New medical condition?

I think it’s because it’s digital, but my new TV (aka the thing that makes even soap operas look appealing because it has a pretty picture. Thank god I have a job) has a delay of a few seconds compared to the old TV.

Right now I’m in the dining room, which is in between the living room (land of the pretty pictures) and the kitchen (the room I want a permanent attendant for).

I don’t want to say the kitchen TV is old, but it is a Sony Watchman (made for about 2 years), which is a mini-black and white TV with a cassette player and am/fm radio.  We are all about cutting edge here.

Anyway, there is a delay of a couple of seconds on the pretty TV. Now you might be thinking: maybe it’s that the kitchen TV is ahead and not the living room, but this idiosyncrasy didn’t manifest until the Pretty Picture TV came along. Before, the old TVs both yelled at you simultaneously.

So I’m hearing 60 Minutes on both devices but the living room one repeats the kitchen one a couple of seconds later, just enough time to throw me off-kilter (don’t go there). It’s like a recurrent echo that only repeats once. Or someone repeating himself.

You wouldn’t think that hearing the same things a couple of seconds apart would be such a big deal, but I think I have indavertently discovered a new medical condition: auditory vertigo.

 

This just in!

I found the hair product! (Click here for background.)

It was in the basket in the lower right corner underneath the wire shelf. Use your imagination and you can almost see it in the photo.

It’s kind of ironic it’d be there, since that’s where I normally keep light bulbs, and without the hair product it looks like I stuck my finger in a light socket.

I still don’t understand how it got there.

 

Geezer Girl’s gig-alicious gadget of the day

The following should be read aloud in your best toothless old fart reliving days of yore voice.

Now back when I was a youngen this woulda been the size of a room and only Bill Gates coulda afforded it:

 

Of all the things I could complain about…

(and believe me when I say there are many things I could complain about right now) the thing that’s sticking in my craw (sp?) is that I can’t find my new bottle of Aveda Be Curly Curl Control.

If you’ve seen my hair without any product on it you’d run out yourself and buy me a bottle immediately. This hair has a mind of its own and I’ve learned to surrender by just buying expensive products,,,supporting my local small business getting the damn stuff ’cause it works.

Under the best of circumstances I have to pry my wallet open for these products and under-employment not being the best of circumstances, I was really glad to get a gift card at Xmas so I didn’t have to spend ~$20 on it (even though it lasts a long time, and all that horsesh*t they tell you when you’re bi*ching about the price at the register).

But now it’s gone and I am pretty peeved. It’s been sitting in my bathroom closet, which really looks like this most of the time, except there’s usually more dirty laundry and  I’ve finally installed the 2 hooks on the door after having them for 1+ year.

click the photo to help me find it

<Side note: It’s amazing what the procrastination of one task – writing meaningful cover letter #4445 – can make you finally UN-procrastinate – here, putting the hooks on the door. I’ve also procrastinated by wisely used my under-employment time to paint a chest of drawers, scan a ton of paper and promptly shred it (instead of letting it pile up and have the dog unpile it while playing with her toy as per usual), stripped 2 windows and primed them, infilled old holes and primed them, cleaned basement.

And let’s not even talk about how many times a day I check for my new TV’s price to magically decrease, compare costs of getting rid of landline, to change ISPs, to change cell phone plan to compensate for no landline, etc. My ability to procrastinate is at an all-time high. end of long side note>

Anyway, back to the whining at hand: I cannot find that damn bottle to save my soul. It used to be on the shelf where the ??? in the photo are. After ripping apart the closet twice, the only thing I can think of is that it bounced into the trash can somehow.

Sounds impossible doesn’t it? Nope. It’s not impossible. Stuff on the wire racks bounces around all the time. Add the Q-Tips box as a launch pad, and you can see the physics of it. I’ve witnessed it myself so I know it can happen.

So I’ve apparently thrown it away. Only this time I didn’t see it happen. Why can’t the stupid $3 laundry cleaner stick have bounced in instead? God knows I’ve seen that happen enough before. “Enough” is apparently the operative word here.

It just frosts my a** no end to go get another bottle, which I’ll procrastinate until the last minute too, of course, hoping the original will magically jump out of the landfill.

Unless you see it in the photo…let me know if you do, okay? Thanks.

And thanks for “listening” while I vented about yet another comparatively – unimportant – event – that’s – risen – to – crisis – level – in – my – mind.

 

‘Tis the season to buy elecTRONics, falalalalalalalala

Oh god it’s electronics season. Of course it’s always electronics season for some of us, but now it’s electronics season for everyone.  I’m in physical pain.

Any gadget geek knows you don’t buy electronics gadgets for others at Christmas time; you buy them for yourself as a “treat.”

Since I will be under-employed as of either Monday or the 23rd (you’d think I should know wouldn’t you?!) I can merely lust this year. It’s a test of strength too, let me tell you.

I was lusting for the Verizon Blackberry Storm because I want the touchscreen, the camera for its focal mechanism (auto focus not fixed focus), its bigger display, the GPS on demand, and (of course) for the phone. I didn’t like the mandatory data plan though. I really wouldn’t use it.

Now I hear that the phone sucks under-performs anyway so I’m glad I didn’t run out and get it, but there’s still the (Samsung?) Dare taunting me from Craigslist.

Then there’s the mp3 player. I just can’t make myself become a Pod-person, no matter how many raves it gets. It’s just so proprietary and expensive and blah blah blah. The only plusses it has are that it can play songs gap-lessly (like 2 concert songs without a pause in between).

And don’t get me going on the DTV – DVR saga. I was finally ready to sell myself to the devil (again) and buy a new tv (god it’s a freakin’ great picture) so I kept looking online, learning, comparing features, etc.

Or I did before the reality of  “no job in a sucky economy” really hit. Now I don’t even bother looking. It hurts, I tell you; it just physically hurts.

All those RSS gadget feeds unread, all that money unspent, all the efficiency un-gained, all the convenience un-had. Like I said, it physically hurts.

Call me shallow, materialistic and not satisfied with what I have, but it’s in my genes I tell you. I come by it rightly – just ask anyone on my father’s side of the family. They’re almost all afflicted this way too.

Ah well. What’re you gonna do? Everyone knows you can change your jeans but you can’t change your genes.

 

Guess what? I’m bi…

Yeah, it’s true: I’m bi.

Bi-focular, that is. (Yep, made up another word.)

After 6 years I could no longer avoid them, the b-fs that is. Before, I could just peek over or under my frames and see, but lately I’ve had to take off my glasses AND get close to see some things.

Like books. Reee reee reee — that’s when the alarm bells went off. That and too many headaches.

It was like 3rd grade all over again, only now I can’t see up close and I’m 45, not 10.

Other than that though, it’s just like 3rd grade:

• Even when wearing them, I can’t see yet. Everything around the edges is blurry and fish-eyed.
• I loved riding the RoundUp in 3rd grade. I feel like I’m riding the RoundUp now too. Unlike 3rd grade though, I now have recurring vertigo, so riding the RoundUp is not so appealing.
• Headaches indicate you need glasses, yet ironically, when you get the new glasses you may also get headaches until you’re “used” to them. Happened in 3rd grade when I got my 1st pair; happened now that I’ve gotten my first progressive lenses. Please note: I will no longer refer to them as “bi-focals” because that sounds — way older than 3rd grade.

The one big difference between now and 3rd grade though: When I was in 3rd grade, I wanted whatever my aunt, who is 4 years older than me, had.

So in 3rd grade, I got granny glasses, which were all the rage then (merely coincidental to the fact that my idol wore them).

Now, even though I’m told these “all the rage” (style-wise) (same with the last 2 pairs), I always (at first anyway) hate the frames I “decided” on, and I need a lot of reassurance and validation from others.

To give you an idea of how bad it is, I had to have one trip with my sister (4 if you count all the places we went) and one with my friend, and I got the optician’s advice and the doctor’s advice, and took pix with my phone’s camera (which, BTW, I’m told is NOT unusual for glasses-triers-onners).

Then (irony or subconscious choice? You be the judge) I think I ended up getting the one pair I vetoed when I looked through my phone pix. I can’t bear to rehash it all by looking through the pix because really, what would be the point? It’s too late now.

You can imagine how much the place I ended up buying them from was sooooooooooo glad to see me go. It’s a good thing I can make people laugh while they hate me.

But here’s the thing: I feel vulnerable when I get new glasses. I want to project a certain image: professional, yet kind of funky, chic, au courant AND halfway decent-looking. If you make a poor attempt for the same in undergarments, you can at least hide them. You can’t hide your glasses though.

Plus, unlike underwear, they’re so effing expensive that you can’t just go get another pair if you don’t like what you end up with. Hell, I’d easily have 50-60 pairs if that were the case.

So I’m just wearing them at home for now, until I get my non-roundup legs and no more headaches. Hopefully by then I’ll like them more too.

 

Things you’ll never see me in

Having proven long ago that I have no pride (or is it no shame?), I am revealing today 2 of my deepest shames, 2 items of clothing I cannot bear to get rid of.

I’ve already purged the jeans – that – were – faded -just – right* – and – had – holes – in – the – right – places – but – that – I – couldn’t -fit – an – arm – into – anymore.

I’ve purged the beloved overcoat with the zip-out liner but that had shoulder pads.

Dead tennis shoes I could garden in? Gone.

But these…these I can’t let go of and I don’t know why. I don’t think I’m sentimental over them…one I got at a thrift store in college, and the shirt was from an old boyfriend.

They were both used and old when I got them.

They’re certainly not “in style” (if they ever were).

I would never wear them in public unless I were – well, unless I had a fire in the middle of the night I guess.

They have holes, tears, paint stains, no elastic where they should and have faded immeasurably.

They are literally threadbare. And yet…

They are sooooo soft. I wear them for bed and feel like I’m all snuggly, even though they provide no insulation whatsoever. It’s a comfort thing, I guess.

I just can’t seem to get rid of them. I feel like Linus with his blanket…

The goods (the bads?)

Jersey from a b.f.; at least 20 years old

>

That’s my hand. And you can pretty much see thru it when there IS no light behind it…

>

Sweatshirt from a thrift store between 21 and 24 years ago…

>

It’s too thin for sweat to be absorbed into it…

*Yes, kids, when I was a youngen we used to actually buy new, blue blue jeans and allow them to fade naturally by washing them a lot.

 

A rose by any other name…

I was all excited about looking forward to wearing my new u-wear today. I got it on sale, it has no lines to show through, I needed more anyway, style is different, blah blah blah.

It’s a new style for me, the “boyshort.” I won’t go into my underwear preferences (yeah yeah, I know: “Why stop now Marie/y? You tell us every other TMI detail?”) <previous post about same>

(In hindsight, I think this was the style — and my body — that I saw in my mind’s eye when I bought them.)

So I wore them all day, no lines, they didn’t bunch, no belly over-rolls, I loved the color (dark brown). I couldn’t have been happier with them—until I got home, changed into my play clothes and caught myself in the mirror.

OMG they are granny garments. I looked like a freakin’ granny. Or a 10-year old with no taste. I was absolutely aPPALLED when I saw myself in the mirror.

(what I GOT, although the flat 18″-torsoed model makes them look acceptable here if not cute, and I didn’t buy white — borrring on pale caucasian skin)

The only difference between these and what I wore as a (not – too – hip – didn’t – have – a – say – in – the – purchase – anyway – they – just – magically – appeared – underwear) 10 year old was that my belly button showed more in these, these have a hell of lot more lycra, and I AM FAT now.

(I remember solid colored ones in this style.)

Holy crap! It’s a good thing I’m not dating anyone right now, ’cause one look at those bad boys and he’d be outta here. Have I sufficiently conveyed the degree of my shock and awe?! Reality was harsh. I don’t like harsh.

(I think this is really how they looked on me even though the 2nd ones shown are literally the same brand & style I bought)

In fairness to myself (lovingkindness, lovingkindness), if I still was built like my youngest sister they’d probably be cute, but as it is, I am either a 10-year old or a grandma — I’m not sure which. Why in the hell do I bother going to the gym if it’s all just gonna fall to my knees anyway?!

Between the “girls” and the rest of my torso falling I am just going to stop wearing a bra, go commando and start wearing a mumuu (sp?). I’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable and it’s not like you could tell the difference between my boobs and my thighs anyway, since I realized this evening that they kind of meet in the middle (i.e.-my gut).

No wonder women have lipo , boob lifts and tummy tucks?! It’s not so much about looking old. OK, who am I kidding? Of course it is, but really it’s more about: who the hell wants to look at the uni-torso in the mirror? ‘

Especially when you still feel so 18-year old on the inside — semi-cliché alert: (a) youth (ful body) is wasted on the young.

 

Is this a sign of personal evolution or just “make more spend more”? You be the judge.

I’m in a sentimental mood already. I had to go to the bowels of South City to St. Dinky’s credit union (only open 1 hour, 1 night a week) and get the money to pay off crazy tuckpointer. See < Rant >.

I won’t go into all the changes I’ve seen there over the years (some good, some bad). Those changes must seem even bigger through my parents’ eyes, since they grew up “down there,” but that’s really not what I intend to talk about tonight.

No, my sentimentality right now is being directed towards razors and shaving.

I finally cut sawed through opened my new “Soleil” (French for “sun”) razor system — and I do mean razor system.

The only reason I bought this new system in the first place was because it (and a separately-packaged cartridge of blades) cost less than the refill blades alone for my last “system” (not pictured).

Being in a sentimental mood I started thinking about how womens’ shaving habits have been forced to change have changed over the years. First, I had this. Just your basic plastic disposable — cheap enough for a kid to afford. Did the job but I didn’t have any expectations either. Just like the picture, it wasn’t too sharp.

But even at a young age I hated throwing the plastic away, so when I was out of college I upgraded to this. It was quite the step up because it had three blades, I only had to throw away the cartridge, which they made generics of, so it was cheaper than the name brand.

And it allegedly had a “moisturizing strip” oooh ahhh and the blades lasted forever. Sure I bled they scratched me sometimes, but there was nothing else available then. And I’m only talking 10 years ago, kids.

And then my friend Stacey started raving about her new Venus — the blades lasted “forever,” they moved to follow the curve of (say) your knee. Guys or non-converts: This means a closer shave and less cuts.

Fast-forward a few more years. Still frugal, still using the above razor. But then one day I couldn’t find my razor blades at Target or Walmart or Walgreen’s.

Then I noticed there was less of my good ole’ Barbisol shaving cream on the shelves and more froo-froo scented expensive creams that promised to do everything but do the shaving for you. I can still find my Barbisol but am sure it’s just a matter of time…
Well even I could see the writing on the wall: Just like “pantyhose” and sweatshirts, my old methods were going the way of the dodo bird. sigh

Time to adapt again. I hate that.

So I got some Venus-type “system” that did what it Stacey promised: it shaved closely to my “contours,” cut me less, the blades lasted longer. Bliss, I tell you, it was bliss.

And then, another adaptation. Truthfully I just got mad about paying so much for the damn refills, and the Soleil was on sale. So I got it and am finally just opening it. Here it is folks: The shower mount alone is gonna make it worth it.

Will keep you posted on whether or not it actually works as promised. Given the hype on the packaging I’m sure it will meet my every need.

 

Today’s cheap thrill

Today’s cheap thrill: New gym socks

I feel lighter! Stronger! Like the elastic is cutting off my circulation!

Even better, I now have 2 (that’s TWO!) styles to choose from: your classic tube sock style and your nouveau “no show” style.

<Age-inducing aside: Back when I was a youngin’ we used to call those “peds.” Don’t ask me why ’cause I don’t know. We just did. It’s comparable to the sweatshirt –> hoodie rename — nobody told me about that one beforehand either.>

 

Fangks Mawm end Dayad

Kin you tayell we are sisters? We hayad brasis but ar orthodontest wuuzn’t licinssd

 

Who was I kidding????!!!!

I really, truly thought I had largely overcome my lust for ‘lectronics, my salacity for software, my greed for gadgets. I decided that as fascinating and alluring as they are, I would own my objects and not let them own me.

This thinking was tested again when I recently tried out Verizon’s Navigator, a GPS-like service for your cell phone, and decided I wouldn’t “need” a GPS after all. Not only that but I’d be getting a new phone soon since my “new (phone) every 2 (years)” was due.

Getting the new cell phone with GPS would solve some practical problems (taking circuitous routes, getting another device to figure out and lug around, need for a cell phone), it wouldn’t cost a lot, and would be a new toy to play with. So I got it, committing myself to another 2 years with Verizon in the process.

Then…I saw my colleague’s i-Phone in action and a friend of the Man also showed me his (phone, you perv). Suddenly I “had to have” Verizon’s version of the i-Phone (since I’d just re-upped with them).

Suddenly my cool, new large screen, speakered, mp3-playable, QWERTY keyboarded, expandable memory card-able phone just didn’t seem sufficient.

Gadget envy set in in a big way and what I had just gotten wasn’t enough…ironic since my phone is the enV (pronounced “envy”) model.

So I tried finding another phone within my plan that was “better” and that I could justify and afford getting. But short of the i-Phone wannabe that cost way more than I could rationalize, this was the best phone I could get in my plan.

Acceptance…so I ordered a memory card for it as my consolation prize. The memory card stores music on your phone. Even though I don’t really even use my mp3 players.

But I figured I can also use the card for the phone’s 2 megapixel camera (with flash!) even if I don’t use it for music. I don’t use my real camera as much as I would like, either, but maybe if I had one with me all the time…It’s a lot easier to justify spending $17. than it is (at least) $400!

But if I had acted on this barely-contained lust and had no willpower I’d have

• a great stereo that was hooked up to a high-end flat screen tv, which had cable and connected to my large-capacity Tivo
• an iPhone (that didn’t take all year to figure out) onto which I had (easily) transferred my mp3s (that I actually played) and Verizon Navigator (which would negate the “need” for a GPS), a free data plan so I could afford to text , check email, surf at will, and had a normal ringer that I didn’t have to download and spend 4 hours configuring
• a D-SLR camera that was so incredibly usable that I would remember aperture settings vs. speed settings and not get bogged down by the math, and it’d have a supermicro lens and a fisheye lens so I could try every conceivable type of photographic technique.
• a wireless printer (or a wireless card for my current one—I like it just fine)
• I’d suck it up and buy the damn ScanSnap S510 even though I already have a scanner on my printer, because the ScanSnap S510 has an automatic document feeder that can scan duplex and would make all those piles of paper and receipts into a paperless, organized, searchable-PDF wonderland of filed-yet-accessible documents, and would organize my life once and for all.
• I’d have wireless speakers installed throughout the house so I can listen to NPR from ONE source, instead of turning on the radio in every room I go into.
• My kitchen, despite having wireless speakers, would have an under-the-counter tv/radio/cd player that tucked away conveniently when not in use.
• I’d have a flat panel tv in the bathroom too (hidden by a painting I could slide up when I needed the tv) over my fireplace in there. Near my wireless speakers in case I wanted to listen to the radio or music in the morning.

I don’t want to sound greedy so I’ll stop there.

You know, I really thought I was rockin’ when a former boyfriend installed a garage door opener and I didn’t have to get out of the car to put my car away. Then it was when I had a car that beeped when I left the lights on and electric windows and cruise control and a cd player.

I see now that this was just another part of my spiral into gadget whoredom, my never-ending craving for the new, the now, the wonder of “how do I conquer this device?,” the pleasure of the newness of it all.

It’s hard to be a geek in today’s world—so much to lust for, so knowing you’ll never have the fastest, the best, most ideal device, if this mythical device even exists…If I had all that stuff, I wouldn’t own my devices, though. They would own me.

It’s humbling to know that unless you want a huge credit card bill and a pile-o-devices you either don’t use, don’t have time to figure them all out or spend all your time troubleshooting that you have to know when enough is enough.

I think it’s also known as maturity or self-control or something.

 

 

Things you might not know unless I told you

I am a recovering:

*shoe whore

*gadget-getter

*”drown my sorrows in material goods” kind of person

*smoker (5 years, 27 days but who’s counting)

*stickler for a clean house (you’d never guess that now, would you?)

*overall perfectionist (no comment)

*Ted-Drewes-aholic (OK, who am I kidding?! That’s a bald-faced lie. I’m only “in recovery” because they’re closed for the season.)

*a dog-not-carer-abouter

The world not being an “all or nothing” kind of world, I have been more successful in “maintaining recovery” in some of the above than in others.

Gadget-getting is a prime example: I still have the same TV I bought in 1990 and I don’t have cable, but am about to get my 34th cell phone, have two mp3 players that I seldom use and will have a 3rd one when I get my cool new phone next week.

 

I hate shopping…no really.

I have avoided malls for the last several years (but ESPECIALLY at Christmas) by getting things online or buying at small local stores, Target being THE MAJOR exception.

“Shop” is not a verb to me, it’s a noun. I don’t shop—I go TO the shop. If I have to go to a store, I know where I’m going and what I’m getting. I get the hell in and get the hell out—no effing around.

At the end of December my uncle is getting married and I am sick of my wedding/funeral dress.

And I have this pair of shoes I love (did you know I am a recovering shoe whor*?), but I’ve only worn them once, to my sister’s wedding 2 years ago.

They’re too dressy for work and I don’t get out very much, so I haven’t worn them since Em’s wedding. Since my uncle’s wedding is a great reason (i.e.-the only reason I have) to wear them, I decided to find a new outfit to match them.

Well, I don’t know what the hell is up with me but I have made a few trips to department stores this week and bought:

• 3 bras (technically 4 but I’m returning 1) ←Brett, I know you’ll comment on that.
• 3 “shirts to work out in” <she says, sitting on her a** on gym night>
• 1 cotton taupe hoody & pants to work out in <see above>
• 1 “it’s just so cute and on sale and I must have it even though it’s basically the same as the previous outfit only the taupe is just a little darker and these are made of fuzzy warm velour” hoody & pants.
• 1 sweater that actually will be used and useful and was on major sale.
• And the coup de gras: a “I’ll wear this once a year at the most but when I need it I’ll really need it, I can rationalize it because I’ve had my old trench coat for ~20 years and I’m sick of it dammit, the price is reduced about 65%, it goes great with my ‘wedding shoes,‘ I love and must have it at any price“  brown dress coat <pictured>.

I might have to sleep in it to reduce the cost-per-wearing, and I need more brown like I need more weight, but there was just no question it was going home with me. And why can’t I be like this in other areas of my life?!But wait! There’s more! (or less, depending how you look at it)! Not only did I get all of the above, but I also looked at >1 store and didn’t find any, uh-nightwear, robe, jeans, a “practical coat I can wear every day to work but that’s not as heavy as my winter coat” coat, or socks.

I did not even look for Christmas presents for others.

Oh! And I almost forget to mention: I haven’t found anything to wear to the flippin’ wedding yet!

Seriously, though—I hate shopping.

<addendum 12/13/07> So much for the “cool factor”—Wore new sweater to work and had co-worker point out there was a tag on it still…

 

Today’s cheap thrillS

When you have more than one cheap thrill in any given day, it’s a good day.

#1: Grilled cheese sandwich made with (may my arteries forgive me) Velveeta Cheese. I accidentally bought 2 lbs. for Grandma N’s Spinach Casserole for turkey day. So I’m making a sandwich right now with some of the cheese. I suddenly crave Tomato Bisque Soup with basil on top like my mom used to make, but am happy with just my sammy. Oh sweet decadence…

This is not really my sandwich because I’m too lazy to photo it.

#2: New-warm-fuzzy-slippers-that-fit-me-and-that-I-like-even
-though-they-make-my -feet-look-like-gunboats-and-I-don’t
-usually-like-scuffs. I just found out they’re called “scuffs” so I feel like I should be wearing a “housecoat” or maybe a muumuu.

I never wear slippers except during winter. But I figured that I’d never wear them w/out socks anyway, so unless they fall off a lot I should stay warm. They couldn’t fall off any more frequently than my old ones.

Here’s a picture but don’t tell me what you think about them unless you like ‘em. I’m more fragile in the winter.

The pair I bought a year ago was WAY too big, they were always falling off, and they weren’t nearly as fuzzy warm inside like the new ones. Plus they’re way cheaper than the faux shearling coat I’m too cheap to buy.

I hate winter so I do whatever I “need” to get through it, and by golly my new $9.00 slippers might be the trick for this year. Well, that and a vacation in the Caribbean.