I sent in a note in response to a question James Lileks wrote about stupid arguments spouses have. See Backfence: Peace and quiet — at 10 paces to see my letter in glorious black and white. This a long and on-going stupid argument, regardless of where Mr. Dump currently lives.
Month: January 2003
Okay, I change my mind
Sim Vacation
I am a member of a mailing list for Top Five List contribs (http://www.topfive.com) and lately conversation has drifted to the Sims (Online and the Pet expansion pack). I need to find my Sims CDs because I don’t think I ever loaded the game on this computer, and I want to play it. I know I have the Livin Large expansion pack, and maybe possibly the party one, but in Target today I saw the Vacation expansion pack and that’s the one I think I “need” most. Hot Date might be fun but depressing (oh, look, not only do *I* not go out, but my Sims can’t get a date either!). And I don’t want to do the online version. I know it’s hard to believe, but for as many years as I’ve been online (and that dates back to the BBS I ran in 1987) I’ve never been into live “chatting”. Exchanging volumes of email, sure. Even conversing here in the comments section. But not live chat. When I play JT’s Blocks on Yahoo I don’t even notice that there are conversations going on in the window below me (except for that one time there was a catfight going on between two women about this guy they knew).
Anyway, it was $30 at Staples and the same at Target. $30 seems a lot for an add-on to a game I haven’t played in a year, which is why I’m going to find the disks. Not that I can afford to buy it right now anyway, but I’ll put it on my mental shopping list.
Which for some reason reminds me: I need to get my license renewed by Monday. Don’t let me forget!
Scrubby Crisis
I have this certain type of dish scrubber that I fell in love with years ago. They are the only kind I really really like…Ecco makes them and they are a sponge on one side and a scrubber surface on the other, with wire twisted around them on a handle. They are perfect.
Well, they don’t appear on the shelves of the stores I normally frequent, and for a long time, I had to make do with vastly inferior scrubbies. Heartbroken, I searched the world for the ones I liked…and found them at the Odd Lots store in Fitchburg. The day I found them I bought 12-15 of them at sixty-nine cents each. A bargain bag full of happiness.
Well, I put a new one in the sink the other day, and realized I only have two left. Plenty of time to replenish. I headed out to the Odd Lots store and….they don’t have them. None. Nada. Please oh Please tell me that I’ll be able to find a new source before I use up the one I just took out and the two under the sink. I figure that’s about 2 months or so worth of dishes, minimum. PLEASE TELL ME I’M NOT DOOMED!
Two Two Two Two Let’s Sing a Song of Two!
It’s two out right now. Two.
I’ll let that sink in.
With the wind (and trust me, it’s rocking the house) it’s probably about 700 below zero out there.
Oh, wait, I re-check and it’s 11, but with a windchill it feels like -2. Oy vey. This is the forecast: “Today: A mix of clouds and sun with gusty winds. Wind chills may approach -20F. High near 15F. Winds W at 25 to 35 mph.” I hate to turn this into “Jody’s Weather Blog” but some things just take over your life. I do have a question: the dew point is -9. Is that possible? So if it hits -9, what, we’ll get dew? Heh. I wanna see that. All the poets will write things like
And through the morning sunlight’s filter
a glist’ning on the world anew
settled the morning’s first dewy kiss
AHHHHH! FROSTBITE!! GET IT OFF!!!!!!
Last night we got home and Junior tripped and landed hands-first in a snow bank. He stood up and I saw that he didn’t have his mittens on (he ALWAYS takes them off in the car, and never remembers to put them back on) and I FREAKED OUT that he was standing in the below zero wind chill with wet hands. I’d get the Mom of the Year Award for sure. I’m screaming at him to hurry up and follow me to the house, where I’m fumbling with a purse, his backpack and an art project of his, trying to get the key in the lock. Sheesh. Luckily, I don’t think he understood that I was freaking out. I’m pretty sure he won’t need therapy. I can’t say the same for me.