Ha!

We had a couple of crafters at the strawberry festival give us a hard time because they didn't like their spots. They felt that people weren't buying because they didn't know that they were down a little aisle.
Believe me. There are no bad spots. The basket guy was on that aisle for 3 years and cleaned up each and every time.
There was one lady in particular - AKA: The Cookbook Lady - who gave me a hard time at the end of the second day.
She didn't like her spot.
She didn't sell enough cook books.
She wanted half her money back.
Ha! I think not!
She wanted MY volunteers (I don't have volunteers...) to stand at the end of the aisle and make people walk down there.
Ha! I think not!
Yesterday she called me. She tried to butter me up. It seems she wants to come back but wants a different space.
Ha! I think not!

The Jeans...

I chose some clothes to wear yesterday - out of the laundry basket. (They were clean and folded, just not put away yet... they still aren't put away...)

I chose a lovely turtleneck sweater and a pair of black jeans.

As I was mentally considering which necklace to wear with my outfit, I pulled the first leg of the jeans on. It grabbed my thigh and started to squeeze.
Hmm... how long did I leave these in the dryer?
As I pulled the second leg on, the squeezing started at my knee - I was losing circulation in my foot.
How can this be? I only ate one Kit-Kat on Sunday...
Gee... maybe I need to stop eating - like forever! These jeans fit last week...

I pulled them up - with a whole lot of wiggling and struggling. Heck, I broke a sweat!

Then attempted to button them.

I tried to stretch them out a little by bending and squatting. (Like that was going to work!)

Let's just say that there was no way that I could even THINK about buttoning them. The gap between the button and the hole was the size of the Grand Canyon!

Panic set in and I freaked out! OMG! I'm FAT! I'm never eating again!
Wait, what size are these?

I glanced down at the tag to discover - to my great relief - that the jeans did not belong to me - they belong to #1. My tall, skinny, teenaged son. Whew!!

I quickly released myself from the confines of those jeans. My feet returned to their normal pinky color - blue is so unattractive.

I breathed... deeply. Then I went and found some sweats and a fleece...

Bumper Cars

We drove to Montreal in our Civic.
Yes, it is small - especially our 6 foot tall #1 - but it gets 40 miles to the gallon.

It was 11 hours to the border...
When we arrived at the border the line was long - 1/4 of a mile long.
We knew it would be a long wait, but we thought at 20 seconds per car, we'd be out of there in an hour.

We turned off the air conditioner and opened the windows and sunroof.
It was a beautiful sunny and almost cool day.
The cars around us were all from Quebec.

The car in front of us was a Toyota Matrix with Quebec plates. It was brand spanking new. Very pretty, actually.

The driver of that Matrix was one who allowed her car to roll back before she went forward. Mr. took notice of that nasty habit and left her plenty of room. We figured it must be a stick shift and since the border crossing is on a slight incline... well, whatever.

We had been stopped for a while. Our Civic is a stick shift and Mr's clutch foot was getting tired, so he put our car in neutral and pulled the emergency brake to hold us still. This was the smartest thing he could have done.

We watched the Matrix roll back oh so slowly.
We expected it to then roll forward.
It kept coming - ever so slowly.
Mr. beeped gently.
Mr. beep beep beeped again.
And again..
And again..
And then... bump.

She rolled into us.
We motioned to her that she hit us.
She pulled forward.
She got out.
She inspected her car.
She said to Mr., "You are really lucky" in her Montreal accent and her way too tight jeans.
Mr replied, "Lucky? You are the lucky one! You rolled into us! That's why I was beeping."
"Oh! I did? I'm really sorry! I think I have been waiting too long."
(Yes, it was a long wait we'd been there an hour and then some, but does that give you permission to not pay attention?)
She hopped back into her Matrix totally embarrassed.
(Personally, I would have been more embarrassed by the tightness of the jeans than the bumper bumping.)
We gave her even more space as we crept towards the border crossing.
She rolled a couple more times, but caught herself.
After each roll, she glanced in the mirror and there I was looking at her smiling and shaking my head.

Note: Do not arrive at the border at 4pm when the border guards are taking 3 min. per car. Do not stay behind a silver Matrix with Quebec plates. She has a brake pedal, but she forgets how to use it - frequently.

Whew!!!

About 3 weeks ago, I woke up with a start.
"Where are LLB's pearls?" was the thought that ran through my head.

Now I know that most 13 year old girls don't have "nice" pearls, but LLB has a beautiful strand of Akoya pearls that my parents bought for her when she was very little. They are the most gorgeous color I call just pink. There is a long story about why she got this strand so young, but suffice it to say, the kid is totally spoiled by her grandmother and that, my friends, is a very very good thing.

So, back to my harrowing ordeal.

I leaped out of bed and got out the box that holds her strand of pearls and mine. I opened the case and mine were right on top, where they usually are. I flipped open the flaps to reveal -

nothing.

(The case has a two ribbon snaps that hold the pearls in the case and I usually use both snaps to hold her pearls in there. Mine sit on top of the satin flaps to keep the strands from rubbing together.)

I freaked! OMG! Where are they?

I am so careful with these pearls. I always put them right back when she's done wearing them...

I ripped her room apart. Fortunately, I had planned to do this anyway since she was off at camp. I cleaned shelves that hadn't been touched in years. I went through her coats. I went through her drawers.

Nothing.

I went through my closet. I cleaned every shelf. I went through every pocket. I cleaned out my dresser. Maybe I'd put them in a drawer in a moment of stupidity. I went through the hope chest... Now I KNEW I would never put them in there, but you know, just in case.

Yesterday, I decided that I had been through this house from top to bottom. Maybe those pearls had fallen out of the box in the place where I keep them. I thought I'd go through that entire place. That's all I had left.

I opened the box.
I held my breath.
I opened the case.
There were my pearls.
This is good. I haven't lost two sets now.
I lifted the flaps - both of them.
There they were.
Her pearls were put away exactly where they should have been.
They were only attached with one snap.
The other must have let go.
I obviously didn't check very well the first time. I'm sure my panic and total freaking out had something to do with that.

I heaved a HUGE sigh of relief and said a quick prayer of thanks.

I have two things to celebrate. My house is clean and LLB's pearls are safe and sound. Whew!

Venting 101

So - if you don't want to hear me whine or complain, here is your out. Move on and don't read. I know there is suffering and other huge nasty things going on in the world, but - It's my blog and I'll squawk if I want to.

It all started at 8:30 yesterday morning.
I got a call from the car rental place asking when I was going to return the rental car. I told her that as soon as I had my car back, I'd be happy to return it, but that I hadn't heard from the fix-it shop.
"Oh, your car was done late Wednesday. The insurance company stopped paying for your rental on Thursday."
"What?!?!"
The conversation continued.
I hung up and immediately called the fix-it.
They told me they would handle the car rental since I never got a call.
I left and picked up my sweet marshmallow.

I stopped to fill the rental with gas and my marshmallow needed gas as well. I charged the first tank. I handed the charge card to my dad to swipe to fill the CRV. It was denied. Excuse me? I have enough credit to purchase a car on that thing - full price. I pay my bill in full.

I called the card company. Oh... nope. We didn't deny you. You are all set - it must have been that the first charge wasn't completed before the second one started. Please continue on and go shopping. Grr....

Fast forward to 5:25pm.
I'm on my way to bell rehearsal. I have to pick up a member of the choir.
My "check engine" light goes on.
The engine coughs.
I pull over.
Mr. is on his way to swap cars.
The temperature gauge goes up and up and up.
I turn off the car.

Deliver me from this nightmare! I don't DO cars that don't work.

Fast forward to 7:30pm
Mr. gets a call from the doctor's office that says LLB has strep. Remember when we had that test done 2 WEEKS AGO?? OMG! I'm furious.
Mr. is upset because he can't answer the questions that the nurse asked him. He's thoroughly embarrassed. (Although, I don't know why because most fathers don't know those answers. My dad never did... still doesn't!!)
I get home and call the Doc's office emergency number and tell them what I know. That I'm frustrated and confused. I couldn't get an answer two weeks ago and I still really don't know what is going on.
The head Doc, who I trust and like, called me back - twice. He ordered her some augmentin and promised to get to the bottom of it. We'll see...

#1 is playing in the pit orchestra for the high school musical. He asked me to get there at 9 so he could go home early. He was released at 10:10. I still had to stop and get LLB's medication. Yes... it was a late night.

Now this morning...
I have to take my marshmallow to the dealer to figure out what is going on. I have a 1:30 appointment. I think I'll leave at noon just to make sure I have time to break down and still get there.

So... if I'm testy or cranky today - now you know why.

Revolving Cat Doors

We have two cats.
The mini kitty still thinks she's a dog. She wags her tail.
(No, our dog does not have a tail. I have no idea where she learned that trick!)
The cats like to go outside.
Not to run and be free.
Not to chase bugs or blowing leaves or other creepy crawly things.
They like to go out, because when they come in, they think the "food fairy" will have left them a full bowl.
Silly kitties.
The "food fairy" only comes twice a day.
So, they ask go out - okay, umm ask is putting it nicely. They whine until we can't take it and we throw (umm I mean let) them out.
They sit on the deck for 30 seconds. We've timed them. (Yes, we need a life!)
Then they scratch at or climb the french door and whine until we open it.
Once the door is open, they run in and jump up to their food bowl.
It is still empty. It is not dinner time. They already had breakfast...
Darned food fairy didn't show up again?! You should see the dirty looks we get!!
Then the whole thing starts over.
Once in a while, they figure out that the "food fairy" is not delivering. They turn to other forms of torture:
They curl up on my desk. They make room for themselves by pushing my stuff off of my desk. Yes, that is extremely helpful.
They walk on the counter and across Mr.'s keyboard... another very helpful thing that is not at all appreciated.
They taunt the dog.
They taunt the children.
Then they ask to go out.
History repeats itself... over and over and over.. all day long.
Anyone need a tail wagging, door climbing, dog taunting cat?

Ballet Lady VS Mercedes Woman

You all know that I volunteer to do the Ballet Lady's billing. Why did I volunteer to do that? I don't remember... I think don't think I had quite turned my brain to the on position when I agreed to do it.

We have a tuition fee scale that is lower than any around. We have a costume rental fee of $30 per performance regardless of the number of dances the child does. Basically, it is a very reasonably priced extra-curricular activity for the children.

That said, there are people who don't pay. I have a few favorite anectdotes, but this one is my all time favorite:

A lady (who drives a Mercedes and whose older kid drives a BMW) showed up one day with the teen-aged daughter who takes ballet, jazz, and musical theater. We never see this woman, as someone else usually does the pickup and drop off. MW is dressed to the 9's, wears expensive perfume, and carries a very expensive purse. She proceeds to tell Ballet Lady that she cannot pay for lessons and that her daughter needs a scholarship.

(I almost fell off my chair. I'm sure my chin hit the desk. Somehow I managed to keep my butt firmly planted and my mouth shut. I focused my eyes on the screen in front of me and turned my ears to the conversation... Hey, I'm nosy!)

Ballet Lady - who has yet to get a paycheck in the 3 years she's been in business - tells Mercedes Woman that this is not possible. She explains that we are a non-profit venture and any scholarship applications must be brought to the Board of Directors in June for the following school year. Then if the Board determines we have some spare money, an audition with an impartial ballet teacher (from another studio or the Cecchetti Council) is necessary and there are still no guarantees. The Mercedes Woman is furious!

(Excuse me? Lady, tuition is less than $100 a month for all those classes! Besides, your kid is not the next Gelsey Kirkland! Sell your purse on ebay and you can pay the tuition for the year.)

Mercedes Woman decides to take a different tack. She tells Ballet Lady that she wants her kid to work in the office so she can get a discount.

(LOL!! Silly woman! I don't let any kid who is not at least a senior in high school sit at my desk. Your daughter is the most irresponsible twit I have ever met. She will NEVER be sitting at my desk, Honey!)

Ballet Lady tells her that she has all the staff she needs.

(thankyouverymuch! Neener neener neeener!! Thhhhpt!!)

Mercedes Woman is in a snit and a half!! She's huffing and puffing and trying to bully her way into free dance lessons. Ballet Lady calmly tells MW that she needs to pay the tuition or the girl cannot dance. MW huffs her way out the door. If she huffed any more, she would have sucked all the oxygen out of the room!!

(Take that you big bully!)

The ballet lady flopped into a chair and heaved a sigh. This stuff takes a lot out of her. Needless to say, the girl walked in with a check at the next lesson.

Dorkus Maximus

I'm such a dork.
There is no other way to describe this one.
I have a wicked cold. All I want to do is curl up on my couch and watch TV through my closed eyelids. This is what I did yesterday morning... It was lovely.
At 1:55 pm, I hauled my sorry butt up to the shower.
At 2:20, I was dressed and in the car. I headed off to school.
At 2:35, I arrived at school to an empty parking lot.
Yes, my friends, my school is on vacation until Monday. I should have known that rich people would insist that they have the extra three days off to stay in Europe or Utah or wherever they might go to ski.
Why would I even think that they would be on the same schedule as the public school system?
Simple... Because I'm a dork who didn't bother to check the schedule.

Resolution #1 for 2008 - Check the schedule.

A New Look

Not that I wanted one... I was happy with what I had, but it seems that my template that Denise had done for me was shafted by Photobucket. It appears that they have dumped her pretty pictures that she made just for me.
Alas, I will eventually get over the trauma of it all.

I spent much of the evening fighting with Booger trying to load all the goodies I used to have. Booger is a pain in the patootie! It doesn't like this code... it needs a parameter... it needs something else... I'm not a codie!! I don't want to be a codie!

So - this is as far as I got. My TT blogroll is gone. My regular blogroll is gone! I'm just furious and frustrated and thoroughly annoyed.

Fortunately, I read most everyone on my google reader, but still... there were a few that the reader wouldn't pick up. URGH!!

I have a web page design program thingy on my computer... I may just have to design a whole new page. For now - enjoy this little ditty and bear with me, k?

Phew... I'm glad that's over!!

What a weekend!
The Nutcracker went off without a hitch - all 4 performances this weekend. The kids did great and I took almost 300 pictures. Yup. I'm glad I have that digital camera!! Now all I have to do is upload them... That ought to take me about a week.

I did a photo fund raiser for the ballet studio and the pictures came in. They are so cute! I am pretty proud of myself... I told the parents that I would try to get them in for Christmas - some cared... some did not.

Anyway, I called the parents who wanted their pictures for Christmas. Most people were gracious and kind and accomodating. But, as you know there is always one... This lady returned my call yesterday and yelled at me for not using her new phone number. I told her that I used the number in the phone book and that I was calling her from my home and not the ballet studio. (Geez, excuuuuse me for trying!)
I told her that I was going into town later that day and that I could meet her at the studio to give her the pictures.
"No, I don't want to do that. I was already out today." (Like I wasn't...)
"Hmmm... okay. I teach at the school over there, I can tape the envelope to the back door of the studio and you can pick it up at your leisure."
"No... I don't go there unless I have to. Can you bring them to my house?"
"Ummm... no."
"Why don't you just mail them to me. That's better for me."
"I'm concerned that they will get bent. I don't have the right kind of cardboard." (I would have used the envelope in which they were shipped to me, but I need to send something back.)
"Just mail them. I'll pay your postage."
"Fine. I'll do that."
Then she told me her address and hung up. No thank you. No nothing.
Bah humbug to her!

People like that ruin it for the rest of them...

Identity Theft Continued

The saga continues...

#1 brought his lunch to school every day except Friday last week. When he went out the door, I told him to bring his ID with him to lunch because they were going to ask for it.

He arrived at the cafeteria, went through the line, got to the checkout station and they did NOT ask for ID. He was a little disappointed...

I called the School Nutrition office on Monday. The lady told me that he purchased lunch on Friday. Yes... that is correct. Then she told me that he purchased lunch on Monday. I told her he did not. He carried his lunch on Monday and he has 4th lunch. I also told her that they did not ask for ID on Friday. The lady told me she'd get back to me.

She called me back. She was upset. (I don't know why she was so upset -- it is MY money!) The cafeteria ladies had the perpetrator in their grasp and he got away! The kid did NOT have his ID and feigned confusion. They took him to a teacher/administrator to be identified. The kid bold faced lied and told the administrator that he was #1. The administrator obviously does not know #1 or this kid. He let the kid buy lunch. The way it is supposed to work is that if the administrator does not know a kid, he is supposed to look him up - you know... find his picture. The Cafeteria lady is mad now - she was snowed by a snot nosed kid!

So... here we are... another $5 down. All I know is that they had better catch that kid soon. I want my money back!!

I told #1 to go to the cafeteria this morning and find the lady in charge. I told him to very politely introduce himself so they know what he looks like. This whole thing is crazy!!!

My poor #1 - 9th grade and he's already had his identity stolen. What else is this sneaky thief going to steal? #1's SAT scores??
GRRRR!!!

Identity Theft

I can't stand people who steal lunch money.
I really can't stand people who steal my lunch money.
A tough girl tried to steal my lunch money on my first day in 7th grade, but Lucy Iocco told her to leave me alone. Lucy, who I didn't even know before that moment, has always had a very special place in my heart.

I need Lucy back!

#1 is in high school. He brings his lunch 4 days and buys on Friday. I fill his account with my credit card through Lunch Money dot com. The kids purchase their lunch by typing in their student ID numbers into this computer thingy and the money is deducted from their accounts.

That sounds lovely until someone uses $100+ of my money to purchase breakfast and 3 lunches a day for 10 days. That someone wasn't my #1. My #1 eats his lunch - that he brought from home - real quick and goes to the library. He also has lunch during 4th lunch, not first lunch. Some little thug was using his number during 1st lunch and again at the end of 4th lunch. Why wasn't said thug in class?

This Wednesday was #1's birthday. He asked to buy lunch that day and I let him. They asked for his ID. How do I know this? He mentioned it when he got in the car that afternoon. They have never asked for his ID before.

It seems they may have suddenly realized that his number was being used more than once on Wednesday. Hmmm.. aren't they supposed to show ID every time they make a purchase?? Where were they the other 10 days??

I caught the charge to my account on Wednesday night when another $50 charge popped up. He hadn't even purchased 2 lunches yet!! I called School Nutrition on Thursday. They put a flag on the account to ask for ID. Gee.. Thanks, but it's a little late now, don't cha think?

School Nutrition sent me a copy of all the charges on the account. The first 3 weeks of school were correct. Lunch on Fridays. The paper shows that I filled the account in October and BOOM! All heck broke loose. Some kid was mighty hungry... This kid was eating a huge breakfast every morning. And then 3 lunches every day with extra desserts and fries.

We have spoken with #1. He has no idea who might have his number. But, he has decided to bring his lunch until it is all squared away. As of yesterday, there have been no more charges.

I am hoping to get my money back. I'll let you know how it goes. But, right now, I'm not happy.

Some People...

I went to a band competition to see #1 march. They did well and the show was terrific. I'll tell you all about it when I get the pix uploaded.

I was leaving - along with a gazillion other people. I was stopped behind one lady and there was another behind me -- this is what happens when a gazillion people try to leave a parking lot all at the same time. There is a group of cars on the way in for the next group of competitions. This woman in a blue car with Maryland plates pulls up. I hope she's reading!!! She is perpendicular to me. She wants an open spot that she can't get to because I am in the way.

I open my window to tell her that there are tons of great spots right by the gate if she just keeps going. This particular spot is at least 1/4 mile away from the gate. She tells me she wants that one. I explain - very nicely - that there are great spots right next to the gate and that she really should keep going.

She yells, "I want THAT spot!"

I can't back up. I can't pull forward. The lady has two choices here -- wait for the traffic to move or continue on towards the gate and the better parking spots. I roll up my window. There is nothing more to say.

She flips me the bird and drives away! She gave me the finger!!! This is a band parent, people!!! I told Grambug, "I hope she finds a terrific spot right next to the gate and then feels bad about what she did."

So - if you know a woman with no class who drives a blue car with Maryland plates and who went to a band competition in Herndon yesterday - tell her I said to have a nice day and that I hope she enjoyed that great spot next to the gate I told her about! Oh, and you could tell her that band people don't give other band people the finger.

Now we know why some people's kids are the way they are.

Crushed...

She's going to be crushed.
LLB wanted to march with the 8th graders on Friday when they go to the High School to march with the Band. The HS band director emailed me today and told me she couldn't participate because she's a 7th grader.

It seems totally stupid. You want the kids to want to join marching band. If you have a younger one who can actually play AND is interested, why tell them No? Next year she might think twice and change her mind.

It's left a little bit of a bitter taste for me, too. Probably because I'm the one that has to tell her that she can't do it. She won't get upset, but I know it's going to sting.

Stupid People Tricks

Some people are just plain old stupid.

Like a lady who lives in our development. She is FEEDING the BEARS! What turnip truck did she just fall off? Everyone knows you don't feed the bears! Doesn't she watch the news or Animal Planet? We all know that if one of these six - yes you read correctly - 6 bears ends up in her house eating her food, using her phone or sleeping in her bed, they are going to blame it on the bear. I'm sure it will have nothing to do with her feeding them -- daily.

The bears around here are not Yogi and Booboo! They aren't Smokey or Gentle Ben! They are real - 100% - black bears. We've seen the teenaged bear on our street. He's not afraid of people. Heck, he's not afraid of cars, either!!

So do me a favor - don't feed the bears, k?

Grrrr

UPDATE AT BOTTOM!!

My children are both musicians. They are both required to have Smartmusic. This, in itself is fine. The cost is relatively reasonable - $25 per year.

Fast forward... I order the software.
I discover that since I have a Mac, I need the microphone and USB cable. So much for $25...
The total comes to $75.

Fast forward... the software arrives.
I open it and try to install.
What happens?
NOTHING. Absolutely nothing.
I do a little research.
It seems my sweet Mac has OS 10.3.9
Smartmusic only works on 10.4 or higher.

I'm ready to lose it. This just isn't fair!
I need another $129 to upgrade my OS to 10.4

Basically this sux... it sucks dollars out of my already moth infested wallet...

What have I done about it besides whine to all of you?
I emailed Smartmusic and told them I'd like an older version... One that works with my OS 10.3.9. Think they might give it to me?

UPDATE: Smartmusic was wonderful! They are sending me the older version!! Yippeee!!!!

Kvetchin'

This is my blog. I can kvetch if I want to...
Catchy tune, that is...

I don't DO change well. I deal, but I don't like it. So, when things change - like my kid is on a bus at 6:30am and school starts at 7:30... I don't like it. I also don't like crazy teachers. I am a teacher. I can say this. I guess I don't like a lot of things...

High school is hard -- hard for me. I feel out of the loop. (Probably because I am.)

The science teacher is new to the system and is a nut. She doesn't use the book. She is vague. Where do they find these people?? #1 had a test yesterday and he came home very upset. He said he didn't understand half of what she wanted on the test. I'm hoping he guessed well.

We don't have a science fair at the high school - probably because we are on block scheduling, but that doesn't matter to this woman. During "Meet the Teacher Night", she told the kids to pick a topic that they are passionate about for a science fair project. #1 looked at me with that "OMG What the h*ll am I gonna do?" look. I wanted to puke! I don't think well out of the box. Give me a topic and I'll do it, but make me think of one on my own and I'm sunk. I wonder where he gets it?? During Sunday dinner we tossed out ideas. He picked a subject near and dear to each and every the member of this household. Toilet paper. Which toilet paper biodegrades the fastest? I'll let you all know how it turns out. I'm sure you all want to know if Charmin is as good as they claim.

LLB got switched into another reading class. Yes - more change. She had this class originally and then they switched her back. This is a flip flop in 2 weeks. She likes this teacher much better - as do I. My only fear is that they will move her again. Her little heart will be broken if they take her from this wonderful woman. She's had quite a time with a couple of other things -- her gym tennies were taken out of her locker and she had to sit out PE on Monday. She was totally distressed. Then someone stole her Lands' End lunch box out of a classroom. It is pink and has her initials on it. Mr. thinks a boy took it. I think any boy that takes a pink lunch box with LLB's initials on it needs glasses AND medication. She'll be checking out everyone's lunch box until she finds it!

On top of all this, my LLB has a wicked cough. I'm calling the doctor today. She's been dealing with this for a week now. Why didn't I call sooner? Because they think I don't know my kid. They think they know my kid better than I do. They'll tell me she has a virus. If I go earlier, they give her robitussin and send her home. Then, I wait a few more days and have to go back to get the real drugs.

This is my first week of school with my music kids. I only see them twice a week for 40 min. a class. Guess what? They don't have class on Monday. It's some stupid "class day" for them. There are many of these days this fall. I think the school doesn't want to pay us so they invent these "class days" and tell us not to show up. My kids have to be ready for the youth festival in November, a Christmas performance in early December, and a concert right before vacation. Do you see a problem with this picture? I will not allow them to play crappy music -- especially for their parents who pay an inordinate sum of cash to send them to this school.

On the bright side -- I don't have to go to school on Monday.

I think I have whined enough for today...

Ding Dong Dirty!

I hate stupid people and I hate people who touch my stuff without asking.

Today was the first day of class for my handbell students. I arrived early and hauled the bells out of the closet. The closet was not as we had left it in June. I was NOT happy. I pack that closet a certain way to make sure everything fits correctly and nothing will attack when the door is opened.

Those bells -- They gained the 10 lbs I've been trying to lose... I swear they weren't this heavy when I put them in the closet in June.

I loaded them on the elevator and sent them up a level.

We unloaded the elevator and slid them into the classroom.
I opened the cases - I know why they weigh more.. they are totally tarnished! Someone used them and didn't polish them when they put them away. I am furious!! Okay, I am beyond furious!!!

The kids and I tried to clean them up a little before we put them away, but we didn't have enough polishing cloths. We will do some on Wednesday... Instead of getting more playing time, the kids now have to spend time polishing. It really isn't fair!

I am going to hunt down the culprit and if I find out who made a mess of my bells, they will be polishing each and every one of those little bronze beauties... with their tongues! Okay so maybe not with their tongues, but you get my drift...

Why can't people just leave my stuff alone?

Please don't share...

The Bug Family was having dinner at our local burger joint. The air conditioning wasn't working inside, so we were outside at the picnic tables enjoying the cool breeze.

We were just about finished when a relatively new silver car pulled into the grocery store parking lot about fifty yards away. The guy got out. He was tall - I mean really tall - and bald. He opened his passenger side door and proceeded to blast his radio. Let me just say that his tunes weren't offensive, but they sure were loud. The guy walked around, smoked his cigarette, and then sat in the passenger seat.

We watched... we waited...
Is this a new trend?
Nobody else was doing it.
Was the guy famous and we didn't know it?
Why would you only open the passenger side door?
Maybe because that's the door that is closest to the burger joint?
Why would you park in the grocery store lot and blast your music?
Grambug thinks he wanted to share his music with all of us.
I'd rather he didn't...

Picture This

I toss the clothes from the washer into the empty dryer.
I set the time and push the button.
Every other time I push the button the dryer starts up and runs.
This time it makes an grinding noise and doesn't run.
I, of course, run to find the Mr. Fixit of the family, the Guru of all things mechanical - Grandpa.
He comes to look at my lint trap. It's the kind that bends down the back of the dryer - the most unaccessible item around.
We push the screen back it and it catches on something.
We push the screen back again and it goes right in.
We pull the dryer out and it detaches itself from the vent tube in the back.
I feel around in there and there is nothing.
I shove the cleaning brush Grandpa has whipped out of nowhere in the vent.
Nothing.
We decide to turn it on and see if it just might run.
Amazingly it runs.
Then it coughs up a pencil.
The pencil comes shooting out the now unconnected vent like a missile.
I'm guessing the dryer didn't like that flavor pencil. It was a yellow #2.
I now have to reconnect the dryer to the vent.
This sounds like a relatively simple task.
It should be.

Before I go any further, I should describe my laundry room.
My washer and dryer are in an alcove in my 1/2 bathroom. There is about 2 inches of clearance between the side of the machines and the walls.
I have a shelf above the washer and dryer to hold the laundry detergent, bleach, dryer sheets and stuff.

I pull the dryer back towards the back wall and the vent tube.
I stretch the tube. It does not reach.
I pull the dryer back some more.
I'm relatively thin, but I have pulled the dryer back so far that I can't turn my body so I bend over or squat to connect the tube.
I begin to sweat... there is very little room, no circulation, and now I'm totally stuck.
I force myself between the wall and the dryer and after what feels like 25 million tries, I connect the tube.
I fumble for the screwdriver to tighten the clamp.
The tube falls off.
I come up for air.
Grandpa tells me my face is red.
Really? Thanks!!
I try again.
This time it only takes about 10 times to get the tube on and 5 tries to tighten the clamp. Did you know the screwdriver works best when the tip is connected with the divets in the screw head?
I come up for the last time.
I am a total dribble of sweat. I am also covered with lint.
Yes, I am simply gorgeous!
Now I attempt to extricate myself from behind the machine.
I try to squeeze myself out the side.
I DO NOT fit!
I push the washer all the way to the wall and gain about 1/4 of an inch.
I still do not fit.
The only way out is over the top.
Are you kidding me??
Climb out?
I start to giggle...
Grandpa chuckles.
I laugh harder.
I hike my leg up there and realize you can't laugh and climb.
I concentrate.
I push with all my might while trying desperately not to knock myself unconscious or give myself a concussion on the shelf that is now fractions of an inch above my tucked head. If I were a turtle, I would have pulled my head in, but since I am not, all I could do was hunch and keep it down.
I get the other leg up and realize that if I sit on the top of the dryer it will be have the imprint of my oh so gorgeous rear end on it for an eternity.
I hover.
I don't do yoga. I don't fold. I don't do contortions.
I fold myself in two and lurch off the top.
Somehow, I didn't kill myself, break the sink, imprint the dryer, or end up on my butt. I landed squarely on my feet. That's a first!!

Note to self...
1. get the pencil dusted for prints and make them pay!
2. get a longer dryer tube.