WTF Files

I commented on a FB post about Bob Dylan being in an IBM commercial. Yea, I know. Think about that for jut a moment. reminiscent of the first time I heard a Beatle’s song in an Elevator. (Does Muzak exist anymore?)  What is the cultural equivalent for the millennials?

The above does qualify for WTF all on its own, but it didn’t end there. Within minutes, there was an IBM suggested post on my feed. Seriously? That quick? We are all accustomed to ads popping up on social media  obviously connected to our recent internet searches.  Now, some annoying genius has written an algorithm based on posts that I comment on. The original post mentioned IBM, I did not.

I tip my hat to those coders that not only came up with this idea, but had the knowledge to pull it off. PLEASE STOP NOW.

Mark Zuckerburg, if by chance this ever finds its way to you, ads are one thing, cluttering my feed with information I AM NOT interested in is another.


WTF Files

I love the sound of water; waves crashing on beaches or rocks, waterfalls, a steady rain fall. But when that sound comes from under the kitchen sink, well from any sink really, my heart sinks. (no pun intended.)

So, we begin another Monday. The drain pipe thingy disconnected from the drain thingy. I’m not fond of doing plumbing work, but this was a no brainer. First remove the stuff from the cabinet. Fortunately, I’m no stranger to leaks, so everything under there is in plastic containers. This not only makes it easier to get to and clean out, they also can serve as buckets. On the downside, this may have been leaking for a while before it cut loose as one of the containers was full and a bit stinky I might add.

I’m on the floor, playing plumber and that’s when it happens. I get a charlie horse. WTF? Are you kidding me? Attend to the cramp, or close the pipe that leads to the sewer line that is filling my kitchen with smelly gases?

The Pink Attitude is feeling a little washed out today.

WTF Files

I think I need to start a series of posts dealing with the crap that finds me on a regular basis. I suppose this could also be referred to as Murphy’s Law, but seriously, this is 2015 and my life deserves expletive friendly commentary.

Not wanting to bore you all with a long involved story, I’ll get right to it. Well, after a little story. Had a friend come to town last week, unexpectedly.  My daughter has been very ill lately with numerous trips to the doctor. (more on that later) So today, I found myself enjoying my morning coffee on the patio basking in the calm, contemplating my chores plans for the day. You know, putting up fall decorations, catching up on laundry, perhaps a little sewing.

I step back in the house to refill above mentioned beverage and then I see it. Paint bubbles above the kitchen sink. WTF? I know that look and it’s not a welcome faux finish. CRAP! Quick house tour in a panic reveals another spot. Seriously?

The Pink Attitude today is a little on the red side.


Finding My Voice

In the past year, I have put myself in the position of having to “present” to a group of people on various topics relating to blogging.  I am no stranger to talking to groups, but it is usually in a sewing classroom where my comfort level is extremely high. Obviously, I am not as versed in the blogging world. The fact that anyone is even reading this is, well amazing to me.

Apparently, I can be funny. Imagine that! In front of a group of strangers, I come across as humorous.  Is it fear? Am I really a comedian masquerading as a woman approaching senior citizen discounts? Ok, I actually qualify for some of those and am able to sneak in on others I don’t. Like the movie theater. Tell a teenager you want a senior ticket and show them your license as id for your credit card. Do they check how old you are? NOT EVEN ONCE!

The challenge now becomes writing the way I speak. This is not easy. More than once, it has been suggested to me that I record what I want to say and then transcribe it to my blog. I have the technology to do this, but like almost everyone, I’m not so fond of hearing my own voice. Podcasting might be a solution; but there’s that voice thing again.

Step One: Write more. I keep telling myself to do that, but then things come up. Fun things. Like new sewing toys, or dinner with family. (Ok, not all my family is fun.) There are just so many hours in the day, and when you get to my stage in life, you tend to be super picky about how you spend them. And then there’s the borderline ADD thing. I don’t really have ADD, I refer to it as Pinball Brain. You know, where you do one thing and it takes you somewhere and you lose track of what you started doing and pretty soon you’re bouncing all over the place. Like now.

Focus! Go back to Step One.

Eventually, I will find my voice as long as I approach this with a Pink Attitude.

If My Life Were a Comedy,

it would be called, You Can’t Make this Shit UP

At the beginning of the month, my daughter moved into a new house; ok not new new, but new to her. Things started on schedule and then it fell apart.

Fred, the handyman we hired, had his own schedule. Priorities, that I thought I was pretty clear on, included hanging light fixtures, redoing the tub/shower to a shower, and installing an ADA toilet. Let’s just say, my daughter came to my house to shower for the first week and there was a late night run to Target for a floor lamp. In Fred’s defense, he did slice his finger open. To the tune of 24 stitches and an all day stint in the local ER. Oh Shit!  Apparently handymen have their own way of doing things. Who knew?

We had 4 days to move. Sounds like a lot of time, but I’m still feeling the aftermath of a broken toe and recently fell and hurt my shoulder. My daughter is disabled and has challenges being on her feet for extended periods and/or doing a lot of walking. 4 days in our case is a serious time crunch.

The guys we rounded up to move her furniture were great, but there was still a lot to pack and move. Then the obstacles started presenting themselves.

Dead car battery: 3 hours lost. And the embarrassment that comes with leaving your car on the street in a new neighborhood where the HOA rules state” No overnight street parking.” Way to make a good impression. (They were all fine with it.)

Chainsaws at 7:30 in the morning. Ok, that was my bad, but not really. Hired a company to clear out the dead bushes, trim tress etc on a small property that hadn’t had a haircut in probably a year. We agreed on 9am, they showed up at 7:30. Totally screwing up this first impression thing.

Fred’s broken key while his truck was blocking the garage and we had a car full of boxes. Did I mention it was raining/hailing. 2 hours lost. However there was the entertainment of him guiding his wife from the other side of town during rush hour in a storm.  He had her on speaker so we got to enjoy both sides of the conversation.

OH CRAP: The car plates are going to expire today and it happens to be the year you need emission testing. 1 hour lost.

Bad Paint Mix:  I thought running out of paint wasn’t going to be an issue. Run to the store, get the same paint, they mix it up with their fancy computer guided color thingy. Only when we started painting, it wasn’t the same color. WHAT? HOW? ARE YOU FRICKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW? Back to the paint store; 1 and half hours lost.

Last run through of the old apartment it is discovered that kitchen knives and pots and pans did not get packed. I’m calm. Not sure why or how, but I am.

We did manage to get everything done, with 2 and half hours to spare. I learned a lot about moving, which I personally haven’t done for over 25 years, and when I take that step, I’ll be a lot more prepared. Oh, who am I kidding?  I recently read that the best memories come from those things that go awry. I anticipate lots more memories.