Dads Holiday Past You know when the holidays are coming up. The fliers start showing up in the mail, the kids are talking about what they want to get this year, parents are outside putting up the decorations and figuring out their budgets on how much can they spend this year.
No, I am not talking about Christmas. I'm talking about the other biggest holiday of the year – Halloween. I remember when I was little and spending hours with my dad, hanging up all kinds of decorations. The more the better. Hanging those streams of Halloween lights, sending out Halloween photocards to family and friends with a picture of me and my brother in our favorite costumes that we bought at the Halloween Store that only opens during this time of year. My brother in his $80.00 spider man costumes, and me in my $150.00 Lord of the Rings Gollum costumes (he was big that year) and of course all the accessories. Boy, were we the cutest duo or what? I remember every year going to the County Pumpkinfest, where there were thousands of hand-carved, illuminated jack-o’-lanterns which covered the grounds of the entire farm. We took a hay ride to get out there, passing apple orchards, pumpkin fields and seeing all the bright orange lights, It was really pretty cool. Then racing home that night with our pumpkins that we just bought for 20-30 bucks and dad looking up on the internet of an image of Spiderman for my brother to engrave onto his pumpkin, and me probably picking out Freddy Kruger, or something in that vein. Dad usually worked so hard so he can make these pumpkins look award worthy. They never did come out like the ones at the county pumpkinfest, but it sure was fun carving them up. I love Halloween. But not everyone agrees with me on the spirit of this holiday. Which, by the way, would be my dad. Every year, he complains about the same ol same ol Halloween issues. This year was no different. I went to my parents house for dinner the other night and when we all sat down at the table, I had to open my big fat mouth and asked dad a question. “Dad, when are you putting up the Halloween decorations? I noticed everyone has their up already.” My mother just looked at me with the look she usually gives me to tell me to shut up. Mothers have these different looks and you know exactly which each look means. But it was too late, dad started. “You know Jay, when I was kid, Halloween wasn't always like this, we went down to the supermarket down the street, picked out a warped looking pumpkin and then carved it the weekend before Halloween, yea it was all rotted by Halloween, but we didn't care. Everyone had the same pumpkin, two diamond shaped eyes, one diamond shaped nose and a big mouth with crooked teeth. Which, by the way, we carved it ourselves, no help from anyone. No, they didn't look like Martha Stewarts but we didn't care, that's all we knew. No tracing, engraving, nothing, we did the whole thing from memory. Plus, Hanging up spooky Halloween decorations in the trees outside our house would have never even occurred to us. Yea, we displayed our pumpkins on the front porch full of pride, but that was it. Except some years when we were more ambitious, we would stuff our dads clothes with newspaper to make a dummy and sat him up in a chair holding one of the pumpkins, but other then that, we were good to go. Costumes, lets talk about that. We had no 'Spiderman' or some 'lord of the ring' guy, we had these stupid plastic masks that had an electric band that hurt our faces and we could hardly see out of them, not even breath. But we would put them on, and we were done. That was it. When we went trick-or-treating, we were lucky if we got two or three candy bars the whole night. I remember my mom and us putting three pieces of candy corn in a little paper bag with a monster on it. “Don't forget, 3 corns per bag kids” she would continue to remind us as we bagged them, and I don't remember anyone of us complaining. When we left the house for the night, we would be out till really late, we were out trying to score as much candy as possible. We knew the good houses, the ones that gave the candy bars and we would hit those houses like two or three times, and we just exchanged parts of our costumes with each other so they wouldn't recognize us. It was that one day a year that we could get ourselves into a little mischief and take some eggs from the fridge and have egg fights. We knew our mom would just say “well, it's Halloween”. Yea, it was fun egging people, but even more so, getting egged. We wore our yolk as a badge of honor.” Dad continued on with his dismay about what Halloween turned into and I just eventually tuned him out. “Mom, can you pass the potatoes?” Is pretty much all I said when he started in again. “Sure dear” mom said. Then dad took a breath and then started up again. “Since when did Halloween get blown into this major holiday like Christmas? Now, if the retailers can exploit this simple holiday, which by the way, I don't even think is a real holiday, what other holidays are they going to do this to? The Kennedy's up the road are now buying their kids presents for the Summer Solstice? Mike said to me last month “how are you decorating your house for Arbor day?” When is enough enough?” Dads voice raised. Then my mother chimes in, “Oh, I almost forgot, we got an invitation to attend Jane's Oscar night party. I'll have to tack the invite on the fridge so I remember it, it's next year. I love how she puts out a red carpet on her front lawn. She is so creative. And then that strobe light to make you feel like paparazzi are taking pictures of you. That Jane is so clever.” Dad wasn't going to let this one go. “yea, Jane, she is one of the problems, making these stupid events into a major holiday and then the retailers decide that they can make money from it and actually create invites specifically for the 'Oscars parties' that these people put on. What is wrong with these people buying this crap” “Calm down Bill, its only Halloween, you always get stressed out around this time of year, just try to relax and enjoy the holidays, maybe you have that seasonal effective disorder or something” Mom says. Dad had to get one last word in, “well, its ridiculous, I just don't understand it. Money, just thrown down the drain. Stupid people falling for it, like Jane”. “I know Bill, it really has gone a little over the top. Oh, Since we are on subject of holidays, how did Donna like the neck massage that we got her for Ground Hog day?” My mom asked “oh yea, she loved it, she always wanted one.” Dad said while cutting his steak. “Oh, that's great.” She said smiling. “Mom, can you pass the butter?” I asked. Brian gets political Brian, my roommate, and I decided to do a little food shopping together. This is something that we both dread doing because we want different things. Plus, we never agree on anything, even which line to go to cash out on. I always prefer the 'self check out' which Brian insists that people will lose their jobs and will always go to the ones that have the cashiers. Truth is, Brian like the cashier line because he always messes up on the self check out. (Ill post about that in the near future)
I do get it, the whole employment thing, but when you're in a rush, or shopping with Brian, the fastest and easiest way out of this hell, is doing the 'self check out.' At that moment, I really don't care about the stats of unemployment in our country. Which Brian lets me know about each and every time we go shopping together. As we head to the check out, I noticed there was no one in line on self checkout. “come on, lets go here, there is no line...hurry” “Jay, did you know that per the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics , both the unemployment rate, 6.1% and the number of unemployed people, 9 million, changed just a little over time. Over the year, the unemployment rate and the number of unemployed persons were down by 1.1% points and 1.7 million, and blah blah blah.......” SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I said in my head) I don't even know what the heck he is talking about. “OK. Lets go to the cashier, there are only 10 people in that line.” I would agree with Brian on this whole unemployment thing, but that's only if there was one person in the cashier line, but there wasn't. As Brian continued to yap on about the unemployment and the economy, I tuned him out like I usually do (the advantages of ADHD, it's real easy to tune anything out) and do what I am really good at. To judge people. I have decided to write a list of the beautiful people that go to the cashier at the supermarket. First up at bat is the 'Coupon Clipper'. You know her, you've seen her in the aisle. She is the one who is carrying around one of those plastic file portable file cabinets. As she enters the beltway, you can hear a collective groan among the others waiting in line. You know what they are all thinking by the expression on their faces. After everything is rung up, she places her file cabinet on the belt and tries to figure out what section her specific coupons were placed in. ONE BY ONE. “oh, here is one” she states with utter enthusiasm. “uh, that expired last year” Yawns the cashier, clearly agitated herself with the 'coupon clipper'. As organized as the 'Coupon Clipper' thinks she is, she never seems to go through the expired ones. One after the other.....rejected. We wait. Once rung up, she has saved herself 25 cents. She walks away with this stupid grin on her face, like it was all worth it. She thinks she is on the TLC show “Extreme Couponing.” Next up at bat we have the 'Patient Purchaser'. This little gem seems to have all the time in the world. She stands there, waiting. The cashier is ringing up her items, she just waits. “150.00 dollars Mame” Does this 'Patient Purchaser' then start rummaging through her purse now? No, of course not, she waits until all her bags are bagged then she will take that as her cue to actually finally open up her purse. As the cashier stands there chewing her gum, the 'patient purchaser' is in her purse looking for her money. Why she cant take her money out, or at least start digging before the cashier hits 'total', is only known by the 'patient purchaser'. Is she a passive aggresive type? Or is she just a 'patient purchaser' with no where to go but home? The other odd trait of the 'patient purchaser', if she didn't have the cash, she will then decide to buy with a credit card, and wouldn't you know it, she seems to have at least 30 cards. Maybe she has ODD, but it seems she has to look and touch each one. She's Probably trying to figure out how much she actually charged on each of these 30 cards. She is probably one of those compulsive shoppers and goes to debt anonymous and I have just witnessed a relapse in progress. Brian looks at me. “see, we're moving” Next up at bat we have whom I like to call, 'the exact changer' Got to love this one. This fool clearly has something wrong with her. They check every single pocket and pretty much dumps the content of her purse onto the belt with hopes of finding the pennies that loosely were dropped in there from some change she got 2 weeks ago. “oh wait, can you give me a second, I have some change in my ashtray in my car” Need I say more. Next up is my favorite shopper, which I like to call 'the donor' You will always find this person right behind the 'exact changer'. This person always has the pennies that they need to get them the hell out of the store. You don't even have to witness 'the donor' in action, but you know they are there due to the round of applause from everyone in line. Got to love the donor!!!!!!!!!!!! Next up we have 'the oops people' This is the asshole who places all her items on the belt and then right before the cashier hits total, you hear.... “oops, I forgot the milk” and off she goes. The cashier chewing her gum just looks, give an eye roll and says “I cant delete her items, we will have to wait.” As we count the minutes, it seems the oops person saw a friend from her kids school and had this need to discuss what happened at the last PTA meeting that, oops, she forgot about it. I bet she missed it because she was waiting in line at the supermarket behind another oops person. Connect the dots people. When she finally realized, she says to her friend, “oops, I got to go, I am at the cashier”. What I cant stand about this oops person is that she never even apologizes to us, yea, she says sorry to the cashier who couldn't care less, she got a free coffee break out of it, but were the ones on line with important things that we have to do. As the cashier is ringing up her milk, the 'oops person' cell phone rings, and she picks it up. As she was walking out the door, the only word I heard pretty clearly was...PTA Next up we have little ol Martha. What is up with old people and their check books. I like to call them the 'check writers' or 'Marthas' because I know that's their name. Who the hell pays by check anymore, oh, that would be Martha. “Martha, the check you just wrote you made it payable to 'stop and shop', but we are 'Shaws' supermarket” “oh dear, I'm sorry, here you go sweetie” Says Martha in her cute little old lady voice. “Martha, we have a problem, this check is from out of state, we can'taccept out of state checks.” “oh dear, alright then” And out the door Martha goes, leaving all her items on the belt. Cashier reaches for her Microphone: “ABANDONED ITEMS, CASHIER 4" Now we have the most obnoxious person on the line. This person I would like to call 'the 'stand up'. Now, I know it seems that I have been blaming everything on women, but I call it as I see it. The 'stand up' however is always a guy. He thinks his one-liners are worth the attention of a talent scot As we all are waiting, the 'stand up' decides it's time to entertain us with his wit. “I would have brought something to munch on if I knew it was going to take this long, ha ha ha” “there are folks setting up tents at the end of the line, ha ha ha” “I was really young when I got here. Ha ha ha” We all just smile at this guy because we really just want the fucker dead. But he is so ignorant, he doesn't even notice it. But wait, we have someone waiting in the wings. I LOVE this person. He is known as 'the silencer'. This guys job in life is just to let the 'stand up' know, to shut the hell up. Next up at bat we have the haggler. This moron feels that he has to bargain with the cashier, like she cares or even have anything to do with the prices in the store. “I saw in the flyer it was 50% off” says the haggler “that was last weeks flier sir” Cashier answers “yea, but I got it this week” The haggler knows it was last weeks flier and the coupons have all been expired, but that doesn't stop him. He is determined to try to get a discount. “you know, this cantaloup really doesn't look that fresh. I'll take it if you take 20% off, what do you say?” The haggler doesn't give up, each item he will find something wrong and try to bargain with the cashier. “look at these tomatoes, some of them are way to soft, how about taking just 10% off” The cashier, clearly annoyed, calls the manager over. “sorry sir, we cant do that.” says the manager Then the Haggler throws the bag of tomatoes at the manager and out the door he goes. The cashier reaches for her Mic: "ABANDONED ITEMS, CASHIER 4" Last but not least, we have Brian. “Hi, did you get everything you need sir” the cashier asks. “yes, we did, thank you for asking” As we put all our belongings in the bags and get ready to get the hell out of there. We hear our cashier over her mic say: "CLEAN UP AT CASHIER 4, MELTED ICE CREAM.” ©jayurban2014 original work of authorship Pizza right out of the oven I went to the grocery store to buy some, well, groceries. I came across something that looked pretty good. It was this fresh unbaked pizza. It was cheaper then those already made frozen ones and it must taste better because it's made daily and it's fresh. Plus, it says 15 min to cook, much quicker to just throw it an oven than a carry-out-pizza.
I swear to you, I think the guy that makes the pizza at 'Krusty's Krust Italian Pizza' that has the thick Italian accent, is not even Italian, I would bet he was born and raised in Somerville. Not sure why I needed to mention that, but I just felt the need to. Anyway, So when I got home, I went to the kitchen and decided I was in the mood for some,you guessed it, pizza. Yummy.. Just as I was taking the plastic off, Brian, my roommate came in. “which ya doin?” “I'm making dinner. You want some some?” “yea” So, as I sat there waiting for the buzzer to go off to let me know it was time to put the pizza in, I read the big block letters that said 'EXTRA LARGE'. hmmmm...they weren't kidding, it is kinda a pretty big pizza. The directions says to put the pizza right on the oven rack. So I opened the oven door. “Brain, What the hell, you never cleaned the cheese and crap from the oven when you cooked last time.” He is so disgusting. “oh, yea, I was in a rush. It's cool” Everything is always 'cool' with Brian. Oh well, I'll just stick it on the rack like the directions say, I don't want to take any chances. This pizza is looking good. I noticed that the pizza was pretty flimsy, just like real pizza. I guess that's what they mean when they say fresh. So I took the cardboard off and started to put it in the top rack of the oven, the sides kept flopping down and then the cheese started falling to the bottom of the oven. I quickly ran and got a dishcloth to wipe it up, but I guess, once that cheese hits the hot oven it was there to stay. It bubbled, melted and then started to burn. Oh crap, what do I do now? The oven is already a mess, thanks to Brian, so I decided to just let the pizza bake. There really wasn't much I could do, plus It only takes 15 minutes to cook. I'll just shut the oven door and keep the smoke and smell inside the oven. OH, just in case anyone was wondering, ovens are not air tight. The smoke started pouring out of the oven and the whole kitchen started to fill up with smoke.. "Dude, What are you doing?" Brian asked. "I don't know, the cheese melted in the oven and made a huge mess and now it caught fire and its smoking!". Of coursed I blamed Brian for it, if he only cleaned the oven. Then it dawned on me. "OMG, THE FIRE ALARM" I take the dish rag and wave it up by the fire alarm to prevent it for going off. The smoke just kept pouring out. "Hey Brian, open the outside door before the smoke alarm goes off. And lock the cat and dog in the bedroom before they run outside." I just continue waving the dish rag. Brian put the animals in the bedroom and then opened the door, but that didn't do much good because all of a sudden, the smoke alarm went off. God I hate that noise. It is so loud and piercing. “JAY, SHUT THE DAMN THING OFF” "I CANT REMEMBER THE CODE? WHATS THE CODE" Apparently you need a code to shut the stupid thing off, the landlord liked to keep all his 'tenants safe' . I liked the fire alarms I had in my last apartment, they were battery operated and we just took out the battery and that was that. I know, I know, shut up. Then we hear this weird voice. “What's your emergency?" The security voice chimes in. "NO EMERGENCY, I JUST CANT REMEMBER THE CODE." We started to punch in every code that we thought of when we moved in. the phone number, license plate, email password, my mother's maiden name, my first dogs name, my childhood friend......nothing, nothing worked. "WHATS THE CODE?" I yelled at the security operator. "We don't store your code sir, only the homeowner knows." Oh, great, the alarm continued to blast. “Jay, what do we do now, Do we have to listen to this all night, I wont get any sleep. What if we can never shut it off, we will have to listen to it forever.” “Brian, chill out. We wont have to listen to this forever. Worse scenario we will just move out and leave the alarm going. Just shut up and let me think” Finally, in a brilliant flash I remembered the code. "Try this!" I said, yelling the code out. 'YEA, IT WORKED!!!!!!!!!!!” Brian yelled. Silence, finally. There was peace through out the land. We called the landlord and told him we were all set. Then Brian asks "hey Jay, so, whats for dinner?” “Pizza, it's fresh, just take a knife and scrap off the burn parts, oh, you might want to put a little cheese on it, it tastes better with cheese.” Cell Phone Caper I kept thinking about what to write about next, but I got to tell you, Brian, my roommate, just can't stop giving me material. The day he moves out or when I move out, I will be in need of another innocent Victim to exploit.
But until then... Last weekend, Brian, Fawn, his girlfriend, and I, were leaving a party at our friends house. Can I digress for a moment, whats up with naming your kid after a deer, I can just picture her parents looking at her with loving eyes and saying “by God, she looks like a freaking deer, are these antlers coming out of her head?”. Probably more like horns. Oh, her brothers name is Lucifer, you do the math..... Nah, I'm only kidding! I like Fawn, unlike his last girlfriend, which I can write blog after blog on that nut case. So know hes dating fawn, the deer. Now where was I? Oh Yea, leaving the party. Brian has this habit of losing his cell phone. I can't even tell you how many times he yells “STOP!!!!!!!!! I LOST MY CELL PHONE” Its actually gotten to the point where its almost comical, at least I think it is. So, driving home from the party, Brian is in the passenger seat, Fawn in the backseat, (I can't write that name without laughing) and I'm driving, and that's when he yells “MY CELL PHONE IS MISSING!” . "relax" I told him. I handed Brian my phone and told him to call the number and maybe someone will answer. But the phone just rang and rang until the message picked up. Just to give you an idea on how many times Brian has lost his cell phone, this is his message. “Hello, I'm home right now but cannot find the phone. Please leave a message and I will call you back as soon as I find it.” Pretty sad, huh? Fawn, the deer, chimes in from the back seat “Maybe you left it at the office?” Brian just looks at her and gives her the evil eye look. You know the look, the one that says "you're are such an asshole" You would think Fawn is the one that lost his cell phone. “OK, go back to the party so I can get my phone” He said. “You know, I didn't even see you with a phone all day. Are you positive you had it? Maybe you just left it at home again” “yea, I'm sure, I don't go anywhere without my phone”. WOOOO, hold on....that's not true. "well, you don't have it now." Now I got the evil eye look. Fawn, the deer, and I, just looked at each other, he hardly ever has his cell phone because hes always losing it. How can he 'always' have his phone when a big chunk of his day is looking for the darn thing. We drove back to the party and he ran in. Fawn, the deer, and I sat in the car. “Did you notice if Brian had his cell?” I asked “I don't think he did, the last time I saw him with it, we were in the office.” Brian returned -- phoneless. “It wasn’t there. Help me look, I might of dropped it outside” So we all got out of the car, looked in the driveway, looked up and down the street to back track our steps. But we couldn't find it and we all finally gave up. “When is the last time you used it? Are you sure you didn't leave it at home? ” I asked. "I would know if I left my phone at home, I know I had it at the party." he said in an angry tone. When we pulled in the driveway, he says “lets look around here, it might of fell out of my pocket”. I don't want to mention the fact that he just said he was positive that he had at the party, because if he was so positive, then why would be looking for it over here. But I kept my mouth shut on that logic. So we just looked some more for his cell phone. Nope, gone. We walked in the front door, and there, in the middle of the table was his cell phone. “There it is, it was here the whole time”....ha ha ha, Brian laughs. Fawn, the deer, and I just looked at each other. We really didn't find it that funny. I remember when he lost it the last time, he swore up and down that it was in the office. We searched the whole office building for hours. We ended up finding the phone under his bed. Battery dead of course. But it was too late, it was disconnected and replaced already with a new phone. Another time I found it when I was walking the dog, just lying there on the wet grass. Of course it was over 2 weeks missing and Brian already bought a new phone.. Brian always gets insurance on his phones in case he loses it. The problem, even with insurance, you can only get a phone replaced a certain amount of times until they look at you and decide they no longer want your business. AT&T told him..."Hey, sprint is paying you to get out of your contract, why don't you check them out." But lets be real, this is not a Brian problem, this is an everybody problem. People lose these things all the time. And that is why they now have these GPS trackers built into the phone so you can locate your phone whenever you lose it, and trust me, at some point, you will lose it. This GPS actually seemed like a good idea, but it only tells you where it is in the 'general area', not really the spot where your phone is. I suppose that's okay, but the area it covers is a 5x5 mile ratio. So Good luck with that. Plus, you have to pay extra for this thing to be activated each month. I personally don't think its worth it, when you could save that money and then just buy a new one when you lose your old one . I wish I could give Brain some ideas on how not to lose his phone, but I don't have any, other then just be careful. “JAY, WE GOT TO GO!!! COME ON...........” Brian is yelling from the next room. “OK, BE RIGHT THERE! YOU GOT YOUR PHONE?” “YEA ASSHOLE, I AM ALL SET, LETS GO!!!!!!!!!” Well, I guess this leads me too yet another ending 'of life with Brian'. (hey, wasn't that a monty python movie? It wasn't planned, really, it just came out that way. I can be so clever sometimes, I cant stand myself.) So I grab my keys and wallet form the table..... “HEY BRIAN, DID YOU SEE MY CELL PHONE?” No, not baseball bats, but flying bats. I live by a park with an open field. Every night when I get home from work, I take my dog out for a walk. I love my dog.
Lately though there has been an absorbent amount of bats by the park and they usually come out at sunset. You can see them flying from tree to tree and they are pretty darn quick. But this strange thing happened to me when I was walking my dog last night, there appeared to be more bats then usual. As we headed into the field, I noticed they were kind of flying pretty low. I mean they always flew low, but this was lower then usual. So my dog was doing 'his business', enough said on that, when this thing flew so close to my face, I could actually feel a little breeze as he flew by. As I bent over to pick up my dogs 'gifts', another one came flying by, missing my head about an inch. I started to get a little freaked out, so I took the dog and said 'it's time we get out of here'. As I was walking to get out of the park, another and another bat started to fly by my house, one actually hit my head. I felt like I was in that Hitchcock movie, 'the birds'. The faster I walked, the quicker they came. I started running and they started flying, that I had to start swiping the darn bats away. Even though I know they are harmless, I couldn't help but think that maybe I disturbed their nest, that's even if bats have nests. I don't know. So I left the park, and all was quiet, and as I looked back as the sun was going down, I can see their small little fluttering bodies flying amok in the sky. I think tonight I'll walk my dog in the opposite direction and deal with the horrible neighbors who peek out their windows to see if I am going to 'pick it up'. +Flying-bats +Bats +Humor +Dog-walking +Bats-attack Yet another dating story.
I have been dating this girl, Sarah, my on again/ off again girlfriend, for quite a few years. We met each other in freshman year in college. Nothing serious, never will be. She's the type of girl that always points out my faults. I can never do anything right, but like a worn shoe, she is just comfortable and so predictable. (mental note: never tell her about bubblews) Like clockwork, when either of us get's bored, one of us always ends up calling each other. “are you dating anyone?” “no, are you? “no, you want to go out?” Doesn't matter who said what, we have both called with the same scenario. “So, where do you want to go?” Sarah asks. "I don't know, where ever you want to go, somewhere that serves food preferable." I answered. I'm pretty easy when it comes to these type of things. “why can't you just pick a place, you always do this, I should of known better.” Here it COMES!!!!!!!!!!!!! “What are you talking about?” I asked. She then needed to explain exactly what she was talking about and what I do wrong, and blah blah blah. I just tune her out after a while and say, 'OK....OK......OK' She said “You have no problem letting me know about each sports game that is coming on, no problem telling me what shows to watch on TV, but for some reason, when it comes to picking a stupid restaurant, you cant decide, you can never decide on anything”. Why she gets frustrated is beyond me, you would think she would be happy I am so easy going that I would let her pick the restaurant or any other place she wants to go. It happens all the time, I could just hand her the script. “OK, lets go to olive garden?” she says. “nah, to many carbs, I'm working out again” “OK, lets go to 'fish-a-hook”. Why she suggest fish-a-hook is beyond me, she knows I hate fish. “fish, I hate fish” “okay, what about Billy's Bar and Grill, you love that place” “nah, that's in the city, too far, it's a weeknight, can we go somewhere closer ” “Lets see, how about Victorias” “That's a gourmet dinner, I can't afford that” "well, WHY DON'T YOU PICK THEN!" I can hear in her tone, she was getting a little hostile. "Don't know why you are getting upset, I told you, I don't care, where ever you want to go is fine with me?" Geeee she makes everything so complicated. This conversation goes on and on. But like clock work, we always end up at Cracker-Barrell, it's not like we like Cracker Barrell, but she can order her 'whatever it is she likes' and I can order a steak-dinner. You would think, after this much time, she would just suggest it in the first place. Girls, geeeshhhhh. I just can't figure them out. So during our not so delicious dinner she asks “what do you want to do this weekend?” “oh, I don't care, whatever you want” She gets up and says “this is the reason I can't be with you” “huh, what the hell did I say?” I asked as she stormed off. Girls, why do I bother? hmmmm, the Patriots are playing against the Vikings this Sunday. Have to remember to buy some of those nachos that I like. Up early this morning waiting for daylight to continue cleaning my storage bedrooms, which I call Hoarders' Heaven. I've completed the house, garage and yard in my unending quest for a clean home. I don't know how it got so bad.
Brian, my roommate, and I (or is it 'and me', whatever) decided to go shopping for some house crap. You know, stuff to hang on walls, sit on, things like that. We are getting tired of looking like we live as squatters in an abandoned home. Hey, WE PAY RENT damn it. Lets live like we do.
So I was walking around the home goods section of the store and I came across this clock. It reminded me of my mothers favorite clock in my home. It brought up a lot of good memories, so I decided that I just had to buy it. It was a 'talking bird clock'. Basically what it is, that instead of the numbers, you get pictures of birds and when the hour hand hits them, the bird starts to chirp. Pretty cool huh? What can be more homier then that. I love birds, I have two bird feeders in my backyard that the birds come to feed. (mental note: Put seeds in bird feeder, its been 6 months since the poor birds had any food). I got to tell you, you would think the Patriots have won the super bowl. (I'm a New Englander so don't start, uh uh, did I lose some followers?), I was so excited on my find I hardly could contain myself. I ran through the store looking for Brian, who I found him sitting in the cafe having himself a little latte. No wonder why he said “you go that way and I go this way, so it will be quicker.” We both hate shopping, but at least I made an attempt, via empty house. Plus everything we pretty much own is in our storage rooms. (or bedroom). Which we try to avoid going into for fear of dead cats. (you got to keep up folks to get the inside jokes) “Brian, check this out, it's a singing bird clock” “cool” Brian said. “yea, we can stick it in the kitchen or dining area (office)” “cool” “The best part of this clock, it uses batteries, no winding it up everyday, and it only cost 10 bucks. “ “cool” “you're a big help Brian, enjoy your freaking latte”. He did not share my enthusiasm on my new talking bird clock. Yep, I am feeling GOOOOD. A Singing Bird Clock is really all we need. I threw it in the cart with some other crap I found while Brain continued sipping on his latte. I know what you are all thinking, 'wow, he is lucky, wish I had a talking bird clock'. Its pretty cool isn't it, and I have one. Jealousssss?. This clock is kind of like a newer version of those old cuckoo clocks - except the cuckoo on this clock, brought over some friends. So I bring my new treasure home and read, 'AA battery not included'. I hate when that happens. So that was a new trip to the store. But I get the thing up and running and we decided to hang it in the kitchen. It just seemed the appropriate place to hang it. On the side of the box, after the directions on the proper way to put the battery in, it read that the bird sounds are actually authentic bird calls. It's the actual recordings of the real birds. I have no clue on how they got those birds in the recording studio, but I am sure that would make one great blog post. Anyway, the bird clock was hung, and I could hardly wait for the hour so I can hear the 'chickadee' sing. The Chickadee was up to sing for the 2:00 run. Oh, and sing he did, and sing, and sing, and sing, just like clock work, every freaking hour, all day, all night, rain or shine, day after day, some stupid bird would sing, or squeal, pending on the bird. I had not realized before, but these bird can sing pretty loud, I don't remember these birds being this loud when I was living at moms. especially when you least expect them to. When you're not looking at the clock and are in deep thought, then all a sudden to have this goose honk at you out of the blue, can scare the living jeebees out of ya. Brian wasn't thrilled with the bird clock at all. I kind of got that he was over it when he started throwing crap at it when it started making 'singing'. Plus, every time one of those birds started singing, Murphy, my dog, would go bonkers, He would run around the house looking for a bird. Elsa, Brian's cat, on the other hand, couldn't care less, probably because she is smart enough to know the birds aren't even real. I mean, Elsa loves birds too. She sits on the window sill, just watching the bird feeders. (darn, I have to fill those bird feeders) AGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! OH CRAP!!!!!!!!!! It must be 10:00pm, the mockingbird just started jabbering away. Now, where was I? I just lost my train of thought. That damn mockingbird. Oh never mind, my thought is gone. Oh, by the way, if ever you're looking for a singing bird clock, I have one, its in my 'storage space', I can sell it too you for a song. But be forewarned, it doesn't come with a AA battery, I used that to put in my clicker for the TV. Peace and quiet restored. I cant, I wont, I refuse. I think I am slowly turning into a +hoarder. My roommate Brain and I have this thing where we like a clutter free house.
We actually have two extra bedrooms in our home which was supposed to either, one, get turned into our offices, or two, get some roommates. Neither has happened. Our office is usually the kitchen table. It's not like we use the table to have meals together. So we have our computers on it, mine on one side, and Brian's on the other. But through the years, things just seem to accumulate. I can actually remember when my hoarding started, we were having a party and decided to throw everything in one of the bedrooms and just close the door. Gone, out of sight, out of mind. Our house was clutter free, just as we like it. And so it began. Hmmmmm where to put this broken TV? Ill just stick it in here and then deal with it another time. Now, what to do with this broken computer? Ill just stick it in there till I have time to fix it. What about this glue stick, you never know when we will need it, Ill just stick it in there. Junk after Junk. It piled up. My rationale at the time was, 'why pay for storage when I had these 2 empty bedrooms.' And it just kept going. Furniture that was too good to throw away, clothes that I would hold onto to give to my nephews, extra cable wires that I may need in the future, and my old weight set that I bought in 2011 and only used once. (mental note, I have to remember to get that so I can start working out again, aghhhh who am I kidding). All of it, I mean all of it, found its way into one of the bedrooms. Oh, did I mention that the other bedroom we turned into another storage unit? Well, we had another party and we had more stuff to get rid of. I found myself saying “don't throw it away, we may need it.” Isn't that the first sign of being a hoarder? As time went on, it got to the point that even when we needed something, we couldn't find it. It was just easier to buy it new then to look through the 2 storage rooms. (that's what we ended up calling them after a while). Anytime we couldn't find something, “did you look in the storage room?” At this point, you couldn't find anything in there, it was so cluttered from floor to ceiling of boxes and stuff. I realized at this point that we did cross the line to +Hoarderism (is that a word?). I kept thinking when +Christmas rolled around we would have to buy all new Christmas stuff because the decorations were buried so deep inside the one of the two storage rooms it would take days to try to find it. It was at the moment that I raised the white flag and surrendered too the storage rooms. Time to clean 'em out. I told Brian, my roommate, that this Saturday we both needed to be home to clean out those rooms. He agreed. We would separate into three piles, something I saw on 'selling my house' or one of those stupid reality shows. Or maybe I saw it on +hoarders, but whatever, Three piles. 1. usable stuff 2. no longer usable stuff 4. go to charity stuff Only the best of the best would get saved and remain in the house. So when Saturday came around, we were ready to go. We started opening all the boxes, dust was everywhere, books were found, lots of books, bins of clothes that we even forgot we had. It was pretty gross. We were actually wearing one of those dust masks just to give you an idea on how bad it was. I truly felt like I was on an episode of hoarders. I told Brian that I thought we were becoming hoarders, Brian said that we are just collectors, there is a difference. I tried to explain to him that collectors keep things because it makes them happy not because they are worried to throw it away of fear of needing it again. Plus, collectors usually have things organized to show off what they collect, like +hummels, this is NO collection of things. Brian wasn't having any of it. He rather be in denial then admit he has become powerless over this stuff. Isn't that the first step of change in +AA? Maybe we are +Addicted hoarders. I can see it now, "Hi, I'm Jay, and I am an +Addicted- Hoarder" "Hi Jay" the folks in the church basement chime in. I looked at Brian and said, “do you think people aren't coming over as much because our house +smells?” He said “no it doesn't smell” “yea, but the neighbor down the street with her 100 cat 'collection' didn't think her house smelled either. Then the men in the +White-Coats came and took her and her cats away and we never saw her again. I mean look at us, were wearing dust masks, that outta tell us something" Brian in denial again. Our Saturday turned into all weekend. The task was much bigger then we both anticipated. We made a few trips to the dump, we found those dumpsters for used clothes for the +Starving-children in +Ethiopia or some other starving country, (see, I care) and put our books in the 'we got books' bin. Slowly but surely, we were getting rid of stuff. But I got to tell you, it didn't look like we even made a dent. It looked exactly the same. Junk all over the floor. By Sunday night, we were both pretty tired. But we still had so much more to go through. As we looked at the time, it was 9pm at night. We had work in the morning so we picked up everything, put it in boxes and back in the storage rooms it goes. “Hey Jay, there it is, do we need this 'glue stick' anymore?” Brian asked “yea, you just never know”. Hey, look at the bright side. Not one cat. Isn't that one of the requirements of being a hoarder, having dead cats? Maybe Brian was right, maybe we are just collectors, nothing wrong with that. |