The Junk Drawer

Because God hates us, my husband and I started a weeklong vacation on Saturday and then promptly got colds Saturday night. This is a first for us. In the twenty three years we’ve been together, we’ve never been sick at the same time.

Which means our first fear was “Who’s gonna get food for us?

While I was still looking and feeling like I belonged to the land of the living, I went to the store Sunday morning and picked up a few things to last a while. But then Monday night rolled around and I was tired of chicken soup and wanted something high in calories and sweet. And that meant donuts.

But how could I possibly show up at a brightly-lit store amidst the general non-sick population in my condition just to get donuts?

I quickly realized I didn’t care what I looked like, grabbed my car keys, headed over and walked right into my grocery store looking a sight. I appeared to be wearing my Halloween costume early. The costume is called Disgusting Slob. Let me set the stage:

1. At the time I had not showered for almost three days.

2. Unbrushed hair pulled back in a scrunchy with wayward hairs sticking out in all directions. No makeup. Chapped lips. Chapped nose.

3. I was wearing what I’d slept in the night before. Stretchy pants and a shirt with chocolate stains on it.

4. I was not wearing a bra.

Walking into the store was an exercise in sheer willpower. My legs felt noodly and my head was spinning like a top. In a fog, I made a beeline to the bakery and grabbed a container of one dozen glazed donuts.

I pretended that if I didn’t look any of the other customers in the eye, they couldn’t see me either.

I held my purse tightly against my chest so as to keep the braless ladies in place until I got to the self-checkout. Thank God for self-checkout. I would never have put a poor clerk in a position to look at me. That’s not playing fair.

I did NOT look at myself in the giant floor to ceiling windows at the front of the store because then I’d have real confirmation that I looked the way I did. Denial is a powerful thing.

p.s. I’m still wearing what I wore that night. I still haven’t showered. We still feel like crap, but the donuts were delicious. Now can one of you come over here and make us meals for the rest of the week? I promise I’ll shower for ya.

Despite the rain today, I thought I’d crawl off the couch and get out for a walk.

Normally, I listen to music while walking around my neighborhood, but I stopped doing that because this is what I use to listen to music.

Antique Sony Walkman

The last time I carried this with me, a pre-teen riding in a car with his mother shouted out the window “Mom! What’s that lady got on her head? And what’s that discus thing she’s carrying?”

The mother shushed her son and said “It’s like an iPod, only Frisbee-sized. She must be destitute, so don’t make fun of the lady.”

“OK, Mom. But let’s pull over and give her a few dollars. Will that help her get an iPod?”

“I don’t think so. She’ll only spend it on CDs.”

“What are CDs?”

“The things she has to put in it to hear music.”

“What?”

“You put a disc in there and it spins around inside.”

“Mom, you’re going to make me cry.”

OK, so that conversation never took place, but I fear it will someday and then I’ll be the one crying.

Santa, please bring me an iPod for Christmas. That’d be swell and so 21st century.

4:15 AM

Me: Dave, I think there’s a fire in the house.

Hubs: What?

Me: It smells like fire.

Hubs: What? Go back to sleep.

Me: Wait. No. It smells like burnt coffee.

Hubs: Uh. No. It’s a skunk.

Me: Is not.

Hubs: Skunk sprayed outside.

Me: Maybe the furnace is broken.

Hubs: Skunk.

Me, on the floor, smelling the heating vent: Well, it’s not the heat.

Hubs: Skunk.

Me: I swear, it smells like burnt coffee. Maybe the cats turned on the coffee maker somehow. The pot’s not empty. Remember how Lucky called your brother stepping on my cell phone? He could totally turn on the coffee maker.

Hubs: It’s a skunk. And if you say one more thing, I’m putting a pillow over your head.

I’ve been following the blog Bent Objects for a couple years now. The man behind the blog, Terry Border, is an uber-talented photographer and artist who marries everyday objects and wire to tell a story.

Some of his pieces are funny, some are heartbreaking, some are twisted and a few have taken me a beat to figure out. I love art that makes me think.

Terry recently published a book of his works called Bent Objects: The Secret Life of Everyday Things. Some pieces are from the blog, but many more are brand new. Congratulations, Terry! You’ve achieved something that most bloggers only dream about. I’m just a wee bit jealous. OK. A lot jealous.

I cracked open my copy today and leafed greedily through it much like a bag of potato chips. One led to another and before I knew it I was stuffed and happy. I wish I had half of Terry’s wit.

With his permission, I’m republishing a few of the pieces that appeared on his blog to let you get inside Terry’s head. Enjoy!

Pretty Cupcakes 

Yesterday’s Flowers

Horror S’morer

For a fun and funky look at more of his pieces that didn’t make it into the book, check out his rockin’ promo video:

What in the wide, wide, world of sports is going on with some people?

Little tip here. You have to read the following very carefully. This is the opening to an actual article from a New Jersey paper, The Trentonian.

They courted for more than ten years before she finally popped the question.

Amy Wolfe had experienced a decade of ups and downs with her lover but wanted to move forward with her romance.

So, Wolfe, 33, a Pennsylvania church organist, will go ahead with her plans to marry an amusement ride at Knoebels Amusement Park in the Poconos.

Wolfe claims to have objectum sexuality, a condition that makes sufferers attracted to inanimate objects — in this case she’s head over heels for an 80-foot gondola ride called 1001 Nachts.

You next!

Holy cow! It’s been over a year since I last posted something for the Food That Looks Like Stuff series. It’s not that I haven’t been looking. I’m still searching for the elusive Virgin Mary on a Pop Tart.

I’m pleased to bring you a submission that ends the yearlong drought. Thank you, reader Louise Pena!

Coffee No. 4

Wouldn’t this cup of coffee go great with Bagel #9?

If you’re a new reader and want to see some past foods that look like something, check these out:

• Compilation of items over several months
• Sleeping Basset Hound God-Zeus Chicken Finger
• Mr. Potato Head
• You Say Tomato, I Say Diablo
• Do You Know the Muffin Man?
• Say Cheese, Cracker

Don’t we have enough to worry about with the people in our lives thinking they know what’s better for us?

Now software wants to get into the act?

My sister Marlene emailed this to me today. It’s a screen snapshot of a co-worker’s Lotus Notes program.

The screen shot came attached with a note: “Things just aren’t making a whole lot of sense today.”

No kidding.

What’s the matter, brainless program whose opinion wasn’t asked for? Not feelin’ the 16th vibe?

Kinda like ordering surf ‘n turf and getting a salad.

Thanks. But no.

.end The

.fun no is thing backwards This

.again forward move to want I.

.back come you time next the reading worth something have I’ll promise I .days more few a me Give

.nothing about post A .get you what is this So

.write to what over stressing ,hands my in head empty my with laptop the at me seeing of tired probably is husband My

.it feeling not I’m But .about write to ideas me give to trying helpful so been has co-worker My .Nothing .me of front in out pops hilarious something that hoping around camera my carry I .blog the on about write to fun something having not is most me bothers that thing The

?gives What

.mode hibernation winter into going is body my think I and shorter getting are days The .pounds 10 losing summer this success enjoying after again weight gaining I’m .week a for idea post single a had haven’t I

.backwards moving I’m like feel I