Last month, I realized I was dangerously close to 500 posts. I was thinking how splendid it was going to be to host a blog based solely upon the fact that I had hit an arbitrary number. It was going to be a free idea and an easy post. I was stoked.
Instead I forgot all about it and in the 500th spot I whined about how ladies feel the need to report the size of babies. Whoops.
Happy 504th post!
I’m going to share a secret with you. This is something not many people know, based on my fabulous lifestyle: I am not a person one would be able to consider a millionaire. Nope, these flashy threads are just a front. I buy my onions on sale and I pack lunches for The Max for school and I drive to the other side of town (town is 3/4 mile long) to get gas five cents a gallon cheaper. One thing I cannot bring myself to remember to thriftily do is clip coupons. I don’t buy the newspaper, it’s as simple as that.
This week as my shampoo bottle ran empty, I decided to try something different. My personal choice for hair care products is typically Suave. Honestly, the fifteen dollar bottles of Shampoo do a superior job to the 99 cent bottles of Suave. They just don’t preform fifteen times better, maybe one and a half to two times. So, when salon products cost $1.99, I will buy them.
After researching recipes for shampoo and conditioner, I realized I had all but one ingredient, Castille soap. Following a trip to town I had a bottle of the versatile cleanser.
OK, I don’t remember the exact measurements, but the shampoo consisted of Castille soap, water, and a tiny bit of oil. The conditioner was basically a restaurant salad, minus the meat. I measured and mixed and funneled the goop into old food containers.
This is not glamorous.
I was feeling smug as I brought my concoctions into the shower to test them. I lathered, rinsed, but did not repeat. I allowed the conditioner to set in my scalp for three minutes before washing the salad down the drain.
I got out of the shower and my hair was shiny. It felt clean. I thought I had successfully beaten The Man and his overpriced hair care products.
Two hours later, my hair still felt a little damp. I decided to blow dry it. After fifteen minutes under the hot air and with a red face I determined my hair was wet with oil. I was greasy. I’d been defeated.
Reluctantly, I re-washed my hair with the little bit of Suave I had remaining. Stupid crap cleaned off all the grease, and once again my hair felt normal.
So, strike one. But I am not going down just yet.
This is my attempt at making a panoramic photo. I wish I could show how large the area is, this does not do it justice.
Every fall the town where I graduated high school would host an event to shame all other events across the globe: The Fall Barter Faire.
I cannot find a way to verbally describe the Barter Faire without misrepresenting the experience. I could easily tell you it is a bunch of hippies bartering goods and partying for a weekend. While this is true, it is not only hippies and it is not only bartering. It’s a food vending, musician performing, goods shopping, crap selling, people watching weekend participated by people from every background.
I was crazy stoked to head up there this weekend. I had not been in almost ten years, being as I had not lived here in that long a time. I knew I was going to see many people who I hadn’t even thought about in a decade, and I did. I knew I was going to purchase homegrown foods and handmade crafts, I did that too. I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of my weekend. Let me just show you some pictures. Look at my pictures, they’re fun.
Let’s first talk about this guy holding the drum. (Drum circles are a big part of Barter Faire). I named him “Lost and Found”. Upon entering the faire the first human we encountered was Lost and Found. He stumbled up to me and asked me if I could help him find his tent. It was pitch black and he was not sober. It took about three seconds to realize that neither I nor him was going to find his tent anytime soon. He was one his own. This picture comes from the morning after , when he finally found his tent. It was literally two spaces away from ours. He was essentially home when he first approached us. Hugs not drugs, friends.
I don’t know what this guy was trying to profess or exclaim. I asked if I could snap his photo and he gladly obliged. He was all giddy, more than I had expected. He then flipped his sign over:
Good Man.
They were out of Buckwheat labels at the honey stand. They had an abundance of Buckweet labels, however. I bought two of these large jars. Despite the spelling error, it is quite tasty.
One downfall of Barter Faire is the bathroom situation. You are camping, so squatting seems to be in order. The problem with that is the thousands of other people camping who could watch you. This means you have to use the porta-potty. Each time I went to the row of plastic bathrooms I would have to check out at least three before finding one with toilet paper. One time I found one with a little light provided to help me see. It was a very very little light:
Like I said, barter Faire is a great place for people watching. As I was watching people, you’ll never guess who I found…
I had a great time. I ate a bunch. I shopped a little. I walked a LOT. All in all a successful faire. Cannot wait for next year!
Top 7 TV Bosses-Who don’t run Mcglinn’s Public House in Wenatchee
I began a fancy new job last month, at Mcglinn’s Public House in Wenatchee. I like it, Mcglinn’s Public House in Wenatchee, that is. I like my boss, the guy who runs Mcglinn’s Public House in Wenatchee. I rarely see him. Seems he is mostly a behind the scenes sort of restaurant owner. So while I appreciate his establishment (Mcglinn’s Public House in Wenatchee) and the work he does for it. I have to imagine what it would be like to work with him. Also, I figure if I mention Mcglinn’s Public House in Wenatchee enough times, it might come up in a search engine. I’m not crazy.
I haven’t done a Top 7 is ages, let’s think of seven fantastic bosses who would be great to work for, if I didn’t work at Mcglinn’s Public House in Wenatchee.
7. Michael Scott-The Office
Sure, he’s simple minded. It’s not like I placed the head honcho of Scranton’s branch of Dunder Mifflin at number one on the list. The unintentional fun Mr. Scott oozes out of his antics would be entertaining at the very least.
6.Boss Hog-Dukes of Hazard
He’s not a traditional boss, but it’s in the name of his character, so work with me. He never seems to get real jail time for his behavior. Did he ever really get away with much anyhow? Boss Hogg, I salute you.
5.Rob Gordon-High Fidelity
John Cusack’s character in this movie is about the most laid back guy you could worked for. He didn’t ask for his employees to show up every day, yet he allows it. They don’t really even have to do anything so far as I can tell. They get paid to hang out and be morons.
4.Harriet Michaels-So I Married an Axe Murderer
When I was in high school I didn’t dream of being an actress or a teacher or a CEO. Because of this movie, I wanted to be a butcher. Harriet made it look like fun. I even told Mr. Pilver that when I graduated from school I was going to follow my dream. I don’t remember telling him that, but apparently it impressed him. Now, I butcher chickens. I guess I followed the dream.
3.Oprimus Prime-Transformers
Optimus just wants to hang out on earth and keep this quiet. He has all the power he needs to be corrupt and conquer all humans, yet he spends his days keeping us safe. I’m a little choked up at that fact.
2.Sam Malone-Cheers
Remember when Carla beat the head of that Yankee’s fan into the bar when he mocked Sam, and Sam wouldn’t fire her? Remember all those pranks they tried to play on the rival bar? This is the guy you want to work for. He’s all fun.
1.Lou Grant-Mary Tyler Moore
Lou Grant will holler at you until he’s passed out. When he comes to, he’ll give you a hug. He requires you to do a great job with a flowered fist. But make no mistake, it’s a fist. I want to work for him.
I like babies. I love when people I know have babies and tell me about them, show me pictures, or best of all let me hold them. Babies are cute and their little newborn cries don’t even bother me.
But here’s a short little rant about what I don’t get about babies:
Why…WHY do we have an obsession with the pounds and inches of them when they are born. They are almost always average. Rarely are they under 5 pounds. They are almost never over 9 pounds and they usually fall somewhere in the middle. I mean, can’t we just say they are big, average or small? I feel like it’s a dumb fact I am supposed to remember for future quizzing.
I’m really not trying to be cynical here, I just don’t care how many inches your baby is. I just care if you let me hold it and squueze it’s cheeks.
Thank you for listening. Good Night.
Cell phones are for email and texting and…pictures! I’m on the brink of a bout with depression, I can feel it. The only factor in my life I feel is to blame is the return of summer weather. It’s going to be October tomorrow, and it will be 85 or 90 degrees. When I feel depressed, I cannot write. So, I will show you dumb pictures instead.
I made this pizza. The dough, the sauce, even the sausage was home made venison sausage.
Amy has been updating her blog with her holier-than-thou huge tree of beautiful colors. I have exactly one leafy tree, (the rest are evergreen) and it’s changing too. Really, it just appears to be dying.
When I was in high school I lived in a town with a guy who would walk around with headphones covering his ears all day long. That town was about two hours from here, but somehow I saw him at the grocery store last week.
I don’t know what the crap this means. Do people really walk cats around making it a problem, or is it come sort of joke?
I think the golf ball (my hailed damaged white Accord) could take it.
**WARNING** The next image is not pretty.
It’s a newborn mouse or vole I found in the yard last spring. It’s gross and sad at the same time.
Great, now I am depressed again. 
When I was your age, back in the day, etc. etc. etc. These are the things I preface to The Max when he asks to watch a television show. When I was his age TV was very different. Our family had a television. It was seven thousand pounds and it sat in a permanent spot on the family room floor, making everlasting marks on the carpet.
We only had one TV in the house. We also did not have cable until I was older. TV programs of the Prime Time variety were classified into four genres in my pre-teen head:
1. Sitcoms I wanted to watch.
2. Sitcoms I did not want to watch.
3. Dramas I wanted to watch.
4. Dramas I did not want to watch.
Later on in my childhood, we subscribed to cable and I was introduced to the new world of Nickelodeon. I was past the age where the bulk of the shows were entertaining to me and the Nick at Night offerings like The Honeymooners were something I avoided. The Disney Channel was a pay channel like HBO or Showtime. It was a miracle that we had cable at all, we certainly weren’t going to be the family that paid above and beyond for a kid’s channel. Yet somehow I felt as though there was more than plenty of kid geared television on broadcast to satisfy my viewing needs.
Twenty years later the world of kid’s TV is very different. Nick is still there. Along with Nick Jr. Cartoon Nick, Teen Nick, and TV Land. The Disney channel comes with the regular programming and the have spin off channels as well. Boomerang, Cartoon Network, Sprout TV, and so on assure me that twenty four hours of every day I can choose between at least half a dozen made for kids television shows. I might be wrong, but the only show I can remember specifically made for kids was Saved By The Bell.
Because of this, broadcast television seems to have abandoned the family sitcom. I’ve mentioned before I don’t really know what is on TV currently, but it seems the days of Who’s the Boss and Growing Pains are long gone. If I want to sit and watch an age appropriate show with my son I have to sit through iCarly or Hannah Montana. I don’t want to do that.
Thank goodness for the wise people at TBS who show a good selection of those shows. Another great resource is websites like Hulu.
I do wish that Max and I together could have Cosby Show night, like I did with my family. My dad worked late the night it aired, so mom would feed us popcorn, raw veggies, and root beer for dinner as we sat on the family room floor.
Max’ll probably say the same thing to his kids. Yup, he’s going to reminisce of the good ol’ days of iCarly. Ugh.
Whoopie! It’s fall! It officially time to smell leaves, pumpkins, and the inside of rubber masks! Today, we will discuss Halloween costumes that don’t suck. I always prefer when a costume is homemade. The bagged up varieties from Target or a costume superstore are fine, but the best and most creative get-ups are always those that people have carefully assembled on their own. There are some types of costumes I just hate, most notably the “I am too cool to dress up t-shirt worn by men:
We get it. You don’t want to be uncomfortable. Just don’t bother dressing up or try and think of something to wear that IS comfortable. This just makes you look like a party pooper, and party poopers ought to stay home.
Secondly, the “I just want to dress trashy for one night a year” ensemble worn by women.
If you want to look like a hooker, go as a hooker, or Tila Tequila. At least that’s creative. You don’t actually look like a police woman…or nurse or whatever.
OK, let’s look at some costumes that don’t suck:
Ah, kid costumes. This one is cute, and it gives the impression that the wee one does not smell like poo.
This may be my favorite. Decent choice for those who want to dress comfortably as well.
I’m not sure if this is offensive. So, I am sorry if you are offended. It reminded me of a bearded lady from a carnival. Also, I cannot tell if it is legit.
I love The Office. Going as Dwight is a superb option. Sending your kid as Dwight is far better.
Babies are tough to be creative with. The pea-pod option is overdone. Instead send your wee one as another meatier variety of food.
Let’s end this with a group costume. Fine job done by these Tetris pieces. However, when they disperse and mingle, it makes less sense.
Any thoughts as to what you are going to be this year? You only have one month and eight days remaining!
Ah, this picture makes me so happy. It makes me remember the apartment I lived in, on top of the diner that this picture came from. The elderly man who sat and chewed his meal so slowly while I abused my old cell phone camera taking pictures of his back.
Anyhow, I think I am due for a re-design. Partially, cause Amy did it and it looks fan- tab.
This isn’t really an entry, it’s a thinking out loud session. But things may look different soon. And I want to make sure the old dude pic is somewhere on the internet safe from my laptop crashing.
The End.
I didn’t do much real work this week. Doesn’t matter. My brain has been taught to squeal with joy on Fridays. This particular Friday I am headed to a Salmon Festival in a Bavarian themed town about an hour from here. Fish and lederhosen, together at last! It’s an event I am going to be late for if I don’t get off the computer soon. I leave you with this video from 1991, sing along!
The Pilver 