Possible Titles for my Fascinating Autobiography

Tea, Popcorn, and Cats:
The Ivy McDougalhopper Story

How to Survive After You've Lost your Mind:
The Ivy McDougalhopper Coping Strategies

Mean Things Children Have Said to Me:
Being Bullied Even as an Adult

Guide to Sub-Par Television
What Not to Watch and When to Watch it

Teacher Puns and Nerdy Jokes:
How Ivy McDougalhopper Spends the Day Laughing

Ice Cream for Breakfast, Popcorn for Dinner:
The Ivy McDougalhopper Diet
 

A Great Day for Calories and Fried Food

At the Minnesota State Fair today, I ingested:

1 Pronto Pup smothered in mustard
1 Tiny Tim miniature donut
1 Large 1919 Root Beer
1/2 a basket of greasy, breaded, fried cheese curds from the stand with the mouse trap on it
1/3 of a 32 oz container of Fresh French Fries covered in salt and vinegar
2 glasses of 2% milk from the all you can drink milk stand

Epi-What?

Among everything else in the world (aside from cockroaches, horses, and pine trees), I am allergic to peanuts. This allergy is kind of a pain in the neck, especially considering that at one point, in the hazy past of my early childhood, I frequently enjoyed what I remember as amazingly delicious peanut butter treats. Plus, it seems that peanuts are in everything and most factories just have peanut fights where employees chuck the little things at each other, contaminating everything in a seven mile radius. How else can you explain the warnings on the back of things such as brownie mix, Swiss Rolls, naan, or even the occasional pre-made sandwich?

As someone who is allergic to everything but may have to deal with anaphylaxis with peanut contaminated bagels, I do carry an epipen. I have one in my purse, one in my medicine cabinet, and some random, ever-so-slightly expired ones around my apartment and my parents' home. They are just a thing I have to carry. Whatever.

Today, for the first time ever, I saw a television commercial for Epi pens. At first confused, I became more and more amused. Apparently, this shot of epinephrine is not a cure-all. You still need to seek medical attention after using it. Also, you're not supposed to give yourself a shot in your butt. Who knew?

I  can't find the epi pen commercial on youtube right now, but when I do, I will share it with you.

Also, the advertisement urges you to ask your pharmacist if an epi pen or epi pen junior is right for you or your child.

Are there people out there who know they have severe allergies but whose doctors just decide not to prescribe this emergency shot of epinephrine? Maybe these people need a new doctor.

Because I'm Awesome (#5)

• When I try to sleep in, I only make it to 7:30am.
• I bought a nook as a present for myself. After working all summer, and then getting a job for the fall, I thought I should reward myself with a fancy present. In my life, a nook is an exceedingly fancy gift. While a book person deep down in my heart, the nook is convenient for travelling. I spend a lot of time between Rochester and the Twin Cities, as well as Birchwood, WI, and moving books back and forth is always a pain. Unfortunately, I am mildly annoyed with myself after discovering how much I truly enjoy my new nook.
• I went to "Arti Gras" down by the river yesterday and considered buying a ceramic fish to hang on the wall.
• After patching the holes in my wall left by the previous tenant, it is now necessary that I repaint. Unfortunately, I am unable to commit to any one particular color. The living room will probably end up being "Orange Toffee".
• Last night I made myself a real, honest-to-goodness dinner. There was mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, a bacon wrapped filet, strawberries, and a rather generous glass of Moscato. Because I'm super awesome, I even lit a candle while I ate because it seemed wrong not to. Dinner was really, quite good.
• I saved all of my dishes from last night to do today. Ugh. What a mess I made!
• One big orange cat is sitting on my right, sleeping, and one fluffy cat is sitting on my left, shooting hate rays at the one on my right.
• It is almost 11:00am, and I am still not dressed.

Inspiration From Bad Music

On Saturday, I read some columns from a Dave Barry book at my folks' house. I'd kind of been working on some crossword puzzles and reading a little bit of Sex With Kings, which sounds like a great book, and should be a great book, but the style is not for me. In my opinion, it is not written or organized well. And so, I also picked up Dave Barry is NOT Making This Up! which is a collection of some of his articles.

One of the last articles I read was the one on Mr. Barry's bad music survey. It was laugh-out-loud funny, which was actually kind of awkward. You see, we were sitting at the counter drinking tea and eating scones. My mother was sitting on my right completely engrossed in The Help, and Mr. Sturm was reading (at my insistence) Sense and Sensibility. There I was laughing out loud and reading Dave Barry. I stand by my choice.

Then, a little more than twenty four hours after reading those articles, I attended the Uriah Heep concert on the river here in Rochester. My colleague, Cadi, was there with her new roommate and her boyfriend, and my friend Derek came down with some of his Morris people. Friends, let me tell you, Uriah Heep is not a fantastic band. I spent a lot of the concert either confused by songs such as what is either called "Dream on, Steven", "McGee Gets Even!", or "Rainbow Demon". The rest of the concert I spent laughing out loud and singing along to such classics as "Hit The Nail Right on the Head". Go listen to it.

What does he want you to do? He wants you to hit the nail right on the head. Over and over again! To be honest, I don't think the lead singer was lucid enough to remember the lyrics to the verses, so we pretty much only heard the chorus for about 20 minutes, which is a long time to hear that sentence. Derek and I have a great idea for his next album. Please see the possible track list below and imagine how the song would go based on what you just heard.


Uriah Heep's Household Tasks Album!

1. Wash the Soap Right Off the Plate
2. Turn that Vacuum On
3. Lather, Rinse, Repeat
4. Stir The Cream of Wheat

And that's really all that is going to fit on the album since, from what I gathered from the concert last night, all Uriah Heep songs are at between 20 minutes and an eternity long.

Anyway, Uriah Heep and Dave Barry got me thinking about bad songs and bad lyrics. There are a lot of bad songs out there, and there are some perfectly decent songs musically that have horrid lyrics. What I would like is for you to think about the worst overall song as well as what song has the worst lyrics. They could be the same song, even, if you would like. Just post as comments so that I can keep track all in one place.

It would be lovely if you could leave your post using the following template, please:

Worst Overall Song:

Reasoning:

Worst Lyrics:

Sample:

New Light Switch Plates!

I may have gone a little (extra) crazy this weekend. I have lived in my apartment for almost a year now, and I am tired of looking at the dirty light switch plates and holes in the wall that were supposed to be fixed before I moved in. So, on Sunday, I started taking matters into my own hands.

With the intent of buying Spackle and browsing around for everything else, I packed my mis-matched Sunday-afternoon self into my car, baseball hat and all, and drove over to the hardware store. There I found many wonderful things. It was hard not to look around and imagine really – really – fixing the place up. I saw light fixtures I would love to have hung up, as well as new blinds for the bedroom.

It kind of made me wish I owned my own house. And then for about 1 scary minute in the bathroom fixture aisle, I thought it would be a good idea for me to own a house. Then I realized that was silly. Still, the more I think about it, the more I am starting to believe that if I make it through next year, then plan on staying longer, I should consider buying a little one or two bedroom house. But my crazy is starting to digress from the original topic here.

I ended up buying a metal switch plate for the kitchen and a bunch of blank wooden switch plates and some paint for the other rooms. Then, I bought my spackle, my spackle-spreader-thing that I can’t remember the name of right now, but knew it by name to ask for it in the store, and picked up a bunch of paint samples.

Call me crazy (and some of you have), but I am thinking of repainting the living room kind of an orange color. Right now it is pale blue, and the color swatch taped to my wall that I keep looking at is called “orange toffee”. I really like it. As for the bedroom, I don’t really care for the shade of yellow in there right now, and after I patch the holes, I won’t care for the white blobs either, I am guessing. Perhaps the bedroom needs to be done in kind of that pale purple-blue color called “spa” or the brighter “green grapes”. The next step will obviously be buying small samples of the paints and painting them on the wall to stare at them for a while.

That’s the way adults do it, right? They decide to pick one small household project, then it snowballs into more and more complicated and large-scale endeavors. When painting, the first tape papers to the wall and stare at it for a week, then paint little patches and stare at that for a week. 

Below are pictures of the light switch plates I painted on Sunday. It took me all afternoon and most of the evening. I just finished the one for the office last night and haven’t had a chance to take a picture, so it is not in the mini gallery below. Just so you know, though, it is bright green with connected white, purple, blue, and yellow swirly and squiggly lines. It turned out alright, and considering it is my least favorite, it is fine by me that it is in the room least visited. The light switch outside the back door is orange and says "Welcome" as well as my last name in cursive. The switch plate for the kitchen is not pictured because I did not in any way artify it. It is a shiny metal switch plate that looks like it has tire treads, so that's cool.

Bedroom light switch before. Yuck!

 

 Gross black switch plate in living room. Don't worry. It is gone now.

 Now the switch plate in the bathroom perfectly matches the rug and the ribbon on the curtain!

 This is much more interesting, although more feminine than I would usually go. Still, I'm kind of proud of it.

 A closer look at the bedroom switch plate.

 Whoa! The living room switch plate is WAY more exciting now, right? 

Too bad I couldn't really paint the straight lines!

 Now the hallway is all musical. Between the fuzzy music notes hanging 

from the light fixture and this, guests are going to start thinking I like music!

 Side view

You Know You're Old When.....(Part 1)

You know you're old when you want to tell off teenagers for making out in public.

I'm officially an old lady. If you thought the tea-drinking lady in her pajamas, cat in lap, listening to jazz music and going to bed by 10:00pm of last winter was old, you ain't seen nothin' yet.

Yesterday I went to dollar bowling night with other Ivy and Ashley. Yes, against my better judgment, I went out bowling after 9:00pm on a Monday night with work the next day. Sometimes I like to remind myself that I am young and can do such things. It was kind of nice, too, because even though I didn't get home until after 10:30 (almost 11! Gasp!), I did not pay for it today. I was as chipper as ever, which was good because my students nearly drove me to the brink of insanity and back again.

But I'll get back to the original point.

For some reason, they put us three down at the farthest lane, and even gave us a buffer lane. In the lane closest to us was about 15 teenagers. I'm not sure why there were so many teenagers sharing one lane. Also, they were like 15 years old. How did they get to the bowling alley?

The fact that there were 15 year olds out past 9:30 on a Monday night, and so many of them were sharing one lane is not what bothered me. What bothered me was that they spilled over into our seating area.

Alright, even that would have been tolerable. I do spend the better part of my week in a room with teenagers.

What really bothered me was that they were sitting in our area totally making out and groping. Groping! Like hands where they shouldn't be grabbing, sitting on top of each other with visible tongue action groping! I mean, I was a teenager once, and sure I was kind of frisky with the boyfriend at the time, but I would never, NEVER, have been as handsy in public at that age.*

And then I knew I was old because I wanted to go over and tell those 15 year olds that not only were they too young for such shenanigans, but that no one wanted to see that and cut it out! Making out and groping is not to be done in public!

To top it all off, even when we left at about 10:35, those teenagers were still bowling and groping. Sigh. Golly gee willickers do I feel old.

*Not when people were watching, anyway.