Things What I Miss

Continuing in the same vein of winter hatred/impending cabin fever madness (or as the husband calls it, "hibernation sickness") I'd like to present you with a list. A list of things that I miss, haven't done for months, and am nearly positive I'll never get to do again. Feel free to add items.

1-Bracelets (currently covered up by layers and layers of long sleeves and coats)

2-Dangle Earrings (currently get snagged on thick winter scarves or hidden by sweaters with turtlenecks)

3-Necklaces (currently get covered up by layers and layers of shirts, scarves and coats)

4-Dresses (currently have to wear long sleeves with them which covers up a lot of the pretty bits, can only currently wear thick/warm dresses which don't exist and have to wear tights with them which is limiting)

5-Sandals (currently must wear two layers of socks and clunky practical man boots)

6-Peep Toed Shoes (see above and add to that the distress of finding at least two great pairs of said shoes at the END of last season!)

7-Eating Outside (currently can't think too much about this or might go insane from longing)

8-Cold Beverages (Currently must imbibe warm beverages or room temperature at least. Remember the clinking of ice in a glass and the refreshing feeling. Think it will be never before I get to enjoy this again)

Old Man Winter

I can't decide if Old Man Winter is old because he's going to die soon or if he's old because he is cranky and spies on his neighbors. Either way he is breaking me, mind, body and spirit. How is it that this winter has lasted for two years? I swear it's been two years. The voices in my head tell me so.

Usually, I'm down with winter. Me and winter usually get along like gangbusters. Not so much this year. This year I want winter to die a very, very painful death. It seems like it started in about April of 2009 and hasn't stopped yet. Right now, there is a blizzard happening. An inch per hour for ten hours. This is like pouring bleach and salt and acid into the open gaping wound. Of a baby. That is what winter is doing to us. It's just so wrong that it's evil.

This is the first time on record that I want summer. Not even spring. Summer. I want 80 degrees and I've never wanted that in my whole time on this earth. I want a bathing suit, a swim up bar and about nine or ten fruity alcohol laced drinks. And the sun, oh mother I want the sunshine! The tropical paradise that I've been living in, inside of my head is getting alarmingly realistic. If winter doesn't quit it, I may be trapped there permanently.

I wish there was a restaurant in Rochester that had a tropical theme. With palm trees and they would crank the heat up to sweltering and you could go there to get ice cold drinks and fruit and ice cream and warmth! Warmth would be on the menu. It would be #1. I'll have the #1 please: Warmth with a side of fruit.

My hands are chapped, my lips are chapped, I can't even admit to places where I have chapping! Can I just tell you how sick I am of wearing layers? Ninety layers? Just to keep myself alive? Just to keep my fingers working on this keyboard? I'm sick to death of going around like Randy from A Christmas Story. "Put your arms down when you get to school." That's me, marshmallow woman.

Sometimes I think that the White Witch has us in her grip. Is it bound to be winter forever and never Christmas? I think maybe. I'll tell you what. If I could find Old Man Winter I'd kick him in the junk.

Cobbled

You might remember the boots from this post. I loved them right from the start and have worn them faithfully. Over the months some tragic things befell my beloved $4 boots.

Firstly, I fell down HB's back steps of death on Halloween night during the only five minutes it was sleeting. It's actually the only time I remember falling down, without catching myself before I was on the ground. Falling down steps is frightening. And it resulted in the front of both boots getting scraped. I bought a little shoe polish and fixed things up and kept wearing the boots about once a week.

Then, the unthinkable occurred. A huge crack, right across one of the soles. Super glue? No, not going to work. I could not wrap my mind around letting my $4 real Spanish leather boots go. I felt like the father from A Christmas Story when he is holding the broken pieces of his Major Award. I needed a shoe guy...a you know, what are they called? I needed an elf! No, no. I needed...a cobbler!

Then I remembered that there was a shoe repair shop right next to my gym. I brought my boots in, cradling them like an injured puppy. The shop was small, but I loved it instantly. There were home made wooden shelves lining the walls behind the small counter. They had no doubt been made and painted a cool mint green in the 50's. The shelves corralled a curious display of shoes. Other people's shoes. The cobbler was working in the back when I walked in, giving me a few moments to spy on the shoes and imagine what type of people brought them in. They each were fitted with a paper tag. There was something inspiring and magical about those rows of other people's shoes. Shoes that people love enough to take to the shoe doctor.

The cobbler came to the counter wearing a much used apron and a mustache. He bobbed his head to me and I explained my case. I know I was looking too concerned over a pair of boots. He took them gently and then proceeded to lean into the broken sole, really opening the gap up. I gasped. He smiled a quiet smile and never looked up at me from the patient. He said, "I think I can put half soles on them and new heel tips." I wasn't sure what that meant, but I was good with it. Now for the rub. How much? $30. Since I had only paid $4 for the shoes, I thought I could handle it. I shelled out the dough and he said in a quiet voice, "These are nice boots. I'll clean them up for you too."

I picked the boots up the next Saturday. He had them for one week because I couldn't get there before then. I walked in hesitantly, not knowing what had become of my boots. The cobbler looked through the shelves to find my boots and brought them to me. They were...stunning. Shiny bright! Like new! I could only goggle at them. He flipped them over so that I could see the half soles. He put new soles on my boots. With grip. And new heel tips. It was almost overwhelming, the change that had come over my $4 boots. If the counter hadn't been in the way I would have hugged that man. He seemed proud of his work in a modest craftsman like way. I thanked him profusely.

I wear these boots all the time. In the winter weather, in the rain, in the...office. The grip on the bottom actually makes them one of my least slippy pairs of shoes in the snow. And they have high heels, people! Needless to say, I want to recommend this cobbler to you. Incidentally, I don't know if he qualifies as a cobbler since he doesn't make shoes, just fixes them. Ah, well. Anyway, behold! New treads and heels!

No, my left ankle is not broken. It's hard to take a picture of your own legs at this angle, ok?

Winging with Wine

Buckle up, this is a long one. Also, unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view) we do not have pictures of this event. So, I will illustrate. Lucky you.

So, as you may or may not know, I am a horrible flyer. I dislike even thinking about being on an airplane. I loathe actually being on an airplane and I wet my pants in flight. I also claw the arm off of anyone sitting near me because of my great, great fear. I’m sure that my picture and description are on a website somewhere warning people that if they are seated next to me on a plane they should ask to be moved. Immediately.

About six months to a year before actually getting on a plane I start having stress dreams. Last time the husband and I flew I was such a mess that I transferred my anxiety straight into him via small flesh wounds in his arms made with my hands which had transfigured into beastlike talons. He couldn't calm down the whole trip whereas, as soon as we touched down I was right as rain, happy as a clam. Poor kid.

So a plan was devised for this most recent trip. I would go to the doctors, get a prescription for something very strong and be unconscious by take off. A good time would be had by all. When we made this decision my stress dreams changed from being on a plane to forgetting my medicine and being on a plane. Adorable.

So get the meds - Valium. Just a few pills for the way down a few for the way back. The doc tells me not to mix it with alcohol or I "will not like the results". I don't ask why. She tells me to be careful with the pills since I'm a small person. One pill should do me just fine. I'll be asleep for 4-10 hours. The husband starts worrying about dragging a limp body off of the plane.

I am calm the entire day, putting all my trust in chemistry. I don't worry because I know that I'll be asleep before take off. Glee! I take the pill one half hour before getting on the plane, as instructed. I walk on the plane, feeling too normal. I start to worry. This is not good. I had forgotten how small planes are! My claustrophobia sets in as I scrunch by already small body into a coffin like seat between the husband and my friend HB. They both look worried. The medicine hasn't kicked in. Which one of them is going to sacrifice their arm to the claw beast? I close my eyes and tilt my head up so that I'm breathing in the cold air from the spigot above on the ceiling button console. I try to relax, try to feel myself getting sleepy, falling asleep. Nothing.

I coach the husband and HB to hold tightly to my wrists as we take off. It is at this point that I realize our pilot must be (enter name of Nascar driver here). He goes 1,000 miles per hour and angles up at about 90 degrees. I'm fairly certain I'm going to die. My butt hurts from clenching. Sleep is nowhere in sight. I can't even have any alcohol for fear that I "wont like the results". I try to relax. It does no good. About an hour in I say I'd like another pill. The husband doesn't think it's a good idea. HB says to do it. She isn't scared of dragging a lifeless body off of a plane. I compromise and take a half. It does nothing.

About an hour before we land I've had it. I can't control myself any longer. I'm about to start climbing over the seats and screeching like an owl. I look at the husband with wild eyes. "I need something", I say. He looks like he's going to start rocking back and forth while singing twinkle twinkle little star. I look at the laptop that he's watching a movie on. "I need that. I need the internet." He promptly pays the $10 for an hour of internet without hesitation, bless him. It wasn't the greatest, but it got me through.

Now, on the way home I devised a plan: Alcohol. Lots of it. The flight back was at 3:00 pm. I started a regimen of drinks at 8. I was happily slurring over my Mikey Mouse shaped pancakes. After breakfast we watched some Sesame Street in our room. I was drinking red wine out of a soda cup with a straw. It was the husband's job to keep me awake. If I could just maintain a nice level of drink induced happiness and not fall asleep I'd be able to fall asleep immediately on the plane. He failed. He fell asleep, and then what's a girl to do? So, I had to start all over.

The only thing was that we had to get on the bus to the airport at 11. We didn't make it to the airport and through the line until 2:00 pm. I ran to the bar. I never run, I hate running. My body isn't shaped for running. But I did, because that's commitment. Hurriedly I gulped down a glass of red wine, a long island iced tea and another glass of red wine. We boarded the plane at about 2:45. I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I was fairly sleepy, but before closing my eyes I was able to ask Nick to get me some wine when the cart came around. I then added that "I'd never forgive" him if he didn't. That was the liquor talking. I think.

At any rate the ride home was fantastic. I spent most of it asleep, a bit of time talking endlessly to HB about who knows what, and some of it looking out the window. Without peeing my pants! I was more or less awake for both landing and take off and was fine during both. I bought a bottle of red wine when I got home and every time I taste it I think about the airplane. In a good way! Let me recommend this course of action to anyone who hates to fly! It's amazing and getting sloshed is the best thing you could do for yourself. Ever.

Disney Dreamin'

We just got back from a week long vacation at Disney World in Florida. It's one of our favorite vacation destinations. The fakeness of it is somehow charming, like an old movie. It always makes me think of The Importance of Being Earnest in particular.

At any rate it was a week full of indulgence and it was much needed.

In case you didn't know, Hollywood Studios, one of the Disney Parks has a Muppets Store. An entire store devoted to the Muppets. They also have a courtyard that continuously plays Muppet songs, has a Muppet Fountain and they also have a 3D film. The last thing Jim worked on before he died.

Well, you can just imagine!

In case you can't...

So, we've got that. All of that. I can't even describe to you the utter delight. You'll just have to try to imagine it. A nearly impossible task, but good luck.

I don't generally buy a whole lot in Disney because, I'm not that big a fan of the Mouse. I mean, I like him, and I generally love the old shorts and have seen them all multiple times. But I don't feel like wearing him as jewelry or on a shirt or whatever. But in the Muppet Store all bets are off. Obviously. The Frog, we love. The Frog, we'll wear. Heck, the Frog, we'll tattoo on our body. I mean, we haven't yet, but we're thinking about it. That's how much we love the Frog. And by "we" I mean, me.

The first thing I bought is almost too amazing and awe inspiring to show you. I'm not sure you can handle it. It could push someone out there over the edge of sanity. The only reason I'm not in a padded cell right now is because I had back up. Nick found the item and eased me into viewing it. He held my hand, he took it to the cash register. He found out that it was half price. Then he asked me why I didn't freak out. It was then that I taught him about poker face. You may want to sit down. Behold....!


...can...you...even..?!!? Would...you...ever....?!!? I love cross over collections! OK, granted I don't have a Star Wars collection, but I have forced others to have said collection and that nearly counts! Please don't miss Rizzo as Yoda or Gonzo as Vader. HALF PRICE!!! $6!! Can you STAND it? I don't think I can. We had better move on.


These items were picked up in the Disney store. Comic book (for which I received a riveting and somewhat sentimental account of "kids today" from the cashier), Muppet silly bands, plush Kermit key chain and Muppet Yatzee where Kermit's head is the cup!! I need to re-learn how to play Yatzee now.

So...Disney Pin Trading. I'm not sure I can explain it well enough, so that you'll be able to understand the process. I know I didn't believe it when I heard it for the first time. It was too good to be true. OK, here we go. People who work at Disney wear a lanyard with Disney pins on it. All different pins, all different characters. If you, in turn wear a lanyard and purchase pins you may trade them for other pins with the people who work there. Here's what you really need to know" A-There are Muppet Pins. Loads of them. B-I buy the Disney pins at yardsales for a quarter a piece to trade. Otherwise they are like $9-$20 each. Yiye.

Trading went well this year. Very, very well.

Yes, in case you are wondering, that is Sam the Eagle dressed as Obi Wan. (!!!!) Onward to summer to stock up on trade pins again!

OOC

I guess a lot of things feel out of control in my life right now. For someone who is a control freak like me, it can mean a very bad emotional road.

One of the things that I like to do when I'm feeling all angsty is craft.

Start with a little of this.

Move on to some of this. The thing on the left is the craft project. It's a papier mache character on a base that I bought at the craft store. (a small papier mache box) Inside the body of the character is a wooden dowel and wire for the legs. Nail for the neck.

I don't usually use Fimo. Now I know why. I hate that junk. It never really softened up to the point where I like clay to be. I had to wrestle with it. It's crap. I'm not using it again. Nothing you can say will change my mind.

The whole process took me about a week of working on it after work for a few hours a night. This is the final product.







He's right dapper. Maybe all the paint, papier mache and glue will hold me together for another season.

Thrifting with The Guru

It is relatively well known that Wednesdays are half-off days at the Salvation Army Thrift Stores. All shoes and clothes are half price, except for one color tag. I don't generally have Wednesday off, but I did this week. So my friend Ann (The Guru) and I decided to go. She never misses a half-off Wednesday if she is free.

We went to the huge store at 535 E Ridge Rd. It's huge. So, so, so many clothes.

When we walked through the door the jewelry counter is just to the right, so we stopped there first. Ann has a quick eye and picked out three pieces before I could blink. While she was having them set aside I went to the shoe section. I found TWO pairs of shoes in my size. Both Mudd brand, each $2 with the sale. Check it.

They both have pretty small heels, but enough so as to disguise the hideous cankles. And that really is the whole point.

Next it was off to dresses. This is where the Guru always hopes to hit it big. She loves dresses. I mean loves. And let's just put it out there right now, she's got a lot of them. As well as other kinds of clothes. Lots. More than anyone else I know. More than some stores. Her giant wardrobe is lovingly curated from a wide variety of thrift stores in our area. That's why she's The Guru. She puts in the time and is rewarded, more often than not. She also talks a good talk and gets others interested in thrifting as is her wont.

I found THREE dresses. This may seem like a small number to you, but I'm telling you...I have a hard body to fit. I'm 5'2" when I'm lying to make myself seem taller. I have giant breasts, a very small waist and a round thing in your face. Probably .00000000001% or less of the clothes on earth are created for people like me. I loathe shopping for clothes. I've even tried the really expensive stores, hoping that maybe if I shell out a little extra dough I'll be able to get something that at least fits right. No dice. Honestly, I do just as well at thrift stores, which is to say, generally not well at all. And with thrift stores at least it's reusing and cheap. Two things I love.

$2.50-Sfuzi(??)

I've already worn this hot little number. It's a little longer than most of my dresses. Goes all the way to my knees. One of those things you have to deal with when your legs are two inches long. This makes the third plaid dress I have. Get some tights, long socks and motorcycle boots and you are all set. Although the husband is not a fan of the motorcycle boots. He bought them, but he pretty much hates the things. I, on the other hand, love them!

$2.00-Mossimo/Target

It's going to have to be about 40 degrees warmer outside before I can wear this slinky thing. It looks sort of like a slip, but it's made of really soft cotton which sort of reminds me of cheese cloth or mummy wrappings. It hugs you in all the right places, and as discussed above, I have those places.

$2.00-Divided by H&M
Yep. I'm just going to let this one sink in for a minute.
...
Yep.

Firstly, I generally loathe yellow. I mean, I hate it. To death. I think I have maybe two t-shirts that are yellow. But, they are creamy lemon yellow. Not this color. I'm not sure I even knew this color existed. The Guru and I pulled it off the rack to sort of be like "WOW, look at this one! Holy cow, that is bright!" But then we were kind of taken with it by surprise. So I tried it on as a sort of joke thing and then we both really liked it. So I bought it, for all of $2. It's also obviously never been warn. Very cool.

I'm planning to wear it tonight, which is New Year's Eve. With hot pink tights. Because there is no toning this thing down, so you might as well go with it. And the little brown shoes from above. And obviously a sweater. Maybe the brown one that I'll show you in a minute. Check out the detail on this fabric pattern. Too. Stinking. Cute.

We decided it made me look like a cartoon character. In a good way.

$1.00-Old Navy

A staple. Black long sleeved shirt. I wear them all the time. I only currently have one, so I got another.

$2.00-Old Navy

The brown sweater I was talking about. Let's not mention the fact that I've got two others that are very similar, ok? Let's ignore the fact that I might have a problem. Oh good, I'm glad we're all on the same page. Sometimes I'm just a sucker for something this cheap that has cute detailing:

See what I mean?

$2.00-Mark by Avon

Avon isn't just for grandmothers anymore. By now you know that I love Avon. I've never had any Avon clothing though. This sweater has great texture and is very soft. The three small, brown buttons are all different from one another. Love! Great for the spring/summer over a little dress and also appropriate for fall/winter with a long sleeved something or other under it.

$2.99-Roxy

Now, as you can see, this is a green tag item. This means that it was not on sale. I splurged and paid all three dollars. Sometimes you just have to treat yourself, ya know? ;) It still has the original sale tag, as you can see. I'm exited to bring this one to Florida/Disney. It's sort of 80's and Tropical. Probably I'll wear it whilst listening to Kokomo and sipping a Pina Colada. Aw yeah.

$1.00-Muppets

I don't plan to actually wear this. It's not my size. But, it was a buck and well, you know. Muppets. You haven't seen the Muppet Room yet. Or, at least a few of you haven't. You aren't ready yet. It's too shocking. I do have a stack of Muppet clothes that I either don't wear anymore or aren't my size. I'm planning a quilt. At some point. Let's stop talking about it. Your stares are making me uncomfortable.

$2.99-Forever

This was also a green tag. I treated myself twice! I am very spoiled. This piece needs to visit an iron, but it's super cute and fits great. I love these little jacket things.

$2.99-Vintage

This little gem was hiding in a shopping cart near the check out. A whole cart of newly processed bags and purses. Yoink! Vintage and delicious! It wasn't on sale. OK, so I treated myself three times. Told you I was spoiled!

Speaking of shopping carts...while I was in the checkout line with a cart crammed full of our finds a little old lady sidles up to me. She says, "Are you in line to check out?" I tell her that I am, in fact. She then looks content, folds her hands in front of her on her pocket book and settles in. I shrug and think, "OK, weird. Apparently she wants to wait. With me. Right next to me, almost touching me. Alright." So I go on staring at her, not knowing quite what to do, trying to get The Guru's attention so that maybe she can help me decide what on earth is going on with grandma. Finally my stare must have actually started drilling through her head and causing her a bit of pain. She turned to me with a slightly condescending way and says, "Can I have your cart when you are done with it?" Like it's too obvious why we are standing so close we are practically sharing a coat. Once I realize what the eff is going on I start clawing my goods out of the cart so that she can take the durned thing and leave me some breathing space. It was weird.