Monthly Archives: November 2011

Pardon me…

…while I take my blogging time to clean out the medicine drawer in the kitchen, because I can stand it no longer. Who could find anything in here?

It’s been said that you can discover a lot about people by looking in their medicine cabinet. What I wouldn’t give for a medicine cabinet. The way my house is laid out, if you want to get to a bathroom, you have to either go up or down stairs. Nothing on the main floor, which tips the inconvenience scale too far for my taste. So instead, we have the medicine drawer in the kitchen. As you can see, things got so crowded that I ended up labeling the tops of the lids, which beat the heck out of picking up each bottle to see if it was the one I needed. Ridiculous.

If I had some available wall space somewhere, I’d have the Thriller put in a small cabinet. But no. My particular middle-class house was built in a time (1916) when, apparently, function won out over beauty and stretch-out space.

Hey Santa, how about a kitchen remodel? Cripes. OK, complaining over with. For now…



My new made-up word.

ma·laise [ma-leyz] noun 

  1. a condition of general bodily weakness or discomfort, often marking the onset of sickness.
  2. a vague or unfocused feeling of mental uneasiness, lethargy,or discomfort.

la·zy [ley-zee]  adjective

  1. averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.

Malaise + lazy. Malaizy.

So what do you do on days like this? I’d like to hightail it back upstairs for some feet-up time…

Little icebergs

Those were my feet. All night long. I fought it from 11 until 3 a.m., when the twin blocks of glacier at the ends of my ankles started emanating pain all the way up to my knees. WHAT???

We keep our second floor pretty chilly. It contains my master bathroom and three bedrooms (which we don’t use except when grandchildren or friends/family visit — our bedroom is up another floor). When the Js come to sleep over, I always bunk in the guest room, so I can be close by in case a boy wakes up disoriented or has a nightmare, or just needs Grammie for something. They each have a small space heater in their room, but I have tripped circuit breakers with setting up a third one in the guest room in the past, so I just leave all the bedroom doors open and go without. I thought I’d be fine for the night when I put on thick socks, a t-shirt, a heavy sweatshirt and sweats and climbed into bed after the boys were asleep.


It took me forever to fall asleep for rubbing my feet together (I know they’re going to warm up soon…), then I must have awakened every 10-15 minutes, after the poor little peds had frozen solid again. Have your feet ever been so cold that it shoots pain right up your leg? Cripes. So, at 3:00, I got up and came downstairs to the parlor, took off my moccasins, and put my sockfeet directly on the space heater. And that’s where I am at this very moment, an hour and 15 minutes later.


I found some CosySoles – the perfect solution. I’d rather put a pair of slippers in the microwave than stick heat pads in my socks, anyway. I went to order them, pulled down the sizing chart, and…yeah. Heh haha hoho hahahaNEVERMIND. (They start at size 6.)

Is it time for me to stop complaining yet? I think so. Frozen feetses aside, we all had a blast last night, and the Thriller and I love having the boys over as often as we can. I’ll try and grab a catnap on the way to Detroit this morning, and I’ll be good to go.

Happy Saturnday! I hope you’re doing something fun this weekend. I’m going to stand up on my two little icebergs and hit the couch for awhile, till my two bundles of energy wake up. Grilled cheezers for breakfast today. :-)



Random Neuron Firings

  1. It is Veterans Day. If you see one, thank one!
  2. Life is too short. Period. It’s too short for wasting time, too short for not taking care of yourself and your family, too short to not have fun, too short to hold grudges, too short to seek anything but the good in what days remain to you.
  3. I was exhausted at 9:30 last night, so I went to bed. Slept all the way until 4. I’m rarin’ to go this morning.
  4. Tonight is my first sleepover with the Js since early October. Yay!
  5. I am officially uncommitted to rehearsals on weeknights until early February. Then it’s virtually nonstop until the end of May.
  6. I hold some unpopular opinions.
  7. What’s wrong with having key lime pie for breakfast?
  8. What are you doing this weekend?

Scary TV

You know, horror stories on television ain’t what they used to be. You could pretty much depend on scary TV shows to be a bit watery; slightly sterilized and toned down.

Not this one, Jim.

From the creepy theme music to the truly scary, jump-out-and-blast-ya scenes (as well as more flesh and jiggle content than you’ve ever seen on basic network TV), American Horror Story (Wednesdays at 10 p.m. Eastern on FX) is just that: a horror story. And it’s frightening.

When the theme music comes on, I have to cover my ears and go “la, la la la laaaaaaa.” Why do I watch these things? What is it about our nature that makes us dare to be horrified? I remember doing the same hands-over-the-ears thing when the theme music to the old Dark Shadows played. When I watch them on Netflix nowadays, I fast-forward through the opening theme. Yet, I can’t stop watching.

Last night I watched American Horror with the Thriller, and dangit if I wasn’t petrified to go upstairs by myself. Ridiculous! I’ve always known that my empathy response was on overdrive; I put myself in countless situations right along with the actors. Internalizing this stuff ain’t healthy, lemmetellya. But I still watch. Why? I stop just short of making the Thriller sit by the bedside until I fall asleep. What a nutjob. (Me, not him.)

Heh. Boo!