PANDEMONIUM

Last week I went to IKEA to return something AND to stock up on bags of their Swedish Meatballs and Sauce Mix (because YUMMY!) and I figured while I was there, I really should look at their cookware because I was in serious need of a new frying pan and besides, there's always tons of swell stuff at IKEA along with Real Housewives of the OC all pushing strollers filled with screaming toddlers because, in case you didn't know, IKEA is the hot ticket to go for Mommy & Me outings because not only is there a little Drop-the-Rugrats-Off-Here-While-You-Shop daycare/play area, the cafe serves good food and dirt cheap prices and if I lived closer to an IKEA, I'd eat every meal there and wow this is one helluva long run-on sentence.

Deep breath.

So anyway, I'm browsing in the cookware section and there's all kinds of pots and pans and I finally choose a big-ass heavy duty frying pan, pay for it and haul it home.

You guys. It's the most awesome pan in the world.

Everything that I've cooked on it has come out perfect.

It's beautiful.

We're in love, my pan and I.

Or is it "my pan and me?"  Grammar police?  What say you?

Anyway.

I'm thinking of giving my pan a name because we have a Relationship going on now so what's a good name for it?

Oh.  Duh.  Peter.  Get it?  Peter PAN??


Work with me, people!

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Peter:

Isn't he GORGEOUS??

Yes, he weighs a ton and has to be washed by hand instead of just tossing him the dishwasher but I DON'T CARE, I LOVE HIM AND WE'RE GOING TO BE TOGETHER 4EVR!!

Kelly

+

Peter

4 EVr

And filed under "Weird Stuff" (not like me being in love with a frying pan is weird or anything), Thing 1 went to change the oil in Big Red and found this tied to the undercarriage:

There's only one obvious explanation for this:


MORE COWBELL!!

CONTAIN YOURSELF, WOMAN!!

Despite all evidence to the contrary (have you SEEN my office?), I have a "thing" for organizational stuff.  I buy books that tell me how to declutter and simplify my life.

Never mind that those books have become part of the clutter that has taken over my office, my Special Place, my Sanctuary.  Yeah, it's a mess but I LOVE my office.  Although I would love to shitcan my desk because it's huge and ugly massive and takes up way too much room because it's so huge and massive and ugly and it really doesn't have much storage which is why EVERYTHING ends up ON it instead of put away nice and neat IN it.

Anyway.

I love anything that helps you to Get Organized and today, I visited the Mecca of the Organizational World.

The Container Store.

Whose motto should be, "A Place for Everything and Everything in its Place and this is the Place to Get a Place for Everything!"

When I walked in, I thought I had died and gone to Organizational Heaven.


And, I think I gave a squeal AND a heavy sigh.


I walked up and down every. single. aisle and made sure I checked out the end-caps to see what sort of gadgetry called out to me and let me tell you, EVERYTHING called out to me.


I easily could have spent hundreds, no, THOUSANDS of dollars I don't have on stuff I'm positive I need to turn my office into a Thing of Organized Beauty.


Cabinets!  Bins!  Shelving!  Racks!  Holders!  Gadgets!


I wandered into the kitchen section and there were Cabinets!  Bins!  Shelving!  Racks!  Holders!  Gadgets that you didn't know even existed but you know you Must Have!


Everything to keep your kitchen all tidy and organized!


The Laundry/Utility Section!  Bins!  Cabinets!  Shelving!  Holders for mops, brooms, buckets!  Gadgets!!


Oh, it was Organizational overload!  There were bins to hold bins!  It was like the Matroyshka Dolls of storage!


I needed to contain myself (get it?  Who cracks herself up?  This gal!) before I exploded so I headed out the door.

But not before purchasing two items to help me in my organizational needs:  A rubber pet hair removal brush thingamajig (it works!) and lids for dog food cans.

Who's Miss Organized now?

Not this gal.

WHY?

1.  Why did I wake up feeling semi-okay despite an utter lack of sleep because TheManTheMyth kept smacking me because I was ALLEGEDLY snoring yet how can I be snoring if I wasn't even asleep and so I fought against sleep so that I wouldn't get smacked but now I have a raging headache and feel like total poo?  Oh.  Yeah.  LACK OF SLEEP.

2.  Why do people walk alongside their carts while at the supermarket instead of pushing them like normal people?  Do they not realize that they are taking up the entire aisle when they do this?  

3.  Why do people choose to go grocery shopping with the entire family and by "entire family" I mean Mom, Dad and multiple ill-behaved yard apes who are all having meltdowns because they want candy and Ding Dongs and Jolt Cola.  And these are also the people who walk alongside their carts.  The whole damn family.  Nobody pushes the cart.  They all hang on to the sides and mow down anyone in their way.

4.  Why is it I don't mind doing laundry but I hate folding it and putting it away?

5.  Why am I actually semi-excited for Christmas this year?  I'm usually of the "Bah Humbug" mind set.

6.  Why do I suck so badly at "Words With Friends?"

A DEEPLY PROFOUND KIND OF, WELL, PROFUNDITY. AND HOW KELLY GOT SCHOOLED AT THE DMV

Let me state right up front that when it comes to my religious/spiritual beliefs, I'm about as Christian as, well, Moses.  Or Pharaoh.

In other words, I'm NOT.  A Christian, that is.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

It's a Choice.  A Lifestyle, if you will.

Anyway.

Bible Thumpers annoy me.  I can't recall the last time a Muslim, Jew or Buddhist knocked on my door wanting to save my soul from eternal damnation. 

Because it's never happened.

Today, however, I had an experience at the Department of Motor Vehicles (of all places) that gave me pause.

For starters, every time I have to go to this particular DMV, I always, ALWAYS get lost.  I turn right off the freeway when I should have turned left, I turn left on the street where its located instead of turning right and by the time I figure out where I screwed up, I've taken the Ho Chi Minh Trail.

All I needed to do was renew the registration on my ATV, which expired back in 2004.  Yes, I'm a little late. My excuse is that I never received a renewal notice.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.


So the lovely Woman of Color is doing my paperwork and suddenly she leans forward and beckons me in like she's going to tell me a secret.


I lean in real close and she whispers, "Do you read the Bible?"  And I'm thinking, "Crap.  All I want is my OHV sticker and instead another well-meaning Bible Thumper wants to save my soul.  At the DMV.  Great, just great" but instead I just pleasantly say, "Some times." Which is not really a lie. 

She then tells me that there's a verse that says, "Be Still and Know that I am God" and I nod and smile and I don't say anything.


Then she tells me that when it gets all chaotic and crazy, which, at the DMV happens on a regular basis, she takes a deep breath and sits still for a moment and whispers that verse to herself.  Then, she said, she is reminded of a Greater Power and can continue to do her job without going postal.


I just continued to nod and smile and I took my items and wished her a wonderful Thanksgiving and started to toddle off when I stopped and turned back and said, "Thank you for sharing that."


And she just smiled and said, "Your welcome."


The whole way home (I didn't get lost LEAVING the DMV) I just kept hearing that lady whisper, "Be Still and Know that I am God."


And the lesson I learned today was that in times of chaos, just take a moment to be still and focus on a Positive.

This will come in handy during the chaotic holidays.


Class dismissed.

CHECK, 1, 2. CHECK, CHECK

TheManTheMyth is kicking his family out of the house over the Thanksgiving weekend.  We've all been told to find someplace else to go.

Why, you ask, and I just typed, "aks" and since when do I speak Ebonics?  

Anyhoo, the reason we have been asked to leave our place of residence is so that TMTM can re-finish our hardwood floors.  I have no idea where he is planning on sleeping unless he climbs in and out of the bedroom window.  Which is what he did the last time we refinished the floors several years ago.

Why are we refinishing our hardwood floors if we just did them a few years ago?  I'll tell you.

As I may have mentioned a time or two, we're remodeling the kitchen and dining room and the floor of the new section of the dining room is hardwood and the existing floors in the dining room, living room, entry and hallways have taken quite a beating and if we want everything to match, those areas all have to be redone.

So, there's your answer.

And now you're probably asking what refinishing hardwood floors have to do with the title of this post.

I'll tell you.

We have to move everything out of the dining room and living room and put them on our upper, covered patio and also in my office.  And in my never-ending attempts to de-clutter, I'm going through some old file cabinets so I toss that shit out.

And I found an old file box filled with bank statements and cancelled checks from the early 1990's.  And some from my days as a Spinster.

So I've been sitting here feeding checks and bank statements into my little desktop shredder and while I've been doing that, I've been taking a walk down memory lane.

It's been interesting to see checks written to department stores that are no longer in business:  May Company, Circuit City, Mervyns, The Broadway, MonkeyWard, Robinson's.  I bought records at the Wherehouse and Sam Goody.  There were regular checks made out to Crown Books and Waldenbooks.  I wrote my sister a check for $50.00 for Christmas.  The memo line on that was, "Merry Christmas, Darling!"  I purchased hosiery at Park Lane Hosiery.

I just now found a check made out to King Neptunes, which is a little seafood and bar joint.  A real dive.  I remember that night.  I went there after work to meet my sister and some friends and my sister impressed the bar crowd by putting her leg behind her head while fitting her fist in her mouth.  Some old seadog sitting nearby drunkenly asked her if she was single after that display of talent.

After my cash ran out and I still wanted to continue the shenanigans, I jokingly asked the bartender if I could cash a check and darned if he didn't say "Yes."  

Something else that I remember about that night.  The TV in the bar was on and everyone went silent when President George H. Bush came on and announced that "The Liberation of Kuwait has begun" which became known as "Desert Storm."


There are mortgage payments for our first house and our former vacation home on the Colorado River.  I also found a 17 year old check for $405.00 we got back from the escrow company when we sold the vacation house and for some reason, we never cashed it.  And that was at a time when we really were hurting for money.  I showed it to TheManTheMyth and he was all, "What the hell?"  How did we miss THAT?"


I found the final payment made on the very first car (truck, actually) I ever bought.  It was a 1985 Nissan pickup and all I could afford at the time was what was known as the Stripper Edition.  It basically came with a seat and a steering wheel.  No radio, no A/C, no power steering, no passenger mirror, no back bumper.  And I loved that truck.  Every birthday and Christmas, my family would buy something for it.  My grandma bought the stereo cassette player, my dad bought the back bumper and for my birthday the first year we were together, TheManTheMyth had A/C installed.  Seriously, that was the best material gift I've ever received.


And because shit happens this way, about 3 months after I made that final payment and had the pink slip in hand, my beloved truck was destroyed in a fire.  And to clarify, it didn't catch on fire; it was IN a fire.


Which is story in itself that I'll have to save for another time.


Among other things found in that file box o' bank statements are TMTM's divorce papers from his first marriage (I married a used husband, ladies).  I'm hanging on to those to remind him that he married Up.


I also found a 1971 Eisenhower Uncirculated Silver Dollar, still in its Official packaging.  That sucker is solid silver.  No idea what its worth is, though.  


My poor little shredder is getting so much use that the motor keeps overheating and I have to shut it down for 15 minute increments.


Okay, back to shredding.  And reminiscing.

DIARY OF A GIMPY KID. ACTUALLY, THE GIMPY KID'S MOM

So, Thing 1 survived his surgery on Wednesday.  But man, what a long-ass day!

He was originally scheduled for surgery at noon.  Then they told him to come in a 1:00pm.  And of course he can't eat or drink anything after midnight so by the time 1:00pm rolls around, he's ready to gnaw on his arm.

We check in, he gets all prepped and put in his cute little hospital gown, booties and a dapper chapeau:

He gets hooked up to his IV and then...we wait.  And wait.  And we wait some more.  At 3:00pm, he gets wheeled to the pre-op waiting area and talks with his doctor and the anesthesiologist.  He gets a shot of something and is off to LaLa Land.  Which was good because he was a nervous wreck this time.

FINALLY, at 4:00pm, which, if you do the math, is a whopping FOUR HOURS later than the original surgery time, they tell me to wave goodbye to my little boy and off he goes to surgery, to go Under the Knife.

By this time, I'M around ready to chew my arm off so I figure I'll walk somewhere (I didn't want to lose my parking spot) and get a bite to eat.  And I look in my wallet and there's a whole two bucks in there.  Which would be enough for a bottle of Two Buck Chuck (if I drank wine...which I don't) but not enough for a meal.  

Of course I would arrive at the hospital for my kid's surgery without any money.  Especially since I knew I would be there for hours.  So why bring money?  Especially since the cafeteria is right next to the lobby/waiting area and smells of food would waft out every time someone opened the door.

Which meant, if I wanted food, I had to go somewhere that took plastic.  Which narrowed my choice to MickeyD's.  Yay.

To make this day go even better, my phone decided to be a dick.  I could not get internet, even with the hospital's free WiFi, which meant I could not amuse myself on Facebook or even play Words With Friends (if anyone wants to play, I'm "Another Kelly" and I'm terrible at WWF so it'd be an easy win for you.  Just sayin').  After sending and receiving a couple of texts, the battery decided to roll over and play dead.  All in the space of about 3 hours.  Which is ANOTHER reason why I hate my phone and am counting the days until January 2, 2012 when I can upgrade.

Nothing like going off on a tangent about my stupid phone.  Again.

Back to Thing 1.

An hour and a half after he went Under the Knife, his doctor comes out and tells me everything went well, the screws and wire holding his kneecap together were removed and repairs were made to damaged cartilage and ligaments and someone would come and get me in about 45 minutes.

Waiting.  Waiting. Waiting.  Thank God I had my Kindle since I couldn't play WWF.  And in the time I sat waiting for someone to come and get me, I read 75% of a book before my eye began to twitch and the room, to pitch.

An hour and a half later, I went up to the desk and asked if I could see my kid.  He was finally brought in and we spent the next hour and half waiting for painkillers and also for him to pee because they wouldn't release him until he peed.  Both boxes were finally checked and he was wheeled out to the car.

By the time we got him in the car, the painkillers were in full effect and I believe his exact words were, "I'm higher than a kite."  And his next words were, "I think I'm gonna puke."

Yay.

I got him home without incident and put him to bed.

And to give you an idea of just how high he was, he invited his sister, Thing 2,  to sit and watch the Country Music Awards with him.

I know!!

And they kept up a conversation the whole time without a single, "No, I hate YOU!"

I know!!!

Of course, that sibling love faded as soon as the meds wore off and things were back to normal.

Well, as normal as it gets when your teenage son is literally crying because the pain in his knee was so bad and the painkillers had as much of an effect as baby aspirin?

So guess who had to call the doctor and get a new prescription for The Good Drugs?

And his doctor, bless his heart, included a prescription for a little something to keep the plumbing working, to keep things movin' and a-shakin', to make sure he doesn't plug up, if you get my drift.

And I'm sure he'd be just thrilled to know I included that part.

Thing 1 is ensconced in bed with his TV remote, his XBox 360, his iPod, his laptop, his cellphone AND a big empty jug.  And I'm sure he'd be just thrilled to know I mentioned that last item.

And with all that stuff at his fingertips, the hard part will now be getting him up and moving.  

And a-shakin'.

LIKE THE PEARL JAM SONG SAYS, "I'M STILL ALIVE."

It's been awhile since my last post and I'm sure my 1 or 2 followers have decided I'm never coming back and have transferred their blogging affections to someone else.

Well guess what, people?? I'm back.

There's been a lot of stuff going on and it's kind of taken precedence over having witty and pithy observations for your viewing/reading pleasure.

There's been some good things and some bad things that have kept me a bit preoccupied.

A beloved member of our racing community was brutally murdered last week and we're all still reeling from the shock.  


A few weeks earlier, we learned that a guy I worked with and who just did a job for us was THIS guy.  That was a bit of a shocker, too.


Let's see, what else?


Oh.  Thing 1 goes Under the Knife this afternoon for his knee.  They're taking out the screws and other flotsam and jetsam and he'll be Hopalong Cassidy for the next 6 to 8 weeks.  And driving us (read: ME) crazy.  I'm the lucky one who gets to sit in the hospital waiting room while he's sliced open.  The real fun part will be getting him into the car to bring him home and then getting him out of the car when we get home.  Then up the steps and into his bed.  And bets are on that Gracie Lou will run and jump right onto his knee in her excitement to see him.  Because that's what she does.  Just ask my sister.


The kitchen remodel is coming along.  TheManTheMyth is hard at work as we speak (okay, as I type this) building the island.  He's such a handy guy.  Useful as well as ornamental.


We picked out floor tile, which is supposed to arrive some time today.  The new hardwood section of the dining room is installed but doesn't have the finish on it.  One of these days, I WILL take a picture of how the kitchen looks so far.


A big decision was made this morning by TheManTheMyth and me.  The palm trees along our backyard fence will have to come down.  I know, I know.  But they've grown just a bit too big and one of them is on the verge of breaking the fence.  They just got too massive and we weren't expecting them to get THAT big.  The one on the left has a HUGE base and it's only going to get bigger so, they must go.

And yes, it's a clear, sunny day with winds so dry my skin is cracking and my sinuses are screaming.  Gotta love them Santa Ana winds.  However, our weather will change yet again, with rain coming our way in a couple of days.


In other, more serious news, was anyone shocked that Kim Kardashian's marriage didn't even make it 3 months?  No?  Didn't think so.  What a twit she is.  But what can you expect from someone who became famous because she was filmed letting some guy pee on her during sex.  


And is anyone shocked that Michelle Duggar and her clown car of a vagina is knocked up with Baby #20?  Because all the Duggar kids have names starting with the letter "J" I suggest that Duggar Baby #20 be named, "Jeez Louise."  Even if the baby is a boy.


And speaking of babies, I'm having a hard time believing that Justin Bieber is that gal's BabyDaddy.  But if she is, in fact, telling the truth and the Bieb IS the BabyDaddy, well, I, for one, will be shocked. And could I use any more commas in that sentence?


So that's what's going on in my world.  Now I have to take Gimpy the Kid to the hospital.  Wish us luck.