The Junk Drawer

WARNING: This post is disgusting. Come back later if you are repulsed by vomiting. I’m sure those in the medical profession (or the parents among you) have seen it all, so you’re probably safe.

Yesterday I did something I’ve never done before. I threw up from smelling garbage. Yeah, fun.

I took a full kitchen trash bag to the garage and when I lifted the lid to the big can, I gagged. I thought “Oh, it’s just a dry heave. No problem.”

Then the beast grabbed me by the throat and screamed “There’s steaming cat poo in this here can! Run! Run!”

I had to cover my mouth as I ran to the kitchen sink, where I let loose. Thrice. My husband thought maybe it was one of the cats coughing up a hair ball. No, dear, that was me.

I’m guessing we had a couple bags of garbage stewing in our hundred degree garage for a few days and it hadn’t escaped until just then.

All I can say is God bless the trash haulers of the world. Let us all thank them for the foul and disgusting job they do. Imagine if no one took our garbage away and it was left to rot in the baking sun. Seriously, think about it.

In recognition of the guys who pick up my trash, I have a little prayer for you.

Dear God,

Please bless and keep the trash haulers.

They do work no sane person would do.

They lug and throw and smell the funk

Whether it’s food or diapers with poo.

They ride on the truck in the wake of the smell.

They can’t get away for a minute.

If not for them taking the crap that I lay

We’d be up to our eye sockets in it.

Amen

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You’re all aware of my love affair with bacon, so it stands to reason that I eat my fair share of BLT sandwiches.

There are two places I get my fix. Subway and Wawa. Today we shall have a smackdown between the two sandwich giants.

There is one clear winner and it all boils down to the ordering process because the faster and easier I can get my grubby little hands on my BLT, the happier Kathy is and the less punishment the general public has to suffer for me being hungry and annoyed.

How to order at Subway:

Enter establishment and queue up to the start of the assembly line. Tell the sandwich prepper what sandwich you want, on what bread and with what condiments.

The prepper grabs your selected bread and EVEN THOUGH YOU JUST SAID WHAT YOU WANTED, proceeds to ask you at each condiment container what you want on the sandwich.

What kills me is the part where, even though I just said I want a BLT, the prepper asks me if I want LETTUCE and TOMATO on my Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato sandwich. It makes me want to cry. They do this every single time, without fail.

Yes, I would like lettuce and tomato on my Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato sandwich and if you ask me if I want bacon on that, I’ll have to give up on you and leave without my sandwich and that’s not good for the general public, remember?

Pickles? No. Cheese? No. Onions? No. Peppers? No. Olives? What? No! GROSS.

After finally making it to the end of the condiment station, my sandwich is ready and I wish I had gone to Wawa. Although Subway has the best bread, Wawa has the ordering process down to a science.

How to order at Wawa:

Enter establishment and walk up to a gloriously easy-to-use kiosk that beckons me to buy any number of happy-looking hoagies, sandwiches, wraps and subs.

I touch the screen to begin.

Welcome!

Oh, why thank you!

What kind of sandwich would you like?

I shall have a BLT.

On what kind of roll?

Hoagie, please.

Would you like that toasted?

Oh, yes, toast me, baby.

What size do you want? Shorti? 6″? 10″? Giant?

Let’s say 6″. By the way, I love you, pleasant-sounding beeping machine.

What condiments would you like on that? My selections are never-ending. Among them is mayonnaise and not just one button for mayonnaise.

There is a special button called “Extra Mayo” that should have a halo around it because it is a button made in heaven and blessed by God.

Why, yes. Yes, I would like extra mayo.

Almost finished. More bacon ($1.09 extra)?

Oh, sweet Jesus. Could it be? A button you press to get more bacon? What happens if I press it twice? Three times? Do I get a whole pig? Bring on the more!

Beep-boop-beep-boop-beep. My order is finished and out pops a receipt. And by the time I’ve paid for my delicious, bacon-packed BLT swimming in mayonnaise, the server hands it to me and I’m on my way.

The only possible improvement that Wawa could make to this process is if they incorporate the sandwich-ordering technology into the gas pumps outside. Yes, Wawa is also a gas station. Don’t knock it til you try it.

Everyone knows I’m an awesome product tester and so it makes sense that I know what I’m talking about in the sandwich-ordering, gas-pumping, time-saving department. What do you say, Wawa? Care to make a great system even better?

Also, could you install a debit card swiper so I can pay for my sandwich right at the deli to avoid annoying children standing at the register, screaming at their mothers that they want Bazooka bubble gum for dinner? Yeah, that’d be swell.

I’d like a BLT with a side of humor blog.

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Today’s post covers a series of topics that don’t qualify for posts of their own. Kind of a mish-mash of things that don’t have anywhere else to go. You know, like stuff you throw in a junk drawer. Fitting, eh?

HUMOR-BLOGS.COM ROCKS

I’ve been a member of Humor-Blogs.com since I started this blog and have been ranked in the Top 20 blogs (out of 940 blogs) for the last six months or so. If you’re a humor blogger, I highly recommend joining up. Not only will you see increased traffic, you’ll find other great humor blogs to get to know and love.

I’d like to publicly thank Diesel, who started the Humor-Blogs site, for giving me a place to showcase The Junk Drawer. I don’t know where I’d be without it.

And for a bit of shameless self-promotion, you may not know that clicking the green Humor-Blogs button in my sidebar earns me referral credits that keep me in the Top 20.

If you want to check out other humor sites, click through to Humor-Blogs that way, and you’ll be doing your part to help me achieve fame and fortune. Well, not the fortune part. I haven’t quite figured that out yet.

WHAT’S THIS ENTRECARD THING?

You might have noticed the “Today’s Featured Blog” widget in my sidebar. These sites come from Entrecard, a service that gives bloggers a way to promote themselves by “dropping” their cards on sites as they browse other blogs.

You earn credits for dropping your card and having cards dropped on yours, as well as through other bloggers advertising on your site. Then you use your own credits to buy spots on other blogs.

In the month since I joined, I’ve seen a twofold increase in my daily visitors. Some people pooh-pooh Entrecard because it takes time to drop cards while visiting other sites. But I’ve found it to be a worthwhile effort so far. My stats program tells me that about 10% of droppers stay longer than five minutes on my site, and some also subscribe to my feed.

If you use Entrecard, try not to “drop and run.” Spend time on the blogs you visit, and most importantly, comment on the blogs you really like. In my opinion, commenting on other people’s blogs is the best way to gain traffic in the long run. If you use Entrecard, drop a comment in the drawer and share your experience with it.

YES, THE BAG IS STILL IN THE TREE

Just a quick update: The plastic bag is still stuck in the tree outside my building at work. You may have noticed the Plastic Bag Tracker displayed in my sidebar, updated daily. There it will sit until the bag falls out of the tree, or Jeff comes to take it out his damn self (I know it’s driving him insane that it’s still there).

I’LL HATE MYSELF IN THE MORNING

It kills me to beg, but I’m doing it anyway. I’m currently running a Top Spots widget in my sidebar, where bloggers can buy a spot in the list for $3 to showcase a link to their sites. Consider it my tip jar.

Right now, the list is full, but I would appreciate if a few more bloggers would buy a spot — and here’s the begging part — so that I can reach the payment threshold. Because Top Spots won’t pay out until $25 is reached, and I’m stuck at the $23 mark, I haven’t seen one red cent from running the widget.

To encourage new Top Spotters, I’ll drop the cost down to $2. A link to your site will appear on the list for one month, after which I’ll remove the widget and collect my 25 bucks. Thanks to those who’ve bought a spot and to those who will consider buying one now. I’m not sure how much traffic the people currently in the list have seen, but I hope it’s been enough to consider your $3 investment worthwhile!

That’s it for today’s mish-mash post. Have a great weekend everybody!

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There are two numbers I’m obsessed with: One, my weight, which never makes me happy. And, two, the amount of readers who’ve subscribed to my blog’s feed. Smiles all around. I’ve finally cracked the 100 mark!

Actually, I have three separate feed counts that total almost 150, but I don’t count the older feeds because I’m not sure there are active readers behind those numbers. I’m only eying the current feed, which sits nicely at 103.

I want to take a moment to thank everyone who subscribes to the Junk Drawer, or who comes in from a bookmark. Thanks also go to those who added me to their blogrolls. I appreciate the links that lead people here.

I’ve said on more than one occasion that it’s really my readers who make my blog what it is today. Yes, I write this thing, but something amazing happens when I click the Publish button. A party breaks out in the comments section.

People have asked me how I achieve such a high number of comments each post. Honestly, I don’t know the formula, but I know dumb luck is a big part of it. Somehow I’ve attracted the right mix of people who leave the funniest comments after every visit.

During a birthday party last weekend, my family was sitting around talking about things that go on in The Drawer. We remembered some funny stuff left in the comments and someone said “Huh? What are you talking about?” and another said “Oh my God! You’re not reading the comments? You have to read the comments! It’s a goldmine in there!”

Bottom line, if you’re reading The Junk Drawer, hugs and kisses. If you’re not reading the comments, you must change your ways because you’re missing out on a key element of the blog. You might chuckle at something I’ve written, but you’re going to snort something out your nose if you dig further and read what people dropped in the drawer.

Thanks again, everyone! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Blogging has been some of the most fun I’ve had in my life, and you’re responsible for that. Toast yourselves and have a great weekend!

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All too often I’m complaining about something. If you heard that’s what happens here, sorry to disappoint you for today.

The thing is it snowed last night. Not a blizzard, but enough snow to make the prospect of shoveling it unappealing to my husband Dave and me. We’re off work today and really wanted to kick back and relax. The more it snowed, the more our backs instinctively started hurting.

The plan was to watch the forecast and estimate the best time to go out, between when the snow was expected to stop and when the sleet was expected to start.  We had another hour to complain about work neither of us wanted to do.

Just then Dave heard some kids walking up towards the house. Kids with shovels. Five of them. In the ten years we’ve lived in this house, we never had kids come by to offer to shovel for us. I figured that was an activity today’s youth wanted no part of, or their parents were afraid to send them out the door to strangers’ homes. I thought what a sad sign of the times. As kids, Dave and I shoveled for money. All our friends shoveled for money. Doesn’t anyone want to shovel for money anymore?

Before the kids even rang our doorbell, Dave handed me 25 bucks. “Here, this should be enough for the driveway.”  I opened the door and before the kid could even say anything, I thrust the money at him and said “Is this enough for the driveway?” The look on his face was priceless. Red-cheeked from the cold and eyes wide open, he said “Yeah!! Thanks!!”

When he turned around, he waved the cash at his buddies and their faces lit up. They got crackin’ immediately.

Before they got halfway done, Dave asked me “Do we have any more cash laying around? We should ask them to do the back sidewalk.”

I frowned. I only had about three bucks in my purse and he only had eight more singles. I cursed the fact that I almost never have cash on me, since I prefer to use my debit card at stores. I considered writing a check. Dave and I discussed how stupid it would be to write a check to a child. I suggested we write it to one of the kids’ mothers, but then that seemed too weird. Dammit!!! We need more cash! And, hurry! They’re almost done with the driveway!

After nixing the check idea, we did the only thing we could do. We raided the change jar for quarters. There we stood, counting out enough quarters to round out to 20+ more bucks. As dumb as it felt to give them a pound of change and some bills, money is money. I hardly think they would care. They didn’t.

I opened the door and yelled “Hey guys? Is twenty good for the sidewalk?”

They shouted back, “Yeah! Cool!” And off they went. We had ourselves our own little snow-shoveling chain gang and now we didn’t have to get bundled up, get wet and cold or break our backs on what looked like very heavy snow.

When they were done, the leader of the group returned to tell me they were finished and to thank me for the money. No, thank you!

God bless you, Chain Gang. Your parents should be proud that you’re not afraid to sweat for a few bucks. I didn’t think I’d ever see that sight for the rest of my life. I hope I see them again next year. I’m pretty sure after making almost 50 bucks for a half hour’s work, those kids will remember our address.

“Y’all come back now, ya hear!”

So do any of you see kids shoveling for money (or maybe for nothing) in your neighborhoods? Or do I just live in a really lazy section of town?

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I just got a copy of the pictures taken of me at Dorney Park last weekend. It’s glaringly evident that the time has come for me to get serious about losing some weight. So here I am again, trying to get mentally prepared to do a workout several times a week. I figure if I write about trying to exercise, I’ll be held accountable somehow. I’m taking all forms of encouragement, guys. And to those who work with me, throw bricks at my head if you see me at the candy dish. Aim high and don’t miss.

One of the few things that keeps me pumped up while working out is listening to music and only one kind will do — late 80s and early 90s funk and dance. Contrary to popular belief, a 40-something woman can get down and get funky. You may not want to see it, but it does happen and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Look away if you must.

Here’s my Top 10 List of Best Workout Music:

1. It Takes Two — Rob Base & D.J. E-Z Rock
2. The Power — Snap!
3. Word Up - -Cameo
4. Get on the Good Foot — James Brown
5. The Glamorous Life — Sheila E
6. You Dropped a Bomb on Me — The Gap Band
7. Gonna Make You Sweat — C & C Music Factory
8. Bust a Move — Young MC
9. Everybody Everybody — Black Box
10. Push it –Salt ‘n Pepa

I’m off to do a workout. Funk out.

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I love autumn. Love it so much, I got married in November when the leaves were just falling and the air was crisp and cool. There is no better time of the year.

Here are my Top 5 reasons why I love the fall:

1. Halloween is coming. What other time do you get an excuse to dress up like someone you’re not and get away with it? It’s fun driving somewhere in full clown gear just to see the look on other people’s faces when you whiz by. Hey, clown! Get off the road! And don’t forget…. If you’re looking for a treat to make for a Halloween party or just because, check out my Butterfinger Eyeballs.

2. The air is cool, dry and I can stop sweating. I’m not a fan of the heat and humidity, considering what it does to my curly hair and my general well-being. I get puffy and perturbed, plain and simple. Don’t know why I keep living in the northeast.

3. I exercise more. Winter is too cold, spring is too rainy and summer is too brutal. But autumn is just right for getting out for a good, comfortable walk.

4. The weekends are mine. With few holidays and no major events to attend, I can kick back and relax on most weekends. Christmas ruins all that. There’s just too much to do in too little time. Autumn is the calm before the storm.

5. I can stop sweating. Oh. Did I say that already? I’m just not good in the heat. My hands swell into what my sisters and I like to call "meaty paws" and my feet blow up. That happens all year round, but it’s infinitely worse in the summer. I’m crankier than ever when it’s very hot and I imagine if I was ever pregnant, I would look just like Violet Beauregarde, the bratty girl in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory who chewed the forbidden gum. She blew up into a giant blueberry and the Oompa Loompas had to roll her out to the dejuicing factory. Yeah, it’s that bad.

Until the summer comes again, I’ll be enjoying this great fall weather and hoping my readers are doing the same, wherever you are!

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Before the Great Furniture Hunt, there was the Great HDTV Television Acquisition. I hadn’t really thought much about our new TV until word got out that we had it. I know it’s an awesome set, but I didn’t know how awesome until I mentioned to a few people what we bought.

People — OK, men mostly — would start salivating and pepper me with questions, as though I’d just told them I rode on the Space Shuttle. "Tell us more! Is it just like they say? Is it like you’ve seen God? Two of my colleagues invited themselves over to watch football, and I’m afraid my Dad’s going to want one for Christmas.

For the record, it’s a 46" Sony Bravia Full HD 1080, WCG-CCFL, 7000:1, HDTV with HDMI. I have absolutely no idea what all that means except that the picture is simply gorgeous, especially when viewing HD channels. And that’s all I need to know. The above picture is a shot I took on the actual set. Soak it in, baby. Soak it in.

Buying this TV was very easy. For me, at least. Dave did all the heavy lifting, researching the differences between multiple brands of HD sets, the features offered on all of them, and what add-on purchases you should make for the best possible viewing experience.

When it was time to make the purchase, we went to Tweeter in Whitehall, PA on good authority that they know what they’re talking about and don’t strong-arm you into making a buy. We were pleasantly surprised at how true this turned out to be. I’d give a shout-out to the guy who helped us, but I just can’t remember his name. Sorry, Tweeter Guy.

Here’s how it all started. It could have gone a lot faster, if I wasn’t so annoyed by the stupidest things. The list is long and I sometimes wonder how Dave puts up with me. But that’s a post for another day.

"Kath, now this is the one we should get. It’s the Sony Bravia XBR3. The best."

"I don’t like it."

"Why?"

"It has a shiny frame."

"Huh?"

"See. It has this stupid shiny frame around it and it’s going to annoy me."

"Why?"

"Because I’ll see all the light reflected in it. It’s distracting."

"Oh, for God’s sake. You hate everything, don’t you?"

"And how long have we been married and you don’t know this already? Where’ve you been?"

Now we’re in big trouble because I’m not going to let Dave buy the set he really wanted and we start looking around at all the other models. The ones that don’t have the distracting shiny frame.

Tweeter Guy is just the most patient salesman in the world. He graciously shows us around and explains all the features of the other sets, trying to get us as close as possible to the desired one. But first I make him change to a different movie that’s running on nearly all of them because there happens to be a big bug crawling around in one scene. I can’t look at bugs, real or otherwise. I can’t even look at them in print. Freaks me all out. Dave rolls his eyes. Tweeter Guy is right on it. He can smell a sale and he’ll do whatever it takes.

Once we have the sets showing non-bug-infested movies, I now insist that he show us other channels. The stores will always demonstrate HDTVs in high definition mode for obvious reasons. It just looks so much better. But I need to see how a non-HD channel will look. He puts on the Food Network and now we have a face full of Emeril "BAM!" Lagasse. Ugh. Switch it back to HD, please.

After about an hour of looking at all the sets in the store, and Dave and Tweeter Guy discussing the finer points between them, we finally settle on the Bravia 1080, which has an un-shiny frame. We plunk down a rather large amount of money and off we go.

When the set arrived, Dave gave the delivery guy 25 bucks to set it up and configure the internal settings just right to get the best picture. And what a picture it is.

There is one fact that I’m sure all the actors and actresses in Hollyweird are lamenting with the advent of HDTVs and that’s that their faces look incredibly bad. I urge you, if you buy an HDTV, prepare yourselves for some of your favorite stars looking really awful in high-def. You can see all their flaws and all the makeup they use trying to hide their flaws. HD is brutally unforgiving. I never want to see Larry King in high-def. EVER.

What looks best, of course, are all the HD channels. With our cable provider we get about 20 of them. Regular channels still look better than they did on our old set, so there are improvements there, too. To give you an idea how mesmerizing it is to watch TV in HD, I’ve become a fan of the Discovery HD Theater channel. It features a program called Sunrise Earth which runs a full hour with a camera trained on a single scene in nature.

Yesterday I watched a sequoia tree for fifteen minutes. A tree. For fifteen minutes. Next week they’re airing an episode called Milk Cows in the Morning and next month is Bison before Breakfast. Swear to God. And I’m going to watch it and love it. Think I’m crazy? You go and buy yourself an HDTV and see if you don’t find yourself staring at cows and bison and trees and come back and tell me if it isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in the televised world.

I gotta go. Wildflower Elk just came on.

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Dave and I finally kicked a bad habit. I’ve been trying for months to scale back the amount of bottled water we bring into the house (or at least pay less for it by buying jugs), but Dave was still buying six-pack bottles. I just couldn’t get him to let go. But just last week he announced “That’s it. We’re done with the bottled water!” It’s not because my ranting and raving had any effect. It’s because he heard a report that Pepsi admitted its popular Aquafina brand comes from tap water. Apparently this was the deal-breaker for him.

His motivation to stop was the principle of the thing. Mine was a little more complicated:

1. The money we wasted was staggering. We estimate at three bottles per day each, we were spending between $75 - 105 per month. We at least tried to buy it only when it was on sale. But still the price was through the roof.

2. I became increasingly bothered about how much plastic we were adding to landfills. By the end of the week, the recycling bin was filled to the brim with mostly water bottles.

3. I got so tired of lugging it around. You have to cart it at the store, lift it on the scanner, throw it in the car, take it out of the car, then refrigerate it. Then we’d take bottles back to the car to take to work every day. My arms and back were getting tired.

The only reason we ever bought bottled water was for the taste, so we invested 25 bucks in a Brita 10-cup Deluxe Water Filter Pitcher, which we’re very pleased with. It’s easy to fill, fits perfectly in the fridge and the water tastes every bit as good as Aquafina. Even with the cost of filters (about $20 for an eight month supply), we’re coming out ahead. We broke the chains of bottled water, and man, does it feel great.

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I guess it’s true when you turn 40, you start trying to figure out how you can change the things you hate about yourself and start all over again. For me, it was coming to terms with my curly hair. For my entire life, I’ve spent thousands of hours fighting against the curl in front of a mirror, mostly with various hair dryers and assorted utensils trying to blow dry it straight. It never helped that other women told me how jealous they were that I had such beautiful curls. I wanted thick, straight hair that would actually move when my head did!

But when I hit the big 4-0, I finally decided enough was enough and started to listen to my friends and sisters when they suggested I learn to love my curls. I found a great stylist (Karen at The Artisan, 1222 W. Broad St., Bethlehem), thanks to my sister Marlene’s referral. For all the years of tears and anguish over hating my hair, I wasn’t done yet. There I sat in the chair, crying again. I just couldn’t imagine how she was going to get me to agree to “go curly” and convince me it would look right. But Karen turned out to be my hair’s new best friend. The first thing she told me was to grow it longer. I’d been seeing a different stylist for years, who told me it looked best short. I went like that for a good long while, believing she knew what she was talking about. It surprised me that I could have long hair again, AND it would look good in a curly style.

So my first visit with Karen was more a consultation than anything else. She did trim a little, but told me to come back when it grew another inch or so. When I did, she shaped it up nicely and then taught me how to “finger style it” without using much hot air from a dryer. Curly-haired women, I suppose, do have it good. But only if they know how to style it right. Here’s a site that covers the “must do’s” for your do.

Go forth and love your curls!

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