My Really Great Things and Real Food page are getting quite a few hits. So, I figured I’d share, yet another, side of myself with you.
As of this morning, I’ve added a new page, that can be found in the “Pages” list to the right of this post. It’s called Really Annoying. Why? Quite frankly because for as many things that really move me, there are just as many things that annoy me. I have to believe I’m not the only one, so I figured I’d share.
To save money, I do all the male haircuts around here. I cut Real Man’s hair, Baby Monkey’s Hair and Monkey in the Middle’s Hair. I also cut my father’s hair. My grandma (Dad’s Mom) was a librarian, but she was also a beautician. She had a beauty shop in her basement. When I was a kid, I spent a month each summer out at her house in Ohio. I would sit on the basement steps and watch her cut and foil and color and trim and style and I loved every second of it. There is definitely a latent beautician in me. There’s something about the tidiness of it all. Split ends getting cut off, falling to the floor, being swept away. It gives me quite a thrill.
About 15 years ago, when Real Man and I started dating, I asked for an Osto Clipper Set for Christmas, so I could start cutting his hair. It took awhile for him to trust me with the clippers and his fine head of hair. So, it sat unused. Finally, he got up the courage to let me at it, and apparently I did a good job, because I’ve been his main barber ever since. Poor Elio lost a good client in Real Man. Ah well…his loss, my gain.
Anyway, I cut the all the boys hair around here. It’s a different experience with each body that sits in my chair. When I cut the adult’s hair, we chat. About work, the kids, sports, life, etc. When I cut the boys hair, it’s a different story.
With Monkey in the Middle, I always have to approach the subject of a haircut carefully, because he never remembers from time to time that it wasn’t scary or loud. Then, we ask him to be a big boy and set a good example for Baby Monkey and don’t cry or make a fuss. So, he sits in the chair, covers his ears, gets the bottom lip quiver going and asks me to take off my wedding and engagement rings. One time, one time, the clipper needed oil and so in the middle of shaving his head, the clippers made a godawful sound and he was terrified. I couldn’t tell him it was the clippers themselves, so I said it was my rings, hitting the side of the clippers. Now, the ritual is that the rings have to come off with a big flourish and be set within his eyesight. Then, we turn on the clippers and he covers his ears, and then we ask him to take the hands off the ears and hear that it’s not too loud. Eventually, we get to the point where he giggles and says I’m tickling him and that it’s not loud at all. Eventually, we get to this:
Then, while Monkey in the Middle is finishing up, Real Man gets Baby Monkey so he can see a smiling, giggling, perfectly content Monkey in the Middle in the chair. He never buys it. As soon as he walks in the kitchen, the tears begin. No amount of example setting by his big brother or reasoning, cajoling or bribing by his parents can calm the storm. I do his head as quickly as possible, which is why his daycare is probably always wondering at the strange, stray hairs that remain and the patches down near the base of his neck that I can’t work around because he refuses to bend his head. Oh, and around the ears is always tricky too.
See if you can guess why.
However, in the end, the boys look sharp and neat and they are rewarded with an extra long bath with every bath toy in the house. Gotta get all the stray hairs off, and these are boys who love their baths, so an extra long one is actually quite a treat. So, I cut their hair because I love it and I’m frugal. But, let’s be honest… I also want to spare any poor, unsuspecting hairdresser from the drama.
Still, look at the outcome. Love those kids.
I know a bit about evil. Remember, I watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. So, I know about vampires and demons and the devil.
However, the evil that I deal with is far more frightening. Far more insidious. It begins as a small evil and then grows and grows, until it threatens to take over every second of your time and every inch of your home.
That’s right, my friends. The evil of which I speak is…
Laundry.
That’s right. Look at it. See the heinous beast that lives in my house. It lives and thrives and grows. It’s malignancy spreads through my home until it becomes inescapable. Look at the picture. You can see that it has even made it’s way to the couch in my bedroom. Granted, this is a major laundry day and normally, those clothes wouldn’t be there, but still…
It is the bane of my existence.
There are 5 of us in this house. There are seven days of the week. And yet…
I have a pretty good system going. I pop in a load in the morning, switch it to the dryer after work. The next step is where it all breaks down. Putting the laundry away. Ugh…
Five different dressers, three different closets. Stuff to iron. I hate it. Laundry is the one area where my normal, organized self falls apart. For me, there is no chore more tedious, more odius than putting away laundry.
By tonight, it will all be put away and my home will once again be peaceful, rid of the dread laundry. But, at bedtime, we’ll all take off our clothes to put on our jammies and our baskets will once again have laundry to be cleaned.
So, bring on the vampires, the demons, the chatty cashier at Walmart. I can deal with them all. Just don’t give me laundry.
If you read the Real Clunker post, you’ll remember that today was the day I was getting a new car. Ah well…the best laid plans and all that.
Our first visit was to Mitsubishi to look for the Outlander that their website said they had on the lot. It was the only Mitsubishi in the area that had the Outlander that qualified for the Clunker program and that had the 3rd row seat which we wanted.
Unfortunately, that particular car was the demo and already had 5,000 miles on it, which is about a years worth of driving for me. So…that was a no go.
We then decided to hit Toyota, because we also liked the Toyota Rav4. Like the Outlander; a little nicer. They had 4 that qualified and that had the 3rd row seat.
The salesman brought one out from the back. It had arrived from Japan yesterday. It was beautiful. He showed us how to work the third row seat. He gave me the keys and he and I went for a test drive. I loved it. Seriously. I loved this car. As we near the lot, after our drive, he asked if I had a trade in. I said, “Yep. We knew that as soon as the program expired, my car would die, so we figured we better take advantage!”
Then, he made that sucking in air between the teeth sound. You know the one. The one that says either “Oooohhh…major faux pas” or “Ooooohhh…this person is about to be really angry with me.”
“Yeah…well…about that. We aren’t participating in the clunker program anymore.”
My heart sank and I felt a lot like Adam Sandler talking to his ex-fiance after she dumped him at the altar. She tells him she isn’t in love with him today; she’s in love with him five years ago. To which he responds:
“…things that could have been brought to my attention YESTERDAY!”
You don’t write that on the website? It’s not the first thing you tell people when they walk in the door? You don’t take down the Cash for Clunkers signs you have hanging all over the dealership? Would have been helpful to know before I drove the car and fell in love.
Anyway, I completely get why they aren’t doing it anymore. Turns out the government wasn’t actually paying the owner of the dealership back in a timely fashion and so he said that he was gonna opt out before he put out any more money. I get it. But tell a girl, huh?
So, looks like I’ll continue driving my clunker until it clunks it’s final clunk. If you happen to be in the area and see pieces of a Dodge Grand Caravan Minivan on the side of the road, chances are, it belongs to me. Could you pick it up for me? I’m a whiz with the Super Glue.
I’m a believer in kids doing chores. Nothing that is above their developmental level, but we’re a family and we all help out.
As the oldest, Monkey Girl has the most chores, but she also has a chore chart where she gets stickers for doing her chores and then gets an allowance at the end of the week for whatever she did. It’s not a flat $5 a week, as my feeling is, in real life, you only get paid for the work you do. So, she has the opportunity to earn up to $8 a week if she does every chore, every day. However, let’s be honest…some days, she forgets to make her bed, so no sticker, so no .25 for that chore. Get it?
Anyway, my favorite chore of hers is emptying the dishwasher. When the green light is on, showing that the dishes are clean and dry, she is responsible for emptying it all out. However, although she’s quite tall for her age, she’s still too short to reach all the shelves in the cabinets. So, the deal we have is that she’ll take the dishes out and organize them on the counter, and I’ll come along later to put them away.
Why is this my favorite chore of hers? Well, because I never know exactly what I’m going to find in the kitchen after she’s unloaded the dishwasher, but I always know it’s going to make me laugh. One day, the dishes were all arranged on the counter island into a big smiley face.
Yesterday afternoon, this is what I found:
Oh boy, do I love that girl.
So, tomorrow Real Man and I are heading to the car dealer to take advantage of the Cash for Clunkers program. The minivan above has been my home away from home for the past 9 years. We’ve been toying with the possibility of getting me a new car as we’ll be paying off Real Man’s truck in September and could pick up a car payment without much discomfort. However, we aren’t good at spending money. It’s difficult for us to part with money. So, it’s been a tough decision.
I realize that from this particular view, this doesn’t look like much of a clunker. But, let me bring you closer.
During the one week I worked at camp this summer, someone backed into my car and drove away sometime during the day. Here is the first of the dents from that occurrence. The big problem from this hit and run was that they must have hit the van hard because I was unable to open the passenger door.
So, here is where Real Man used some type of lever-thingy to pry the metal back so we could open the door.
Okay, looking at that picture, I realize it’s hard to see, but the paint chipped away with the crowbar.
Right about now, most people are thinking, ‘Why wouldn’t she have gotten that fixed?’ My answer is because it was cosmetic damage and it didn’t affect the running of the car. Again, hate to spend money.
Another cosmetic problem that I deal with on this van is a factor of aging, not neglect or unfortunate happenings is the pretty strip on the side of the car. Yeah, mine? Not so pretty. It flaps on and off when you open and close the door, and if you get going at a good clip on the highway, you can hear it slapping against the side of the car.
Another example of someone scraping me and running is here:
‘Hmmm…Amy is sure quick to blame other people for the damage to her car. I think she probably is just a very bad driver.’
Yeah, I can hear you. All of these were done by others. However, I certainly can take the blame when the blame is warranted. So, here’s the damage that happened in my accident on my way to take Baby Monkey to a birthday party last year:
Also, the license plate fell off in that accident and I’ve been driving around with it in the front window ever since, as evidenced by this shot:
So, here’s the concern. It’s all cosmetic damage. The van works just fine. I get the oil changed regularly and I really don’t have any trouble with the driving of the van.
However, Real Man and I have terrible, TERRIBLE luck. We are the ultimate bad luck couple. Someday I’ll write a Real Bad Luck post and fill you in on all the ridiculously unfortunately things that happen to Real Man and I, and it’s all just bad luck. So, our concern is that if we don’t take advantage of this and trade in the van for the clunkers program, as soon as the program expires at 8:00 on Monday evening, the van will die. The blue book value is less than $3500 on this van in fabulous condition, so you can imagine what we’d get for it in the condition it’s in.
Wish us luck. With any luck and some good negotiating, I may be driving this by tomorrow night:
Anyone have any reviews of the Mitsubishi Outlander? We’ve done our research, but I’d love to hear from anyone with some real life experience with this car.
For now, though, I’m real excited.
I’ve added a new page to this blog. We have this main page, My Real Life, and we have the Real Food Page. Today I am adding Things That REAL-ly Move Me. There are some things in life that just make me very happy, and I figured I’d share those with you.
So, when you come to check this blog (every day, I’m sure) make sure you check out the things that really move me. There will be many!
So, you know how sometimes you are so tired, but you become instantly annoyed if someone tells you that you should probably go to sleep or take a nap?
My boys are like this. They are sure that they are never in need of a nap.
Me: “Patrick, I think you are a little tired and that’s why you are so grumpy.”
Patrick: “I’m not a baby! I don’t need a nap!”
Me: “Matty, you look really tired, honey. You keep rubbing your eyes!”
Matthew: “I’m not a baby! I don’t need a nap!”
Me: “Matty…I think you are going to fall asleep right there. Why don’t you let me put you in your crib for a bit?”
Matthew: “No! I AM NOT TIRED!”
I really feel bad for these kids that they have a mother who doesn’t know them at all.
We try to get together every few months, which isn’t often easy as Kim travels a lot with her business, Erin works on the weekends, Michaela is working hard on her business, and Erin and I need to make sure our husbands will be around to watch our kids. However, every now and then, the stars align and we get to hang out.
So, this past weekend, Erin drove up to her parents house, here in town, and I picked her up early Saturday morning and we caught the train into the city. Once there, we headed to Bloomingdale’s. As I told you in my last post, Erin works at Bloomie’s on the weekends, and this particular weekend was Employee Weekend, where she would get a bigger, better discount than usual. So, she figured that the NYC Lexington Avenue Bloomingdale’s may have a better selection than the one in her town. Off we went. While she was trying on jeans, I sat in a chair next to the register and let me tell you…there is absolutely no evidence of a recession at Bloomingdale’s. Women were piling up $100 jeans on the counter and paying in cash. I saw people buy 5 pairs of $300 shoes. Men were following their women carrying multiple shopping bags. The amount of money that was spent in Bloomingdale’s, just while I was sitting, waiting for Erin to try on jeans was staggering.
After Erin found the perfect jeans, we met up with Kim and Michaela for a little lunch. Then, we headed to the Wintergarden Theater to see Mamma Mia. Fabulous show. It was SO entertaining. I’d recommend it to anyone looking for a musical to see. Musicals are always a little tricky for me. See, I’m supposed to be a Broadway star. It just hasn’t worked out yet. Could be that I’ve never actually tried out. However, I go to a musical and I sob. Happy tears and regretful tears. Happy tears because music moves me like nothing else. When I hear beautiful voices, raised together in song, I get weepy. Can’t help it. With Broadway, when someone sings one of those power notes, (you know the ones), I lose it. Big time. It’s the most amazing gift you could offer your ears. Then, I cry because I think, “I should be up there. I should have tried.” Ah, the road not traveled.
After the show, Erin and I walked to the Magnolia Bakery to get some cupcakes for our families. The Magnolia Bakery is the world’s best bakery. They are famous for their cupcakes. They became so famous by being featured on Sex and the City. The girls introduced me to Magnolia two city trips ago, and since then, I’m totally hooked. They just opened a new store next to Radio City Music Hall, so we were nice and close.
You walk into the bakery and are overcome by the smell. I think if I took out my glucometer at the bakery, just the sugar in the air would make the reading go off the charts. I bought 6 cupcakes, 3 for each kid, and then one for myself for right then, because I couldn’t wait.
In this picture, I am saying “Diabetes, schmiametes.”
After cupcakes, we went to “dinner” at this bar called ‘disiac. We had chips and salsa and hummus and tahini. Okay, let me clarify. I had chips and salsa. The girls had hummus and tahini. I’m not really a tryer when it comes to food. When the waiter came to take our drink orders, Kim ordered a Rose Kennedy.
Now, for those of you saying, “Seriously? They named a drink after Rose Kennedy?” let me explain. Kim’s drink of choice is Kettle One Vodka, club soda and the tiniest splash of cranberry juice for color. There is no name for this drink, so one night when she was out with Michaela and Michaela’s husband, Michael, she ordered this and Michael said, “You should call it the ‘Rose Kennedy.” So, now when she is out, she says to the waiter or bartender, “I’d like the Rose Kennedy,” as if he should know what it is. Then, when they ask, she tells them, and continues to order it by name for the rest of the night. She does this at every restaurant and every bar that she goes to. She is hoping that it will catch on and that eventually, she’ll walk into a bar and it will be on the drink menu. Her ultimate goal, however, is that when Sex and the City II comes out, Carrie will be drinking a Rose Kennedy. Then, she will know she has made it.
During dinner, Kim was talking about the fact that she was playing house with her boyfriend for the next 10 days as he is in town and staying with her. So, she was hoping that we could share some dinner recipes with her so they didn’t have to order out every night. So, we spent the next thirty minutes discussing meals and crock pots. As I eased out of the conversation, I was suddenly struck by the surreal nature of sitting with these women, talking about recipes. These are the girls with whom I experiemented with makeup, sang into our hairbrushes at the top of our lungs, fell in love with Jon Bon Jovi…and here we were discussing slow cooker recipes. When did this happen?
As dinner concluded, Kim and Michaela got secret smiles and said “We have a surprise for you two.” Erin and I were intrigued. We caught a cab, Kim gave directions and off we went. They took us to Koreatown, to a Karaoke bar. There was a regular karaoke bar downstairs, but upstairs were private karaoke rooms. The four of us had a room that was soundproof, with a big screen television and a fat book of songs. We danced and sang and lost our minds for two hours. I cannot remember the last time I had so much fun and just let loose. I had no voice by the end of the night, but it was SO well worth it.
This is me, getting my Karaoke game face on:
I can’t even describe the whole experience, but here are some pictures that may help tell the story. However, before the pictures, you may remember that in my description of the drive to North Carolina, I explained that I had held some misconceptions regarding the lyrics of certain songs. Let me say that there is nothing like karaoke to help clear up those misconceptions. Manic Monday by the Bangles is a completely different song than I thought it was.
Anyway, from Aretha Franklin to 50 Cent, here are some of the highlights of our evening.
I think I may have monopolized the microphone. This is not a surprise.
I have a few people that are the absolute loves of my life. Real Man and the monkeys are obvious, however, there are three other people who have been continual loves of my life.
Kim, Erin, Michaela and I have been friends for 30 years. I am the only child of two only children and therefore, my friends became my family. These three women have been the most consistent presence in my life since I was 8 years old.
When I was 8, my Dad left the church he had been preaching at to a new church in a different town. We moved in January, days after my 8th birthday. So, not only was I the new kid, but I was the new kid, mid-year.
On the first day I went to my second grade class in my new school, I turned around to the girl sitting behind me and said, in my toughest, badass 8-year old voice, “Where’s the scissors?” Erin pointed to the scissors and quickly became my best friend.
This is Erin:
She is absolutely beautiful, inside and out. She’s brilliant and funny and I’m sad that she lives a few hours away. She is currently staying at home with her two sweet little girls and working at Bloomingdale’s on the weekends. Prior to raising her family, she was a bigwig accountant for a variety of different companies, including Ernst and Young. She’s awesome.
Not in my second grade class, but in my Brownie troop, was another girl. Man, could this girl network. Even in second grade, she could work the crowd, networking her way around the elementary school. Everyone knew who she was and I, too, soon fell under her spell. As we got older, Kim also became a best friend.
This is Kim and Erin and I:
No surprise, my networking friend is now the National Account Director for Yahoo! and lives in the city. Kim is strong, independent and just fabulous. She always makes me laugh, and I’m not the only one. A few years ago, she won 10 stand-up comedy lessons at a Yahoo! benefit auction. The class ended with the students doing stand-up at a comedy club in the city. If you’ll pardon my language for a moment, Kim’s routine kicked ass. She seriously needs to do more of this.
Michaela and I met when we were little, but didn’t become best friends until middle school. She sat behind me in Algebra and instead of taking notes, we’d make up stories and draw pictures and pass notes. We were inseparable for quite some time.
This is Michaela and Erin:
Times are never dull with Michaela. She had a wandering spirit as a kid and she still has it today. She’s the most creative person I’ve ever known. She’s an artist, photographer, and creative genius. As an adult, she’s started her own company, Briefcase to Backpack, as well as a website that sells her art, Wanderlust Productions.
These three women and I have been through everything together. Pigtails and Brownie troops to youth group and church choir. First cars, first accidents. First boyfriends, first broken hearts. We’ve hugged each other, we’ve slapped each other. But always, we come back to each other. We’ve traveled together with our handbell choir, visiting Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Tennessee, Texas, Canada, Bermuda and a variety of other places together. In our senior yearbook, students had the option to buy a senior page that they could fill with pictures and memories. The four of us had to buy two pages and still had to leave hundreds of memories out. We’ve been through marriages, parental divorces, childbirth, and every other experience you can imagine together.
Real Man often comments how rare it is to have one friend who you’ve known for 30 years and still remained this close with. Make it 3 friends and you realize that your luck is overflowing. These women are more than family to me, because I’m not stuck with them. You can never escape your family. They are a part of you through blood. These women are my family by choice, and to me, that is ever so much more special.
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