Today I spent a good amount of time in my kitchen, cleaning things up for in prep for Pop-Pop's visit to watch the kids tomorrow, so Mom and Dad can have a date. While I was cleaning, I began thinking about my appliances. I have to give props to my coffee maker. It was gifted to me when my youngest son was born, six years ago. It has had things spilled on it (cord and all), it has survived a bumpy move cross country, been poked and pulled on by my kids, and still serves up a delicious pot (or two) of caffeine heaven every morning without complaint. Which leads me to wonder, why can't all appliances be so reliable?
Next I moved onto my stove. It proudly displays "Self-Cleaning" and since I have normally had gas stoves, I haven't ever used this self-clean function, and only a little ashamedly, don't even know what I need to do beside push the button. Seriously, how can my oven clean itself. Moreover, why can't the darn thing clean off the stove-top for me too. Now that would be a serious piece of equipment.
My cable service has been frustrating me for months, it keeps skipping in the middle of programming, sometimes not even showing me entire channels, and often shutting itself off to reload several times per hour. Then, when I moved my living room furniture, I unhooked and rehooked up everything (to the same jack) and now it works perfectly. How strange is that? I wish I would have moved it a long time ago.
Toilets are a blessing too. I was fortunate to have grown up in the era where we never had to use an outhouse, thank the force of all that is good. With my son and myself being sick with stomach flu during the week, I really gave thought to how much I appreciate the person who invented the toilet. Now if the bidet was only more popular in the U.S. we would be in business!
This is not to disclude any of my other mechanical devices that are working well lately, my computer (despite being prehistoric), my BlackBerry (despite being dropped multiple times onto hard tile, due to a bad choice in purses), my TV(probably my favorite posession, and multiple others. I am just really happy that I live in an age where these things are obtainable, and that things are build to last. Now, time for another cup of coffee!
image source: constructionownerslawblog.com
Friday, March 11, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Giving Women a Bad Name
Since I have been unemployed, I have indulged in the guilty pleasure of watching the Nate Berkus show. In my defense, I like interior design and as an unemployed bum, it is sort of my duty to keep up on the junk TV on at any given time. So that, you know, just in case Joel McHale calls from the Soup to ask my opinion.
On today's show I saw something that made me really irritated. Nate usually has guests on who have a design dillema, and he helps them solve their design issues. Cool. Today though, the top story was a couple who had a "bad" wedding, particularily the first dance. Now I realize I am in the minority here, but I get so irritated with women who put so much stock in a damn wedding that it literally makes or breaks their whole entire life. It is one fucking day in a lifetime that you will spend with someone you are in love with. But there are so many women who are so hung up on their image on that one day, that their head isn't even on straight. The reason this story irritated me more than most sappy, stupid wedding stories, is because the husband was horribly ill the day of his wedding. No, not hungover, he had a respiratory flu. Difficulty breathing, profuse clammy sweating, hard to stand upright. This lady (the wife) was on the show whining about how she had always loved dancing and how it had been her dream to have the most romantic first dance with her husband. During their dance, the husband had to keep leaning on her because it was all he could do to stand up. She kept telling him to just stand up straight for ten minutes, "they're taking pictures." It has been 3 years since their wedding and this lady is still whining, and resorted to go on a national television show to try and get sympathy. What did the producers do? They set them up with dancing lessons from one of the instructor couples from Dancing With The Stars. The husband is a big construction worker dude, but out of what I am assuming is inmeasurable love for his wife, he does his best, and they dance the tango on TV. The wife claims to be happy now. How completely absurd! It irritates me because one selfish, drama queen makes us all look bad. If the man you are about to agree to spend your life in love with is on his death bed, and you are still going to make him go through with a wedding, try not to be so selfish and cut him a break. No one is thinking about your stupid first dance at your wedding execpt you, and in this case, they are probably remembering how small of a person you are to make your husband feel guilty for not being romantic when he is about to pass out. Sheesh, talk about giving women a bad name!
On today's show I saw something that made me really irritated. Nate usually has guests on who have a design dillema, and he helps them solve their design issues. Cool. Today though, the top story was a couple who had a "bad" wedding, particularily the first dance. Now I realize I am in the minority here, but I get so irritated with women who put so much stock in a damn wedding that it literally makes or breaks their whole entire life. It is one fucking day in a lifetime that you will spend with someone you are in love with. But there are so many women who are so hung up on their image on that one day, that their head isn't even on straight. The reason this story irritated me more than most sappy, stupid wedding stories, is because the husband was horribly ill the day of his wedding. No, not hungover, he had a respiratory flu. Difficulty breathing, profuse clammy sweating, hard to stand upright. This lady (the wife) was on the show whining about how she had always loved dancing and how it had been her dream to have the most romantic first dance with her husband. During their dance, the husband had to keep leaning on her because it was all he could do to stand up. She kept telling him to just stand up straight for ten minutes, "they're taking pictures." It has been 3 years since their wedding and this lady is still whining, and resorted to go on a national television show to try and get sympathy. What did the producers do? They set them up with dancing lessons from one of the instructor couples from Dancing With The Stars. The husband is a big construction worker dude, but out of what I am assuming is inmeasurable love for his wife, he does his best, and they dance the tango on TV. The wife claims to be happy now. How completely absurd! It irritates me because one selfish, drama queen makes us all look bad. If the man you are about to agree to spend your life in love with is on his death bed, and you are still going to make him go through with a wedding, try not to be so selfish and cut him a break. No one is thinking about your stupid first dance at your wedding execpt you, and in this case, they are probably remembering how small of a person you are to make your husband feel guilty for not being romantic when he is about to pass out. Sheesh, talk about giving women a bad name!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Absurdity
My husband has been deathly ill for 3 weeks, and has been refusing to go to the hospital. Then I found out why. If he calls in sick to work, for any reason, he gets an "occurance". 6 occurances in a year and you are done. He already has 4. Anyway, I finally convinced him to go the ER on Wednesday, and it turns out he has pneumonia. Now I just need to rant about the absurdity that someone can be fired because they are genuinely ill. What if he had been disabled in a horrible car crash? Even with Pneumonia, he was breathing really shallow and he drives a forklift. Imagine he's at work and passes out. Worse, passing those germs on to his coworkers. I would think it is a liability for him to go in when his lungs aren't functioning properly, but his union/employer is black and white. I don't think he will get fired, even though he took Thursday and Friday off under doctor's orders, but he will get at least one more occurance. Just the idea of it sounds so absurd to me. How can it be legal to fire someone because they are sick? What kind of country is this?
Friday, January 21, 2011
Abuse
Random thought of the day: Wonder if anyone has ever clicked the "Report Abuse" button after they've had their ass kicked.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Chewing on Window Sills
So, I figured that once I get a following, my adoring readers will surely want to know exactly what I am thinking at any given point. As I didn't want to jam up my other, crowded blogs (I am so adored, I have 2 followers already and only one of them is my best friend. The other girl I only like a little.) Sarcasm. I'm not sorry. Oh yeah, as I was saying, this is my new spot to just...let my psychosis show.
Other titles that didn't make the cut include:
Betcher Wundrin (for all my fans in Wisconsin. Yah Der Hey!) Trust me, that last part is a sentence in WI.
Chromosomal Damage
Things I pretend to know about
Quitcher Bitchin, which could be battling a phrase I once overheard one coworker tell another (again, in WI), "Putcher backfat away." Close call.
I think I chose the best one, but I'm sure I will think of a better one somewhere down the line and be itching to start another blog just to use my clever title.
I passed up a photo of Freud spanking a lady with a sex toy. I was tempted to use it, but didn't want folks to get the wrong idea. I am, in fact, a prude and would never allow such smut on my page. More sarca...forget it. If I have to point out the sarcasm, you should not be reading my page. Not kidding about the Freud photo though, Google Images.
My knees ache today. What kind of chromosomal damage do you have to have to agree to live in a place where it is so cold that the precipitation freezes on its way down to kick your ass? Whenever I see one of those cheery people hopping around in the snow with a smile plastered on their face, I want to punch them in the liver. Calm down, I'm not talking about the kids. Kids don't smile in the snow because they're too busy trying to manage the ever-present excess of snot, before it takes over the entire bottom half of their face. It is also impossible to suck that stuff back in once it starts to freeze. Pity.
Betcher wundrin how I feel about the Packers, being that I live in Green Bay, eh? More than the tragedy of an entire state being emotionally obsessed with a football team, is the greater tragedy of all the cheese-eating(read, out of shape), eighties-hair-wearing, most ungodlfullyawful (that's my word, no stealing it) team-gear-wearing yodles toting around the most ridiculus accent known to man. I have a theory about the accent, and about those who have it vs. those who dont. I will save that topic for another post, it'll be my little cliffhanger, so my readers return.
Did you ever chew on a window sill when you were young? Just wondering. You are, in fact, still reading my blog.
I encourage readers to share their touching stories of window sills and frozen snot. As for me, I am off to find more inappropriate photos of the father of psychology.
Happy Crunching!
Other titles that didn't make the cut include:
Betcher Wundrin (for all my fans in Wisconsin. Yah Der Hey!) Trust me, that last part is a sentence in WI.
Chromosomal Damage
Things I pretend to know about
Quitcher Bitchin, which could be battling a phrase I once overheard one coworker tell another (again, in WI), "Putcher backfat away." Close call.
I think I chose the best one, but I'm sure I will think of a better one somewhere down the line and be itching to start another blog just to use my clever title.
I passed up a photo of Freud spanking a lady with a sex toy. I was tempted to use it, but didn't want folks to get the wrong idea. I am, in fact, a prude and would never allow such smut on my page. More sarca...forget it. If I have to point out the sarcasm, you should not be reading my page. Not kidding about the Freud photo though, Google Images.
My knees ache today. What kind of chromosomal damage do you have to have to agree to live in a place where it is so cold that the precipitation freezes on its way down to kick your ass? Whenever I see one of those cheery people hopping around in the snow with a smile plastered on their face, I want to punch them in the liver. Calm down, I'm not talking about the kids. Kids don't smile in the snow because they're too busy trying to manage the ever-present excess of snot, before it takes over the entire bottom half of their face. It is also impossible to suck that stuff back in once it starts to freeze. Pity.
Betcher wundrin how I feel about the Packers, being that I live in Green Bay, eh? More than the tragedy of an entire state being emotionally obsessed with a football team, is the greater tragedy of all the cheese-eating(read, out of shape), eighties-hair-wearing, most ungodlfullyawful (that's my word, no stealing it) team-gear-wearing yodles toting around the most ridiculus accent known to man. I have a theory about the accent, and about those who have it vs. those who dont. I will save that topic for another post, it'll be my little cliffhanger, so my readers return.
Did you ever chew on a window sill when you were young? Just wondering. You are, in fact, still reading my blog.
I encourage readers to share their touching stories of window sills and frozen snot. As for me, I am off to find more inappropriate photos of the father of psychology.
Happy Crunching!
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