Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

A Brief Shining Moment on Black Friday

On Black Friday, Gary called his sister and suggested we all give each other two presents and that will be it. (And the angel chorus sings.)

Unfortunately, during the same conversation the sister-in-law said, "I always buy lots of plastic and paper supplies for Mom and Dad, but ... I'll just put them in a big storage box and that will be one present."

"You can't call that one present!" I called out loudly enough to get through the receiver, "Now he'll just put everything in two refrigerator boxes."

And of course, that's his new plan. But for just a moment, Christmas was manageable. 

Even if we need a forklift to get Gary's Mom's "two presents" in the house, at least another decision was made: no "errand-running" presents. If you want a simple desk fan from Walgreen's, get it yourself. All presents will be a surprise. (Speaking of the owl fan, we're fairly certain that's one of the two presents we'll be getting from the Wonderfuls.)

This means there's a lot of pressure on the two presents. Gary's Mom needs a toaster, and I had to take this box out of his hands.

 
He did some quick Blackberry research. "People LOVE their Back-to-Basics Egg and Muffin toasters! They say it makes breakfast and doesn't make any dishes."

I think they had him at "Back to Basics," because REALLY what is more basic than eating only one item for breakfast, ever? How about a machine into which your pour milk, flour, and eggs, then at a programmed time in the early morning it deep fries a raw donut in some boiling oil? And then another machine that rolls out an omelet. I'm lazy enough to let a machine make my food, I just don't want to give up counter real estate for each dish.

The size turned him against the toaster above, plus she wants an easy-to-clean toaster. Unfortunately the Blackberry has told Gary that brushed stainless steel is the easiest to clean. Has anyone else heard this lie? I keep holding up display toasters and counting the fingerprints with him.

ScienceWoman also speculates what the relation is between Pricing and Performance of Bass Guitars

Well, I did try on the Smartwools and every step in those socks was like getting a footrub. Initially. As so often happens, they got bored and didn't put as much energy into pleasing me as they did at the beginning of the day. And then I saw this comment sent from an actual SockMeister, Robert Chesebro Jr.:

Dear Queen of Mediocreta of Surbubia,
I am writing to you about your sock dilemma given that I have 50 years of experience making socks since I am the President and CEO of Wigwam Mills, Inc.You questioned whether there is a relationship between between sock pricing and performance. As a general rule there is. However I should point out to you that although Smart Wool is a fairly widely known sock brand they don't make any of the socks they sell. They contract the manufacturing of them to both domestic companies and also some in the Far East. Wigwam makes the all socks they market and sell them under the Wigwam brand. And we do it all in the USA. Also there is a general propensity from my experience for manufacturers that make socks to make them too tight so that they are binding on your leg. That need not be the case. Wigwam has been in business for 104 years and I am the third generation President and owner of the company. Let me know what sort of socks you are looking for along with your size and I will send you a pair. And take a look at our web site ( www.wigwam.com ) to see the variety of socks we make. Use our sock finder to identify the type of socks you are seeking.
Sincerely,

Bob Chesebro

Of course, this presents ScienceWoman with an ethical conundrum. I can't possibly take free socks, that would completely skew my results. It is important that I pay full on-line price for the socks and follow the same protocol as I did for the others.

So, I did use the Sock Finder Search feature, focused on the material "silk" and found these socks:

  
 
And it was easy enough to Google them and find them at TravelCountry.com. They were $11.16, on sale from $13. Isn't that an interesting pattern? I'm almost sad it isn't going to leave an imprint on my legs.

I would feel completely objective now, only the other vendors didn't leave a comment that contained a well-turned phrase like "the type of socks you are seeking."

Thanks!

It seems wrong to give thanks if I had some credit in what I'm thankful for. Like, I'm thankful for my husband, but I picked him. I'm thankful for having financial stability. Well, who do I have to thank for that? That would be me. (Wha - did you just say "You could thank your Mom for dying and including you in her will" - you did not just say that! You are so bad.)

In the same vein, I can't give thanks for friends, because I had to overcome my natural shyness to make friends with them. (I AM shy. That's why I don't have kids: I don't want strangers sleeping in my house.)

So, now that I've disqualified anything I can take even partial credit for, I have a manageable list.

1) My Health. What is this, fifteen years with MS? I just had the yearly neuro check-up and he confirms that for the most part I am standing pat. Unless I am standing on one foot with my eyes closed, then I am not pat, I fall down after two seconds. When I first started getting neuro exams I could stand on one foot with my eyes closed for seven seconds, then it was five, and this last time it was two. I told Gary this and we found neither of us could stand more than two seconds with our eyes closed unless we held on to each other, and then it was easy.

2) My Remaining Family, all one of them. My brother Dave just hit nineteen years of sobriety. This is akin to me dieting successfully for nineteen years.

3) The Grocery Store. When I get to the cashier I often wonder, why is she asking me what this vegetable is? Am I the only person who eats jicama? Then I wonder how long you'd have to be a cashier to see everything at the local Schnuck's or Dierberg's. Then I get the urge to eat deep-fried corn husks or whatever else exotic thing I see on the shelves.

4) Friendly strangers (not the kind of strangers who show up in your house and terrorize you, i.e. children). The staff at our new cafeteria is very friendly. One woman made a point of telling me I "always have the most interesting necklaces." I now go visit her station whenever I'm wearing a necklace. It delights me. Because I am vain. And this is where you come in: readers, you are the friendliest strangers ever. In fact, one of you is in France and reading everything in chronological order. Hi! (Waves vigorously at France.) Hi France! Oh, no, now France is shy. Shh. Don't pay any attention to France.

5) Turkey. So humans developed a bird so dry that you are required to serve it with thickened fat (gravy) and bread soaked in fat (dressing) and vegetables mixed with deep-fat fried vegetable (green bean casserole).

I could go on but Gary is insisting I stop typing and start making green bean casserole. Bye! Thanks again!

Sock-off

ScienceWoman returns. This time I am doing a control study on socks: Does Sock Expense Parallel Sock Quality?

Four brand-new socks were purchased for this purpose.

Group A: Socks from the grocery store.
Price: $5.00
 

Group B: Pantherella Socks
Price: $13.00
 

Group C: Smartwool "Best Friend" socks.
Price: $17.00

Group D:  Marcoliani My house is paid off Socks
Price: $65.00
 

About that last pair - I know! Stop yelling at me! 

• It's a silk-cashmere blend. Tiny little sweaters for my feet.
• Socks are my hobby.  
• Maybe they last 12 times as long as the grocery store socks.
• Maybe I can get a science grant.
• Gary actually paid for them with One-Click Amazon, so they're an early Christmas gift.
• Maybe they'll make my ankles look thin.
• You can tell they're European because they point to the other side of the road.

So, Smartwool and grocery store socks have been purchased and are in a safe controlled environment. (Any hand-knit socks are not in the competition because of course, they are automatically superior.) When all the subjects are assembled, socks will be evaluated for:

Slouchiness
Elasticity
Scratchiness
Shin Exfoliation properties
Unsolicited Compliments
Warmth
Washability (hope none are dry-clean only)
Pilling
Toe and Heel Wear
Elevation of Self-Esteem
Risky-Business Skiddability
Smell Resistance

So, soon the sock-off will begin. Wagering allowed in Nevada and New Jersey.

Alarming News

Way too many alarming stories in the news today.

1) Lou Dobbs is "mulling" a White House bid.  I cannot imagine Lou Dobbs mulling anything, but supposedly he's only at DefCon Mull.  If indeed he did mull, the mull would quickly intensify and we'd at DefCon Consider and nuking Miami.  

2) Behold, the Son of Man[son].  This story made me worry about the numbered Friends: one is searching for blood relations and one just discovered blood relations. Happily, none of them found they were Charles Manson once removed.

3) Where is this guy's blog? I bet he's full of pent-up comments, being misdiagnosed as vegetative when he was sentient for 23 years. I know he's writing a book with his foot, but how long will that take?

Speaking of unresponsive people with blogs: Terry Shiavo had a blog. (Don't click this link unless you are sure there is no Hell for you.)

A Story From Gary

I do wish Gary was awake so I could just transcribe the story he told me when I came home from work. I'll do my best from memory.

Gary took the dog on a walk this evening. This was what Gary would describe as a "doggie walk," as opposed to the alternative, a "daddy walk." A daddy walk is when Mac leads the way while Gary just holds the leash. (Having to think about it? It took a while for me to figure out Gary is "Daddy." I just don't see him that way.)

Tonight, though, it was a doggie walk. At some point in the walk the two encountered a huge dog. 

(I assumed at first it was the friendly neighborhood mastiff who breaks into houses through any medium or large dog door. We have no dog door, so I haven't come home to a strange horse-sized dog. But Gary said, "No, this dog was huge. It just had to come off its front paws a little and it was nose to nose with me." I started to argue that was the mastiff but I let it go.)

So as Gary related, the Big Dog was staring at Mac the way Mac stares at flank steak. Gary swept Mac up and held him over his head as Big Dog started to lean in and sniff. Gary turned his back on Big Dog to further protect Mac. Big Dog came around front. Gary turned his back on the Big Dog. Gary kept pivoting in a circle until a neighbor drove up.

"Are those your dogs?" the neighbor asked.

"Just this one," Gary laughed, holding Mac up further. Mac was being vewy vewy qwiet.

"Here Dog!" cried the neighbor in the car. "Come here!"

Big Dog kept circling with Gary.

"Here Doggie!" (Kissy noises from the neighbor.)

This distracted Big Dog and Gary was able to make his escape. Gary and Mac came in and Mac promptly barfed; dizzy, no doubt.

Best and Worst Time of Year!

So everyone's bitching about how early Christmas decorations went up this year - before Thanksgiving, even. But don't you know that just means Retrospective Time comes even sooner?

Ask me how many hours I just spent on Time's Best and Worst site. Granted, some lists apply to 2008, but this list had a particular appeal to me: The Five Worst Inventions of 2009. I bought Pride and Prejudice for Zombies (and was that a slog of a read) and I almost bought the Wonderful's a Snuggie for Dogs. But seriously, how would you wash a gas-mask bra?

And if anyone needs a sensor that can read my facial expressions at work, I do.

Tasteless

For a while, Mom's annual birthday gift was the latest copy of the Truly Tasteless Joke books. She also was a particular fan of the no arms and no legs jokes. (There is a notable omission on that link. "Who's The Guy With No Arms and No Legs and no Tongue Hanging on the Wall?" "Tasteless Art." I don't know how they missed that.)

I was thinking about taste when I heard the NPR interview of The Onion the other day, and they were talking about The Onion's response to 9/11. In another article they mentioned the headline axed from the 9/11 issue, "America Stronger Than Ever, Say Quadragon Officials." I was waiting for them to tell the NPR reporter, but the interview didn't go there. So I wondered, was it still too callous?

I remember renting party supplies for Christmas 2001, and everyone in line agreed they didn't feel like Christmas this year because of the attacks. And every year I wonder if it's time for someone to take a flour shower on Halloween and go as a WTC almost-victim. I mean, there is this, but that's someone dressed up as the buildings.

And here is where I meant to ask, "How long after the Kennedy assassination before people started dressing up as Jackie in blood-stained Chanel?" but evidently they didn't, or they were not photographed. Look, they won't even do it in Chicago.

Speaking of tasteless costumes, was I the only one who saw a child at her door on Halloween in blackface? And an afro wig? I didn't do more than look in horror because the child was also wearing a football jersey, and I thought perhaps this white child might really admire Doug Williams.

Perhaps there's a fifty-year grace period, like there was with Nazis. So, let's start looking for the bloody Chanel in 2013.

Wooooo! Woooooo!

Gary and I went to the Bruce Hornsby concert tonight. I see why Becs is so mad about him! He was very personable, and on top of that he and every musician in his band dazzled.

And Gary was damn lucky to be there, since I had initially planned to go with Anne from work, but Anne got a concussion a few nights ago and then promptly went to sleep. She lived, but wasn't up for a concert yet. The old concussion excuse. I hadn't even considered inviting Gary, but he was happy enough to step in. And then come to find out he loved it.

Sure, I was a little put off when he sat down at the piano for the first song and SANG ALMOST NO WORDS. When it was done, I leaned over to pout to Gary that "There are no words," but he was clapping high over his head and screaming "Woooo!" After a song or two I didn't even notice the lyrics because even I realized the music was amazing.  I am going to claim that what I meant was,"There are no words to express how good this is." Unless "Woooo!" counts as a word.

I recognized three songs that I had always credited to Bruce Springsteen. The drummer spun his sticks with every beat. The piano seemed to have little conversations with the other instruments. Gary kept his arm around me almost the whole time. We had three conversations: with the pigtailed girl next to me (we clucked in disgust at the people behind us who were talking), with the woman in front of us who spilled her beer (Gary offered to take the rap), and the best one, the conversation with the woman next to Gary.

"I smell smoke," I complained. "They told us when we came in this was a non-smoking show."

Gary said, with authority, "No, it's smoke from the balcony. There's smoking upstairs and it's just drifting down here."

I really thought he was just pulling that out of his ass. "Gary, I think you're wrong."

"No! That's always been the policy here at the Pageant. Every time we've been here."

This was going nowhere. "Whatever."

The woman next to Gary leaned over and said to me, "You know, I thought I heard them say when we came in this was a non-smoking show."

"Thank you!" I said.

Gary disagreed. "They've always had a smoking area in the balcony." Gary doesn't  smoke, but he was pretty devoted to this policy he'd made up.

Lady would stand for none of Gary's bullshit. "I know they said it was non-smoking."

"Thank you!" I said again to my new best friend forever.

Gary backed down. "Well, I don't know, I didn't hear anything."

Bruce said he'd come back to the Pageant. I'll have to see him again. His followers are good people.

This Could Go On Forever, or Until I Grow Up. Or, Forever.

Now that we have the chopped capon, or "cock," Gary delights in feeding the dog a fusion dish he likes to call "Cock and Goo." Gary was describing how he "plates" this dish.

"First, I suspend the dog food can over the dish, and wait until the food comes out in a perfect circle. Then I put a ring of cock around that."

I waited for it.

He continued, "A cock ring, if you will."

White Sale: Socks and Pajamas

Socks - It is time to sort through my socks. TeddyJ prefers the black, brown and gray socks, so I need to search my vast collection for those colors ... or else buy new socks. Did you know it is possible to spend $65.00 on a pair of socks? Craziness. I know I need to post about socks because it is the top topic in the Ligit search area.

People want to see socks more than Spunky Labia International Toe Porn Superstar? Socks shouldn't be so ambitious. Notice what Spunky did to Steven Page, he isn't even on the list anymore. Shh.

Jammies - Since I freely expressed how my bladder succumbed to the Wild Boar Flu, I want to let you know my urinary tract is back - better and stronger than ever! A solid week of pads wasted, there's your proof. So you know what that means ... Stinky pajamas are back. It was hell having to wash those pajamas every single night. We are on consecutive day four of the same pair. They remain sadly fragrance-free, but I know they'll get their stink on soon. And I know some of you go days without washing you pajamas, I know you do.

In Which I Mock My Commenters

Last night, Gary offered the dog some of the cooked capon white meat. I hadn't thought of any of the alternate terms for rooster until he sweetly said to the dog, "Does uums want some cock? Just a teeny little bite of cock?"

At the time, I thought a moment, then gasped, leapt up, waved my fists like a baby and rushed off to send myself an email. Then I waited. I waited for you, dear readers. I waited in vain for you to tell me what the correct term is for chicken stock made from roast rooster bones.

But of course, "cock stock."