One of these things is not like the other

Who the hell wants all that whipped cream?

So I worked my ass off today, trying to set up my new flea market booth. I spent about an hour putting together one of those gray metal shelves. If you've never done that before - don't.

Then I had another big metal shelf that I was bringing from the other location. The owner had been letting me use it for free and she said I could keep using it if I moved it myself. Seemed like a great deal. Except the freaking thing fell apart when I moved it. It's basically a metal framework that has wood shelves that lay on the frame. The 4 legs break in half, so that's 8 parts. Then there's a front and back and 2 sides for each shelf, so that's 16 parts.

It fell apart so easily that you'd think it would be easy to put back together. Not so fast. My Neighbor Frenemy helped me move everything from the old location on Monday, including this shelf. She and I spent more than 30 minutes trying to put it together then and didn't get very far.

I thought it would be easier if I had some tools, so I went back today with WD40 and a rubber mallet, pliers and screwdrivers. I worked for an hour and a half. I got the front and back sections put together and 2 of the side pieces.

I wanted to cry. NF told me on Monday I should just go out and buy something new. That would be a minimum of $25 and I just can't afford it right now. The booth rent is going to be $15 a month more than I used to pay. Since it's a bigger booth, I bought a bunch of merchandise for it. So I've got quite a bit invested in this enterprise already and I don't know if the flea market's going to make it or not.

They were planning to open on April 15, then they found out the city is doing road construction for the next month. The only way to get to this place right now is through an alley. The road's supposed to be open in 2-3 weeks, but does any construction project ever get done when it's supposed to?

Anyway, I was exhausted after working on those shelves and carrying in boxes of crap. I wanted to go buy a half gallon of ice cream and eat it all. I decided to just get a chocolate shake instead. Fewer calories, less sugar.

I love McDonald's shakes. At least I used to. Now they have frappes. Half the shake for twice the price, topped off by about a cup of whipped cream.

Who the fuck eats that much whipped cream? I have a bigger sweet tooth than anyone I know and it was way too much for me. When they gave it to me, I told them I just wanted a plain ice cream shake. Nope, can't do it.

It's been at least a year since I've had a shake - probably more like 2 years. Now I'm pouting.

One more whine for today - while I was trying to put the shelves together, I stabbed myself with the screwdriver. It went into my thumb and left a half-inch cut. Right in the area where I'm supposed to get my steroid shot - tomorrow.

There's a very good chance he'll say he can't do it now. Whine.

Highlight of my month

I got a new table and chairs from Goodwill. It's solid oak and has 4 leaves and it only cost $35! The chairs need minor repairs and I'm probably going to paint them. The table had been refinished and just has a few nicks and scratches.

As you can see, Lizzie and Megan approve.

What I would have taken

Last night, I had the opportunity to apply the blogger challenge from a couple posts down. The circumstances were different. Instead of going back in time, I was preparing for a disaster and had to decide what to take with me.

On Friday, they started predicting that we were going to get massive thunderstorms and stronger than normal tornadoes. The dire predictions went on all day Saturday and the clouds rolling in looked ominous enough that I curtailed some of my planned outings for the day. I was going to start moving into the new flea market but I'm always up for an excuse to procrastinate.

All we ended up getting was a mild thunderstorm. Other areas to the south, west and east of us got worse. But here's what I placed at the door in case the sirens went off. They're listed in the order of importance, i.e. what to grab first:

1) My purse, which contained my wallet, extra cash, my cell phone, a week's supply of meds, my flash drive, a small flashlight, and my keys.
2) The cat carrier - the plan was to capture Megan and stuff her in there (because she'd be harder to catch if she realized something was wrong), then get Lizzie (she's so curious she probably would be right there to see what was going on).

If I wasn't able to stuff Lizzie in the carrier too, those 2 things were all I could have taken. Otherwise, I also would have taken:

3) One of my quilts, both as a keepsake and to protect us from flying debris.
4) A tote bag containing extra batteries, candles, matches, chargers for phone and camera, and a bottle of water

That afternoon, I had backed up my most important files on the flash drive, which I needed to do anyway. It only has 2 gigs. I copied all of my creative writing, including the novel I finished and 2 others I've started, dozens of short stories and poems, my bipolar memoir and the cancer memoir I've been working on this week, plus my business ledger and a few other important documents.

Then I copied a bunch of pictures. My highest priority - all the pictures of Percy and Jasmine, plus my favorite shots of Megan and Lizzie. I also copied some pictures of my ceramic cat collection. I realized I need to take pictures of the rest of the collection. Now as I think about it, I need to get pictures of all my quilts too.

When it came down to it, those are all the possessions I value and/or need the most. Notice there weren't any pictures of people on my list. Hmm.

That's one of the pictures I saved - Lizzie & Megan in a basket I bought for $1.25. Sadly, we don't get to keep it because they started trying to rip it apart. It's headed for the flea market.

It's that kind of world

Spending money on entertainment isn't really evil, but it would be a better world if the corporations who absorb most of that profit and the executives and stars who get paid millions contributed more of it to helping others. They should all be paying more taxes but that wouldn't be necessary if they took more social responsibility on their own.

What was it Bush the first said - a thousand points of light or some such bullshit - the idea that if you don't tax them and the government doesn't help poor people, the millionaires and billionaires would take care of them. We see how well that works.

(The poster is from Pinterest.)

Blogger challenge - what would you take?

Now, in an effort to get back to posting on a more regular basis, I'm going to try to do some of the challenges I found on another blog. The first one:

Challenge #1--If you were forced to go back in time to the olden days, but were allowed to take 10 modern conveniences with you, what would you take?

1. A computer. I wouldn't want to live without it. Since this is just a fantasy, it'll be a fancy new laptop instead of my aging PC.

2. A refrigerator.

3. I guess I'd have to take electricity to run the previous two.

4. A printer and a big supply of ink cartridges and paper. I don't know if I could go back to writing by hand.

5. A flush toilet. Outhouses always scared me. (When I was a kid, I heard a story about a guy who went around the country and hid inside the pit in outhouses at parks and rest stops so he could look up and watch women peeing. I also heard a story about some guy - or was it a woman? - who killed somebody and chopped up the body and dumped it in an outhouse. Some woman else came along and peed then looked down to see a severed head staring up at her. I think it was the mother who killed the father or vice a versa and the daughter who found the head. The point is, I'd rather pee all over myself than use an outhouse.)

6. I guess I'll have to take the plumbing to operate the flushable toilet.

7. Then I can have running water.

8. A hot water heater.

9. A lamp and plenty of light bulbs. Incandescent ones not that fluorescent crap. Although I don't really mind kerosene lantern and candles so maybe just a flashlight.

10. Matches. Lots of them. I always criticize the idiots who get on Survivor but don't bother to learn how to start a fire before they get to the island. But I don't know how to start one either.

Notice I didn't mention my cell phone. It was the first thing I thought of but nobody calls me anyway and who would I call since no one else would have one?

My neglected children

I feel like my blog has become my neglected child. I used to write something here almost every day and most of my posts were funny or insightful or at least somewhat interesting. Now all I do is bitch and whine and complain. Part of it is depression. My psychiatrist has been trying to adjust my meds to make that better, but when the higher dose of Wellbutrin made me manic, I had to go backwards. I'm on a lower dose of Wellbutrin than I was before he decided I needed more. The depression is worse.

The last couple of days I've been working on my cancer memoir. I started it almost 2 years ago and intended to make it a book, but I abandoned it during treatment because I felt sad and alone and writing about it only made it worse. About a month ago, I decided to take what I'd already written and try to turn it into a personal essay. Now I'm writing all the details of everything I can remember. I just have to get through it then decide what to do with it. I read part of it to writer's group last night and they really liked it.

Speaking of neglected children, Thursday morning I had quite a rude awakening. I woke up early and was trying to decide whether to get up and go to the bathroom or just try to go back to sleep. I rolled onto my back and suddenly realized the bed was wet.

I thought I had peed it again (that happened several times the first year after my cancer staging surgery), but I always woke up before I finished and it felt warm and wonderful. This time, it was cold. It had been raining so I thought maybe the roof had leaked. But no - it was cat pee.

Lizzie and Megan both peed on my bed the first day I brought each of them home. They didn't know where they were supposed to go. When I caught them in the act, I put them in their litter boxes and from then on, there were no more accidents.

If one of them had peed on my bed Wednesday night, something must be wrong. Possibly a bladder infection. Then I remembered - writers group was at my place Wednesday so I moved the litter box to my bedroom. I moved it back to its regular location right after the meeting but ...

I had a hunch and sure enough, I had returned the litter box to its rightful corner but backwards. The hood opening was up against the wall so the cats couldn't get into it. Judging by how wet my bed was, my poor girls held it in for a long time before one of them peed on me.

I had it coming.

Thought for the day

What men need to realize - and start saying out loud - is that no insurance coverage for contraception impacts them as well. Their family budgets will have to accommodate the cost of contraception out of pocket, or they'll be having children they don't want and/or can't afford, or they won't be getting laid.

Although most of the burden falls on women, this is a men's issue too. Men need to recognize that.

I'm not done with her yet

You're trying to get promoted to a supervisory position which is about to open up at your workplace. Your boss asks you to fill in for one night performing one of the tasks required for the new position. You have two choices:

1. You say yes and demonstrate to your boss that a) You know how to do the job, and b) You're friendly and cooperative and willing to go the extra mile to help out, or,

2. You say, "I don't get paid enough to do that."

Guess which answer will get you the promotion. Neighbor Friend can't seem to figure that out. (Yes, I'm still ranting about her.)

Now let's say another supervisory position opens up a few weeks later. Do you:

1. Smile and continue performing your current job while volunteering to take on some of the supervisor's duties temporarily, or

2. Bitch and whine and complain to everyone that you didn't get the promotion last time and they damn well better give it to you this time, then call in sick because you think they might be considering someone else.

Assistant manager positions at NF's current job have opened up twice in the last month and another one's about to come open. She's doing everything she possibly can to sabotage her chances of getting promoted. There's nothing I can say that would get her to see that.

But I did get a little dig in when we were on our way home from Walmart. NF was complaining that the cashier had been slow and unfriendly and NF asked her if she liked her job. The cashier said she hated it, that she didn't mind the coworkers so much but she hated the customers. I told NF, "When I was a store manager, I would have fired her ass if I heard her talking to customers that way."

NF got very quiet. Her silence reminded me that she badmouths her bosses, the store owner and other customers all the time when she's waiting on her regular customers. She comes home and brags about it all the time.

So yeah, NF, if I was your boss you'd probably get fired. Give you a promotion? Oh, hell no.

With friends like these

I always had a policy of not getting to friendly with my neighbors. Say "Hi" when we pass in the hall, maybe talk about the weather, then move on. It was a good policy.

My neighbor across the hall has become a gigantic pain in the ass. We started talking a few months ago and she gradually insinuated her way into my life. In the beginning, we'd stand by our doors and talk. One night, she asked if she could come in and sit down. Then she started coming over every night around 10:30. At first, she'd only stay for 20 minutes or so. Now it's 1-2 hours every single night.

She won't take a hint. I'll tell her I need to get to bed or that I have some work to do. She spends the next half hour or more saying she should leave but then veers off into talking about something else.

Last Monday, she wanted to go to a store that's 10 miles away. I had no desire to go there but she said she'd give me money for gas. We get there, she buys what she wants, we come home. A few hours later, she tells me the blinds she bought don't fit her windows so she needs to return them. She spends the rest of the week hinting and nagging until I finally agree to drive her back on Friday. Again, she says she'll give me money for gas.

So all together, I drive her 40 miles and give up 2 afternoons, and she gives me $4.00 for gas.

Me being the dumb ass I am, last night I told her I needed to pick up my prescriptions today. This morning, she slips a note under my door and asks if she can come to the pharmacy with me. Me being the dumb ass, I tell her I'm going to Walmart and the grocery store too. She's thrilled.

But it's not enough that I'm letting her come with me. We have to go when it's most convenient for her. I had planned on going this evening but she didn't want to miss "Dancing with the Stars" so we went at 4:00, right when I was in the middle of doing something else and I missed the show that I wanted to see.

Why the fuck didn't I say, "I'm going at 7:00. You can come with me or not."

Why didn't I say, "No, you can't come with me!"

Again, she says she'll give me gas money. Instead, she bought me a hamburger and fries - $2.00.

But I'm thinking, well, at least we spent enough time together so she won't come over tonight. I forgot I had already promised she could use my computer to apply for a job at Walmart. She wanted to come over at 10:30. I said, "No, I want to go to bed early. Come at 9."

She shows up on the dot. This is where I discover that she's a fucking 2 year old living in a 50 year old body. She doesn't really know how to use a computer, doesn't know how to use the internet, but she wants to do it by herself. Except she doesn't do it by herself - she asks me questions about every 30 seconds.

Most of the questions were common sense stuff that she should have been able to figure out for herself if she just read the instructions on the website. But I have to try to read over her shoulder and then have her show me what she did to get to where she was. About 10 different times, I said, "Why don't you let me sit down and do the typing and you can give me the info?"

No, she wants to do it herself. So I have to explain everything step by step, "Click this button, no not that one, this one, oh no don't click that!" And boom, she's erased all the data she just entered.

I finally told her not to ask me any more questions unless she was willing to let me sit down and do the typing. So she pouted, kept pecking away for a few minutes, then asked me another question. I went out to the kitchen and started slamming dishes around. This time, she took a hint. "Oh, I'm sowree, I know you wanted to go to bed early."

It should have taken her maybe 10 minutes to fill out that job application. She was working on it for an hour and a half! And - she didn't finish!

She wanted to come back tomorrow night to finish. I said no - my writers group is meeting here on Wednesday. I have to clean and I need to write something for group. So now she's planning to do it Thursday or Friday.

I should tell her no unless she'll agree to let me do the typing for her. I hope I'll have the balls to stick to that.

But here I am sitting with the TV and most the lights off so she'll think I went to bed. Because she has told me before that she LISTENS OUTSIDE MY DOOR to find out if I'm up. It's bad enough that I can't come or go without her knowing - now I can't even watch TV or talk on the phone without her eavesdropping.

She's a fucking stalker.

Controlling women's bodies

Spanx have been around for awhile but it seems like they're getting more popular all the time. And really, they're nothing but a girdle. When I was a kid in the 1960s, my mom always wore a girdle when she had to dress up for anything. This was before pantyhose, so her girdle had snaps on the legs to attach her nylon stockings. Getting dressed was quite an ordeal for her and she never enjoyed it.

By the time I was old enough for nylons, panty hose had been invented - we saw them as such a convenience. I think I wore a girdle once but they were pretty much out of style.

That was the 1970s, at the height of women's lib. Hardly anyone - at least young women - ever wore girdles. I was never brave enough to go without a bra but a lot of women did.

Today I started wondering if it's just a coincidence that girdles seem to be making a big comeback at the same time religious nutjobs are trying to outlaw contraception and abortions and women's health care in general. Aren't girdles just another way to control women's bodies?

The only thing scarier than what right-wing men are trying to do to women is what we do to ourselves.

Democracy? Oh, pshaw

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Maybe it was laundry day?

Somebody please shoot me if I ever try to go out looking like this.

(from failblog)