Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Pretty Old in Pink

From time to time you'll see things that make you question reality like "Will Smith is older than Uncle Phil was in the first season on Fresh Prince!" or "We're further removed now from 'That 70's Show' than we were from the 70s when 'That 70's Show' began!" those kind of facts that make you retweet them with an "OMG!!" but you never quite let it sink in. It's so surreal that doesn't even hold proper weight. For me anyway.

There is one thing that makes me feel older than every fun fact in the land. 

Annie Potts' character in Pretty in Pink. 

I'm not joking. 

This movie came out in 1986. 

In 1986 I was a spunky 9 or 10 year old depending on what part of the year you want to go. I loved John Hughes movies and Molly Ringwald and pink and if I loved anything more than anything it was the 1960s. Very little has changed about me, by the way which is probably why this Annie Potts knife is so sharp. 

Let's break down the facts. As a 10 year old I looked up to Annie Potts's (extra s, no s? I don't remember) character, Iona as an older woman, "middle aged" I had assumed because I was 10 and because I did some math and based on this ensemble 

and that she danced to that horrible song "Cherish" by The Association, that put her in her mid 30s. Also known as old. But I was so looking forward to being like her when I was old. 

In about 3 weeks I'll turn 38. THIRTY EIGHT, PEOPLE! That makes me OLDER than "old lady, Iona". 

Holy crap!! And what's she doing hanging out with a 17 year old?? Or kissing Duckie?? 

I've just gained a whole new perspective. 

Fun Fact: if this movie were out today and I was Iona, (and I went to prom), I would be dancing with some child girl to Undone: The Sweater Song by weezer. 

As I look off into the distance and remember a time long ago, softly singing out of tune while the teenager rolls her eyes and smiles. "If you want to destroy my sweater, whoa oo whoa oo whoa pull this thread as I walk away."

Fitting. Unlike Andi's excuse for a repurpose.

Speaking of that horrible prom dress, I stumbled upon this amazing analysis of it. 

And even worse???? At the end of the Iona story, she meets a dude and dresses like a grown up. "NO WAY!" I'd think. Even that blog post about the horrible prom dress that I just linked to alludes to the absurdity.

Here's where the old lady water starts to get a little too comfortable.

When I take Wally to school, I always feel like I'm dressing like a child. I wear my t-shirts and my comfy pants and I kind of don't really dress like an adult. I dress like me, but I don't dress my age.

So I can get behind Iona's decision to be old lady. I get it. If I were looking to be taken seriously by people my own age, which I kind of feel like I want to be at times, well, it's not really a stretch. After years of trying to stand out, you get to a point were you just kind of want to fit in again.


Monday, June 23, 2014

Amy vs America's Housekeeping Book - Kitchen grime edition

Hi. Did you miss me? I have been very busy, my friends. I got swooped into Wally's school's PTA, I have a sewing job to-do list that is becoming its own member of the household and I'm just getting over some wretched flu situation. Oh, and it's summer break so I kind of have to pay attention to the kids. And the stress that my house is a horrendous disaster at all times is making me want to throw in the towel and live like those hoarder people we all pity on the TLC shows.

So I made a pact with myself. I am going to try to not give a second thought about what I'm failing at. 

It's never going to work. 

But I've decided to prioritize. 

1. Children. 

2. Laundry because my husband doesn't need to be going to work looking like homeless. 

3. Sewing work because money.
4. Do ONE thing a day that will better the house. Like yesterday, no not yesterday, I was lying on the couch wishing for a coma yesterday, but before this flu, possibly Thursday, I finally threw out weeks of newspapers that my husband had been piling up under an end table, presumably for the coupons. Then Friday, the day the flu came rustling in, I did laundry AND dusted the bookshelf in my bedroom AAAANNNNDD finished up a coffee sack messenger bag (coming soon to an etsy shop near you) And I'm pretty sure that I overdid it on Friday and that's what made me sick. So the universe is telling me to relax. Message received, Universe. 

So, as usual, I was looking for trouble over on the Pinterest when I came across this. Don't worry, I don't crossfit. 

So this apparent Jillian Michaels quote is my house motivation. EFFORT not perfection. I can do it, Jillian! 

So my thing of today, other than the laundry I just did, is the stove. Again. I just did it the other day but somebody, I'm not naming names, but possibly a stranger? comes in and cooks and doesn't clean up after himself when he makes a large mess. 

Tongue bit. 


Okay book. Pgs 247-250 are basically telling me to stop letting my husband cook. Take it down a notch, book. I'm not quite ready to go back to meal making. It's not 1943 okay. 

Anyway, my stove. I took the burners and knobs off and soaked them all morning in dish soap and fake Pine-Sol and super hot water because they had yesterday's brunch cooked into them. I do wish I would've read the book first about boiling them with washing soap. Next time

And then I got down to business. First of all, I try to use the least amount of chemical stuff as possible, not because I'm a hippie or opposed to strong as butt chemicals because, they work and I don't have to scrub as hard and I'm lazy and I don't care what you have to say about it, but because of the boys. If either kid gets ahold of something I'm cleaning with, I'd like them to not go blind or "cornnuuuuuuuuuts" it into a glass table.

 Also why I removed all the glass tables. So I try to use as much vinegar and baking soda and all them other tricks as much as I can, but let me let you in on a little secret. It's all crap. This cheap, knockoff Pine-Sol is a grease cutting machine, though! And I've only just discovered this. Because I've been trying to get kitchen grease off with whatever Pinterest tells me I should- vinegar, oil, baking soda, lemon skins. All crap.

This stuff is harmful to humans and animals alike so you know it works. It's my kind of clean! And look at that sponge! Ew. I think that thing is trash bound as soon as I get done with this blog post. 

So this is what I'm working against. 

Don't you judge me. 

This is what it looked like when we moved in 10 years ago except more bug carcasses. I'm not joking. And I've never been able to get this stuff off, it is pure grease and now cat hair and it just smears onto the hood whenever you touch it and then a new stalagtite forms in its place in about a week. It's like kitchen nature. 

Also, I don't know why I don't have a hood screen or light cover but I never have. And if we ever move, I'm sure my landlord will charge us for a new one. 

I'll put it on my "things to buy at Home Depot" list. 

So UNDELUDED (make sure you're wearing your yellow gloves!) pour this poison right onto a scrubby sponge (the scrub part is also important to the workings) and go to town. It wipes fairly easily off. I don't think I took a picture of the top of my hood (with all the dust that accumulated into the grease making it look a grayish brown textured thing) but that crap wiped right off. 

Oh, and my stalagtite? 

It did nothing for the rust though. Pretty sure this hood has been here since the building was built in 1954. I'll forgive it.

And then I wiped down the stove that wasn't too bad since I just deep cleaned it a couple of days ago and I was only battling day old grease 

Okay, it still looks bad but that is some burned on stuff that will only be released with possibly a razor blade and wizard magic or some other suggestion you have for me? 

So voila! Or "wha la!" Like I saw on a Pinterest pin and can't stop giggling about. And I'm done for the day. If I want to be. No pressure. I did my one thing, actually also laundry and I just remembered that I forgot to make the beds today. 

I'm sick! Give me a break. 

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