please, stop bouncing

I’m a dork.
In fact, I’m a dork about many things.
Should probably explain.  I use to word “dork” to describe neurotic behavior regarding things, people, places.  Behavior that makes you pull your car to the side of the road in the middle of traffic.  Behavior that makes you run across a room to drop your two cents into a conversation because you think you heard someone mention one of your trigger words.  Behavior that causes you to scour the internets in search of information regarding your vice so you are more prepared in case you need to be.
I’m pretty dorky about music.  While I’m not as dorky as I  used to be, I still can name that tune in three notes.  And I know a fair amount of trivia about songs/bands and their useage.
This post is not about music though.
This post is about…. ANTIQUES!!!!
(and here I sit grinning like a Cheshire cat)
I heart antiques.
Big puffy heart.
I have no shame in attending garage and/or estate sales.  In fact, garage sales are one of my favorite parts of spring.
It’s hard in the neighborhood I live in to find good antiques as it’s a newer area (meaning lots of kid/baby items)
However, I do adore the Orchard Park Antique Mall and end up there once, sometimes twice a month.
Occasionally someone will sell the depression pattern I collect and I’m quite trained at spotting impostors/replicas.  My greatest find (so far) was a vaseline glass glass for fifty-five cents!!!  (there are links on the right if you want to see what vaseline glass is).
I’ve been trying to figure out what pattern I have so I can try to get the set.
I’m totally getting off track here.
Anyway, I’ve always wanted to go to see Antique Roadshow.  Because I’m a dork.
And tomorrow, I get to go to one.  Granted, it’s not THE Antique Roadshow, but still, it’s people who are familiar with this regions history.
So now I’m deciding which two items to bring tomorrow.  I’m leaning towards my pre-Thruway pull down map of Buffalo.  I don’t know what the other item should be yet….
Less to say, I’m wicked excited and hope I can sleep tonight.  I’ll let you know what I’m bringing when I decide and I’ll post some pictures…. Maybe we’ll make it into a game.

My birthday is next month.
If anyone is wondering what to get me, may I suggest the Acme Bat-Man’s Outfit. L-O-V-E the toes.

The full Acme Catalog is available from Dump Trumpet.

Okay reader(s), what is on your Acme Wishlist?

(Note to Fastbackss: ‘member when we were in Philly and they had Acme grocery stores??! I still have my Acme Grape Soda.  Oh, and the can of Simpson’s Cherry Bomb soda you brought back from England.)

Uncharacteristic Behavior (for me anyways):
In a shocking twist of fate, I actually pulled a WWSD and opted to start finishing the kitchen BEFORE starting and abandoning the bathroom.
I KNOW!
So I pulled off the last of The Ugly Wallpaper from around the kitchen window, wiped the beer off the ceiling and primed.
I KNOW!
(BTW: Stephanie recommends putting away clean dishes BEFORE removing wallpaper.  Just saying.)
While the primer was drying, I removed straggling wallpaper from the bathroom and wiped down the walls and ceiling.  ew. You know, for a room that you get clean in, bathrooms are quite dirty.
Then I matched four of the approximately 100 paint chips to the shower curtain and started narrowing down what colors to go with.  I haven’t decided if I’m going with two or three colors (it’s a small bathroom and three may be too overwhelming) and if I’m going to paint the cabinet/doors.
Then I got lightheaded and decided to shower and go to bed; which was a very good idea.

Wednesday Night Crock-Pot Recipe: Taco Soup
1 pound of ground protein of your choice (you know, beef/turkey/Boca)
2 cans Pinto Beans (undrained)
1 can corn (undrained)
1 package each of dry Ranch dressing and Taco Seasoning
1/4 cup Italian Dressing (I know it’s weird)
2 cans of tomatoes of your choice (I prefer Del Monte’s tiny diced with Jalapenos)

Dump everything into a working slow cooker and set at low.  I freeze my beef so I go for 8 hours on low.  I’m guessing it would take less time with thawed flesh.
Top with shredded cheese and sour cream, ifn you want.  I ate mine with tortilla chips, but I suppose you can use a spoon.

Chances are that the best convesations I have on a daily basis are between The Beans and me.
(The Beans=Bailey=The Dog, FYI)

This morning, I was “meh”-ey and she can tell.  She brought me my favorite toy (and yes, she does know some of her toys and provided she has not chosen the toy to play with, she will get you a specific toy if you ask her) and sat next to me while I dried my hair.

When it was time for her breakfast, she stands/sits next to her bowl and waits for me to let her eat.  People who watch her do this trick are amazed, as more often then not, Bailey marches to her own drummer.
A lot of people think it’s weird that I talk to my pets (and plants) and they always joke, “If they start answering you, it’s a problem…” but they don’t understand The Beans’ and my language.
I like to make her sit for breakfast and wag her tail to talk to me.  Sometimes we talk about logical things but it’s mostly nonsense (”Well B, I do not know where I am going to find a ball of twine that large, but I’ll try.  Will you take two smaller balls that would equal a large one? ” *wag* “OKay, but no promises.”  *head tilt, slight wag*)

So this morning, we’re talking while I prep The Crock-Pot Dinner of the Week.

“You’re so pretty!”
*wag*
“You are, you’re so very very pretty!”
*wagwagwagwag**trot over and give a quick kiss before the kitties get in her dish**trot back to dish*
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
*wagwag*
“I wish I was as pretty as Bailey.”
*wag*
“Am I as pretty as you are?”
*little tailtip waggle*
“Am I prettier then you?”
*WAGWAGWAGWAGWAGWAGWAGWAG*
“You always know what to say, don’t you.”
*smile**wagwag*   (yes, B does really smile.)
“Go ahead, have your breakfast.”
*nomnom nom nomnomnom nomnom nom*
“Love you.  You’re such a good girl!”
*wag*

Reason #8 that I absolutly love Steve:
He knows how to defuse me.

I know that if I am ever having a bad/sad/lonely/upsetting situation, I can call him and he will tell me something good.  Not necessarily relevant, but something that will take my mind off the temporary emotional upheaval.

(I seem to have thought that my Zoloft was in a bag it wasn’t in and it’s been two days since I dosed and I can totally tell.  I am not okay with this.)

Whenever I get to feeling like this, I often try a WWSD?  What Would Steve Do?
Sometimes I think of the conversation that we had about Def Lepard, in which he said, “Dear Def Lepard Drummer, why do you rock so hard?”.  Sometimes I think of the wholly inappropriate things that he says at inappropriate times or how his simple utterance of a scared, “Um, you look good today?” can make me smile, disapaitng the Doom and Gloom.

Today I am trying not to call him because I want to handle this on my own.  Now now, it’s nothing horrible- no one is dead, no one is bleeding from their eyes, it’s nothing that anyone who reads this has done to me- it’s just that I feel like I need to stop relying on him to get me out of a funk.

Sorry that this has been a typically un-Stephanie post.  I’ll try to say something funny later.

Yesterday I’m taking care of my relatively short grocery shopping list.
I come down the aisle towards the milk coolers and there are people standing in front of both doors to the skim milk.  And they’re not talking about skim milk.  GET OUT OF MY WAY.

Then, around the corner comes a mom with four (yes, 4) kids aged infant to 7/8-ish.  I don’t estimate kids ages well.  The older one had a cart, so he could have been 5 or 15.  Regardless, so there is this mom with one of those huge shopping carts that has the car on the front (akin to the picture below, in case you live under a rock) with a kid who keeps entering/exiting the car,

a baby in the cart section (I think those are in aisle 15A, BTW), a toddler with a balloon and her lackey son with a cart of various diapers.
I’m pretty sure she saw me, which just raised my anger when she hit me in the ankle with the car/t and didn’t apologize.  She was trying to sneak her baseball team in the out end of the next aisle.  Oh,  unless I’m the only one who see the grocery aisles governed by the same rules as the road and water (red right return).
So naturally, she tries to cut me off.   And after hitting me in the ankle, I cut her off.  No way lady… don’t think so.
Halfway down the aisle, she parks the minivan about an arms length away from the shelves while the balloon toting kid dances (in a very not cute way) in front of the car, but just a little towards the other side so no one can get by.  It’s been a while.  Mom is deciding between stewed and diced tomatoes.  “Morgan (or whatever suburban name it had), get out of the way, you’re blocking people.”
And there is a collective sigh of relief from the people who want to get to the other end of the aisle.
“Chance,” she turns behind her to the son with the cart while pushing her cart forward (yeah, see the problem here?) “Can you push the cart?  Just make sure that you don’t hit anyone in the ankles.”
And I hurled a can of Chunky at her.
No, I kid.
I glared at her.
And laughed when I heard her trying to discipline her troops three aisles away.  “Morgan, Morgan.  Morgan.  MORGAN!  Get in, no, get over here, Morgan.  Morgan, get in the cart.  In the cart.  Morgan.  Now.  No.  No.  NO.  GET IN THE CART.  Now.  Morgan.  No, put that down.  NOW.”  etc.

The final mark in my week-long triumphant adventure came this morning.
I sat for the Notary Public exam.
Within a week or so, I should know whether I’m a success or a failure then I get to apply for my license.
Good times.

Best part (of the traffic, the test, the parking, the people…) was getting a GOOD gyro.  Dear sweet baby Jebus, how I miss downtown food.

Oh drat, I lied about the final mark… I’m partaking in the final mark now.  Trying a sugar-free yogurt.
Why are you laughing?
Lemme ’splain:
Exhibit a) Sugar has a lot of calories (for someone who loves sweets and has carbs go straight to her hips)
Exhibit b) Splenda and Sweet-n-Low make me feel spacey
Exhibit c) If someone can point me in the direction of a stevia-flavored yogurt, that’d be great.
Exhibit d) Nutra-Sweet, Equal, and the like give me WICKED headaches.

I figured with everything else I’ve overcome, the least I could do is try.
Besides, the fat-free Yoplaits have totally better flavors then the reduced-fat versions.
I raise my Boston Creme Pie yogurt cup to you Tylenol,  hope we don’t have to meet later.

This morning I was on a roll.  I was out of the house early (early enough to stop at Tim Hortons in fact) and was ready to tackle the day.
Sadly, my Trailblazer was not.  Luckily, my long suppressed mechanical inclination kicked in and I checked my idiot lights.  Ah, the battery light.
Confused about why my battery would be weak (as my truck is like, 6 months old) I placed a call to Steve.  “Um, yeah, so do you know where the charger is and how do I use it because my battery is dead.”  Stupid voicemail.
I find the charger (having wedged myself in between the truck and the storage credenza), read the directions and start charging the battery.
Meanwhile, I enjoy a breakfast of Healthy Heart Smart Start and get a load of laundry in.  Making the best of a bad situation I guess…
Battery charged, I make it into work without incident.  I email Steve to let him know to ignore my message, crisis averted.
He calls.  “So, what happened?  I didn’t get your message?”
“(rehashing of events).  I knew what to check, what to do AND I didn’t cry!”
“I’m so proud of you!”
“Wait.  So you’re more proud of me knowing how to jump a vehicle then you are of my donating blood?”
Matter-of-factly “Well, yeah!”
“You make no sense to me.”

Oh, Furminator, how do I love thee?

Ends up that the hairball with legs that made random appearances is actually Buffy.  I swear that I am not kidding when I say that she looks five pounds lighter.  And totally less like a stray cat who found her way into my living room.  And she almost looks happy.  Keyword being almost.
How much fur did I get off her initially?  Okay, cup your hands together like you were holding a grapefruit.  Now instead of a grapefruit, imagine compressed fur.
Ew, right?
Yesterday while I was looking for shower curtains, Buffy came upstairs and I got another couple good handfuls of fur off  her rump.
And here we were blaming Bailey for the fur problems…

As for Bailey, we gave her a brushing and without a lot of time/effort, we had two dustpans full of fur BEFORE sweeping (yield: 2 more pans).

Supposedly, this is product reduces shedding by 90%.  Granted, it was $35 (and came with free water-free shampoo.  Buffy now smells like an air freshener.) but I figure to keep the fur-dust-bunnies out of the hallway, it’s a small price to pay…

I heart The Furminator.

I do no understand the previous owner(s) love of wallpaper border.
Every room in the house had border when we moved in.  Now we are one less.
I figured if I tackled the bathroom in steps, perhaps I wouldn’t feel so time-crunched.  Oh, or pained.
Tonight I took off the border (around the entire ceiling and then some around the sink for god knows why).  I cannot praise the combination of vinegar and water (1:3, ish)for removing wallpaper.  And I know a lot about removing wallpaper; rehashing the kitchen for those of you who missed it.
Next thing I need to do is procure this shower curtain from my local BB&B.  And that’s all I need right now.  I do not need this turning into another cupcake carrier fiasco.
I plan on getting some celery green, aqua (but not Grandma Aqua) and maybe brown/tan paint for the walls and ceiling… I do have to prime first.

Ah, nothing like projects!