Fall Cleaning: What The Hell Was I Thinking

So another one of the rites of my childhood is rearing its ugly head this week. Fall cleaning. 

Note the bottle is almost empty

I remember as a kid every spring and fall as soon as the leaves would begin to change colors, my mother would begin to tear the house apart, cleaning every wall, ceiling, cabinet, radiator, window and piece of furniture in the house. In a home without a dishwasher, every single glass, plate and pot would be washed, because god forbid, the humongous oval platter on the top shelf may need to be used in front of company and there might be dust on it...OMFG, what would we do then. Ok, she did not say omfg, but yeah, what would we do then? Well I would take it down and wash it, and not really give a shit because everyone of my friends probably had a dusty oval platter on the top shelf of their cabinet too. But I digress.

Anyway, the cleaning would progress on her internal schedule to line up to a week or so before Christmas and Easter, when fresh curtains would be up on the windows...signaling the official end of the sanitizing process.

I am not quite the cleaner my mother was.

I do have my moments when the instincts are unleashed, and I begin a week-long spurt where I am attached at the hip to my dear friend Mr. Clean. This is one of those weeks, and the project is the kitchen. And, as satisfying as it is to clean out some drawers and cabinets, it is exhausting and quite frankly overrated.

Now, as I hate to cook during the week, and do most of my cooking at the weekend house, my cabinet with dry goods and that kind of stuff will often contain outdated items. It is such fun to look at some of the cake mixes and pastas to see just how long it has been since I last cleaned in there. Thankfully, today was garbage pick-up...hope those boys didn't pull anything picking up that bag.

I have four more cabinets, two windows, the stove, the refrigerator and a partridge in a pear tree left to do. My enthusiasm is waning, and we are only into the first week of fall. This does not bode well for cleaning the rest of the house.

Over the years my mother learned the error of her cleaning ways. She actually said to me one day, "What the hell were we thinking back then?" She and I have come up with a new mantra for the little bit of cleaning we now do.

"It's better than it was."
Not quite Hemingway, but then I bet he never washed windows.

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It's True, I Wouldn't Pull Your...

I swear this is not the way I was gonna start the week.

On Saturday, I read a tweet about a certain story and I bookmarked it, and thought I would use it at some point.  But today...well there was another quote from the Buffoon, and I just could not let either one go.

So we will just talk about both of them.

Did you hear about the newest invention by the Chinese? It seems they have developed a Sperm Extractor. uh huh. oh yeah. Why do for yourself when you can have a technology do it for you. Yes indeed, it seems that the Chinese have come up with a machine that gives blow jobs. Now it is being advertised as a method in assisting fertility patients who may have trouble extracting sperm using the old-fashioned method.  But I'm sorry... It is what it is.

The story also mentions there is a video screen which plays films to help with the extraction process. However it did not mention if the film was a User Manual or a film of someone using a more manual method.

You really have to see this to believe it, and here is the link to the story which contains a video of a demonstration...though sadly, only with a finger, not a penis.
Sperm Extractor Video

My question is...when this machine was ready for human trials...who the hell stood in line as a volunteer? Is there really a man alive who would really stick it in, let a machine grab hold and not less go until...well, clinically speaking...the sperm has been extracted? Yikes.

Second story on today's list is the latest from you guessed it...Rush. Dear god, as long as I write a blog, please keep him around. Seems old Rush now has proclaimed that women are responsible for shriveling dicks. He said it not me.

A story by Hello Ladies on blogher.com, included an audio clip of Limbaugh blaming the downsizing of the average man by 10%, not on the environmental reasons listed in an Italian study, but rather by "FeminNazi's" In the gospel according to Rush, the last 50 years of women burning bras has caused...well shrinkage. I admit it, the man leaves me speechless.

Now if we could only get Rush to try out the Chinese Sperm Extractor. Wouldn't that be fun?

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Shoop, Shoop...What?

If you've read my Life blog with any frequency, you would know that we usually go to the weekend house on Friday afternoons. You might also know I do some shopping for supplies before we leave. At Shop-Rite. Where I have many issues...starting with the cashiers, the protocol and sometimes, the other shoppers.

The one thing I do not have an issue with is their choice of music. But first, a little background. Our friend, "the uncle" usually shows up at the house most weekends as well. More often than not, he drives in from the city and we end up meeting in Shop-Rite. Things are just cheaper in Jersey than in New York, so he does his weekly shopping and we co-ordinate cooking choices for the weekend. Our meeting kind of just happened once or twice, though now we try to time it that way.

Anyway, back to the music thing. On more than one occasion we have talked about the music being played in Shop-Rite and how we have both been known to a) sing while pushing the cart, b) dance down the aisle or c) a combination of the two (which really isn't very pretty).

Yesterday I was in Shop-Rite first. My phone rang and my response was Aisle 14, by the meat. Soon I spied "the uncle" pushing his cart in my direction...just as "The Shoop Shoop Song (It's in His Kiss)" came over the speaker system. Well I don't know about you, but there's no way I can listen to any of those 60's girl group songs without singing or dancing.

I look at "the uncle," he looks at me...he starts to dance, I start to lip sync and do my best hand expressions and...that's when it got real crowded and people started looking at us...what? All of a sudden there was a crowd of people pushing their carts between us and giving us the side eye...what?

I'm sorry people of Shop-Rite, but life is too freakin' short and no way I will suppress joy, especially if there is music involved. Let the child within you reach out. All I know is while 30 or so people looked pathetically at two middle-aged people enjoying the mundane task of food shopping, we were getting our groove on for the weekend.

Did we look ridiculous...probably. Do I care...not for a minute. I had a reason to smile yesterday, hope I do everyday.

shoop, shoop.

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Over The River...

There is something so life-renewing about spending the evening in New York City.

While I will eternally consider myself a Jersey Girl (thank you Tom Waits and Bruce), I have spent quite a lot of time in NYC.  First as a kid, when mom would take me to Broadway shows, then later as a early teenager sneaking into the city for nothing more exciting than to walk the streets and be intoxicated by the dynamic which surrounds you.

Later, there was school, work and living in the city. But the one thing which drew me into New York more than anything else was the music. The venues, both large and small offered an overflowing bounty of sounds from every genre. It still does.

Last night I was able to spend another night in the city with the end game seeing a new band. But as always, getting there is half the fun.

An easy drive over the George Washington Bridge, as well as non-existent traffic down the west side, put me in one fine mood. And the view of the sun going down over Jersey as you ride parallel to the Hudson River, always puts a smile on my face.

Getting across town can get pretty dicey sometimes, especially when the POTUS is in town. Thankfully, I missed him by one day and, even getting from one river to the river on the other side of the island, was smooth. Finding a parking space not too far from the venue was even smoother.

Meeting up with the rest of the crew, a great dive bar with $3 beers was the first destination. And the great thing about this place is they don't serve food, but you can order some in. So that's what we did...ordered delivery from a Korean restaurant, and drank our $3 beers. For those not from the area, a $3 beer in NYC is something like the T-Rex....extinct. Double that is the going rate...I know it sounds crazy, unless you've paid $17 bucks for a Cosmopolitan or fancy Martini. That's when a $6 beer seems like a bargain. But I digress.

With the temperature as close to perfect as you can get, the walk from the bar to the venue, Webster Hall, was easy and enjoyable. Now it was time to breathe in new music. Worthwhile...definitely, but more about that later.

Heading back to Jersey was pretty easy as well. Passed through the Meadowlands before the traffic from the Springsteen concert at the stadium let out. I hear Bruce was rockin' it pretty good last night too.

All in all, a good night. When it includes music, they usually are.

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Watching the Sky

As I begin to write this blog, the wind is picking up and the next round of the storm is getting closer. We are in a tornado watch, something which doesn't occur in northeast Jersey very often.

There is a certain fascination with severe weather. Now, I'm not talking storm chaser crazy, just the excitement that builds as the forecast begins to include your area. Take hail for example. When we see these TV reports showing hail the size of golf balls, a normal first reaction is "cool."  And it is, unless it's in your neighborhood and that hail is putting golf ball size dents into the hood of your brand new car.

Or hurricane strength winds. Wow, is the general reaction while watching them tear off roofs and pull up billboards. NOOOOO, is the reaction when the wind has just lobbed a street sign through your living room window.

Yes, there is something romantic about being inside your cozy home and watching the weather unfold outdoors. Trees swaying in the wind, thunder, lightning, pouring rain...all totally enjoyable until the power goes out. While if you had chosen to sit in the dark and enjoy the show of Mother Nature, there is a whole different feel when the electric goes out and it is no longer your choice.

No lights, no TV, no internet...nothing. Just you and your loved ones. Then it starts to kick in...what the hell do we do now. Suddenly it is not romantic. Suddenly the room is closing in and you are bored to tears. All enjoyment of the storm has been replaced with wondering just how long we will have to endure this torture.

Right now the storm is about an hour away, it should be here just around sundown. Perfect timing for a power outage.

Wow, isn't it just beautiful outside?
Now where are the flashlights...

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