Open Letter: Dear Clothing Companies

Clothing should be soft. Comfortable. Something you want to live in. News flash: Scratchy tags do not fall into this category. I understand you want to draw my attention to the fact that my shirt is made in China, as well as being “fabrique en Chine” in addition to being “hecho en China” but once I’m aware of that fact, I don’t really need to be reminded. Every second. So please understand that I will probably want to remove said scratchy tag. Therefore, when you attach scratchy tags, could you NOT sew the tag into a critical part of the seam so that removing the tag causes the entire shirt to fall apart? Hmm? Pretty please? Too much to ask??!!

Let’s play, what would you do…

Your kids have been beating each other up all weekend long. You’re all sitting on the couch watching TV, the kids are fighting with each other (nothing new), you are overcome with tiredness and actually fall asleep on the couch.

When you wake up, the kids are no longer in the room, and the house is quiet. You:

a) Go upstairs and look for the blood trail. It can’t possibly be this quiet in the house without one of them killing the other.

b) Go back to sleep. Whatever the problem is (and you’re SURE there’s a problem somewhere!) you just don’t want to know.

The best place to solve my problems…

... is in the shower. Seriously. I don’t know what it is, but if I walk into the shower with a problem circulating in my head, I usually have an answer, or at least a direction on how to solve it by the time I’m done washing my hair. I’m not sure whether this is because by virtue of my being in the shower and having removed myself from the source of the problem I make myself open to new ideas instead of just coming back around to the same solutions (that didn’t work) – or the fact that it takes me a really long time to wash my hair and you could probably figure out how to solve world hunger in the time it takes me to get shampoo out of my curls.

In either case, this morning, for what must be the millionth time, Sam and I argued about discussed the lack of storage space in our house. We argued about discussed the fact that my only method of storing clothes is my dresser and that it doesn’t have enough space. We argued about discussed the fact that while our closet would probably be a better place, it is poorly designed and therefore does not fit the bill. We argued about discussed the fact that our closet is also being used as a medicine cabinet as well as a linen closet because our bathroom doesn’t actually have one. (See original discussion about house lacking storage space). We argued about discussed the fact that getting a different dresser wouldn’t necessarily fix the current problem – because unless we got something MASSIVE (and that would also look really out of place in the bedroom), I still wouldn’t have enough space.

Really this house amazes me. Somehow they managed to squeeze in 5 bedrooms in this little tiny house… but the storage space is lacking so severely – that if you really had enough people to FILL all 5 bedrooms… I honestly don’t know what you’d do.

In any case, the dilemma has existed for over 4 years. We have lived in this house longer than we have lived in any other single residence. Yet, we have never solved this problem. I still dig my clothes out of the plastic bins that we used to move here from Massachusetts, and these ugly plastic bins decorate our bedroom because I have no idea what else to do.

The problem went around and around in my head when I stepped into the shower today. And I came out with plan!!!! The closet is the answer. It needs to be completely gutted and redesigned – but that is how to fix the problem. We set up the closet a certain way, and certain things got stuck in my head, thinking that’s where they had to stay – but really there wasn’t any requirement to keep them that way.

So basically I need a wall unit with tons of drawers and shelves for my closet. I have everything spec’d out. I even went to IKEA thinking I’d be able to get what I’d need, but unfortunately, what they have is 3 inches too long and will bump into the closet door and not allow it to open or shut. So on Monday, I’ll need to call some other places and see what they can do. I hope that since I already have it designed, and measured and I know exactly what I want that it won’t be too expensive, but I guess we’ll find out.

not-so-thirty-something

...and thus begins my last year as a “thirty-something”. Of course merely saying that kind of puts the whole use of the phrase “thirty-something” to waste and gives away my age. Oh well.

I let too many days slip by without notice. Holidays included. It’s not good. Time passes too quickly to not be mindful of it. I think that’s one of the points of having a holiday – if for no other reason to notice the passage of time. I’m not having any kind of party. We probably won’t even go out to dinner. There’ll be no cake or candles. We really don’t have any specific plans until next week. The actual day of my birthday will be pretty uneventful. So, I’ll need to try and do something – if for no other reason so it doesn’t slip by unnoticed by even myself.

It’s kind of ironic, when did birthdays become so un-fun? Zachary walks through a grocery store and can pick out a dozen things he wants for his “next birthday” (yes, he just had his birthday). These presents he wants can range from things as simple as a box of cereal to as complicated as a trampoline. But even though it’s just barely a week past his birthday, the excitement for the next one is already building. But for me? I feel like something is missing. It’s not that I dread birthdays because of age (although I do dread getting older in general), it’s like there’s still that anticipation but for something that never comes.

I don’t know. I do know that I can probably learn a lot from this guy. I hope if I lived to be 113 I could be so eloquent.

Spaghetti Squash, You FAKE!

Maybe it’s not really Spaghetti Squash’s fault. We don’t normally give ourselves our own name. But to whoever gave Spaghetti Squash it’s name has misled an army of dieters.

I dare you to go on a diet forum and make a post that says something like “I know I could do a better job sticking to my diet if I could just eat more pasta!” You will, I can almost guarantee it, bring out some well-meaning but misinformed person who will happily give you this golden piece of advice “Have you tried Spaghetti Squash!” 😀

I have desperately tried to embrace Spaghetti Squash, and I have desperately tried to fool myself into believing that it could replace spaghetti, and coming to the cold hard conclusion that no matter how hard I try – Spaghetti Squash is as far from it’s pasta namesake as green beans is from chocolate. Really. When someone pipes in and says “Have you tried Spaghetti Squash?!” I feel like responding “No. I haven’t eaten poop yet either, but I’m pretty sure it’s not spaghetti either!” (No, I don’t say that but I think it really loud)

Maybe it’s my fault too. I’m such a horrible cook. If I could make delicious homemade healthy dinners, deiting and healthy living would be so much easier. Instead, I grab a recipe for Spaghetti Squash off the internet. And I dress up the VEGETABLE (It IS a vegetable. Vegetable != Pasta!!!! M’kay?) like it’s a drag queen pasta dish, and it tastes simply awful.

So my final conclusion. Spaghetti Squash: You only vaguely resemble spaghetti in shape, but you are nothing like the goodness that is carb-filled pasta. You don’t taste like spaghetti. You don’t smell like spaghetti. If you cook just a minute too long you become a mushy mess and then you don’t even come close to looking like spaghetti. YOU, my fine veggie friend, are an imposter of the worst kind. You make people think they can eat a spaghetti dish that has next to no calories. You fill my dinner with dreams and promises and then you don’t deliver. You are a charlatan. A fraud!!

I dare any of you to come up with a recipe using spaghetti squash that 1) I can make without screwing up, 2) I can make quickly because not only do I suck at cooking, I hate doing it too, so the sooner I’m out of the kitchen and into the dinning room the better, and 3) that doesn’t taste like poo. I dare you. Because I know it can’t be done. HA!