Totally Uncalled For

Remember that garden I planted a couple of weeks ago? Well, nothing's grown yet. I know it hasn't been that long, but I'm worried that our recent cold snap has screwed up the garden's potential.

I'd really hate for this first garden outing to be a bust. Especially since I was getting used to doing things outside in the yard. Yes, that sounds odd. But when you despise hot weather, insects and reptiles it's not difficult to be afraid of a snake and wolf spider infested yard (Why did I have to look that up? Now I'm all creeped out and itchy). It took about a year for me to realize that wandering through our yard could bring some rather unexpected results.

Also? It would be awesome if the garden could produce veggies because Mother Nature has decided to be a complete bitch. On Saturday? I found a tick dug deep into my left side.

I know! When I first saw it that morning I thought it was a skin tag. It was basically the color of my skin, and who among us has not discovered a scar/mole/pimple/stretch mark that wasn't there the day before? Later I was looking at it and kind of flicking it around when I noticed...the legs. Sweet Lord Almighty!

The resulting hour was filled with me asking HUBS to confirm the tickness, having him pull it out with tweezers, watching him set it on fire and then me taking a shower and washing all the clothes I'd worn that week while crying and trying not to have a full blown panic attack as I contemplated Lyme disease. Does that sound extreme? Sorry, I didn't grow up in a Yellowstone National Forest. I'm a city girl who has never been feasted on by a tick and never thought such a country-life type of thing would happen to me. I was in shock, OK?

So, really, garden. I'm going through a lot for you, including being turned into food. You'd better damn well grow and grow good. Hear me?

Holidays Come And Gone

Hello all! I trust that everyone who celebrates Christmas had a nice one.

Now, on to an important question: Does anyone else feel like they're being murdered by Christmas in a disco circa 1985 when they hear Mannheim Steamroller?

Yes? I knew it!

I Just Don't Get It

After hitting the post office today, I decided to spend some of my birthday cash four doors down at Starbucks. I got a 12 ounce Caramel Brulee Latte and, honestly, I was unimpressed.

This was only the second time in my entire life I've had a Starbucks coffee creation. What am I missing, people? The prices are outrageous (I spent $4.05 on something that wasn't anywhere near as good as the much cheaper cappuccino at Quik Trip) and it isn't what I'd call exceptionally tasty. Sure, it was hot, which is nice on a chilly day, but the flavor was only OK. It's got to be more of an atmosphere thing. Though that doesn't explain all the people who get expensive brew to go.

I have to confess: Starbucks holds no power over me. It's gas station cappuccino all the way for this girl.

Consumer Warning: Dear God, What Is Happening To My Underarms!?

...

I am really not that particular when it comes to beauty/personal care products. In general, whatever works at as cheap a price as possible usually does quite nicely for me.

However, with all the investigative confusion over whether or not aluminum in antiperspirants causes breast cancer, I decided to give a deodorant without the metallic stuff a try.

At around $4, which is more than I'd ever spent on underarm paraphernalia before, I sprung for this Tom's of Maine aluminum free deodorant. I got the lavender scent; usually I avoid lavender because it tends to be too strong and give me a headache within minutes, but this scent was like a gentle lavender breeze.

Here is where we get to the kicker. You see that sticker on top that says 24 Hour Odor Protection? Well, let me tell you to take the good folks at Tom's of Maine completely seriously. I have found that at exactly the 24 hour mark after applying something radical happens: your pits become deeply, deeply funky.

I know that sounds self-explanatory, but it's not. See, it isn't as though the deodorant fades away, leaving your body to it's own odoriferous devices. Oh, no. That's too easy. This stuff? It actually turns bad on you. Meaning, if you compare this scent at 25 hours with your usual scent after a hard workout, you will smell different and far, far and beyond worse.

Never in all my post-pubescent life, you guys. Clearly I should have looked at some reviews first. Once I finish this tube, I will be going back to Secret forever and ever, amen.

The Chew Isn't Working

...

Has anyone been watching The Chew? It's the show ABC killed All My Children for. Now, I'm going to admit my bias toward soaps up front; I'd watched AMC off and on for around 16 years, though for the past two our relationship was mostly 'off'.

However, I wanted The Chew to work out. I love cooking and am a huge fan of cooking shows, even ones with stupid names. I've now watched about a week's worth of episodes and can state without a doubt that it's semi-painful to watch. Separately, all the hosts (There are five. FIVE, people!) seem likeable enough. Together, though? It's just too messy. Here are my reasons why it's not working.

Why The Chew Sorta Sucks

1) There's already four chef/food people in the house, we don't need an official moderator. Clinton Kelly, why are you here?

2) Even with Clinton, the conversations are always awkward. I don't think any of the hosts are used to dealing with a live audience...Or each other, for that matter.

3) Dammit, there's just too many bitches on stage! And they're never all doing the same thing. Two people are standing, three are sitting, someone's cooking, someone's chopping, someone else is gesticulating wildly...THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON AT ONCE!

4) No one here is a journalist or has any real interviewing skills. Yesterday Mario Batali asked guest and New York mayor Michael Bloomberg, "What do you expect from a New Yorker?" I could see Bloomberg's befuddlement and really wanted him to answer, "Well, the least you can do is not be a dick." But, he answered without a hint of sarcasm. Damn!

5) No one here is Regis. The hosts tell stories, but none of them have the right oomph to make them pop. Cue additional awkwardness.

6) Crap, I just found out they have a correspondent. Are you really telling me Clinton couldn't do the remote pieces for them? It's not like he's running a restaurant at night. Again...Too. Many. People.

7) The food looks good, but the prep work lacks even the most remote appeal. Part of this is due to the lackluster set; it just barely looks like a kitchen in there.

8) None of the hosts seem to be very well prepared. And, on top of that, they seem to be trying really hard to make us like them. As a result they come off as super desperate.

I'm not the only one thinking the show needs some major tweaking to work. Even at it's silliest, AMC was still a better, less jumbled and boring, package.

Have you seen The Chew? What do you think?

Music Monday: Mono Is Kicking My Ass

Well, y'all it's been a chilly, grey, rainy day (totally unlike the photo) and my Monopalooza has clearly turned into something much more evil. I've now been sick (That's me being gentle so you folks don't have to think about me being trapped in the bathroom for three hours at a time...Oops...) three times in about a month. The last two incidents happened yesterday *yowza* and this morning *egad* when I was this close to getting my assignment done super early.

As much as I hate to go back to the doctor two months after getting my mono diagnosis, I am obviously not well. Who knows, maybe she can give me something to settle my stomach, or at least give me some ideas for natural, at-home remedies I can use.

In much better news? The Cardinals are headed to the World Series! We got enough free lunch this Sunday to feed both HUBS and myself! We wet to church again! I made peanut butter cookies with chocolate and peanut butter chips, ate four of them and didn't throw them up!

Now! On to the music! I'm still on an oldie kick, so enjoy the past, lovelies!*









*It's possible I've used one exclamation point too many.

Well, I Won't Be Going Here Anytime Soon...

That's right, the whole state is now off limits until they get this shit under control. Ick!

Music Monday: I'm A Bit Bored

Not with life in general...Actually, yeah, with life in general a little bit. But, mostly I'm bored with fast food. In the past few weeks we've had everything: Hardee's, Jack-n-the Box, Penn Station, McDonald's, White Castle's, Sonic, Taco Bell, Church's Chicken, Arby's, Five Guys Burgers and Fries...If you can drive up to a window or get your food in a greasy paper bag we've eaten it.

I've cooked a few times since we got back from Philly, but when I don't feel like cooking or making sandwiches or doing brinner, that kinda means fast food. And, I'm tired of it. I have not had a single fast food meal in the past month and a half that I thoroughly enjoyed. I ate it because it was in front of me and I didn't want to cook, but I wasn't enthused about what I had. Also, I generally ended up being full but completely unsatisfied by whatever meal I'd eaten. Blah.

I am not happy about our reliance on fast food. And yet, I get so fucking tired of trying to cook new and interesting things with the same old ingredients we can afford. Plus? I just plain get tired of cooking and can't stand the thought of it about four times a week. (We don't actually eat out that many times per week. There's a fair amount of Ok, what's the fastest possible thing I can make tonight going on. Quesadilla's, anyone?)

I hate being bored with my food. When you get down to your last $20 before pay day and you've made the tuna fish and the homemade pancakes and the beans and rice and the mac 'n' cheese and otherwise cleared out the pantry/fridge and you can't stand the thought of preparing anything, what do you do?

Seriously, friends. What do you eat when the pantry's bare and you have little funding? Am I ignorant to some here's-what-adults-do magic?

Anyhoo. Enjoy a little Cold War Kids, why don't you?

Music Monday: Well, That's New

I know I'm not exactly flush with bad health over here, thank God, but it occurred to me just a few minutes ago that I used to be healthier.

I know what you're thinking, You've gotten older, Citygirl. This is what happens when people get older. Yeah, I'm older. But, fuck, I'm not old, you know?

On Saturday I noticed that the lymph node in my neck on the right side was swollen. Then, on Sunday I noticed that a muscle behind that lymph node was also swollen. Now, my neck and shoulders had been bugging me all week while trying to sleep and after waking up. I thought it was just my now-flat Walmart special $5 pillow that we just got last year. (Just how the fuck much do I need to spend to get a good pillow, anyway? Does anyone know?)

Now, though, I don't know. Clearly something is wrong in my neck-type area, but what? I called my doc today but she can't get me in until next Monday. I think I'll try HUBS' doc tomorrow to see if he can fit me in sooner.

Anyway. Did any of you catch the meteors this weekend? I woke up at 5 a.m. but it was disappointingly cloudy outside, so no shooting stars for me.

Well, enjoy these video selections from The Bird and the Bee. The above song has been one of my favorites for years, but I'd never seen the video until last week. Thank God for YouTube!

Music Monday: Wow, We're A Mess Over Here

Man, Philly was worth it, but that vacation definitely wrecked us! The photo above is proof of that. What you're looking at, my friends, is a baking soda anti-itch mask on the chesticle area of yours truly. Now, I was expecting to get a heat rash in Philly. HUBS and I did tons of walking, and since I sweat like a robber on a chain gang the minute the temperature goes above 75 even when I'm standing still, I was prepared for some part of my face or neck to break the fuck out.

However, I was not prepared for the itchy, red, bumpy, irritated-by-the-slightest-bit-of-clothing patches that invaded my neck, ears, chest, face and now arms. I've been battling this rash, which, by the by, looks like a serious infectious disease, since the Thursday we were in Philly. That's almost two the fuck weeks, internet!

For that time I've been covered in extra strength hydrocortisone, cold milk compresses, calamine, the blissfully new clear calamine and, as you've seen, baking soda packs. For a brief moment this Saturday it looked like I was rounding the corner; my ears were cleared up and my neck and chest infestations had dried to less itchy but still physically unappealing dark, scaly patches. But by that night I noticed a new infection on other parts of my neck and chest, and now my arms and a bit of face are screwed.

I write to you now covered in Caladryl Clear and having made a dermatologist appointment for tomorrow morning. I hope I don't have scabies or a parasite or something really horrible and odd like that.

Also messed up in our neck of the woods? HUBS. He started getting sick the same day my rash appeared in Philly and, after his own brief period of feeling better, has taken another turn this weekend. He had to take three and a half days off work last week! And now his voice is so hoarse that he sounds like Darth Vader. Poor HUBSY.

So, I want to know, is this what you do Philly? Lure vacationers in with all your history and awesome food and murals, let them spend all their monies and tire themselves out and them make them sick just in time to go home? Is it, Philly?! IS THIS HOW YOU HAVE FUN, PHILLY?!?! SHAME ON YOU!!!

In other news, Marc and J. Lo! Say it ain't so!

Cicada Crazy

Photo

Ok, nature. I know these things are only around for about six weeks every seven or thirteen or seventeen years, but, oh my! I am fucking tired of the noise and getting attacked every time I leave the house.

Monday seemed to be their peak day in our yard. They literally covered the trunk of our small tree and had infested all the branches and leaves. I got too close and ended up getting pelted with cicadas! (Alright, maybe it was just one. But having that thing hit me in the back was terrifying! Really!) I would have taken a picture of it for you, but I'm afraid to leave my damn house, you guys.



In other, cat related, news, Luanne had to have a bit of what I'm calling spa time over the Memorial Day weekend. And by spa time I mean time in the hospital from Friday night through Monday afternoon.

I had taken her to the vet specialist for some tests Friday morning. He took blood and did x-rays to make sure nothing else appeared to be wrong, since she's been lethargic and still isn't eating on her own. Then, he called me around 4 p.m. to tell me all her levels looked fine, except for her being anemic. Before I had a chance to ask where to get cat iron pills, he told me she'd need a blood transfusion. SAAAAAAAAAAAAY WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!

So, since they're closed on weekends, HUBS and I had to head off to yet another vet specialist hospital so Luanne could get her some spankin' new kitty blood. The doc thinks the anemia was caused by some blood borne bacteria or parasite that can lay dormant for quite a while. She got sick, her immune system was compromised and the bastard kicked in.

I take her back to our usual specialist tomorrow so they can recheck her levels, because she's still not eating on her own or moving around much. And now? Now she's also peed without going to the litter box twice. I'm afraid to let the chick sit down anywhere without a towel under her. Dammit...

I SURRENDER LUANNE'S HEALTH TO THE DIVINE!
I SURRENDER LUANNE'S HEALTH TO THE DIVINE!
I SURRENDER LUANNE'S HEALTH TO THE DIVINE!