Tuesday, January 27, 2015

It's a Process

I have begun writing shopping lists on envelopes that I cut open and flatten out. My transformation to little old lady will be complete when I start carrying a fat coin purse around and hold up the checkout line by insisting on digging around in it and paying with exact change. The next stage would be obtaining a Sophia purse. Then have it with me at all times. Did she sleep with it, too?

Mine Doesn't Sparkle


I've been carrying one around in my purse for the last two days.

La Luna!



Monday, January 26, 2015

Too Old for the Tooth Fairy

Most of the time I have not a smidgen of awareness that I have four porcelain crowns residing in my mouth. They rarely call attention to themselves. The first one came along in the mid-nineties and was followed by the other three at approximately three year intervals, the fourth one arriving about ten years ago. One in each quadrant. In Dentalese, they occupy positions 3, 14, 17, and 30. They get along well with my natural teeth and function like them. Which is how it's supposed to be. Until yesterday afternoon when, for no apparent reason like chewing a huge wad of sticky bubblegum or deliberately poking around in my mouth with metal prying tools, #17 came off its mooring. For a moment I thought, why am I rolling a small marble around in my mouth? as I became aware of a slightly metallic taste. No. It's not a marble! It's one of my crowns! Holy shit! Fortunately I neither bit down on it nor did I swallow it. Tomorrow afternoon I'm going in to have it cemented back in place. Meanwhile, I'm chewing on the right and avoiding getting cold liquids on the left. I won't make the mistake of putting it under my pillow or in a dish of salt water on the kitchen counter. It is safely wrapped in a tissue in my purse. If the tooth fairy does happen to get her little paws on it, all I have to say is, she owes me about two thousand bucks.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

It Also Contains The Furnace and Water Softener, But We Affectionately Refer to it as The Laundry Room

My laundry room is totally discombobulated. Just over a week ago I was cleaning in there. Disassembling a rickety old cabinet and hauling the parts out to the trash. Two pieces are too large for the garbage bin and will have to wait for the April clean-up. Until then, they will hang out in the garage. Once the cabinet was out I started thinking. Dangerous, I know. Pondering about when was the last time this room had a fresh coat of paint. It occurred to me that I had never painted this room! I have painted every room in this house at least three times (and the exterior twice before we installed color-loc siding) but somehow the laundry room always was passed by! There is an extremely faded and funky looking single coat of paint in there that was originally something akin to white. And in the interest of sprucing up all the corners of the house in preparation to putting it on the market, a plot began to brew in the darkest reaches of my brain. A faint, squeaky voice percolated up to my conscious mind. Paint the laundry room, Carla! Do it! Paint the laundry room! It will never be beautiful but it could be neat and bright and clean! Against better judgement I heeded this voice. Which is why discombobulation currently reigns in the laundry room. Since I must pace myself, it has taken a week for my cranky hands to move stuff around and prep and paint the longest stretch of wall. I am taking tomorrow off. I am pleased with the results so far. And I would much prefer that a prospective buyer would open the door to the laundry room and go aaaaahhhhh rather than ewwwwwww. Oh, don't look up or down, just straight ahead and from side to side. Up will still be an unfinished ceiling of various pipes, wires, and furnace vents and down will remain a rug on concrete with a floor drain off to the side.

  

Netflix, Y'all Don't Know Me!

This afternoon an email landed in my inbox from Netflix. Teasing me in the subject line with the words, Carla, we just added a movie you might like. I had to open it to find out they were recommending The Interview. The Interview?!? Seriously? Such an assumption indicates that the Netflix people don't pay the teensiest amount of attention to the ratings I have bestowed upon various series and movies with their cute little stars. Because I have zero, yes, zero desire to see this movie. Based on viewing the trailer prior to a movie I wanted to see, I figured I had seen the high points of the film already and did not choose to invest any more time in it. I expect that The Interview has garnered a bigger audience and made more money than it would have had it been released in regular studio fashion. The brouhaha surrounding Sony pulling it from theaters and then putting it back made it seem much more intriguing than I suspect it actually is. Which leads me to believe That Sony employed a similar marketing ploy to the New Coke/Classic Coke debacle of 1985. Thanks, Netflix, but no thanks. Now please recommend a movie that I'll actually enjoy. And do alert me if Glee, Season 5 ever shows up available for streaming.


Friday, January 23, 2015

The Pagan Mom Speaks

Sometimes it's very heartening to find validation when you're not looking for it. This is a terrific op-ed piece from the Los Angeles Times that I found thanks to advice columnist extraordinaire, Carolyn Hax. My two grown sons, aside from being my two favorite people in the world, have turned out to be exceptional young men. Kind, intelligent, goofy, thoughtful and just plain wonderful. I know, this isn't something I can be objective about. But if you have met either of them you are likely to agree. In choosing to raise my sons without the involvement of a church or religion, I (and my ex, their father, deserves credit here as well) made a point of instilling in them what I later discovered is called a strong moral compass. Which is primarily teaching right from wrong and good from bad absent the whole heaven/eternal reward, hell/eternal punishment, all-seeing deity concept. They treat others with respect and empathy because that is what they were taught and what they observed while they grew. And even if they choose to follow a religion as adults, that is their right that I will respect. We all have our own path to follow. Most of my life I have lived in something of a self imposed closet where I keep my spiritual beliefs to myself. Reading an article like this makes me feel like I can crack that door open a little more and speak a little more freely. This country was founded by people fleeing religious persecution. Which means freedom from religion just as much as it means freedom of religion, a distinction that should be recognized and remembered.