As a mom; when he says "You should come up..." you really don't have a choice, now do you?

I received the following text message from Man-Child the other day....

An obvious reference to the last time he invited me up for a visit

Which, of course, meant that my plans for today were solidified.

Despite the fact that it would mean not following my own edict that I would pack every weekend between two weekends ago until it was time to move.  (Truth be told, I haven't packed a damn thing since then. Sshhh, it's our secret!)  AND despite the fact that he's been home three out the four weekends in October.  Only, I can't actually verify that - since while he was home I didn't get to spend any quality time with him as his friends and his father monopolized him.

So, of course, when you receive that text you go.

Did we find a corn maze?  To my utter disappointment, no.  We did not.  I have been trying for years to get him to agree to go and he (and his father) have fought me tooth and nail (what they have against corn mazes, I don't know!).  Until this year, when finally Man-Child caved.  And then life got too busy to actually find one until it was too late - I sense that someone had planned for it to happen this way....

Instead we had a nice lunch, did a bit of shopping, caught a movie and one of us got a haircut.

We decided to see Last Vegas.  It was a fun movie.  Although, we were the youngest people in the theater...but that may have been because it was "Game Day" at the college; so I'm assuming everyone else was at the game.  Anything that combines, Robert DeNiro, Michael Douglas, Kevin Kline and Morgan Freeman has to be good; right?  And it was - we both laughed out loud at several scenes.  Although, to be honest, as a mom watching with her son (despite the fact that he is "technically" an adult) there were a few scenes that made me squirm knowing that he was sitting right there!

Prior to the movie, MC was ruminating on getting a haircut and trimming his beard.  I, of course, was enthusiastic about the idea since he was sporting a Wolverine kind of 'do....

This picture does not even BEGIN to show you how crazy his hair/beard has become!

Now, I am the first to say, I don't mind facial hair...look at Hubby up there; he is sporting some facial hair but Man-Child's?  It was OUT OF CONTROL.  So the fact that he was willing to part with some of it?  I was SO jumping on that band wagon.

So when he suggested getting his haircut prior to my leaving, I was all over it.  We went to the closest place - which, to be honest, had me (and MC) a bit nervous since the girl doing the cutting had only been in "the business" for about six months and, as she confessed before going to town on the out of control beard, had never trimmed a beard before.  But obviously, she had aced her cosmetology classes as we were both extremely satisfied with the results...

Knowing my boy, his hair will never again be that neatly combed.

As for the packing?  Well...there's always NEXT weekend...right?  I mean, really, we aren't moving until December...and that is EONS away....

...and the weird stuff that happens around here? It just keeps getting weirder.

Apparently, we have a new neighbor...of sorts.  One that is keeping us HOSTAGE in our home until dawn breaks - seriously.

About a month ago or so, I tweeted

While having the windows open to enjoy the crisp autumn air we've discovered that, apparently, there is also skunk in the vicinity #yuck
— Gigi (@gigirambles) September 25, 2013

Silly me.  I thought Pepe was just passing through.

No, apparently, he's decided he likes it here SO much that he has taken up residence.  How do I know this, you must be wondering.  I know this because just about every morning for the last week or so, when either one of us heads out the door to get the paper, there he is...sitting in our driveway, just daring us to come any closer, flicking his fluffy tail and smiling (yes, really).

The first time Hubby came back into the house and told me there was a skunk in the driveway I figured he was insane and just didn't want to go out in the rain.  Until the next morning, when I ventured out the side door and looked up the driveway - and there he sat, giving me that "Come any closer...I DARE ya! I DOUBLE DOG DARE ya!" look.  Needless to say, I turned around and went right back in the door; because honestly?  Who wants to go to work wearing "Eau de Skunk Cologne?"

Without question, I have done my research on skunks since then and have decided that I can wait for daylight to break to get my paper; for a few more days anyway.  As it appears they are nocturnal creatures, I figure once the time changes he will be hunkered down and sleeping by the time I wander out (I hope) to get the paper and then when it gets really cold he'll go into a state of torpor (similar to hibernation, but not quite) and then we will move (possibly) and never have to deal with him again.

There! *dusts hands* Problem solved.

Resting (rather uncomfortably, I might add) on the horns of a dilemma...

So, I just received a text.  From a boss.  Not THE boss, mind you, but a boss nonetheless.  Nearly THREE hours after being off the clock; asking me to be in the office early.  Not for anything urgent, of course.  No, just to pick up keys.

Why?  Because he has determined that since our office is SO old fashioned as to still require the gents to wear a suit to work four out five days (and everything BUT the jacket and tie on the 5th day) that it would be TOTALLY unacceptable for him to pop in for five minutes to pick up a set of keys.

But yet it would be appropriate for ME to pop into work - extra early (mind you, without overtime pay) to grab the keys and bring them down to the parking lot, where he can then be merrily on his way to our other office (which isn't under the stuffy restrictions that we are for some reason) and spend his day out of my hair (which, to be honest, after the past two days of pure hell; WOULD be a small blessing that I could definitely use right about now).

Which leads me to this...how to respond...

A) I'll try to be there; but you know....no one will notice you popping in for five minutes sans the suit.

B) Sorry - I have a prior engagement at that hour. (What?  He doesn't need to know the "engagement" is with my bed!)

C) You don't pay me enough to deal with this kind of crap.

D) Okay.  You owe me BIG time.

or

E) Ignore the text and reply tomorrow three minutes before he expects me saying "OMG!  I WISH I had seen this last night!"

I need your input NOW, by the way.  Since I plan to hit the sheets extra early tonight since, as I'm sure you've surmised...today has been an extra tough one.

****

And right about now, I realize...had the last one asked this of me; there wouldn't have been any question that I would have done it.  Mainly, because the last one would have NEVER asked me - she just would have be-bopped in there, grabbed the keys and have been merrily on her way.

Here's a novel idea - why not pack the garage first?

As it looks like the deal is solid and that we will actually be moving, we decided to pack up the garage yesterday.  And my suspicions were confirmed - Hubby IS a hoarder.

We spent two hours out there and I would estimate that about 70% of what was in there was garbage; thankfully he agreed.  So now we just need to move all the stuff that is destined for the trash out of the garage and get rid of it.

Remember those two boxes of baby things I mentioned last time we "cleaned" the garage?  Well, as Hubby picked one up it fell apart in his hands.  Looking at all those baby things took me back.  Was Man-Child ever really that tiny?  Obviously, he must have been.

Two days old

And it was also obvious that I had saved far more than was sane.  It also became QUITE clear to me that storing baby clothes in a box is not a smart thing to do - because those clothes were filthy.  So I did what any sane person would do - I scooped them all up and threw them in the wash.  And after they dried then proceeded to spend the next hour folding those teeny-tiny garments and deciding what I absolutely could not bear to part with and placing them in one of those Space Bags.  To the rest, I said goodbye and took them to Goodwill where they can find a new home with someone who needs them.

It feels good to be getting rid of stuff.  That is the good thing about this move; it is making both of us evaluate what we have and getting rid of things we don't need.  And the motivation behind it, is that we don't want to move it.  So the less we have, the less boxes that we will have to pack and unpack.  It still won't make the whole moving process any less sucky; but hopefully this will mean that the suckiness won't be as drawn out.

In the past, the garage has usually been the last thing we packed - which resulted in a total nightmare and might be partly to blame for why the garage is always the hellhole that it has been.  This time, this is the first packing we've done - and we assigned boxes such as "Car Stuff," "Plumbing Stuff," "Yard Stuff," etc. so theoretically when we land wherever it is we are going to land (yes, I still don't know where we are going to live) we can unpack the garage in an orderly manner and get it organized from the get go (oh hush, a girl can dream).

My plan is to attack one room every weekend going through, discarding and packing all the things that aren't needed on a day to day basis.  We'll see how that works out.

That is the good thing about this move; since we don't have to be out until December 8th - it is giving us plenty of time to evaluate what we are packing.

Now, if I just knew where we were going to live...

Someone please remind me to quit fiddling with things...something always ends up broken

I broke my blog...AGAIN.

Luckily, only for about an hour or so this time.  This time I single-handedly, in one fell swoop, deleted every single picture that has ever graced the pages of yours truly.

And it's all my phone's fault.  Or Google's.  I'm not quite sure but the more I think about it; the more certain I am that they were in it together.

For whatever reason, I cannot log into my blog dashboard from my phone.  I used to be able to do this and then *POOF* one day I couldn't.  Today was the day that I decided to fix this.  So I fiddled around with various things trying to get it to work and failed miserably.  The next thing I know, I get a notification on the phone telling me that it has synced all my phone photos with Google +.  Crap.

I never use my Google + account; why I even have it I will never know.

So I hopped on the computer to see what fresh hell I had wrought - and discovered that, yes indeed, I had synced all my photos to that account.  Despite the fact that they weren't being "shared" with anyone, I decided to go ahead and delete them; since I never use Google +.

After some struggling with manually selecting some of the 500+ photos, I clicked over to a new tab to figure out how to select them all at once - since that option didn't seem obvious.  Once I found it, I selected them all and hit delete with satisfaction.

But the empty albums were still there.  I clicked back over to the new tab to figure out how to delete the albums when a random sentence in one of the results caught my eye (of course, I've deleted that tab, so now I have to ad lib what it actually said) that said Google moved all your photos out of Picasa and put them into Google+; or something to that effect.

And suddenly, I was filled with absolute horror.  I opened another tab (why yes, I have been known to have as many tabs open as humanly possible) to check in on my blog.  I looked at about three different posts I was fairly sure had pictures in them, from various dates and ALL THE PICTURES WERE GONE!!!!

I clicked back over to Google+ to figure out a way to restore them and, of course, it wasn't readily apparent so I clicked to another tab to Google it.  And *phew* found out they weren't completely gone yet and was able to restore them.  Apparently Google+ knows that people are stupid and need an undo key.

But it would be even better if Google gave you a heads up before you clicked delete.  You know, something along the lines of "Hey! Are you SURE you want to do that?! Because if you do, all the pictures on your blog will go bye-bye!"

So here is the moral of this story - don't delete anything ever from your Google+ account.  And it's a good thing I forgot I even had that account before now, otherwise I might have deleted it...and who knows what would have happened then!

Doctor Sleep...and other stuff

Where have I been? I know, I know...I've been busy - well, not really but what other excuse do I have?

At any rate, last weekend I treated myself....

Bought myself a treat! Am only 130 pages in and I love it! pic.twitter.com/sV3PvAbQ5Z
— Gigi (@gigirambles) October 6, 2013

I can never say no to Stephen...unless it's short stories.  I can't stand short stories - even Stephen's - simply because I feel like I'm being cheated out of a whole story.  Yes, I have issues.  I admit that; now let's move on.

I actually bought the book on Saturday, the 5th, but due to circumstances beyond my control (i.e., celebrating Man-Child's birthday - dear God, in heaven, he's NINETEEN!), I didn't get to start reading it until Sunday; after driving him back up the mountain to school - and between the exhaustion of celebrating and the exhaustion of driving, I didn't REALLY get into the book until Monday and then I was hooked.  By Tuesday, it was clear that despite the fact I had over a hundred pages to go and it was past my bedtime, I HAD to finish the book.  Needless to say, on Wednesday, I was worthless due to sleep deprivation - BUT IT WAS WORTH IT!

The only reason I was able to jump right into this book without having to re-reading The Shining was because over the summer it became apparent that Man-Child had never seen (or read) it.  That was remedied fairly quickly.  As a side note, I do NOT remember the mother being so irritating the first time I saw the movie.  This time?  She irritated the hell out of me.

Because we watched the movie though, I was up on all the characters and I didn't have to stop to think, "WHO was Dick Halloran again?"

From the jacket; "On highways across America, a tribe of people called the True Knot travel in search of sustenance.  They look harmless-mostly old, lots of polyester, and married to their RVs.  But as Dan Torrence knows, and spunky twelve-year-old-Abra Stone learns, the True Knot are quasi-immortal, living off the steam that children with the shining produce when they are slowly tortured to death."

Now, if that tiny blurb - in addition to my exclamations of YOU MUST READ THIS NOW - doesn't send you running off to buy, beg, borrow or steal (please don't steal; that's wrong) this book, then nothing will.

In other news, the house has been inspected and we received the report yesterday.  And by all accounts, I can say without a shadow of a doubt the "inspector" in question is an idiot. 

In addition to other cosmetic, nonsensical stuff he determined that the pilot light was out on our fireplace.  Our WOOD BURNING fireplace.  The one that is filled with soot and stray ashes from previous, actual fires instead of gas logs; that produce no soot or ash.

So once, we address the fact that the inspector is a moron we will see if the buyer is willing to take it mainly as-is if we throw a small amount of cash in at closing (mainly because we don't have the time between now and the closing date to fix everything).  So, I figure by Monday we will know for sure, for sure, if the deal is done.  And then I can really start panicking, as opposed to only dreaming up scenarios that have me living in a van; down by the river.

If you need me, I'll be living in a van down by the river.

As you know, we may have sold the house, in a shockingly quick manner.  We are still waiting for the appraiser to come back with the appraisal; we still need the inspector to come and inspect and our closing date, if it happens, will be on October 31st.

And at this point?  At this point, I'm actually hoping the appraiser will come back with a ridiculously low appraisal so that we can tell the buyers that there is no way in hell we will lower the sale price to that amount.

Why?  Because I have been scouting around.  I know we are planning to rent before we jump into buying anything else - but you still have to know what's out there.  And what's out there?  Nothing.

Well, that's not entirely accurate...there is plenty out there that I liked but could never, ever in a million years afford - unless I hit the lottery.  And what we could afford - well, let's just say I was horrified and leave it at that.

Hubby continues to laugh at what he thinks is my dramatic moaning - but that's only because he hasn't been out there looking.

So then I turned my eye towards rentals - figuring I can worry about buying a house later.  That didn't go much better.  I kid you not, one house that was a two bedroom, one bath, teeny-tiny house in a semi-sketchy neighborhood was asking more for rent than we are currently paying on our mortgage!

Which is when I had my revelation and, of course, I tweeted it to the world...

After spending the day driving around looking for somewhere to live; I've decided we will end up in a van down by the river *sigh*
— Gigi (@gigirambles) September 28, 2013

Apparently, at this point, this is the only feasible choice.

Well now, that was unexpected....

Do you remember I told you about my tendency to put the cart before the horse?  And then proceeded to show you all just how insane I could be?

Well, apparently, all my insane tendencies were correct.  We received an offer on the house...from the folks that first (and, in fact, the ONLY people), came to view the house.  I had a feeling about this sweet, little family.  I knew they were interested.

Holy cow, were they interested...as they have been to view the house no less than three times in one week, yeah, I'd say they were interested.

Needless to say, this offer brought forth a mixture of emotions.  Elation (YAY! They love my house as much as I do!  In fact, the wife even informed me that this was the ONLY house she'd seen where she wouldn't have to repaint because she liked my colors so much) mixed with sadness and horror (how DARE they try to take MY house away?).

But in the end?  Well, the truth is, as much as I love this house - this house isn't exactly full of happy memories, is it?

Not long after moving in Hubby lost his job; for what turned out to be an extended amount of time.  Which means that the majority of our time spent in this house has been fraught with fear and uncertainty.  I can look around and pinpoint the areas where I have cried copious amounts of tears.  Yes, I can also look around and remember some happy moments - but to be fair the sad have far outweighed the happy.

So here's the deal...I'm ready to let this house go.  I'm ready to pass this house on to the nice, young family and hope that this house holds a beautiful future for them.  I'm ready to shake the dust of the past few years from my heels and face the future.

But despite the fact that the house is as good as sold - which I won't count on until we actually sign the closing documents - apparently, we won't be in any rush to leave it.

The nice, young family wants to close as soon as possible BUT for various reasons known only to them, they won't be able to move in immediately.  So they have asked us if we would entertain the idea of renting the house until December at a rate equal to our current mortgage.  We have agreed.

This does two things for us - it gives us a little bit of breathing room about finding somewhere else to live and it gives us the luxury of an organized attempt at packing.  In the past, when we've sold a home the new owners usually want to occupy the house as soon as possible, which results in slap-dash packing.  And we all know what happens when you pack like that - things get lost and unpacking can be a nightmare.

So, here we go...off to start a new chapter.

An Open Letter to Jackasses Everywhere - Your Mother Would Be Mortified (FYI - you might want to take note McDonald's)

Dear Sir Jackass -

Did your mother raise you to behave like that?!  I'm hopeful that she didn't - but with the amount of jackassery I witness on a daily basis, I'm beginning to think she did - which, quite honestly, breaks my heart.  Because I can tell you that without a doubt, if I ever even hear a whisper of a rumor that my child MIGHT have behaved in the manner that you did today?  Well, let's just say that he would definitely live to regret his behavior - and no, I don't care if he will be 19 on his birthday next month.  Actually, I would STILL give him hell for it if he was about to turn 50.

Today, I stopped by McDonald's to get my fix a diet soda (hush, we aren't here to discuss my vices - we are here to talk about YOU) when I witnessed your behavior.  And I was APPALLED.

Yes, I realize that this particular McDonald's has recently undergone a renovation which added the "extra" order lane - of which, I can tell you I heartily disagreed with from the start.  Mainly because I had envisioned the EXACT scenario which you proceeded to act out in great detail today.

BAD idea, Micky-Dee! BAD.
(source)

I saw you there, taking your time to place your order as I pulled into the other lane and quickly placed my order for my single item.  I'm sure that kinda ticked you off, since I was able to pull ahead of you - sorry about that.  Quit screwing around while you are ordering; that's the only advice I have for you on that front.  If you don't know what you want then park the car and go inside to figure it out.

The elderly gentleman behind me also placed his order rather quickly.  Yes, maybe you DID complete your order first and was technically "the next person in line" but, from what I could see, the elderly gentleman was driving a gigantic automobile and, most likely, didn't see you over there as he began to nose forward - in front of you.

Your reaction of screaming and cursing at the elderly man was reminiscent of a toddler throwing a tantrum.  And then to make matters worse - you decided that jumping OUT of your car and standing in front of his while screaming obscenities was the best course of action?

Really?!  Where EXACTLY did you determine that this sort of behavior is how a "man" behaves?  Do you actually think this kind of behavior makes you "a man"?  Because, in all honesty, it disgusted me.  And then? To watch you swagger back to your car and pick up your phone - because, I assume, you had to broadcast your behavior all over social media - right about then I had an urge to get out of MY car and rip into you.

I judge you to be about...what?  Mid-twenties, maybe?  So let me give you just a bit of motherly advice, if you will.  Stop it.  Grow up.  And be a man.  What does it take to be a man, you might wonder?  Well, let me tell you.  First of all, don't act like an idiot - or worse, a jackass.  In public or otherwise.  Sure, you were hungry.  I get that, but you know what?  The person at the window offered ME your food (which quite honestly, happens ALL THE TIME at places with this kind of drive-thru system) - and truth be told, I was sorely tempted to take it to give to the homeless man down the street JUST to piss you off that much more when you either got the wrong order or had to wait even longer.  As you must have surmised (which, by the way, basically means "figured out."  Sorry, if my explanation offends you - but by your behavior, I can only assume that you are a Neanderthal - which loosely means, "cave man.") by now, I bypassed that childish impulse.

If you had to wait just a minute more for your damn cheeseburger would it have killed you?  No, probably not.  In other words, "Suck it up and be a man" - which, in case you weren't aware, real men don't behave in that fashion.  No, real men are what they used to call "gentlemen."  If you aren't quite sure what that means, look it up - you know, in a dictionary.  But since I suspect you won't - let me lay it out in quite simple terms - gentlemen don't act like jackasses - as you did today.

And here's just another little bit of motherly wisdom - respect people. Period.  Who the hell do you think you are?  When you find yourself screaming at a person - over a flippin cheeseburger! - I'm thinking it's time to take a step back, look at your life, look at your temper and start re-thinking EVERYTHING about your life, because you?  You are doing something wrong.  You are, in fact, a jackass.

And, I can only hope that your mother would be ashamed to know of your behavior - that she would, in fact, be MORTIFIED.

Yours,

The "If-You-Were-My-Son-I'd-Kill-You" Mom (don't believe me? Ask MY son.  The one I taught to respect other people and act like a gentleman)

P.S. McDonald's? Are you listening?  Sure, this two lane system may be processing orders more quickly, but it is also processing more insane behavior in the jackasses that walk among us.  You might want to re-think that strategy.

The Invisible Box (or, more appropriately...Apparently, my insanity knows no bounds)

As you know, we are going to show the house tomorrow.  This, of course, led to a major cleaning frenzy today.

In the course of said frenzy, my eye happened to fall on this box.

Now this little box sits in an unobtrusive corner in my laundry room and is used to hold items that need to be taken to Goodwill.  You know, like *that* pair of pants that looked, oh so cute, in the store but in reality made me look like an Oompaloompa.  This little box is also apparently invisible to everyone in the house except for me - as I am the only person who ever seems to deposit anything into the box, unless I force them to at gun point. (Yes, I live with hoarders, people).

As I continued on with the cleaning frenzy, that little box remained in mind.  Why?  Because I had decided that the little box needed to be prettified AND it needed to happen before tomorrow - you know, just in case the little box isn't actually invisible to everyone but me.

So I pondered - yes, PONDERED - over the best way to make the box pretty.  

And I came up with the solution of covering the box with Contact Paper.  Yes, I could have used pretty gift wrap - but since I had pondered over this little box for far too long - I had decided that gift wrap just wouldn't hold up as well on a box, that sits in the corner, and is only used by me.

So I made a special trip to Target to procure "pretty" Contact Paper to cover the invisible box and came home and set to work.  Now, as anyone who has ever used Contact Paper to line their shelves knows, it is not the easiest medium to work with.  Throw a box with corners into the equation and you are talking EXTRA tricky.

But I did it; and now my invisible box is pretty.

And as if spending half an hour wrapping a box - that no one but me sees - wasn't enough.  I decided it needed a label, just in case that box isn't invisible to everyone else, so that they would know the purpose of the box.  So I headed to the computer, created said label, printed it, cut it out and slapped it on.

And there you have it.  I am now the proud owner of a pretty little, invisible box that proudly states its purpose.

As if you needed further proof of my insanity.