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25 December
Merry Christmas
The second oven works. There are two, count them, two ovens in my kitchen.
The primary oven is a new modern white oven/stovetop just like everyone else
in the world owns. The second oven is a little pink number mounted in the
wall. We had so much food to cook/reheat, the second oven was recruited. It
was quite an exciting moment as the heating element kicked on. OK, so exciting
is being a bit dramatic, but it's good to know the second (original) oven
works.
Until today, I was going to remove the pink oven and turn it into a microwave
nook. Now, I'm wondering, should I keep the second oven around for special
accessions? Is it worth having a second oven that is only used once a year?
23 December
Screwed
The only task remaining in my kitchen is the re-installation of the cabinet
handles. It seemed like a good idea to replace the old, soft screws with new
ones. Following my father's recommendation, I visited a local hardware store
on my quest to obtain new screws. The good news was they had a replacement
screw; the bad news was they only had 12... I need 70. The hardware guy recommended
another store. The next store had, and I quote, a 1,000 screws that would
fit, but they weren't the proper type. He recommended another store, but he
couldn't remember the name. He tried to give me a general location, but proceeded
to contradict himself three times. My quest for new screws will take me to
Home Depot or Lowes on Christmas Eve.
Our traditional drink til you drop beer night fizzled out around 6:15pm. That's
why I'm blogging right now, because I'm not drinking. Something is not right
with the world.
22 December
Burnt whiskers
Animals are supposedly born with natural instincts. Instincts, which allow
them to lead long prosperous lives. Its possible Muffin was born without these
instincts. Muffin decided to sniff a burning candle, which resulted in burned
whiskers. Aren't all living creatures instilled with an internal voice that
says, warning - hot...stay away? Perhaps the flickering light mesmerized
her. Perhaps she was lured in by the smell of black cherry. Perhaps she never
encountered a burning candle before. Perhaps she is dumb as a stump. She seems
to be fine except for one whisker burnt into a small curl.
We had our work Christmas party today and the WOMAN gave Christmas presents
to all of the full time staff. The men received beer steins, which flashed
catchy messages. The women received a coffeecake mix in a mason jar. Why did
the guys get the cool gift, relatively speaking, while the women received
a gift for Betty Crocker?
I certainly don't cook as much as I drink and the WOMAN knows this. In fact,
there's only one female full-time staff member who cooks...the rest of us
drink. Drinking instead of cooking is the wave of the future. Beer can replace
food as a meal if the correct beer is chosen for dinner.
Anyway, my mother will be receiving a nice coffeecake mix as an additional
Christmas present. She enjoys cooking and shuns drinking.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:10 PM
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21 December
Don't eat this food
I've discovered the nastiest food ever made...Tombstone pizza. I urge you
to warn your loved ones about this frozen diaster sold for profit. Frozen
pizzas aren't known for being tasty, but at least most are edible. I'm ready
to eat at the Wal-Mart snack counter before eating that crap! Bleck. Fritter
did enjoy the hamburger off of the pizza, but Fritter also eats things off
the floor.
After smacking Righty in the head, she invited me to watch LOTR: Return of
the King with lil' lutey, mr lutey and grandlutey. The movie was entertaining,
but there was a weeper in the theatre. This lady, who happened to be two rows
in front of me, cried at everytime the music got slow, everytime someone gave
a meaningful speech or whenever Frodo looked sad. I think weepers need to
be segregated from the rest of the crowd. Go weep in a corner away from us
non-weepers. Nothing ruins a movie more than constant sniffling.
I never bothered to read the LOTR books so I don't know the characters other
than what's on screen. That being said, I detected a lot of subtext between
hobbits.
After the movie, Righty gave me the best Christmas present I received this
year. OK, I've only received one Christmas present so far, but it is the best
present ever...Strangers With Candy, Season 2. Jerri Blank warms my heart.
ramblings by Whitey on 10:23 PM
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Tree nub
I got up early, which is quite a chore for me and went for my positive karate
class. Although it wasn't particularly positive, I did land my first spinning
back kick against my sparring partner. Moments later, she landed her first
hook kick to the head...my head. Righty neglected to bring her sparring gear
and got pounded by several opponents. I'd like to wail on those folks on her
behalf but I clocked her in the head with a round kick. Hey Righty, if you're
reading this, next time, kick my ass!
There's a dead pine tree in my yard that's dangerously close to falling into
my neighbor's yard. Chunks of this tree have been falling off in pieces into
my yard. I figured it would continue like that until it was just a nub.
A strong wind last week uprooted it and now it's leaning towards my neighbor's
yard. Somehow a large branch from my neighbor's tree is preventing the tree
from falling. I've got this idea about tying a rope around it and pulling
it down with my Jeep. The only problem with this plan is the rope placement.
My Dad is weary of my plan and doesn't want to make the attempt. I've called
the brother-in-laws for help. It's only a matter of time before another strong
wind kicks up and moves the support tree. At least if the tree falls, it will
only knock out part of their chain link fence.
Damn, if I had a digital camera I could show you the leaning tree of pine.
Maybe it will still be up after Christmas...so I can take photo...with my
new digital camera.
19 December
Beer!
Beat the ho-hums of life with beer. It is the answer to all of life's problems.
18 December
This sucks
After bitching to KJ and Righty about being demoralized in karate, I decided
to chat with my instructor. The office manager and red belt of horror both
encouraged me to speak up; after all I'm paying classes. Furthermore, the
office manager believes the lack of encouragement is the main reason why several
students leave the school. OK, so now I feel like it's my duty to say something,
it's as if I'm representing the downtrodden karate students everywhere.
When I finally get to speak with my instructor, who also happens to be the
school owner, I ask him if we (meaning the royal we) could get some positive
feedback along with the ever present constructive criticism. He laughed at
me…that wasn't the response I expected. It's quite a blow to the ego when
someone laughs at you.
Undeterred, I continued to explain my request hoping I could salvage what
remained of my dignity. Upon reflection, I probably babbled and didn't state
my case like in a logical manner. It looks like I'm fishing for compliments,
which is so not what I'm doing. I just want to hear some good stuff, occasionally.
It's hard to stay motivated for a year and half without some encouragement.
After I finished talking, he tells me I should come to Saturday's class because
he will be the most positive person I've ever seen. Again that’s not the response
I was expecting. I felt like he was mocking me. This totally sucks.
Moving on to another topic that sucks, I kicked young Ken in the nuts while
sparring tonight. It wasn't intentional, but that doesn't make it any less
painful for YK. He spent the rest of the evening squatting in a corner trying
to regain his composure.
I learned several lessons this evening: let someone else speak up for the
poor huddle masses, ignore the advice of office manager and red belt of horror,
and YK should learn to block.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:16 PM
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A tale of two foods
Like every good southerner, fried chicken is at the top of my food pyramid.
I've got extra love for chicken tenders. It's all the goodness of fried chicken
wrapped up in a smaller package without bones. I make it a point to partake
of the chicken tenders at least once a week. A bit excessive, yes, but we
are talking about fried chicken here. Also, it's mostly Atkins friendly. Ok,
so the flour batter is well, flour, but that’s why I said mostly. Yeesh, what
are you the food police?
I enjoyed, seven, chicken fingers today. Before I get e-mails about not making
wise food choices, I drank a glass of water with my chicken. The minerals
contained in the water counteracts everything bad in the fried chicken and
makes up for two servings of vegetables…according to nutritional pamphlet
I'm making up.
This restaurant, if that's what you call it, only serves chicken and fries.
That's it. You want chicken, you go to this place. If they're only serving
chicken and fries, why is the wait is so long? They're only cooking two foods,
no other choices, no special requests, just chicken and fries. Why does it
take so damned long? You see a big group of people, drop some more chicken
in the vast of grease. How long does it take chicken to fry up in an industrial
fryer? I'm not fry expert, but I'd guess it takes about .05 seconds.
When it comes to getting my food fast, I want what was promised, my food fast.
My only character flaw, as far as you know, is that I'm impatient. There I've
said it. Waiting for things makes me grumpy. I'm grumpy right now because
it's taking me so long to finish this damn blog. I want it up now! I want
your comments now!
However I've got a double standard when it comes to impatience. I have and
always will want things right now. But if you want something right now, you'll
have to wait. I will not be bullied or rushed into doing something on anybody's
time table but my own.
I'd like to end this rant on a positive note, I'm positive that it should
not take so long for one order of chicken.
17 December
I made another stop into Wal-Mart today and I want to know who eats at the
Wal-Mart snack shop. It smells like year old grease if you get within a 50ft
radius of the snack counter. Do people actually eat food cooked in that hellhole?
I'll always seen shoppers sitting at the tables but I'm not sure I've witnessed
someone ingest their food.
Muffin killed a snake yesterday. It was a little gray and orange fellow. That
makes her kill total two - a squirrel and a snake. Fritter's kill total is
zero...unless you count a roach the accidentally killed with her nose. I say
it doesn't count.
Here's an update of kitchen work I've done since Saturday: one coat of red
paint on all wood trim/baseboards, two coats of red paint on crown molding,
regrout kitchen tiles, paint both bathroom doors and cabinets, touch up ceiling,
and finally, soak nasty ass handles in ammonia.
It seems like there is no end to the work that needs to be done. However,
it looks like some things are getting lopped off the list.
ramblings by Whitey on 10:14 PM
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15 December
I feel like LL Cool J
Yes, I feel like LL Cool J. And you're thinking, what you feel like a
large black man? Sometimes I do, but that's besides the point.
When it cold out, like now, I wear sweats to bed. When I wake up, my pant
legs are pushed up to my knees.
I'm totally styling like LL.
14 December
Old lady gunk
I've decided to paint the cabinet and drawer handles rather than replace
em. Actually I didn't decide as much as my budget decided. Before painting,
I opted to clean the gunk off. After soaking in a bucket of water and bleach
for 5 hours, I figured that would knock anything and everything off those
handles. I was wrong. Enter old toothbrush for thirty minutes of scrubbing;
I figure that in addition to the bleach would clean em good. I was wrong,
again. Enter plan B, boiling water. Boiling water cleans everything, right?
I even tossed in some Dawn because it takes grease away. The handles soaked
for 30 minutes in boiling dawn filled water. For good measure I hit the handles
again with the toothbrush. Enter plan C. I've got to buy some Ammonia and
resume soaking tomorrow evening.
I'm totally grossed out by the condition of those handles. After soaking,
bleaching, and scrubbing some much gunk remains. Gah! Little old lady who
owned this house before me was not a clean lady. It also seems I need to bleach
and scrub anything with a handle in this house.
I hate Target
Target lovers of the world listen up, I hate Target. Why do you love that
place? Wal-Mart is cheaper and has a bigger selection.
In my quest for a new tree topper, I visited Target against the advice of
that little voice inside my head. All I needed was a tree topper, a snowflake
tablecloth and some dog toys. My only purchase was dog toys.
I was unable to find one tablecloth in the entire store. And I don't mean
a Christmas tablecloth, I mean any tablecloth. As for the new tree topper,
I get to keep using the current one, a white star. I wanted something different,
something fun, like a lighted snowman, Homer or black santa. Did I get one,
no. However, Wal-Mart did have Christmas table cloths, I bought two, a cat
stocking for Muffin, tinsel for the doorway arch and a Christmas doormat.
Allow me to rail on Target some more: doormat at Target = $7.95; doormat at
Wal-Mart = $2.50.
Today we said goodbye to the bird and the lamb. Fritter chewed both animals
to their death. She ripped out all the stuffing, found the squeaker and chewed
it to bits. I'm especially saddened by the death of lamb; he's been with us
for 1 year. Her new toys include a squirrel and a kangaroo. Tomorrow we take
pictures with Santa.
ramblings by Whitey on 12:08 AM
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12 December
Blue spruce, fraiser fur or some kinda pine tree
I bought my Christmas tree this evening. I can't remember what kind it is,
other than green and prickly. O'Dell and her hubby, let's call him Mr. O'Dell,
helped me unload the tree and get it situated in the stand. Then we went shopping
at the ghetto mall. The ghetto mall is not my favorite, well let's be honest
here, I can't imagine why would anyone call it their favorite. I guess every
town needs a good mall and a crappy mall.
It was my intention to buy Christmas gifts for family members, but I ended
up buying stuff for my kitchen. That's the Christmas spirit, things for me!
Yah!
Speaking of the kitchen, my sister, let's call her Juju, gave me her seal
of approval on its new look. She also told me to quit calling the kitchen
names like hotel lobby or peanut butter on cheese because other people might
start to call it that. What the hell?! I dare someone to call my kitchen a
hotel lobby!! Well that's just not true, I hope my visitors come up with their
own creations. I encourage creativity.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:17 PM
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11 December
Hey this post doesn't suck so much
The concept of messy hair on purpose is lost on many, especially those at
karate. When I arrived to class this evening, two people made sure I realized
my hair was sticking up in the back. I sighed and reminded them it's styled
that way on purpose. Ok, but was I aware it was sticking up in the back? Gah!
I've reached my limit with the things I'm doing wrong in karate. Every night
the instructors point out what needs work or what techniques need improvement.
I get that, that's part of learning. But it would also be nice to hear once
every six months the things I'm doing right. Or even the things I'm not screwing
up.
Something like hey your kick didn't suck so much would totally lift
my self-esteem. That's just sad.
ramblings by Whitey on 10:02 PM
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10 December
Welcome to Hotel Hell
I decided that in addition to looking like peanut butter on cheese and/or
seventies shag carpet, my kitchen has a distinct hotel lobby feel to it. Remember
that show Hotel
with Connie Sellecca and James Brolin? That's my kitchen theme right now.
Gold lame' meets romance except lose the romance part.
09 December
Primp juice
During the end karate class this evening, a photographer shows up to shoot
an ad my instructor is placing in a local magazine. It was asked that the
girls line up to take photos and while everyone else should continue training.
Several male students stood in confusion as a group of women continued to
train. Someone mentioned, again, girls were taking photos, not training. My
inner femi-nazi peaked her head out and said, well I am a woman, not a
girl. I think they meant little girls.
Later on, the adult women had an opportunity to pose for a photo. Later as
in, after class, once we've worked up a good sweat, with no makeup and hair
askew. Hey, if I'm gonna be a karate model, I want to be clean and sweat free
- looking hot while kicking ass, not looking like ass and being hot. Gah!
The thought that this picture might circulate for the entire world to see
mortifies me.
Anyway, as we pose for our picture, the photographer comes over and tries
to smooth out my hair. I mention that the back is purposely styled messy in
the back; I put a lot of product in my hair to achieve said look. Unimpressed
with this, she continues to mess with my hair. What's the point to trying
to fix the karate hair after it's drenched with sweat? I look like a drowned
rat no matter what you do to my hair.
Lil' lutey made a point of asking me if his mom told me what he said (how
I'm cute and all). Then he promptly hid before I could respond. Since lil'
lutey is so shy, I thought flirting would be my best response to his statement
of love. Well, I tried to flirt with him during class but nine year old boys
are very perceptive to my wooing techniques. Notice I said boys not men, I
know the difference. Uhem.
Kitchen Update - Independent observer #1, let's call her
O'Dell, stopped by to view the kitchen project. She approves of the new look
and assures me it doesn't look seventy-ish. She also noticed that someone
in corporate America screwed up on the desert rouge. Although the red represented
on the picture is called desert rouge the actual color is Earthen Red. I never
compared the paint card with the picture. I figured if it was labeled desert
rouge and I bought desert rouge, the colors would match.
O'Dell thought it best to march over to Lowes and demand they fix my paint
problem. She was convinced we could make it there before closing at 9pm although
it was already 8:50pm. We arrived at 9:02 and found the doors locked to which
O'Dell blamed on my primping.
If you call brushing your teeth and putting on a bra primping, well then,
I'm guilty.
ramblings by Whitey on 10:23 PM
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08 December
Peanut Butter on Cheese
That's how I would describe my kitchen walls right now. The sponging was
easier than I thought. It took about two hours, however I'm convinced I like
the outcome. I need a second opinion. AND if I had a digital camera, I'd posts
pictures and let the world vote. Damn I need a digital camera.
The cabinets look more gold than wheatgrass. But I've got a plan...I'm going
to paint a border of desert rouge. That's right, more painting. Either I'm
a visionary or vision impaired.
The walls also remind me of shag carpet. I've got this 70's retro look working
and I don't like the 70's. I'll go so far as to say I hate the 70's. Perhaps
I'm just not forward thinking enough to embrace the new design. Maybe I'll
start a trend.
While I sponged tonight, Fritter destroyed her toy bird, chewed up two red
tennis balls, and pulled the leg off of her cow. Maybe she's feeling stressed
over the new color scheme.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:36 PM
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07 December
Tastes Like Sugar
I'm sure you don't need to be told that the Tigers are going to the Sugar
Bowl! We've tossed around the idea of getting tickets for the game, however,
$400-$800 for one ticket in the nosebleeds does not sound exciting. Sixteen
dollars for two six packs of malt beverage drinks does sound exciting. I guess
it's the couch and bubba burgers for the group in January.
My designers, i.e. my sisters, have given me approval to switch colors. I'd
like you, my valued reader, to get a glimpse into the future colors of my
kitchen. AND since I don't have a digital camera, I've scanned in the color
cards.
Weird spacing issue below.
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Original colors |
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Since the kitchen walls are painted Mulling Spice, I'm going to sponge a diluted
Wheatgrass on top in hopes of lightening the pumpkin color. I've already painted
my cabinets Wheatgrass, which looks a lot like peanut butter when dry.
I didn't want a paint matching fiasco at Wal-Mart so I opted to purchase the
colors at Lowes. I figure the paint will match the card exactly...it does. However,
Lowe's will only sell certain colors in certain paint brands. Instead of paying
$14.77 for Dutch Boy at Wal-Mart, I paid $21.97 for American Tradition at Lowes.
I feel like I've just been screwed by corporate America.
I squeezed in some leaf mulching today. I hope the neighbors are happy.
05 December
The Young Uns
I found out today that Lutey's 9 year old son, let's call him lil' lutey,
thinks I'm cute. I've got the market cornered on the younger male species.
I've got lots-o-love coming from a 2 year old, a 17 year old and now a 9 year
old. Perhaps I should wear a sign warning mothers that their young boys will
become smitten with me.
I journeyed to Home Depot in hopes of acquiring a sponge roller to fix my
mulling spice woes. Damn if Home Depot does spoil things again. Not one songre
roller in the whole store. So I traveled to Lowes. Their bright and colorful
paint displays lured me into a trance. I browsed their paint cards and decided
to change my color scheme. However, learning from my previous painting mistakes,
I didn't purchase any paint, I'm holding off until I consult my designers.
ramblings by Whitey on 10:24 PM
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04 December
Leaves, damn you
My stepford neighbors need to stop their obsession with maintaining a perfect
lawn. This is the time of year to let your lawn go to hell, at least that's
my philosophy. I can't compete with retired folk who mulch/mow every two days.
Even my lazy neighbors spent time blowing leaves in piles before Thanksgiving.
When my lazy neighbors attempt yard work before me, I know something is wrong
in the world.
As it stands now, I'm the only one in a four block radius without a pristine
yard. On the plus side, I'm also probably the only one in the entire neighborhood
with an orange kitchen. I put a second coat of mulling spice on last night.
The walls went from a brownish orange to orange.
Forced to choose between fixing my walls this weekend and doing lawn work,
I'm painting this weekend. I have to stare at those walls inside and my neighbors
have to stare at my yard.
03 December
Knitting High School Away
According to the 24 hour Christmas music radio station, if you are stressed
out due to Christmas, you should try knitting. Apparently knitting someone
you love a well-crafted scarf or sweater melts stress away. At this very moment
researchers around the world are scrambling to adjust years of theories.
I must have high school on the brain this week. I'm positive that I've spotted
my high school nemesis, let's just call her Stacy DeJohn, twice this week.
Let me clear up a few things. First, she was not my only nemesis; but she
is the only one I've seen in a local commercial and at World Market. Second,
I can't remember why I hate her, but it probably has something to do with
her snobbish attitude, perfect hair and evil eyes. From what I could tell
in that commercial, she still has evil eyes, a snobby attitude and perfect
hair.
In teenage girl land you either have perfect hair or you don't. She, damn
her, was one of those girls that had perfect hair. My how the tables have
turned. I'm willing to bet she has mange and is wearing a wig to disguise
it! HA! OK, she probably doesn't have mange, but its fun to dream. Anyway
my current hair has been called 'sassy' and I think that trumps perfect.
Dear Stacy DeJohn,
If you're reading this blog, you know that I hate you. Why are you reading
my blog? - I hate you!
Hugs and kisses,
Whitey
I'm comforted in the fact I will wear my I HATE PEOPLE shirt
to work tomorrow in memory of Stacy DeJohn and all those teenage girls with
perfect hair.
02 December
Jerri Says
 Since
I'm unable to produce my own witty thoughts today, here's a few of my favorite
quotes from Jerri Blank:
I like the pole and the hole.
Befriending new people can lead to having sex with your children, accidentally.
I do like black people. It just took a white one to prove it to me.
It makes me as damp as a cellar down there. All mildewy. Enter if you dare.
Don't worry, I can't get pregnant. My ovaries are diseased.
My vagina is on fire. I'm trying not to scratch it, Orlando... I'm afraid
it'll get infected.
01 December
A dog and her gas
Fritter had a play date with Ozzy this past Friday. While I was busy watching
the game, Fritter was running around Ozzy's yard digging holes, knocking over
small children, climbing on picnic tables and peeing on leaf piles. She also
ate all of Ozzy's food.
Because there's a steady stream of critters (opossum, raccoon, 2 year old
boy) eating Ozzy's food, his bowl stays full in the hope he might get a bite.
Fritter ate about a pound of food no one was looking.
Let me just say that Ozzy's pound of dog food gave Fritter the worst gas ever.
At first I thought the heater was burning. Nope, it was my little dog. Gas,
produced from any living being, is never pleasant, but her gas smelled like
burnt rubber.
I love my dog, but not her gas.
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