I should've quit while I was ahead.
A couple weeks ago everyone thought I was super-cool and Bob Vila-ish because I made my garden boxes. Which is 4 pieces of wood, screwed together at the ends. To make, you know, a box. Oh, and on one of them I attached an old window with hinges to make a cold frame for the garden.
I got a false sense of confidence, maybe I am handy! Maybe I am capable!
I am not.
For the past couple days, I've been trying to put shelves up in our bedroom closet. Our rooms are so small that there is, honestly, NO ROOM for a dresser in either bedroom. In the girls' room, we put up wire shelves, works beautifully. (We = Joey O and Michael).
So we went to Menards today to pick up some pre-made shelves and brackets. My attempt a few days ago to cut out a shelf from wood in the garage. FAIL, big time. So tonight I hole up in the damn closet. I have the stud finder, mark the center of the 2 studs that I plan to mount the brackets on, and get ready to roll.
First bracket - drill the pilot hole, get everything place, screw it onto the wall, it's in the stud, I feel like a stud, SUCCESS! Piece of cake!
Second bracket - MOTHER EFF! Stud finder did me wrong. Let's try here...Nope. Okay, here...Nope..okay, I think this is it, must be it, sounds different when you knock on it, let's go for it. Start to make the hole, and....WTF?? IS THIS STUD MADE OUT OF CEMENT!?!?! MOTHER EFF, I say! Mother eff indeed!
So I just walked away for now. Irritated and definitely put in my place about my fake handy-ness. I realize now that 4 pieces of wood in box form is the extent of my capabilities.
Though I am determmined to get this fricking shelf up. I hate living out of clothesbaskets. It's so so so pathetic.
Random-onium
Is randomonium a fake element made up by the Scooby Doo gang for one of the movies with Freddie Prinze Jr.?
I've been a neglectful blogger, which I'm admitting to, but I'm going to try to start doing a random Monday summary. If you are one of my FBBFFs (Facebook best friends forever, duuuh) or follow me on Twitter, most of this will likely be repetitious...but maybe not. Who knows?
OK, I'll work backwards, kinda.
Random stuff:
1) Just got into a fight with the vacuum cleaner. I'm pretty sure it won, but after disassembling the handle to remove a clog, I got it put back together. However, the clog remains, I'm pretty sure.
2) I'm watching the American Experience on the Jonestown Massacre. There was just another program on it on...History Channel or one of those...and I'm so fascinated by the whole thing, and avidly watch and read about it, but when they talk about mothers crying to not kill their babies, and the babies getting the cyanide/Kool-Aid with a syringe....Wow. I find myself near tears. Can you imagine? And the parents that got out and survived? Just wow.
3) I ran to Target to grab dish soap after the girls went to bed. I come home, and Char is on the sofa in the front room, Mike is standing in front of her. A bit of tension in the air. She's bawling. M says, "OK, go ahead and ask Mommy...do you really think you'll get a different answer??" and I find out, through sobs, that Char was playing her GameBoy under the covers, playing Mario Bros., and couldn't beat a castle, and wanted M or myself to beat it for her so she could get to the next level. And had the balls to get out of bed at like 8:15 (45 minutes after bedtime) to ask. AND she and I had just discussed crying over video games earlier today, and that we won't have any video games if they make her freak out and cry. Criminy.
4) I inadvertently sparked an interest in Charlotte for the tv show "Small Wonder." Heaven help me.
5) Char watched the Nick Kids Choice Awards (Um, DVRed from this weekend) and hooted, hollered, cheered and booed throughout the whole damn thing. LOVE HER! She'd come into the kitchen every 4 minutes to tell me the REAL PEOPLE names of some of the tv stars.
6) I'm in the kitchen, making cookies for my Abby, and I hear Char say, in a very Amy-ish tone "Ellie! That's it!" and I went in to see what was shaking, and Char just tells me, "I'm really sorry mama, but she's being a menace."
7) They growled at each other throughout the day. No further comment on that one. Though we continue to suspect Ellie is feral, ala BOBO on "Walk Like a Man"
8) Why can't I stop stalking people I haven't seen in 100 years? Why do I feel a need to keep tabs on people I knew a lifetime ago?? (That said, I've had a couple of good finds in the past couple of weeks)
9) Again with the beer, El is always swiping cans and marching around the house with them.
10) Ellie kept slamming the bedroom door shut and cracking up, and knocked a shelf off the wall, dumping pictures on me and the floor in a totally Rube Goldberg-esque fashion. Or like the game Mousetrap.
11) Shan jogged my memory that last summer she dubbed Ellie "Malibu Baby" because she had a killer tan, blue eyes, blonde hair. I swear I sunblock the crap out of my kids.
12) Thank god ER is finally ending. I'm anxious to see what program will now have "VERY POWERFUL EPISODE" teasers every fricking week.
13) Rachel is a super cute prego. Hate that I feel like I've been absent her whole pregnancy, yet feel okay with molesting her belly whenever I do see her.
14) I want to get carrier pigeons (since I can't have chickens or bees) and Michael stated that he would rather do falconing. WTF??!!?!? (I think he just wants an accessory for the Ren Faire this summer.
15) Um, wouldn't you be so irritated if you worked with Allison DuBois, and she always pulls the ol' "Oh, no, I know what happened. I saw it in a crazy dream that woke me up to annoy my cute husband." every time only to have her get more pieces every 10 minutes to fill in the blanks and totally change what tree she had you barking up against for a crime? Oh. Just me? Oh well...
I think that's about it. So I'll leave you with a couple of pics to tide you over until I get my ass in gear and post more regularly.
Ellie and Michael, jamming (without a flash. Sorry)
Charlotte as Svengoolie. WITH CRAYOLA MARKER. Egad. Thankfully she sweated most of it off...
Ellie not jamming, but rocking for sure.
Char looking content as she finished up a dream weekend with a Wolves game with Uncle Joey.
I've been a neglectful blogger, which I'm admitting to, but I'm going to try to start doing a random Monday summary. If you are one of my FBBFFs (Facebook best friends forever, duuuh) or follow me on Twitter, most of this will likely be repetitious...but maybe not. Who knows?
OK, I'll work backwards, kinda.
Random stuff:
1) Just got into a fight with the vacuum cleaner. I'm pretty sure it won, but after disassembling the handle to remove a clog, I got it put back together. However, the clog remains, I'm pretty sure.
2) I'm watching the American Experience on the Jonestown Massacre. There was just another program on it on...History Channel or one of those...and I'm so fascinated by the whole thing, and avidly watch and read about it, but when they talk about mothers crying to not kill their babies, and the babies getting the cyanide/Kool-Aid with a syringe....Wow. I find myself near tears. Can you imagine? And the parents that got out and survived? Just wow.
3) I ran to Target to grab dish soap after the girls went to bed. I come home, and Char is on the sofa in the front room, Mike is standing in front of her. A bit of tension in the air. She's bawling. M says, "OK, go ahead and ask Mommy...do you really think you'll get a different answer??" and I find out, through sobs, that Char was playing her GameBoy under the covers, playing Mario Bros., and couldn't beat a castle, and wanted M or myself to beat it for her so she could get to the next level. And had the balls to get out of bed at like 8:15 (45 minutes after bedtime) to ask. AND she and I had just discussed crying over video games earlier today, and that we won't have any video games if they make her freak out and cry. Criminy.
4) I inadvertently sparked an interest in Charlotte for the tv show "Small Wonder." Heaven help me.
5) Char watched the Nick Kids Choice Awards (Um, DVRed from this weekend) and hooted, hollered, cheered and booed throughout the whole damn thing. LOVE HER! She'd come into the kitchen every 4 minutes to tell me the REAL PEOPLE names of some of the tv stars.
6) I'm in the kitchen, making cookies for my Abby, and I hear Char say, in a very Amy-ish tone "Ellie! That's it!" and I went in to see what was shaking, and Char just tells me, "I'm really sorry mama, but she's being a menace."
7) They growled at each other throughout the day. No further comment on that one. Though we continue to suspect Ellie is feral, ala BOBO on "Walk Like a Man"
8) Why can't I stop stalking people I haven't seen in 100 years? Why do I feel a need to keep tabs on people I knew a lifetime ago?? (That said, I've had a couple of good finds in the past couple of weeks)
9) Again with the beer, El is always swiping cans and marching around the house with them.
10) Ellie kept slamming the bedroom door shut and cracking up, and knocked a shelf off the wall, dumping pictures on me and the floor in a totally Rube Goldberg-esque fashion. Or like the game Mousetrap.
11) Shan jogged my memory that last summer she dubbed Ellie "Malibu Baby" because she had a killer tan, blue eyes, blonde hair. I swear I sunblock the crap out of my kids.
12) Thank god ER is finally ending. I'm anxious to see what program will now have "VERY POWERFUL EPISODE" teasers every fricking week.
13) Rachel is a super cute prego. Hate that I feel like I've been absent her whole pregnancy, yet feel okay with molesting her belly whenever I do see her.
14) I want to get carrier pigeons (since I can't have chickens or bees) and Michael stated that he would rather do falconing. WTF??!!?!? (I think he just wants an accessory for the Ren Faire this summer.
15) Um, wouldn't you be so irritated if you worked with Allison DuBois, and she always pulls the ol' "Oh, no, I know what happened. I saw it in a crazy dream that woke me up to annoy my cute husband." every time only to have her get more pieces every 10 minutes to fill in the blanks and totally change what tree she had you barking up against for a crime? Oh. Just me? Oh well...
I think that's about it. So I'll leave you with a couple of pics to tide you over until I get my ass in gear and post more regularly.
Ellie and Michael, jamming (without a flash. Sorry)
Charlotte as Svengoolie. WITH CRAYOLA MARKER. Egad. Thankfully she sweated most of it off...
Ellie not jamming, but rocking for sure.
Char looking content as she finished up a dream weekend with a Wolves game with Uncle Joey.
Suck it, 33rd year!
So...and not to deter anyone who is 32 from celebrating their next birthday, but...So far, 33 sucks. It sucks butt. It sucks butt a lot.
As we all know, I spent my entire birthday afternoon wet-vaccing the basement which of COURSE flooded with the torrential storms we had on Sunday/Monday. Of COURSE it did. Whereas when I first moved in here, 6 years ago, we'd get some seepage, like a bit of a damp floor, a day after a storm, NO, now I contemplate just getting some koi and making the basement a water garden retreat.
So Tuesday night out (my birthday) was a whole mess of fun. BUT then there was Wednesday morning, which wasn't the hangover I anticipated, but the fact that Char didn't want to play hooky from school and, in fact, got up with my mom at 4am, FREAKING HER SHIT OUT because I didn't come pick her up that evening (Yeah, Michael and I were tanked) and that she HAS to go to school in the morning and so on. So at 8:10am my mamasan calls me to let me know, so I have to drive the typically-20-minute-drive to my aunt's house (where the girls stayed), get Char dressed for school, hair brushed, etc., get the girls in the car, and then haul ASS to get her to school on time. And then go home to continue wet-vaccing the effing basement which of course has another inch of standing water that seeped on through. So Wednesday blew a little bit.
Yesterday was Char's actual birthday, which was anticlimatic because, you know, we had her party on Saturday so we just hung at my aunt's house for a spell and I was barraged with a ton of topics that I don't want/need/care to deal with at this stage, because I have FINALLY hit the point in my life where I have FINALLY managed to disengage from caring about 90% of my family's crises and drama because, you know what? I try to lead a DRAMA-FREE life, and it is a bit of work, but not that difficult. Come on people. Plus whenever I see this group and get the weirdness, it rubs off on me and I stew about it for days - what can I do to help? Are they nuts or am I just a bitch? why are they doing this to themselves, their families, etc.??? So it was nice to come home and stew at that last night. Oh, and while running laundry, the drain in the laundry sink was sloooowwwww. Remember that part for a couple paragraphs. It'll come into play.
Now, today was about day 4 of me being completely unable to get anything done around the house. Well, day 3, I guess. Tuesday/Wednesday - wet-vaccing. Thursday - Char's birthday. Today - running around with the girls all morning and putzing around with them a bit this afternoon. So throughout all this, our house, typically borderline squallorish, has mutated into white trash frat house chic...without the chic.
Tonight...Sigh. Tonight. Mike is out with some friends. Cool. I decide to clean the house and run some laundry so we all have green apparel for the St. Patrick's Day parade in Elmhurst tomorrow. I go downstairs, take the load out of the dryer, put it in a basket. Lift the lid to the washer. The new washer. Like 2 month old washer. Oh, look, the laundry drum is still FILLED WITH FUCKING WATER, despite the whole cycle, including rinse and spin being done. You know, I just flick it back to rinse & spin and let it go at that. The laundry sink has a little water still in it. Hmm, not too good. I start plunging. What's that? Yeah, there sure are cracks in the plunger! Rendering it A) less effective and B) a second fountain in the basement to spew disgusting water on me (first being the wet-vac on Tuesday). So I bundle the girls into the car, at about 7:25 or so (Um, bedtime is 7:30) and off we go to Menards. Did I mention they hadn't eaten yet?
Come back from Menards, set them up in pjs with some Wendy's (and I ate a jr. bacon cheeseburger. Maybe it is the meat on a lenten Friday that is causing my bad luck? Whatever, take THAT Catholic Church!) and a WonderPets, and headed back downstairs with my plunger and new snake. OH! Also, the kitchen sink, while doing dishes earlier, filled with water and wouldn't drain. OH, and I had to go outside and get the drill for the new snake. But by the time we returned, it was all totally drained. Whatever. Screw you kitchen sink, and the horse you rode in on. OH, and Ellie pooped on the way to Menards. I had no spare diaper and no time to remedy that, and so I had the poo smelling baby at Menards. Past bedtime. CLASSY.
Anyway, go downstairs, try plunging the laundry sinks. No! Why would that work? What's really cool, is that now the water has overflowed completely from the washtubs and the floor is soaked. AGAIN. Seriously? Seriously? So I whip out the snake, the big boy, and feed it in (mind you, whole sink is filled with water. I should not attempt these things without Michael around. Smart, independent, capable girl stuff aside, there are things that I call "Boy Jobs" and this is now one of them) through the cold cold water that is up to my elbows. I operate the drill a bit...feed it in...spin a bit..feed it in...STUCK.
On what, you ask?
Oh it came up the other washtub. And is stuck on the little cross bars on the drain. Isn't that drole? No really? Isn't it just lovely? And it is hooked on there pretty nice, too. This is actually when I came upstairs and ate the Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, put the girls to bed, and decided to go online instead of be productive because, apparently, even when I try to be productive, 33-year-old Amy massively effs it up.
AARGH.
Mind you, this is just me venting. Totally just venting. And in all likelihood, I will delete this post within a few moments realizing that no one wants to read this loooooong whiney tale unless they already hate me and like to see me wallowing in misery.
I swear I'm going to go give it another try. Right after I finish watching last night's Sober House.
UPDATE: OH, and all I wanted to do tonight was put up some new window treatments that I picked up at Target, for the front room. I now feel like Dante from Clerks with his whiny "I wasn't even supposed to be here today!"
UPDATE, 10:45pm: Michael is home, and managed to get the snake spring off of the drain cross bar. However, we're still left with two very full laundry tubs (did I mention how very very cold the water is?) and a pile of laundry that, in addition to being dirty, is also now wet from the water that leaked on the floor. Translation: Even if I could put the laundry off, it isn't like I could recycle any of the jeans I wore this week. They are all grossly soaked. He's now fiddling downstairs to get the washer to drain, once again, into the free standing creepy toilet.
As we all know, I spent my entire birthday afternoon wet-vaccing the basement which of COURSE flooded with the torrential storms we had on Sunday/Monday. Of COURSE it did. Whereas when I first moved in here, 6 years ago, we'd get some seepage, like a bit of a damp floor, a day after a storm, NO, now I contemplate just getting some koi and making the basement a water garden retreat.
So Tuesday night out (my birthday) was a whole mess of fun. BUT then there was Wednesday morning, which wasn't the hangover I anticipated, but the fact that Char didn't want to play hooky from school and, in fact, got up with my mom at 4am, FREAKING HER SHIT OUT because I didn't come pick her up that evening (Yeah, Michael and I were tanked) and that she HAS to go to school in the morning and so on. So at 8:10am my mamasan calls me to let me know, so I have to drive the typically-20-minute-drive to my aunt's house (where the girls stayed), get Char dressed for school, hair brushed, etc., get the girls in the car, and then haul ASS to get her to school on time. And then go home to continue wet-vaccing the effing basement which of course has another inch of standing water that seeped on through. So Wednesday blew a little bit.
Yesterday was Char's actual birthday, which was anticlimatic because, you know, we had her party on Saturday so we just hung at my aunt's house for a spell and I was barraged with a ton of topics that I don't want/need/care to deal with at this stage, because I have FINALLY hit the point in my life where I have FINALLY managed to disengage from caring about 90% of my family's crises and drama because, you know what? I try to lead a DRAMA-FREE life, and it is a bit of work, but not that difficult. Come on people. Plus whenever I see this group and get the weirdness, it rubs off on me and I stew about it for days - what can I do to help? Are they nuts or am I just a bitch? why are they doing this to themselves, their families, etc.??? So it was nice to come home and stew at that last night. Oh, and while running laundry, the drain in the laundry sink was sloooowwwww. Remember that part for a couple paragraphs. It'll come into play.
Now, today was about day 4 of me being completely unable to get anything done around the house. Well, day 3, I guess. Tuesday/Wednesday - wet-vaccing. Thursday - Char's birthday. Today - running around with the girls all morning and putzing around with them a bit this afternoon. So throughout all this, our house, typically borderline squallorish, has mutated into white trash frat house chic...without the chic.
Tonight...Sigh. Tonight. Mike is out with some friends. Cool. I decide to clean the house and run some laundry so we all have green apparel for the St. Patrick's Day parade in Elmhurst tomorrow. I go downstairs, take the load out of the dryer, put it in a basket. Lift the lid to the washer. The new washer. Like 2 month old washer. Oh, look, the laundry drum is still FILLED WITH FUCKING WATER, despite the whole cycle, including rinse and spin being done. You know, I just flick it back to rinse & spin and let it go at that. The laundry sink has a little water still in it. Hmm, not too good. I start plunging. What's that? Yeah, there sure are cracks in the plunger! Rendering it A) less effective and B) a second fountain in the basement to spew disgusting water on me (first being the wet-vac on Tuesday). So I bundle the girls into the car, at about 7:25 or so (Um, bedtime is 7:30) and off we go to Menards. Did I mention they hadn't eaten yet?
Come back from Menards, set them up in pjs with some Wendy's (and I ate a jr. bacon cheeseburger. Maybe it is the meat on a lenten Friday that is causing my bad luck? Whatever, take THAT Catholic Church!) and a WonderPets, and headed back downstairs with my plunger and new snake. OH! Also, the kitchen sink, while doing dishes earlier, filled with water and wouldn't drain. OH, and I had to go outside and get the drill for the new snake. But by the time we returned, it was all totally drained. Whatever. Screw you kitchen sink, and the horse you rode in on. OH, and Ellie pooped on the way to Menards. I had no spare diaper and no time to remedy that, and so I had the poo smelling baby at Menards. Past bedtime. CLASSY.
Anyway, go downstairs, try plunging the laundry sinks. No! Why would that work? What's really cool, is that now the water has overflowed completely from the washtubs and the floor is soaked. AGAIN. Seriously? Seriously? So I whip out the snake, the big boy, and feed it in (mind you, whole sink is filled with water. I should not attempt these things without Michael around. Smart, independent, capable girl stuff aside, there are things that I call "Boy Jobs" and this is now one of them) through the cold cold water that is up to my elbows. I operate the drill a bit...feed it in...spin a bit..feed it in...STUCK.
On what, you ask?
Oh it came up the other washtub. And is stuck on the little cross bars on the drain. Isn't that drole? No really? Isn't it just lovely? And it is hooked on there pretty nice, too. This is actually when I came upstairs and ate the Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, put the girls to bed, and decided to go online instead of be productive because, apparently, even when I try to be productive, 33-year-old Amy massively effs it up.
AARGH.
Mind you, this is just me venting. Totally just venting. And in all likelihood, I will delete this post within a few moments realizing that no one wants to read this loooooong whiney tale unless they already hate me and like to see me wallowing in misery.
I swear I'm going to go give it another try. Right after I finish watching last night's Sober House.
UPDATE: OH, and all I wanted to do tonight was put up some new window treatments that I picked up at Target, for the front room. I now feel like Dante from Clerks with his whiny "I wasn't even supposed to be here today!"
UPDATE, 10:45pm: Michael is home, and managed to get the snake spring off of the drain cross bar. However, we're still left with two very full laundry tubs (did I mention how very very cold the water is?) and a pile of laundry that, in addition to being dirty, is also now wet from the water that leaked on the floor. Translation: Even if I could put the laundry off, it isn't like I could recycle any of the jeans I wore this week. They are all grossly soaked. He's now fiddling downstairs to get the washer to drain, once again, into the free standing creepy toilet.