Personality

Time: Too Much, Not Enough

I don’t spend a lot of time on Pinterest because I don’t have the time to spend on Pinterest. But, I do visit every day and scroll a few scrolls through the new stuff and occasionally search for timely topics or topics of interest and scroll a few scrolls through those results.

I might share a few things or re-pin a few things and then I leave and never think of Pinterest again, until the next day when I do it all over again.

Today, I’m staring sullenly at Pinterest wondering why so many people seem to have so much time on their hands to do weird and wondrous things. And also wondering why I do not have so much time on my hands that I, too, can do weird and wondrous things.

I think I might be having a personal crisis of some sort.

Not to worry, it will pass.

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20-freaking-48

Elly is always playing some new game on her iPhone and I usually just ignore her. Oh sure, when she was little I installed jelly car for her (I blame Teddy for that) and let her play that on my phone but once she got her own iPhone (and iPad) I just rolled my eyes at whichever game she was currently fixated on.

But on Sunday, I got sucked into 2048 — regular version because the doge version she was playing just looked weird. I installed it on my own phone because watching her play was making me twitchy. She kept moving the tiles into the wrong damn place and while I might have let her play games on my phone, there’s no way in hell she’s gonna let me play games on hers.

So yea, I downloaded it.

And I cannot stop playing. It might be worse than Candy Crush. If I don’t get the damn 2048 tiles matched up soon, I’m going to have to remove the bloody game from my phone. It shouldn’t be that hard — it’s probably rigged.

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It Would Be Weird…

Our Dominicks’ grocery stores closed at the end of the year and since then grocery shopping has been a little… off.. around here. To make it better, we’ve gone to Tony’s Finer Foods a couple of times — which is nice, but we’re spending a lot more money than we used to spend.

I’ve been anxiously awaiting the opening of the Mariano’s in Northfield and the Heinen’s in Glenview because surely those stores will help me get back into a good grocery shopping routine. Hopefully.

The Mariano’s is opening on February 25th. We got a nice flyer with a coupon for free coffee and my first thought was… “Maybe I should take the day off and we can go to the grand opening!”

Which is weird, isn’t it. Much weirder than the people who stood in line for hours to get into a Trader Joe’s in Boulder last week (or was that just a couple of days ago.)

I’ve stood in line for weirder things — a four hour line for Burger King is the weirdest thing but this would definitely be weirder than that. Much weirder. Still, I’m tempted…

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I’m Weird Or I Just Follow Different People? Or Both?

Rita wrote this post, I Reject You, Higher Standards, and while I found it interesting — I cannot relate. At all.

I don’t find other people’s pins or Facebook status updates/shares to be stressful. I don’t find myself or my life to be lacking just because someone else posts photos of their beautiful, tidy house or smiling, happy teens.

Sure, I felt quite a lot of jealousy when the Almighty posted about going to Oahu and got a little teary-eyed when she mentioned she was going to the Windward Mall, (which is RIGHT NEAR WHERE JMP LIVES), but it wasn’t stressful. I didn’t begrudge her the awesome trip to Hawaii. I didn’t blame her or feel extra bad because I’m not in Hawaii right now (and don’t know when I’ll be there again.)

I admit to feeling a little grouchy, on occasion, when my southern friends and family post their wonderful sunshiney photos while I’m looking at 3+ feet of snow on my front porch but it doesn’t cause me to lose sleep or feel unhappy about visiting Facebook or Instagram. I love their photos. I want to see more of their photos.

I also don’t feel any overwhelming need to like or comment or share the things in my stream. If I see something I like, I “like” it. If I see something I feel like commenting on, I comment. If I see something I want to share, I share. I don’t worry that others in my stream are getting their feelings hurt because I’m not liking, commenting or sharing their stuff. Does that make me a bad person?

See what’s happening there? Rading Rita’s post makes me wonder if I am a bad person or lacking in some gene or another because I can’t relate to her post. (It’s not just Rita’s post, hers is just the most recent in a long line of “Pinterest makes me feel bad” type posts.)

Rita’s avoiding Facebook and I guess maybe I just need to avoid reading posts like hers, lest I begin to feel badly about myself for not feeling badly about myself because you all post about your awesomely amazing lives and I do not?

I’m weird, right?

Or, maybe Rita’s following some really exceptional people and I’m not… nah, y’all are all exceptional. I’m just weird.

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We Don’t Like Change, The Dogs and I

When Buster joined our family, it threw the Skeeter poodle into a tizzy. At night, when TW said “Off” and turned off the light, Skeeter poodle couldn’t figure out what to do because Buster butt was on HER bed by the door.

It didn’t matter that there was a perfectly nice dog bed by the bathroom door. That. Was. Her. Spot.

So I tried switching the dog beds. No go. She didn’t just want her spot or her bed, she wanted HER BED IN HER SPOT and Buster butt had somehow claimed that for himself.

Then we bought new dog beds on Black Friday because the dog beds we had were in BAD shape. I threw the old dog beds into the office and into the family room and TW carefully rearranged the bedroom furniture so that all dog beds were in one place and none of them were in Skeeter’s old spot by the door.

None of the dogs are thrilled with this. None of them want to sleep on the new fancy dog beds. I keep finding Skeeter laying on her old bed in the office (at least until we caught her tearing her old dog bed apart yesterday. Sigh.)

The only real success we’ve had with the new dog beds is the fancy pink dog bed for Lola’s crate. But even that hasn’t been foolproof. I put her old crate liners into Buster’s crate and every now and then Lola gets confused and tries to go into Buster’s crate because THAT IS WHERE HER (old) BED IS.

It’s all crazy making stuff around here, I swear.

But then again. I’m kind of the same way.

After sleeping on a mattress on the floor in SC for a year, I had a hard time adjusting to a real bed. (TW still teases me about complaining that the bed was too close to the ceiling.)

When TW makes me a new quilt, I long for my old quilt for weeks (months, even.)

Change sucks. Even if that change brings fancy new beds or quilts.

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Shopping with TW

When I go grocery shopping, I go in with a list and tend to only get the things on my list — or almost only the things on my list. I don’t go up and down every row (except at the commissary and even then I skip rows if I can skip rows that are side by side and still be going the RIGHT direction down the aisles… which is probably a post in itself. Remind me later.)

So I’ll be heading toward the next item on my list only to find TW stopped somewhere else, looking at something that was definitely not on my list. (Not that she always knows what’s on my list but that’s probably another post, too. Remind me of that, later, too.)

Sometimes she’s off looking at the clearance stuff at the grocery store — especially at Dominicks. And we quite often end up buying something she’s found in the clearance area of Dominicks. Sometimes those are winners, sometimes they aren’t.

Tonight’s pesto, over the butternut squash ravioli from Costco, was a big winner and I was reminded to be thankful that I grocery shop with TW the grocery store wanderer. If she hadn’t wandered, we’d have never discovered the Dorot pesto.

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Strong Enough

Today’s prompt for 28 Days of Celebrating Thanks is “A Time When You Were Strong” — oh boy. I’m reminded of why I never answered my own community building questions back in the old message board days.

Seriously though, I’m pretty emotionally strong and always have been. I’m good at grinding my way through and keeping a level head when people around me are falling apart and losing their shit. I’m not one to #catastrophize.

I’m thankful for that. Very, very thankful.

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I Quit You, Candy Crush! No, Really. I Did

Yep. I’ve pretty much quit Candy Crush. I log in every couple of days just to send people things they have asked for and I might play a couple of rounds but usually, I don’t even do that.

Considering how addicted I was to Candy Crush, it’s a little surprising that I quit so cold turkey.

Or maybe it’s not.

I reached a level that I could not beat. Not after game after game after game and hour after hour of trying. I didn’t even come close. That made it not fun anymore and just very frustrating and annoying. I don’t really enjoy being frustrated and annoyed, I have enough of that in my every day life — I don’t need it from a stupid game.

Even better — I’ve deleted the game from my iPhone. That means I’ve really quit Candy Crush because I’ve never played much on my laptop via Facebook (my computer doesn’t like it.) I’ll still log in and send y’all stuff, sometimes. I might not be addicted any longer, but I know a lot of you still are.

Have fun — I hope you never get stuck the way I got stuck.

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Ouch: On Crock-Pots, Band-Aids and Hyphens

It is still cheaper to buy a replacement crock for a crock-pot than it is to buy a new crock-pot. This disappoints, TW. I don’t know why since I like our crock-pot.

(I find it difficult to hyphenate crock-pot, don’t you?)

When you’ve sliced open a couple of finger tips on the crock-post stoneware, you should really put band-aids on them if you’re going to paint a couple of pages in your altered book. Or if you’re going to use gesso and chalk pastels in a couple of pages of your altered book. It kind of hurts to scrub the paint/chalk out of those cuts.

I should have listened to Ken Jennings when he said I should keep my cuts covered and moist rather than listening to TW (and my own hatred of band-aids.)

(Band-aid is another word I have trouble hyphenating.)

~~

If you broke the stoneware in your crock-pot, would you order a replacement stoneware or buy a new crock-pot?

If you cut a couple of fingers on the stoneware of your crock-post, how long would you leave band-aid(s) on the cut(s)?

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