Of course, I'm weird...

... isn't everyone? I guess we all have our eccentricities, but not everyone embraces them like I do. I've always enjoyed being different (even in high school when it just wasn't cool to be different) and strive to be. Being a little weird gets you noticed, and as long as you're not too weird, it can draw people to you.

And now for a tag: Selena tagged me, and while I usually don't post tags, memes and awards, this one attracted me because it is about being weird. (I don't normally post them, because I fear that it will repel people rather than attract them.)

Rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself. (C'mon, embrace your weirdness.)
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

7 weird facts about me that you might not know:

1. I obsessively apply hand lotion, maybe ten or more times a day. Every time my hands get wet, I use lotion.

2. When I left my first husband, I moved out while he was at work and left him a note. It may seem cowardly, but it was what worked for me at the time. I didn't take much, so it wasn't like he came home to an empty house. The knowledge of this fact may keep my current husband on his toes, not that he has anything to worry about.

3. I self-correct my grammar when I speak. I will sometimes say the same thing over the correct way when I make a mistake. I loved grammar in school. I can still remember a little bit about diagramming a sentence. This doesn't mean that I want you to leave me comments pointing out all my grammatical mistakes.

4. I have watched The Young and The Restless since it started in 1973 (I was 8 years old). When I was in school, I only watched during vacations but my mom watched and told me what happened. When I was working, I took my lunch hour during the show and went to my mom's house to watch it.

5. I love to alphabetize things. My CDs and LPs are in alphabetical order by artist, my DVDs by title, even my spices are in alphabetical order. My books used to be, but now I have too many so they're organized by genre and/or author.

6. I hope to observe an autopsy someday. If I was 18 again, I would definitely go into that line of work. I'd never want to be a doctor of live people though. I couldn't stand all the complaining, and I would find all that bedside manner stuff to be tiresome. I also wouldn't have to worry about my patients suing me for malpractice if I did autopsies.

7. I love the smell of cow manure. I don't think it smells bad at all... just sort of fresh and grassy.

I am tagging Kitt, Ellen, Molly, Allison, Laurie, Amy and Becky. If you don't want to do this, you will not receive bad luck, and I will keep reading your blogs and making comments. And if I didn't follow every rule, may the meme gods not strike me down.

Once in a Lifetime Opportunity

Have you always wanted to own your very own firetruck? Perhaps Junior has asked for a firetruck for Christmas? Here's your chance. And it's a ladder truck!! Could come in handy for cleaning those second story windows or getting that pesky cat out of the tree for the umpteenth time. You'd have no trouble getting through rush hour traffic. The handy uses for this purchase are endless. I'll bet you could get a great discount on homeowners' insurance if you owned your own firetruck. I vaguely remember growing up that someone in our neighbor drove a used hearse, but this would have that beat.

Long Time, No Thrift?

It's been a long time since I done a thrifting post, but I'm out there regularly looking for good deals.

One day, I came upon lots of craft supplies. Either someone had given up crafting or had died, because there was a lot of stuff. Mostly, I grabbed jewelry making supplies which were a steal at 50 or 75 cents each. I also picked up some colored pipe cleaners, glitter glue and glow-in-the-dark fabric paint.

The same day I found this great fabric. It's really soft, but sturdy. The swirls are silver. I think there are a couple of yards. I was thinking of making a bag or a pillow from it, but there might be enough for both.

I've been looking at glassware a lot on my thrifting expeditions. I'm trying my hand at glass painting. I can't feel too badly about designs that don't come out well when I'm only spend 25 or 50 per glass. (I'll write more on this another time.) But while looking at glass, I found this antique utility pole insulator. I've been wanting one for a long time, but have only found chipped ones or boring clear glass. This one was in mint condition and in a color I adore. It was only $2, which was cheaper than I usually see the damaged ones.

Most of my thrifting time is spent looking at clothes, but my recent results have been spotty. I did find this Barbour wool hat, that looks brand new. It didn't photograph well. The flash made it look shiny, but it was too dark for natural light. It's a beautiful olive green. At $8, it was a little pricey by thrift standards, but when I looked it up on line and found out they retail for about $125, I had no buyer's remorse.

My best find recently didn't come from a thrift store, but from one of those discount surplus or overstock stores. Pipsqueak saw this coat and got all excited about it. It's a Rothschild and 100% wool. The price tag was $32, which I really didn't want to pay. I noticed a small spot on the shoulder, so I thought they might discount it a bit. Then I noticed the signs up in the clothing department. All clothing was 50% off the ticket price. At $16, I tossed it my cart, spot by damned. At the checkout, the clerk and I had the following dialogue:

Clerk: This has a spot.

Me: I know, but it's 50% off, right?

Clerk: Yes, but it has a spot.

At this point, she called the manager over who offered the "damaged" coat at $9. Of course, I said yes. It was hard not to do a happy dance right there in the store. The spot came out with a Tide-to-Go pen, and on-line research revealed that Rothschild coats retail for $125 and up.

Tomorrow, Pipsqueak has a dentist appointment right around the corner from my favorite thrift store. The prospect of a hunt will fill my dreams tonight.

Updates

It occurred to me that I had a few things on which to update you. Not that you're sitting there on tenterhooks wondering what's going on with me, but you may say, "Oh yeah, I remember that."

My pickles came out a little on the salty side, but otherwise had good flavor. I would like them more crispy, too, so next year I'll do the ice water soak and cut down on the salt.

My garden was an overall success with few failures. The green peppers and the beets didn't do well. Next year, I need to use more fertilizer. The yellow thing did become a pumpkin, but it was much darker orange than the other pumpkins.

I finished my other sock. They are so comfy and cozy. Now I'm rushing to finish a pair for Sweetie and a pair for Pipsqueak for Christmas. I'm just turning the heel on the first one for Sweetie and closing the toe on the first one for Pipsqueak. The race is on!

I have reduced my use of bags, but I sometimes forget my reusables at home. My plan is to just leave some in the car, but when I use them, I have to remember to put them back in the car again.

I made the Chocolate Tart, which was delicious, but a little runny. I'm sure I can do better if I try it again. Chocolate recipes, especially, need a lot of research to get them just right. Don't you agree?

My sister-in-law is getting her second chemo treatment today. She's having chemo prior to surgery so they can monitor its effect on the the tumor. Great news! With only one treatment, her tumor has already significantly shrunk. She cut her long blond hair in a punk style and dyed it orange. She says she looks like the Heat Miser. I think she looks very hip. Since it's now coming out in clumps, she's going to take it all off soon.

I haven't had any heel pain in a couple of weeks. I'm still wearing my padding innersoles, but I think my heel has healed.

Consider yourself up-to-date. I'm sure you'll be able to sleep better tonight knowing how all these things turned out. Seriously, thank you all for reading and commenting. I love reading your blogs; you all inspire me. I hope we'll all have long and beautiful blog-lives together.

Just Can't Get No Satisfaction

When I make things, I'm usually never completely satisfied. It sometimes prevents me from finishing things. When I knit, I might make a stitch that looser than the rest or maybe one got twisted. Instead of looking at the whole project, I just look at that stitch that isn't right and it ruins the whole thing for me. When I paint, maybe a color isn't quite the shade I was hoping for or a part of the picture is a little too big or small. It just didn't turn out the way I pictured it in my head. When I bead, maybe a wire twist isn't smooth enough or a loop not tight enough. Even when I cook, I critique myself on taste, texture and presentation. I wish I could step back and say to myself, "Self, you did a really good job," but I can't. Sometimes I feel like I got it right, but it's rare.

I think this is hard wired in the brain and not learned. I see Pipsqueak doing this already... criticizing her artwork. I've been very careful not to voice my dissatisfaction with myself in her presence, I accept compliments of my work graciously, and I've always been complimentary of her work. Like me, she doesn't hate the whole thing, only a part of it. For example, she drew this picture the other day, which I thought was amazing for a 6 year old, and I told her that. She told me she didn't like the flamingo's wing fluffed up the way it is.

Are we different or is everyone like this? What about the masters? Was Beethoven happy with his symphonies? Was Michelangelo satisfied with the Sistine Chapel?

It's official... I am middle aged.

I noticed it starting to happen about three years ago, but I fought it for as long as I could. Today, I picked up my new glasses with variable lenses. Those are hip, modern, no-line bifocals.

Sweetie laughed at my work-around of peering over the tops of my prior glasses while holding the unreadable print so close, my nose practically touched it. I couldn't see to make jewelry, and knitting while watching tv was almost impossible. I knew I couldn't put it off any longer.

Presbyopia (Greek word "presbys" (πρέσβυς), meaning "old person") describes the condition where the eye exhibits a progressively diminished ability to focus on near objects with age. Geez, did they have to call it THAT! What's next? Hearing aids, a walker, flowered house dresses?

Thank you, Sir Alexander Fleming.

Who's he?  In 1928, Sir Alexander Fleming observed that colonies of the bacterium Staphylococcus aureus could be destroyed by the mold Penicillium notatum, proving that there was an antibacterial agent there in principle.  That was the birth of antibiotics.  It would be 20 years before they would be available to the public.  Today, I am very happy that they are.

After suffering with a bad cough for 10 days, I went to the doctor yesterday.  When I say "bad cough", I mean it.  It was the kind of cough that turns you inside out and your not sure if you're going to throw up or give yourself a brain aneurysm.  I am well aware of those super bugs, and I don't want antibiotics if they aren't necessary, but if the doctor told me I had a virus and would have to ride it out, I thought I might slap him.  Luckily, he didn't;  I have bronchitis.

About 10 hours after my first dose, it was like someone flipped a switch... no more rattle in my chest and my cough was milder and less body wracking.  Today, I could actually get off the couch and do something for longer than 10 minutes.  

We are lucky to be living now... a time when there are medical weapons to fight bacteria.  (I hope we'll never live to see a time where those weapons are rendered useless.)  Medical advancements are being made all the time.  I was reminded of this when I was reading "Little House on the Prairie" to Pipsqueak.  The whole Ingalls family was in bed with fever n' ague for days.   They thought they got it from eating watermelon grown in the creek beds.  Really, it was malaria from mosquitoes.  That was a dangerous time to be alive.  I supposed we've got bigger threats now: terrorists, weapons of mass destruction, and all that. The life expectancy in the late 1800s was about age 50.  I think I like our odds.