like a horror movie, only bettah

Oh, hai. I know nobody's reading--a good portion of all y'all are on vacation this week, unlike your hard-working (ha!) blog hostess I might add, or otherwise occupied with your "lives" n' shit--but I will nevertheless babble on. It's what I do. Consistency and all.

So today I decided to move out my refrigerator and clean behind it while I was also cleaning the hell out of the rest of the kitchen. The reason for that we'll get to later<--foreshadowing, bitches. Now lemme say this. You all know I am seriously domestically challenged in some matters. There are huge holes in my knowledge base when it comes to these things and also a certain disinterest. I tend to clean what I can see is dirty when I notice it's dirty (which sometimes is promptly and sometimes is well after a naturally housekeeping-alert person would notice same) and clean everything else when the planets align correctly. Or never. Whichever comes first. Which is all leading up to the fact--which you can probably guess, 'cause my readers are an intelligent bunch--that I haven't moved the refrigerator all the way out in, well, a number of years that would probably embarrass the average person to admit. I, on the other hand, have no shame. But also? In my defense, I didn't realize that refrigerator pulled out so easily. <--more foreshadowing, yo.

I wish I had taken pictures. There was in places about half an inch of...gunk...stuck to the floor. Also, dust bunnies so big that one of them actually clogged the hose in my dyson. I had to take it apart to clear it out. It takes one hell of a killer dust bunny to disable an expensive vacuum cleaner. You have to admit that's impressive. I turned three buckets of water/Mrs Meyers pitch black before I got all the gunk off the floor. That's also pretty impressive. If I do say so myself.

It occurs to me that "normal" people probably pull out their refrigerator and clean behind and under it like twice a year or something. (The first person who tells me no, they do that every month, is getting a punch in the head.) I dunno. Where's the satisfaction in that? When you do it every ::mumble:: years, it's a fun big project that leaves you feeling like you've really accomplished something, *and* gives you amusing anecdotes. When you do it twice a year, it's just another tedious chore.

After I did that, I washed my walls and my cabinets. Remember the last time I decided to completely degrease everything in my kitchen? That lead to a trip to the ED and then three months of freaking out I was going blind from eye fungus. Fun times! I did not spray anything above my head and look up at it today. Who says I never learn from experience? Also, washing my cabinet doors only took like an hour or two as opposed to two days like it did then. See, you do *that* every two years and you get no good stories out of it. Sigh. I have to say, however, that with the new hardware I put on the cabinets then and keeping them clean and without a build-up of dulling crud on them, I have decided I actually kind of like them, unfashionable as they may be. Which is just as well, because they aren't getting torn out anytime soon.

Now here's where we go back to why I tried to move the refrigerator and I ask you for an opinion. Which is a waste of fucking typing because a.) y'all aren't reading and b.) any time I ask for opinions or advise, no one can even be arsed to give me some anyway. (I swear, it's okay to tender advice. I won't hold you to it. If I don't like it, I won't take it. NO PRESSURE.)

As mentioned previously, I've been looking at lighting. Looking at lighting for the hallway has me also looking at lighting for the kitchen. And thinking about other things for the kitchen. I've been reading design/decorating forums again. Someone on one of these forums where people have fancy shmancy kitchens, many of which are the size of some people's friggin apartments, said she had moved into a new house with a kitchen that still had cabinets from the 50s but had vinyl flooring that had been put in within the last ten years. And to her surprise, she found she kinda loved it. Not the looks of that particular vinyl, but the fact that it was soft and warm and very easy to care for and didn't shatter whatever you dropped on it. She started asking about alternative flooring to the standard fancy shmancy hardwood or tile in kitchens. (You may or may not remember, but two years ago when I was last thinking about this *I* told y'all I didn't want tile or hardwood in the kitchen, no matter that I was supposed to.) People told this lady about trendy shit like cork and marmoleum, but a surprising number of them said, hell, yeah, luxury vinyl tile! It's come a long way and you shouldn't discount it. Then they showed pictures of their fancy shmancy houses with vinyl flooring in their kitchens or baths or laundry rooms or mudrooms.

Which eventually led to to looking at this on the Home Depot website.

At least in the picture, it is very close to the wood color of my cabinets, my baseboards and my hardwood in the other rooms. It is also dirt cheap. I think I figured it out and it would cost me like $300 for a new floor. And all the reviews say it's ridiculously easy to install and looks good. (Except for the one disgruntled customer. There's always one disgruntled customer. Who types in all caps.) So I was thinking about it. It's floating. You put it down on top of the floor you got. That's why I experimentally tried moving the refrigerator, because I thought that might be a bitch. It wasn't. I don't even think I'd have to move the stove. The vinyl that's in there now doesn't go all the way to the wall beneath it.

So my question is, do you think I could attempt this? I was thinking I could maybe bribe a couple of my friends who also know nothing about installing floors to help me with it in exchange for food. Just for, y'know, moral support. (Mr Indemnity, if I could convince him to help, is at least good at measuring shite. I helped him put up new curtain rods a few months ago and he was very precise with that measuring tape. Ell oh ell.)

Okay. I'ma go wash my kitchen floor, because the rest of that hasn't been done yet.

xoxo

in which i probably get myself in trouble

Again.

So, last night after I had had three...possibly four, I lost track...glasses of vinho verde and my son was napping on the couch with his belleh full of chocolate molten lava cake instead of amusing me with Scrabble, I amused myself. (This is, I may say, one of the most useful parts of being an only child. You learn at a very young age to amuse yourself. Comes in handy.) What'd you do, Andrea? Well, kids, I watched many many different youtube clips purporting to teach me how to change out my own light fixtures. They all agreed that this is an extremely simple procedure that any moron can do in, like, 15 minutes or less. In my semi-drunken state, I agreed that, yes!, it looks moron-proof.

So then I spent tons more time looking at flushmount fixtures online so I can replace the ones in the hallway I just painted. (One of them is fairly non-offensive other than the shiny brass 80s trim on it; the other is the ugliest thing you will have ever seen, unless you also saw the chandelier that used to hang over my dining room table until I had the new pretty one put in a couple years ago--that thing was even more heinous.) I am thinking of replacing both of them with these:



Boob lights. I am really not overly fond of boob lights, but your choices of simple, inexpensive flushmount lights suitable for a hallway are not extensive. Most of them are boob lights. Or they are these:



which are basically the same as the non-offensive one that's already up there, in a different finish. All well and good, but I hate changing the lightbulbs in those things. Hate. Thinking the boob light might be easier.

Anyway, I went to my favorite store today to look at what they have not on the internet in way of lighting and while I was there, I bought something that some, but not all, of the youtube videos told me I should have for this job: a voltage detector. Just in case flipping the breaker didn't really work. Or something. I dunno how that could happen, but better safe than sorry and it only costs $15 and it is a cool tool. Fool n' her money, blah blah fucking blah. I also looked at new toilet seats because my son cracked his, but didn't buy one because when I was standing there in the aisle I could not swear to you what shape the old one is. I was 90% sure it was "elongated" rather than round, but there was the little nagging seed of doubt. Then I wandered down another aisle I usually don't go in and what did I find but new registers for the heat. I want some of those too! But, again, I couldn't tell you by eyeballing what size all the different ones I have are, so I need to whip out my tape measure and return at another time.

Provided I don't electrocute myself first.

Love n' kisses,
Any Moron

xoxo

merry xmas, adventurers

See title.

Do you know what Santa brought me for Christmas? After it hasn't happened since July, and blood tests that showed my FSH was through the roof, and I gave the Benevolent L almost every tampon and maxipad I had in this house? That's right! My period! Should I be surprised? Probably not!



My theory is that my little mini-diet I went on to shed my bulking fat liberated some of the stored estrogen my chub cells were hanging onto and spat it out into my bloodstream.

What Santa (really my boss E) actually brought me today was a Christmas Eve deep tissue massage. Holy fuck, did I need it. I don't know if I mentioned it but I screwed up my right shoulder doing dips several weeks ago, and since then both my shoulders and my neck have been so tight I've been waking up with faux carpal tunnel syndrome from my brachial plexis being compressed. Fun times! Meanwhile I think I also tweaked my SI joint a little and my hips and low back got really tight too. So basically I was a mess. (I hope someone bought me the foam roller I put on my wishlist! I thought D would, but my Christmas present from him is the wrong size for it to be that.) I didn't realize till I was on the table today that my IT bands were also fucked. I could barely stand for her to touch them. Eek! Think that's contributing to the tight hips, kids? Anyway, my massage was very nice, though I kind of wish I had had enough prezzie money to spring for a 90 minute treatment.

Downtown Salem was surprisingly deserted today. Then I went to TJMaxx and found out where the populace was. Sigh. I decided at the last minute to get D a new hoodie because I realized the auxiliary one he wears when the one he likes is in the wash has a huge rip in the sleeve. And since I won't turn up the heat, it's the least I can do, right? While I was there I bought myself a Bruins hooded t-shirt for the gym from Santa. Then I went to the wine store for...oh, you figure it out. At the cash register, much like candy for children, they had tempting nips. I bought myself a mini Baileys Godiva liquer which I will begin drinking very shortly, as Christmas Eve calls for cocoa, no?

I hope all y'all get everything you wish and hope for...





...without any Grinchiness in your life to spoil it...



...and without your having to pimp yourselves out for prezzies...



And for those of you whose fondest Christmas wish is that I stop posting stoopid cat pictures, here is my present to you:



Feliz Navidad, mis dulces amigos y amigas.

xoxo

wrapping...

up some odds n' ends. (Oh, a Christmas-related pun. We're all topical up in here, bitches.)

Mr Waldman's minions (one familiar, one new) came yesterday as scheduled and I have a correctly working kitchen faucet, a garbage disposal, and the ability to use both sides of my double sink. I am very sure this is worth the huge check I wrote them, if not least for the fact that my friends will no longer spray themselves in the face accidentally while attempting to use said sink. Plus, my new faucet is pretty. So pretty and retro. Mr Waldman's minions told me it's a good faucet, too, nice and heavy and sturdy. Got the thumbs up. They had to re-pipe because the new garbage disposal didn't connect exactly the way the other one did, even though I bought the exact model they told me to. They didn't charge me for this, on the hush-hush. I promised I would not call their boss and demand to be charged more. Ha!

Plumber #1 and I bonded over the fact that I made them listen to 90s music the whole time they were in my house. (Hey, I was paying them enough that *they* did not get to pick the radio station, you know?) He told me he was going to see Tool at the Gahden and also that he had seen No Doubt and Bush tour in the 90s, which is the tour Gwen and Gavin hooked up during. I told him that was historic. Lulz. This was, by the way, after they already told me they weren't going to charge me for putting in the new pipes, so it wasn't like our embarrassing shared musical tastes were responsible.

In other news, I still have not finished painting the back door. Also, I think I fucked up my dryer when I pulled it out from the wall to paint. Smooth move, Andrea. I need an effin' keeper. Should have ascertained whether Plumber #1 was single. Maybe he needed a date for Tool.

And in other, other news, I have eaten nothing today but cookies. And I am not even ashamed to admit it. I went to Costco yesterday after my plumbing adventures and there were people handing out food samples literally every twenty feet. We tried all of them, pretty much, from the tempting (tiramisu, six kinds of cheese) to the not-so (granola bar chunks, dry cereal), JUST BECAUSE IT WAS THERE. I will be detoxing after New Years', but right now my body is saying, yo! feed me moah! and I am listening.

Okay. Happy December 22, all y'all.

xoxo

this is weird

I had on CNN in the background and there was a commercial for... Kazakhstan. The country. In Central Asia. Opining on what a wonderful, modern place it is. It wasn't even suggesting we all pack our suitcases and come visit or anything. It was just saying, yeah, Kazakhstan's cool.

Okay.

I kept waiting for it to be some kind of parody or something, but it wasn't.

Has anyone else seen this? I swear to god, if I ingested any psychoactive drugs this afternoon, it was by accident.

In other news, I came home this afternoon to (besides very odd advertising on CNN) a very warm, comfortable house. Then I realized that was because my son put the thermostat on 68 while I was at work. Oh, we are gonna have a talk about this later. It ain't gonna be 68 in here this winter unless he gets a job to pay my electric bill. Grr.

Finally, did I tell you about my experimental banana bread last week? I can't remember. Anyway, it didn't come out very well, but I'm trying again tonight. After I run to the store, which I should be doing instead of typing to you all. Long, long time readers will remember my historic inability to make zucchini bread, even though I tried for many summers in a row with a plethora of different recipes. Banana bread seems to be going down the same route. But yet I persist. Just like, um, Kazakhstan! Yeah, that's it...Kazakhstan!

xoxo

this morning's little adventure

My doorknob malfunctioned and I was locked in my bedroom. I was like, huh. I have no tools in here to take the doorknob off. How'm I getting out? (In future I'll have to start sleeping with a screwdriver beneath my pillow.) Luckily my son was awake, heard me rattling the knob, and came up to see if I needed help.*** Then he freed me with a very specialized piece of equipment, by which I mean a quarter. One two three: you can't make this shit up! That would have been the best call-in of all time: "Uh, yeah, I'd love to come to work, but unfortunately I am trapped in my bedroom." Okay, okay, I could have done an Evil Kitty move, popped out my window screen and climbed out onto the garage roof if I really had to. None of the neighbors were probably awake at 5:45 on a Saturday to witness it, so I'd have even probably kept my dignity intact. If I didn't break anything getting off the roof.

Speaking of you can't make this shit up: prison bus convo the other day. Young woman bitching on her cell phone for twenty straight minutes about someone (relative? freeloading friend?) who is living at her house and pissing her off at every turn. "She don't want to work. She wants to sit at home all day, smoking and eating. She's a stripper--she can't afford to get any fatter!" Ell. Oh. Ell. Honey, you just said she doesn't want a job. What does she care if she outgrows her pasties and thong?

xoxo

***People who live alone: learn from my experience and keep tools in your nightstand! Though I guess most people who live alone don't close their bedroom doors at night? I would anyway in the winter, because it maximizes my space heater output. It was like a sauna in there this morning. Cozy! But, yeah, my skin looks like shite.

i am bemused

As of this morning, IT refuses to let me look at my own other blog because of pr0n content. Apparently pictures of me in my underwear WITH ALL MY PARTS COVERED are too hawt for Partners Healthcare. And this is probably going on my permanent record somewhere. I can't even tell you how amused/appalled this makes me. Should I appeal it?!??

I will of course have to write a post on it over there, ranting about how some computer dweebs are sexualizing totally non-sexual pictures that are meant to show my muscular development, muscular development which is a hard-won product of many hours at the gym working my ass off, and which is done for me, not for "the male gaze." Fuckers. I bet I could out-deadlift every one of them.

Um, hi, kids. How are you all? I finally got almost all of my Christmas shopping done. This is what my son asked for: a multi-pack of the fish oils he likes, two pairs of Champion (so not even expensive) basketball shorts, and a $50 amazon gift card. It is a far cry from the days when I would have to hit up every Toys R Us and discount store in eastern Massachusetts, looking for some illusive action figure that everyone was sold out of, lest my kid's Christmas be totally ruined. On the one hand, yeah, a much more pleasant shopping experience. On the other? It's kind of sad to me that he really wants nothing--sad for reasons that are hard for me to explain. But I don't wanna get all holiday-melancholy here, because you know this time of year is hard for me and I've been doing pretty good staving off those feelings. Better just to channel them into rage against those IT bastards.

xoxo