49) Alice In Slippers

Fate sometimes intervenes in life. When it does, I feel strongly it is our duty to allow fate to exercise its will on our destiny. Wednesday night, while I lay in bed, I perused my phone to see if Alice in Wonderland was still available in movie theaters, hoping L. and I might go out on Saturday night. I discovered that Thursday night was the last night the film could be seen in the nice theater closest to our home. Generally I do not like seeing movies in the theater because they are too expensive, and I do not like seeing movies during the week because I like to relax at home. However, L. and I wanted to see this movie in the theater and Thursday night was our last chance to do so.

On Thursday a coworker approached my desk and asked me if I planned to attend the vendor meeting he'd planned for us. The vendor: NCM (National Cine Media). NCM sells commercial space in many theaters across the country in the space right before the film starts. Her presentation included a montage of big budget movies now in theaters. Alice In Wonderland owned a good 20 seconds of the montage.

At the end of her presentation, the NCM rep handed each of us gold passes to any AMC theater. The theater closest to our house happens to be an AMC theater. I sent L. an email asking if she would be interested in a spontaneous trip to the movies, that fate intervened in our lives and we had a responsibility to embrace this opportunity.

L. and I work hard, and often late. AMC scheduled the final showing for Alice In Wonderland at 7:55p. L. generally gets home (on good days) between 7:30p and 8p. She felt she could take off early from work (6:30p) so we could eat something quick and make it to the movie in time. The plan seemed to work smoothly. L. arrived about 6:45. We ate dinner and left for the movie promptly at 7:40 in order to make it to the theater and into our seats by 7:55p. We did not, however, account for Mall parking lot traffic. We pulled into the Park entrance hoping to get a spot near Dilliards. The road at the entrance forks, forcing L. and I to choose between the right and the left parking lots. I chose the right, thinking that the lot outside of Dilliards is always clear and easily accessible. My thinking was right. I pulled to the right and discovered the lot to have empty spaces from which I could choose.

It was at this point that L. looked down at her feet and discovered she wore her pink, fluffy house shoes. She said, "Oh no! I'm wearing my house slippers!" She got home from work, changed into a nice dress and decided to wait until the last minute to put on her shoes. The last minute turned out to be after we already arrived at the movie theater.

The big question arose: Do we go home and get sensible shoes but perhaps miss the first part of the movie? Or do I make L. see Alice in slippers?

What would you have done?

48) Domesticated Answer: Fitted Sheets

I know you can relate to many of the issues I address in my previous post (43) and so I am glad to bring to your attention an article I found in a magazine. I hope this helps.

47) Search Trends 4/12

Here are a couple of snapshots of the top ten searches from this week. Some of these confuse me. The Beatles made all three lists, as did the KFC Double Down (which looks disgusting by the way...the sandwich uses ck patties as bread, and cheese/bacon as the inside of the sandwich). Apparently there is an upsurge of searches on basketball wives as well as Steven Segal making it all the way to number 2. I wonder how many searches it takes to make the top ten.

46) Sewing Machine Redemption

3-4 years ago L. talked about wanting to learn how to sew. She wished to learn how to hem her own pants, make curtains, or fix small issues with torn blankets caused by our cats. It was an innocent remark that led to me buying her a nice sewing machine for Christmas to show her I was listening. I wanted to show her I support her in the endeavors she wishes to pursue in this life no matter how much I like or dislike them.

The sewing machine, as well as my attempts to show her how much I cared, completely underwhelmed her. She responded like Wayne and Garth when they visited green-screen Delaware. She said, "Hey look. A sewing machine. Thanks. I don't know what I will do with it, but thanks. Does this mean I have to start sewing stuff? Merry Christmas to you too, I guess..."

I saw her disappointment and apologized, explaining the comments and thoughts behind the present. And for the last three years, while the sewing machine collected dust in our guest room closet, she would add disclaimers when talking to me. She would say things like, "I like the sweet potato fries at Jake's Hamburgers. But hey, you don't need to get me gift certificates to the restaurant for Christmas this year, okay?" Or, "I wish I could speak another language. Oh, but please don't sign me up for a class this year for Christmas. Thanks."

This past weekend L.'s mother visited from Houston. Yards of cloth littered our living room because of a recent project we were working on to protect our new couch from our cats and dog. D. asked what we were up to and L. answered, "We are hand sewing covers for our couch cushions, because we were stupid and bought a white couch. It has taken us 3 weeks to finish 2 1/2 cushions!!!"

D. responded, "You should get a sewing machine. You could be done in a couple of hours, if you had one of those."

Liz laughed and took yet another opportunity to point out what a foolish Christmas present I purchased 3 years ago, explaining to her mother that we do have a sewing machine, but we could not get it to work properly. D. asked if she could see it. She offered to help us finish our couch cushion project if she could figure out how to make the machine work.

And she could. They assembled the bobbin, ran the thread, adjusted the stitch settings and grabbed a phone book to hoist the foot pedal. Each time the digital screen blinked an error message they consulted the manual and untangled any issues they encountered. A couple of hours later they finished the first cushion cover. L. ran into the living room where I watched basketball and hugged me, exclaiming how happy she was to have a sewing machine. She said, "Look at these stitches! This is much better than hand sewing. And you know what? Now I can hem my pants, or make curtains for our living room. I could even make a wiener dog pillow cover!"

I said, "You know, I think you owe me an apology for all the shit you've given me the last three years for this present."

She smiled and said, "You're right. I'm sorry for all the shit I've given you. I love the sewing machine and can't wait until I am better at using it. Thanks."

And though I am happy the present turned out okay, I must admit I am still somewhat of an idiot for getting her the the sewing machine. No matter what is said, if she got me a hedge-trimmer for Christmas so that I could more easily trim our front bushes, I would probably unwrap the present and say, "Hey look. Hedge-trimmers. Thanks. I don't know what I will do with this, but thanks." And perhaps three years down the line when our bushes are completely out of hand I could trim them and be thankful...

45) One Hit Wonders

Couldn't sleep last night and found myself on the couch at 2a watching One Hit Wonders on VH1. I do not usually stop on VH1, but I must admit Musical Youth's "Pass The Dootchie" ensnared me. I watched for a few minutes and heard references/snippets on songs like "Don't Worry Be Happy", "Whip It", "Puttin' On the Ritz" and "The Ghostbuster's Theme Song". And then I was blindsided by the VH1 hostess bringing up No Rain by Blind Melon. My initial reaction was anger. This network had obviously not heard any other Blind Melon song/album and had no reason for putting Blind Melon on a list with Devo, Bobby McFerrin, Taco and Ray Parker Jr. (I had to look up who sang the Ghostbuster song).







As I watched other one hit wonders like "I could walk 500 hundred miles" and "867-5309", however, it occurred to me that perhaps the other musicians featured on this show are being misrepresented as badly as Blind Melon. Perhaps Tommy Tutone's album is as impressive as Blind Melon's first album. Perhaps the guy who sang "I'm Too Sexy" has a kick ass sound that was completely overshadowed by a public's irrational love for one of his tracks.



I am not bold enough to taint my itunes recommended listening list by purchasing a Devo album, so I must defer my inquiries to the public. Anyone here get suckered into buying an album from a one hit wonder? Anyone feel angry when they see one of these bands featured unfairly on a late night VH1 crap show?

44) Dinosaur Nightmares

I have recurring nightmares that I am being chased by dinosaurs. Last night I was chased by a T-Rex in the middle of downtown. The Dinosaur wreaked havoc, destroying buildings and eating people, and all I could do was crouch behind a bicycle rack hoping the dinosaur did not see me. I took a chance and ran into a nearby hotel. My sudden movement attracted the dinosaur who chased me into the lobby. I ran into the bathroom, and worried that the dinosaur would smell me, I took the smelly urine disc from the urinal and placed it by the door, hoping that it would mask my smell. I sat in the farthest stall with my feet on the toilet so that it could not see me. I wondered how long I would have to wait in there for the Dinosaur to leave the hotel. I wondered if I would be able to sleep in there. I sat quietly and listened until I heard the door to the bathroom open. I could not see if a person opened it, but I imagined the Dinosaur pushed it open with his giant face. I held my breath.

I woke up to my alarm and was frightened, though I could not completely remember why. I am not sure why I have Dinosaur Nightmares but I have them more frequently than I care to admit. Apparently I was eaten by a T-Rex in a former life.

On a completely separate note, I saw a commercial this morning for a Toyota Sienna about a young mom who tells us she is often mistaken as her children's babysitter. She is proud that driving her Sienna makes her look and feel young. There is a shot where she shows us how her two children have their own TV in the back so they can watch their own show. The young boy who sits behind the mom is watching The Neverending Story. The shot on his screen is the same shot I put in my post a couple of weeks ago. Makes me happy that the young, hip mom was passing on classic movies to her children so that we can keep our generation's art alive.

43) Domesticated Man: Part 2

If you do not remember Domesticated Man: Part 1, refer to blog post 11.

Sundays are the days I catch up on daily life maintenance. It is my domesticated day. Earlier in this blog I mention items around the house that have changed my life for the better, and have ultimately been responsible for making me a Domesticated Man. This posting, however, will be slightly different. Here, I will discuss some of the things I have trouble with and cannot seem to figure out. If anyone reading this has answers, please help me out, as I may be in desperate need.

* Folding Fitted Sheets. I cannot fold fitted sheets to save my life. I try to fold them, but ultimately roll them up in a messy ball and stuff them in the cabinet. They barely stay in there and often fall out when I open the cabinet door for something else.
* Confusing fabric softener with laundry detergent. I once washed 4 loads of laundry using fabric softener instead of detergent. In my defense, the softener company changed the shape and color of their bottle to match the detergent we use. To my detriment, the bottle did have a snuggly bear on it.
* Shirts holding their iron. I iron my shirt, and by the time I get to work my shirt looks like I grabbed it out of the bottom of my dirty clothes hamper before putting it on. I know this is because I use Magic Sizing instead of starch, but I do not like starch.
* Lint rolling. When I lint roll my slacks, or any piece of furniture we have, I get hair up. But I never get all of the hair up. And when L. double checks my work she always uses 2-3 more sheets to complete the job I thought I sufficiently finished.
* Shaving without leaving a stray long ass hair on my neck. Or a small collection of hairs on the under side of my jawline.
* Knowing where anything is in the house. I cannot find the can of tomato sauce L. wants from the cupboard, or where the hell our extra pillow cases are at, or where we keep headache medicine. But I can always find the ketchup, my wine key and I am pretty good at knowing where our plates are, though sometimes I open the wrong cupboard door for some reason.
* Washing L.'s clothes without shrinking something expensive and that fit her perfectly, and that was the best pair of pants/sweater/dress she owned.
* Moving stuff off the counter top before wiping it off. Instead, I employ the move crap around as I am wiping and basically all I do is move around the dirt and food crumbs.
* Turning off my closet light. And I never realize I forgot until I turn my bedside lamp off and there is light coming from my closet area and I have to get out of bed to turn it off. Very frustrating.
* Vacuuming the rug. I run the vacuum over the thing 3-4 times. And once I turn the machine off and move to the next rug L. tells me I have to re-vacuum because I did not do it right the first time. I do not understand this, as there are no other buttons on the machine except the "on" button. And when I am pushing the machine on the rug, the motor is running and my dog is attacking it, so I know I pushed that button correctly. Still, it does not pick anything up and I ultimately feel like it is a waste of my time trying to vacuum.
* Cleaning glass with the blue stuff. I spray it on and wipe it off, but all that happens is messy, cloudy streaks appear that are worse looking than the dried glass circles that were on the tabletop when I began. Not sure how to make glass cleaning actually make the glass look clean. Same goes for bathroom mirrors.
* Flipping an egg that I am trying to cook over easy. The yolk busts every time and I have to call an audible, making scrambled eggs instead.
* Finding the correct lid to the tupperware piece I am using. I do not understand why we cannot have just one size of tupperware that fits only 1 lid. We have 5 different types, and it always takes me to the 5th lid before I find the one that fits.
* Getting the dirty dishes to fit into the dishwasher. I am good at rinsing and scrubbing the dishes by hand, but I put them into the dishwasher and still have 3 bowls, 4 cups and an assortment of wooden/serving spoons that do not fit. I put the powerball gel pack in the machine, but before I can turn it on L. takes everything out of the dishwasher, puts it back in, and suddenly everything fits. I do not understand how this works.