

In the grand tradition of procrastination, we are now spending our weekend Spring cleaning.   As I run the carpet shampooer, my mind wanders, but apparently not that far, for I'm still in the house.  I had a great idea for a blog post, and decided that I should actually do something about it.  Congratulations! My need for sustenance and inability to do physical labor for copious amounts of time has led me to this, along with blueberry bagel with cream cheese and red currant jelly.  Did I mention:  RED CURRANT JELLY.

Now without further ado, Reasons My Cats Hate Meround #58463:

  • I took one to the vet and they took his temperature.  If you don't know what that means, be happy.  He wasn't.
  • I won't give one butter to eat every time I'm in the kitchen and it looks like I might be near the toaster.
  • I turned the vacuum on right beside one of them.  (I actually can't blame her on that one, but in my defense, she's sentient and not where I last left her, meaning I didn't see her until it was too late.)
  • I won't let them into the garage to recreate the great pee-fest of 2015.
  • I closed the bathroom window so one couldn't get access to the dead foliage trapped there, and eat it.
  • I came back to the room and wanted to sit in my chair at my computer.  Which is apparently someone's choice of bed this week/month/quarter.
  • I'm not getting up fast enough when it's dark and they want bedtime treats, and sometimes I mock them when the cries for said treats become strident.
  • I won't let the one who's obsessed with the eucalyptus wreath eat any of it.
  • I keep stealing their poop, even the artfully designed non-litter box statements of their happiness at any given moment.
  • I won't let them eat off my plate, or lick my food/plate/bowl until I've finished eating.
  • I keep washing the bathmat they keep christening.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

A New Trend in Shaming

I'm completely ignoring my absence here.  Mostly because I can't really remember what I've been doing for several months to be able to justify said absence.  I think it's involved cleaning out closets and power washing. 

All over the internet are examples of pet-shaming.  If you haven't seen them then you suck and get an internet life already.  Basically these are photos of beloved pets, taken with a note of what these pets have done inappropriately.  They range from mildly humorous to wildly hilarious, mainly because the animals in question do not care they're being shamed.  

In that vein, allow me to present what I hope becomes a viral trend on the internet, photos optional.  

This is a car conversation and just for the record, Mr. Eggshells and I are simply exhausted from throwing together and executing a wedding in 3 days for dear friends.  There's a reason I'm in project management and he's crazy.  

That's no moon, it's a space station. 
In an effort to keep awake while driving (highly recommend!), we were sharing stories of things we'd read recently.  Mr. launched into a story he'd read about a woman that forgot to remove her moon cup for 2 weeks.  For those not in the know, a moon cup is a type of feminine protection for that time of the month (as opposed to all the other times of the month).  It's shaped (as one would expect) like a cup and generally has a piece of plastic used for removing it from whence it hath been inserted.  

Now I'm not sure how anyone would actually forget that was inside them (although what a testament to comfort!) but we'll just leave that part of the story alone.

This is the ensuing conversation:

Mr.:  I always forget to remove my moon cup.
Me:  You don't wear one.
Mr:   Sure I do.
Me:  Where?  Down there?
Mr.:  Yup!
Me:  Which means it's on upside down, right?
Mr.:  I suppose so.
Me:  So it's basically a dunce cap.
Mr.:  No...
Me:  This is a new thing now.  Penis shaming.  
Mr:   Um, no.
Me:   No, really.  A picture of a penis with a dunce cap with the note "I make bad decisions."  I think it'll catch on, for reals.

Okay internet, make it happen.  

Sunday, September 29, 2013

I Can't Think of Anything to Say...

This is an odd post.  Not that the others aren't, but I apparently started writing and then...forgot.  So the first part is from sometime in August and then miraculously in a fit of time-bending awesomeness, I am posting as of today.  I think this means I win the Internet, but don't tell anyone, cuz I'm so not sharing.


That subject line may not be quite true.  It's either I can't think of anything, or can't sift through the myriads of thoughts in my head, make a selection and use that as my theme.  OMG THE PRESSURE!

All this is because I'm feeling obligated to post.  After my recently* renewed commitment to blogging more regularly, I ended up missing a couple of weeks months.  I'm worried that if I don't get something up in the blogosphere today* I'm just gonna slack again.  

It's not even that I didn't have good reasons for not posting.  I've had a lot (a lot, no really, A LOT) of "stuff" going on, including 1200+ miles of travelling and 95% more social time than my introversion typically allows, extra hours at work (but these ones are filled with more work than the others so I think it balances?), and going through 10 years of items around my home in prep for post-selling the house moving.

I'm exhausted just writing that.  You people just exhausted me.  That's it, guilt is much easier, I'm stopping here and taking a nap.


Just kidding.  However, maybe I should take a nap, since I just deleted about 5 paragraphs explaining why I didn't write yesterday.  The irony is that I didn't write yesterday because I put my back out and was spending quality time on muscle relaxants...but really, it probably would have been a better post than the one I'm writing now.  Because then I wouldn't care if I was babbling...if I'd even noticed I was.  

Besides all these other things I've been reading George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series (aka tv's Game of Thrones series).  I was late coming to the books, and now that Season 3 of the tv series is done, I've finished the corresponding book.  As anyone who has read or watched, nothing and no one is sacred or safe in these stories, and as much as I hate George a little, I'm in awe of his ability to engage his audience in his story.  

Mostly I just hate the fact that I want to see what I'm reading played out by actors and they haven't done this season yet.  C'mon, universe, turn at my bidding already!



* I am highly amused that I was correct about not posting/slacking.  I didn't get this post up that day and did slack again.  Self-knowledge is the key to procrastination, folks.  ;)  I am the Mistress of my own Destiny.

Not much has changed since that post back then.  I'm still fighting my way through 10+ years of house crap, fighting monsters and zombies in a dungeon (because that's just how I roll...get it?), and working my fingers to the bone making sure everyone in the known universe has wireless connectivity.  Had some relatively disappointing life news but I'm in 'shake it off and look at the positives mode' - which honestly may have something to do with the pear-infused vodka and orange juice I've been swilling in between naps.

Speaking of naps, I've been watching a lot of Netflix in the background while I've been working (evenings, weekends, when I should be sleeping, when I should be doing anything else).  I caught up what was there for Glee (which rekindled my Journey obsession), and am now making my way through 24.  I think I'd watched season 2 & 3 when they aired but it fell off my radar after that.  When I'm catching up series like this, I tend to do it in rapid mode...obsessively watching any time I have a little to spare.  Now how does this tie into naps?  

Apparently watching copious amounts of 24 leads to naps that include sex dreams about Kiefer Sutherland.  Since he was a crush of mine back in the "Lost Boys" days (don't judge me!), it probably wasn't a huge leap to retrigger that.   Of course, in the same dream cycle, I also dreamed about taking a shower with Mr. Eggshells and a container of crinkle fries and accidentally peeing in it (the container, not the Mr.).  Like you do?  So I'm not sure if this means more vodka, less vodka, more 24, less 24, more fries, less fries, or just a regular appointment with a licensed therapist.  If I figure it out, y'all will be the first to know.

In other news, I cut 10" of my hair off and donated it to Locks of Love.  I haven't had it this short in when I was a senior in high school back in 19-shut your face it so has not been that long.  I'm enjoying it, even though every time I see myself in the mirror I get startled.  

And finally, the Mr. and I, along with some good friends went to see Maroon 5 on Friday night.  He had *a* beer and I had no alcohol.  We're still wrecked 2 days later from the late night and standing.  And...sadly, Adam Levine was "rocking" a 70's porn style mustache that did not suit him well, and he didn't take off all his clothes.  I cried a little.  But all in all, it was a great show and it's an awesome reality check to feel like you're 25 years too old for a concert.  ;)

Posting now, before I forget again.  Toodles noodles!

Sunday, July 28, 2013

La-la-la-la I Can't Hear You

After my recently renewed commitment to blogging more regularly, I ended up missing a couple of weeks.  I'm worried that if I don't get something up in the blogosphere today I'm just gonna slack again.  

It's not even that I didn't have good reasons for not posting.  I've had a lot (a lot, no really, A LOT) of "stuff" going on, including 1200+ miles of travelling and 95% more social time than my introversion typically allows, extra hours at work (but these ones are filled with more work than the others so I think it balances?), and going through 10 years of items around my home in prep for post-selling the house moving.

I'm exhausted just writing that.  You people just exhausted me.  That's it, guilt is much easier, I'm stopping here and taking a nap.

Enjoy this piece I wrote a few weeks ago when I actually felt like writing.  ;)


I've mentioned before my inability to sleep well for, well ever in my life number of years, and if you were good readers you'd have been paying attention and I wouldn't have to remind you what I tell you.  Honestly.

One of the ways to cope has been to use earplugs.  I didn't particularly like using them when I lived alone, which made it all vicious circle of hearing noises that kept me awake or worse, NOT hearing noises and imagining them anyway.  (By the way, the imagined noises were all giant rats and thieves trying to break in through a window.  True fact.  Sometimes being amazingly creative works against me.)

Being of overly-sensitive alertness in the wee hours of the morning meant that any time I wasn't at home in my own bed imagining vicious rodents, I was likely visiting someone whose household included a snorer.  Now I have nothing against snoring or the people that do it.  Some of my favorite people snore.  Like me.  Although I think when women partake it should be "sighing lustily" or something.  I might be crossing writing genres tonight though.

Upon first being married to Mr. Eggshells, the combination of the move, the stress of new house, new country, new marriage, new life etc. meant that for the first few years, I had bouts of insomnia.  Thank <insert deity of your choosing> that now I've grown accustomed to his presence to the point that now if he's not snoring I can't sleep.  (DOH!)  And if you think I'm kidding on thanking that deity I'm not.  I know I can imagine what crapola less than stellar items I'd be writing if I were more brain dead from lack of sleep than I am just being my normal brain dead.

Knowing this might be an issue, I had stocked up on my preferred brand of ear plugs.  ----->
These are great because they're wax and they mold to the shape of your ear without being abrasive.  I've used them for 20+ years with great results...can't even hear the thieves with them in.

One of the other things I'm sure you all recall reading in this blog is the severity of my allergies at the best of times, and the impact that moving to a foreign land has had on those.  I spent my first two years here chronically swollen from various environmental allergens that got added to the already ridiculous list of environmental and food allergens already bombarding my poor immune system.  As such, I've had significant respiratory congestion, which of course affects everything else in my body because everything's connected to the hip bone.  (Hey, don't look at me like that, I didn't write that song.)

I had noticed that after a particularly nasty bout of allergies/cold/flu that my hearing hadn't rebounded.  There was tinnitus, and balance issues (more than usual, shut up!) that were lingering so I went into the doctor's office in case I had upped the ante and gotten a case of pneumonia or bronchitis.  After explaining my concerns, he checked my chest (with a stethoscope, perverts!), my nose, and my ears.  He said "they're pink".  Not comprehending what that meant, I said, "Pink, as in inflamed?".  His reply, smirking "No, pink as in it looks like wax."

Yes, the wax ear plugs, contrary to how they behaved in Canada, changed their form and structure.  I believe that this was completely due to the air and water in the United States being of an inferior quality.  Apparently over several months, small particles of wax had accumulated and hardened in my ears, causing the symptoms I was experiencing.  

The solution was, of course, to have me put drops in my ears.  Wax softening drops.  When I went to the pharmacy I was not overly pleased to see that pretty much every box had a picture of an older gentleman with 3" hairs coming out of his ears as the poster boy.  Erm, man.  But opting for the "suck it up, buttercup" method to get me through this, I bought the kit and religiously* used them for the two weeks the doctor had required.

*Complete with incense and chanting.

The day of the appointment arrived and I hurried there, hoping to find the relief I needed from the now sore and cranky ears (they were pink now, but from all the machinations with the soaking kit).  At this point I should explain that to get the wax out now that it was apparently softer (!), was a matter of filling a syringe with water, inserting the needle into the ear canal to get it behind the wax block and gently pushing the water through to flush out the wax.  Except it didn't work the first time.

The doctor then walked me out of the exam room, to the washroom off the lobby.  We did get some odd stares.  Considering where I live, that's saying something, too.  In the washroom, he had me lean sideways over the sink and we tried it again, using gravity to help.  The wax popped out, my eardrum felt like it shattered, and I had a wave of off-balance that dropped me to my knees.  But I could hear out of it again, which was a relief.  After a few minutes of recovery, we repeated for the other ear.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Happy, hearing, all is right in my world, I paid my visit fee and headed out to the car to take myself home.  However I forgot that I had been nearly deaf, so when I started the motor, the radio which had been barely audible on the drive there nearly blew my entire body out of the vehicle.  

At least I know now how old age might feel like.  If I make it there.  

Sunday, July 7, 2013


Hey y'all!  I'm not going to point this out but it seems that I've finally gotten into a rhythm with updating.  Weekly isn't too bad considering I have a full time job and am trying to write at least three "great American Canadian Can-Am" novels.  But I didn't mention it, lest I jinx it.

I'd also like to mention that to my utter shock and incredulity, I have a few other readers besides my established family and friends.  Welcome, to those of you who have inadvertently stumbled here and got stuck.  I promise the traps will disintegrate once the brainwashing is complete.

Okay, so here's the thing.  I was in counselling a while back.  Any of you that know my history won't be surprised it was grief counselling.  It did me a lot of good, even just to be able to talk to someone outside of everything that was going on.  One of the things she told me during a session was that my dreams seemed to be very vivid and that I recalled a lot of very specific things from them, and that it wasn't always the case when people were trying to recount things from their subconscious.  I remember a lot of dreams from my childhood and have also had recurring dreams, that pick up months or years later, like a story.  I've always put my dream style down to a couple of things - one, having a very active imagination, and two, having the ability to pick up a lot of events around me unconsciously that get processed later by said subconscious.  

All that lead in was to tell you all that I dream about Mississippi.  Only it's in London, England.  Now, I've been to both places, and had an extremely enjoyable time with good friends and lots of activities.  This dream keeps coming back to me every few months, and it's always Mr. Eggshells and I, in Mississippi for the July 4th celebration.  But it's actually London.  But then there's our friends from Mississippi (yes, I'm going to keep typing it out because it's FUN).  The activities vary from improv shows with drag queens to driving roundabouts, to a gaming shop, to a huge house part, etc...  It's like both of my visits to those places merged in my head and became one big conglomeration of story.  The thing is, pretty much none of what I dream about it actually happened.  In either locale.

And the other thing is, the dreams stay with me all day afterward.  So right now I'm in mild anxiety mode because we were dropped off by our coach bus on a hill in Mississippi/London in the middle of the night without a hotel reservation or any idea when or where we were to meet up with the bus the next day to continue on back to home. I keep thinking I need to Google for the bus station, but I don't know if I should try or  It's confusing being me.

Oh, and did I mention that one of my biggest childhood fears was being lost because I got off a bus at the wrong stop?  Damn you Family Affair and damn you Buffy and Jodie for getting off the bus and traumatizing me for life!  I actually did get off the bus once because it got to the end of it's run and everyone got off.  I thought it was going to go back to the station and we'd be lost because I didn't know where that was.  My babysitter and sister had to follow me off because I staunchly refused to get back on the bus, and then the babysitter called my Dad to come pick us up.  The lasting memory I have of that was Dad didn't even get mad at me.  And he was my hero that day because he saved us.  I was 6 years old I think.  LOL

And now...five things from this week:

5.  Mr. Eggshells, upon hearing that I had people adding me on GooglePlus and commenting on my blog, immediately said I was famous and he was going to buy a Ferrari.

4. I checked my blog page stats (cuz I hear you're supposed to do that) and was surprised that 11 people had visited my page today.  When I mentioned it to Mr. Eggshells he said "Is that the post of your boobs?"  I said it didn't indicate which blog post they were reading and wait, I don't have a post of my boobs.  He said "Oh that must be on my blog then."  

No, he doesn't have a blog.  At least not one of which I know...  I'm not sure if I'm more upset by the thought that he has my boobs on a website or that the girls only got 11 page views today.   :/

3.  Challenged by a friend, I found this website of alternate punctuation.  While it offers endless possibility and you may see some of it here on the blog, for now I'm just too darned lazy to install the font pack.  It may have had something to do with the heat wave that was still trying to kill me, or at the very least, causing numerous volumes of unsleepability.  It is so a word.

2.  On July 4th, being as exhausted as we were, we spent the day watching movies.  There is nothing more amusing to us geek types than a dated movie that uses such amazing high tech as "a program that will assess the exposed silver from a Polaroid picture and scan these things called pixels to try to re-create the photo image".  Ah the good old days.  (Oh and the first person who asks me what a Polaroid is will be slapped.  Mercilessly.)

1.  For the first time since I was 4 or 5, I GOT STUNG BY A BEE.  I was out fighting with the garden (no, not even going to try to pretty it up and call it gardening), when four of the damn bastard bugs swarmed my head.  I managed to kill one but not until after he stung me in the abdomen.  Yes, I know I'm a horrible person because we need bees but my primal instinct kicked in because I DIDN'T WANT TO DIE FROM MULTIPLE BEE STINGS.  The fact that they're probably the only thing I'm not allergic to doesn't matter.

Y'all have a good week!  :)

Sunday, June 30, 2013

The Week in Review

Well, well fancy seeing all of you masochists fine folks here.  It's a summer heat wave here in the Pacific Northwest, which basically means I'm sitting in the hottest room of the house since it gets the best internet connection.  My ultra geek husband recently told me about these new super cool new light bulbs that actually have wi-fi in them.  So they not only light up your house, but act as a booster/extender signal.  Conceivably this means I wouldn't actually have to sit in the pit of Hades just to write y'all a blog entry.  At some point.  In the future.

I'm not a geek.
Which is not today.  So as a testament to my utter stupidity love for you all I thought I'd recap a few of the week's highlights.  This time in numerically ascending order because screw you David Letterman!  (No, not really.  I like him and all but, well, no.)

1.  I killed a dragon!  Okay...I helped kill it. was a dragon built out of wood and canvas. actually helped us kill it by damaging itself. was a pretend dragon in a game.  (The fact that this is listed as a highlight of the week probably says something about me, but darned if I know what it is.)  Oh, and here's a map picture of the place where the dragon lived before we killed it. 

I have to explain too, we have a person playing this tabletop game with us via Skype.  Because the group is not only "geek", but "technical geek", we had a craft lamp attached to the chair behind the laptop to be able to attach the webcam to sit above the table map.  It was pure genius and I realize by just explaining this I'm losing any non-geek cred I might have.

2.  I figured out how to get photos off my phone!  As evidenced by my admission of technological prowess, just the fact that I can use a phone is reason to call someone important and report it.  I don't know who but I'm sure one of my smartass readers will let me know.

They remind me of candy.
Anyway, I mentioned in this blog post that I'd gone to a beading class and made a pretty.  And now you can all see it too!  You can also see the injury on my wrist referenced in the same blog post above, where I fell while fighting the Ivy.  Sometimes the symmetry of life is just astounding.

3.  I'm not sure what #3 was going to be, really, but I distracted myself with the comment about the light bulb above and a funny that happened when I'd first moved here to the U.S. and got married.  As some of you may recall, I was very very (VERY) stressed out and homesick, and everything here was weird.  I'm not a stupid person by any means, but I don't always put the pieces together in what some would term "logical".  

Hubby had bought me a bedside lamp and a couple months afterward, the light bulb went. We'd had a couple of things break that had needed to be replaced, so my comment was that we'd have to replace the lamp.  He looked at me amused with that little "Oh honey." smile and suggested we could just replace the bulb first and see if that took care of things.  Now when anything in the house breaks, we discuss if it's just that it might need a new bulb.  

For reference, that's a mini-fridge
and a standard-sized chair.
4.  Due to heat, we purchased a fan today.  Actually I described it wrong.  We purchased a big ass fan today.   On low, it sounds like a jet engine and I'm pretty sure given the chance it would eat one of our pets.  Fortunately it runs on electricity and not animal sacrifice, so we should be okay there, at least for a little while (reminder to self, pay the utility bill tomorrow because you love your pets).  

Note that the box it came in (in the back of the photo) was populated by a cat for most of the afternoon.  I love multi-purpose purchases.

So we will likely be deaf, but at least we'll be cool.  

5.  We had a potluck at work and my coworker signed up for "strawberry salad".  I thought this was going to be like a spinach salad with strawberries in it.  She said no, jello.  I then pictured a jellied fruit salad.  But NO!  It was the most amazing delicious food and in all my years I'd NEVER HEARD of it.  You take cottage cheese, add a dry jello mix and a tub of cool whip.  And fruit as you want.  Put it in the fridge, let it set a bit.  I made a black cherry one and we had it with dinner because it was nice and cool.  With the weather forecast I'm considering a vat of this.  Possibly to lie in.

And with that, I'm going to get this laptop off my lap and treat the 2nd degree burns to my legs.  ;)

Tuesday, June 25, 2013


This morning, during my normal rush to get out the door with limited time because I am increasingly unable to get my butt out of bed, I accidentally knocked a hair clip into the bathroom sink.  Unfortunately, since there's no plug or stopper in said sink, it started making its way down the pipe.  

Mr. Eggshells was nearby so he ran and got one of those tool things that boys always know the names of and I never get right anyway even when I try to name them so don't even bother now.  In almost retrieving it, it then dropped and fell further down into the pipe.

We decided to head to work and deal with it tonight.  The funny thing about "deal with it later" is that later always comes.  I mentioned to Mr. that I really didn't like it when things I did, even by accident, meant more work for him so he told me that when it came time to retrieve the clip, I would have an active role so I could learn.

Anyone who has met me, or read more than one or two blog posts here, has probably surmised - and correctly - that I'm a bit accident prone.  The fact that Mr. Eggshells even entertains the notion of me helping with anything beyond sitting in a chair is a testament to his overwhelming yet charming naivete faith in and love for me.  

I'm on the floor of the bathroom, loosening the plastic pipe (and yes, I did have to ask if it was a lefty loosey/righty tighty scenario), and doing rather well.  With the first clamp spot.  The second was a little hard to budge, but Mr. Eggshells got it started and I finished up.  As I'm asking if the pipe just pulls out once loosened, I am actually pulling the pipe out.  

Now the pipe is full of water.  A little had dribbled out as I was removing the plastic, and so I asked Mr. if I just needed to dump it out.  At his positive response, I did so.  Right into the sink above me.  

I replaced the pipe and got out of my wet clothes.  But since I was successful, now I'm a plumber, right? 

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Updating the Blank Title After Publishing The Blog...Because Classy is How I Roll.

Before you carry on reading, I wanted to remind y'all that if you like to keep up on this blog, you can sign up for email alerts when a new post is up.  That's what I've done and it's SO helpful for me to know when I've posted something new!  Plus, when the email comes in, my phone makes this whistling alert sound and Mr. Eggshells answers it with the Old Spice jingle.  It makes me want to sign up for all the things.  All.the.things.

My news for this week is...

I am wiped out.  I'm not sure when exactly it happened but I think I ran out of both mental and physical energy on the same day earlier this week and I've been coasting on fumes ever since.  I decided I should go back and figure out where this might have happened.

Work as usual, busy day of...whatever it is I do.  Honestly I've never had a job where ADD was a requirement and I've learned the hard way to finish a task and remove it completely from my brain lest I start bringing this stuff home with me.

Wait, I just remembered I went on a site walk to a water tower.  I'd never seen one up close so that was fun.  Lots of walking and we got lost, but I swear it wasn't my fault, even though I was navigating and the guy driving is a liar, I'm pretty sure of it.

Monday evening was work around the yard.  Since Monday is garbage day, we like to make sure we're the first of our neighbors to refill the gigantic bin.  Since ours is quality garbage*, it lines the bottom of the bin and makes a nice buffering bed for their crap garbage.   Yard work included the Damn Ivy which I have now made a proper noun because in many parts of the yard it's as large as a linebacker.  (And I know what that means now because I watch football.)

*I know someone's going to ask: it's quality garbage because it's ours.  Duh.  :P

Mr. Eggshells and I were working steadily as the rain started, which is really not a big deal - if life stopped here in the Pacific NW because of a little rain, we'd never get anything done.  When it started thundering we decided maybe we didn't want to swede the rainy golf scene from Caddyshack, and I had one last gigantic rope of Damn Ivy I wanted to remove.  But it was stuck, and stuck good.  Have I mentioned Damn Ivy is almost as stubborn as me?  I gave it 3, 4, 5 good pulls and then my stubborn had kicked up a notch, because I was definitely going to win this one.  Except that when I gave it one last mighty attempt and it broke free...I wasn't prepared.  Down I went, fortunately on my well-padded posterior (I knew there was a good reason for keeping that...).  Happily I missed implanting any body parts on the re-bar that was on the ground nearby.  I was graciously allowed to warm a chair for the rest of the evening and not get into anymore trouble, while Mr. attempted to recover from the near heart attack I'd given him.

You'd think that would have been enough, but there was still a whole week to get through.  First thing Tuesday morning I had a client meeting at their office, so I drove myself to work.  That was the first change to my morning routine.  The second was discovering rather unfortunately that my flash drive with my half-written, decidedly non-work-related novel had fallen off my key ring sometime last week and had been floating around the office.  No one had looked in the flash drive until that morning though, so at least there were only  a couple of us to witness that dramatic and unwelcome intersecting of my personal life and work.  Happily, I work with respectful people who understand boundaries, but even though things were fine, I was feeling a little off-kilter.  Which is exactly what you want when you're an introvert in a new client situation.  Trust me, you really really do (shakes my head while I say this).  In the end, I think things went fine, and I'm sure it was a growth opportunity.  Or something.  I'm calling it a win, and now my flash drive has a pretty label with my name on it.

Chester, 98% of the time when I'm on the laptop.
I got nothing.  Seriously, nothing.  Did we even have a Wednesday this past week?

I worked from home.  Which meant mostly that I perfected typing on a laptop with a cat in my lap.  Kind of like I'm doing now.  *stares at the cat passed out on my leg*  At least he's warm.

In between work activities I broke and repaired our paper shredder.  Because I'm just that good.

The thing I recall most about that day was borrowing Despicable Me from my boss.  If you haven't seen it, frankly you're missing out.  And probably more of a loser than I am for not having seen it yet.  Very cute.

I also came to the realization, not for the first time, that managing my work email is a full time job for one person and I already have a full time job doing the actual work.  

Bead class!  As soon as I figure out how to send myself an email from my phone (shut up, I've only had it 2 months), I'll post a pic of my pretty necklace.  I also learned that I still suck at bending wire for earrings but that my darling bestie who took the class with me is aces at it so I can delegate.  Erm, I mean partner.  

After bead class it was dinner and Munchkin.  I didn't win, but I did have the best accidental frosting on the arm incident.  That's at least something.  Plus I got to play dinosaur finger puppets with an almost-3 year old.  Definitely winning. 

It's like I just did this all a week ago.  Groceries, laundry, cooking, cleaning.  Okay well a couple of those anyway.  I did cook today.  If there are no more posts, it's because I've finally managed to accidentally kill us.  (I keep telling people there's a very good reason Mr. Eggshells does the cooking.  Because I'm smart enough to have married a guy who knew how.  ;)  )

Looking back through this list, I'm going to go with Wednesday for the day I broke.  Since I can't remember it, it's obvious that something of cataclysmic proportions happened.

And with that, enjoy your week, y'all.  :)

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Chaos Theory, or How We Store Important Things

For those of you who haven't seen my house, I am not a stellar housekeeper. I, quite legitimately mind you, have "pack rat" tendencies.  Both of my parents were masters of keeping a lot of things, and not particularly well-organized.  Now, we're not talking the level of the show "Hoarders", but surfaces are rarely empty and there are always neat treasures ferreted away in nooks and crannies.

My preferred organizational style is "piles and stacks", which to the uneducated merely look like random piles of clutter.  But no!  They are actually a valid way to keep straight various levels of... Work.  Writing.  Bills.  Mail from 2009-2011.  You know, the usual.

A couple of things have conspired to attempt to break me over the years with these collector's tendencies.  One, is that my dearest husband also has pack rat tendencies of similarly epic proportions, and two, that when you lose loved ones, there is also a time period before some things can be gone through without extreme emotional angst, so in some cases there are also boxes of things that are around waiting for review and decision-making.

Add to all this home renovations where groups of objects have been moved from room to room over the course of several years, and a decided lack of interest in managing that...well let's just say we won't be having folks over for dinner anytime soon.

Our saving grace to this very decidedly impressive lifestyle choice is that we keep important papers in a fire safe, and we make sure that when important papers have left said fire safe, they go back in.  I have documents from my native land that I'll need at retirement age, there are documents from immigrating here, and most importantly for traveling, passports.

Upon recently deciding we needed to take a trip north to see my family, we recalled that we needed to make sure our passports were up to date.  We'd gone to check on them in the fire safe a few weeks' back, but had some issues with the lock.  (read: unable to blast it open with dynamite.  A fire safe that you can't get into even yourself might be a little *too* secure.)  Now the need for passports was a little more urgent, and so Mr. Eggshells determined it was time to make a serious attempt to open the safe.

I'll spare my gentle readers the majority of the dialogue that occurred as he tackled the lock.  Needless to say there was a screwdriver, a key, the use of force and gravity, and possibly a blood sacrifice.  There were also words that I would probably repeat in certain company (okay, probably in most company because screw it if y'all haven't figured me out by now) but don't know how to spell so I'll spare you those.

Successfully opening the fire safe was both good and bad.  Good in the fact that we could now access such absolutely important papers from years ago that can now be shredded (!), and bad because the safe did not yield the passports.  I'd say we were stymied, but that's not the overriding emotion.  Unbridled panic was quite firmly at the top of the list as we looked blankly at each other and then tried to figure out the last time we'd used the passports so we could figure out where we might have put them.

And then came what I can only describe as the rabid ripping apart the house to figure out which suitcase/bag/carry on/sail bag they'd been left in.  Partway through the second closet we tackled, it dawned on me that we weren't looking for two passports, but a leather folio where we'd put the passports and other travel documents.  I was still going through bag #725 (note to self:  disproportionate amount of travel gear for the amount you travel), when Mr. Eggshells bolted from the room and came back hollering "How much do you love me?"

Replying with my standard answer of "7" (which I incidentally stole from him, lest my dear readers think I'm weird or something), he then appeared in the bedroom doorway holding the leather folio.  Both of us nearly collapsed in relief, not only because replacing three passports (two US and one Canadian) would be a gigantic pain in the you-know-what (okay I'll say it...ASS), but we may not have been able to do it in the time frame we'd need to.

Just where were the passports you might ask?  Safely stored where one would put such important documents.  In an old bag on the stairs leading into the garage.  For two or three years.

From now on I'm sewing* name tags into our undies, and stapling important documents to Mr. Eggshell's chest.  I never lose that.

*I can so sew, even if it is just so-so.  ;)