Tiles for everthing!

Is it paranoia to suspect I have gremlins following me around moving things I have just put down?  I wasn’t paranoid before, years ago, but I didn’t have that problem then.  I’ve put “Tiles” on my two sets of keys and my purse, my most lost items.  I think I’ve already saved a couple of searching hours in the last month.

I’ve lost my wedding ring, my work keys, $1400 in cash to name a few. It’s like I spend time thinking where I should put these valuable items and then immediately forget. It’s like when I change a password, if I don’t immediately put in in my phone, I forget it. Then I have to change it a second time.

I know it is a side effect of my Bipolar condition. Memory loss. It feels more like memory slipping through my fingers.

I make jokes at work when something is missing, “have you looked in my safe place”. Of course there is no such place. More like a black hole of important never to be seen again items.

I did track down where I had left my work keys. I threw them in the trash with a plastic drop cloth I was using for painting. So now I have to lurk around waiting for another coworker so I can follow them in, or have to ring the bell. How humiliating.

Then there was the $1400 cash.  I had my furnace fixed and confidently when upstairs to get cash to pay the invoice.  I went directly to an old purse hanging in my closet. The money wasn’t there because the purse was gone, I had given it to Goodwill the week before! I frantically called Goodwill and told them my story and could they look for it.  The manager was wonderful and said she would do what she could.

While I was waiting for her to call back with triumph in her voice, I began to think. Round and round in my head, searching for a clue in my overworked brain that would lead me to another tenuous memory. Waiting for that revelation when the clues finally lead me to the money. I rummaged through everything for hours. Even places I knew the money couldn’t possibly be.

Then it happened (angel’s chorus).  I looked at the picture on my wall and all the gears slid into place. I had hidden the money behind the picture frame!  It must’ve taken it out before I put the purse in the pile for goodwill.

I love it when I am that smart! I just wish it wasn’t wasted on my scatterbrainess (made up word). I called up Goodwill and thanked them profusely.

I don’t think it’s going to end or get any better, and I haven’t come up with a system to fix it yet. Well, that may not be true. I haven’t tried attaching Tiles to all my important items with glue dots.

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What would you do for sugar?

When you really need sugar and by accident find these under your bed! They weren’t all chewy sweet tarts though.

Can you find the ibuprofen hidden in the chewy sweet tarts?

Lucky Find

What a find nestled between my many colored pens! This newly found pricey long lasting lip gloss has been given a new life!

I know a lot of women will recognize the “EPH” (SEPHORA) on the side. If you are a person, like me, that will only bring cash and leave my cards at home when going to Costco, don’t even enter SEPHORA .  You’ll involuntarily spend at least $65 by just crossing the threshold!

Lost in Lambert

The day had finally arrived!  The Adam Lambert concert was finally here!

The concert was downtown, an added, but not insurmountable challenge.  I took the extra precaution of reading their website about parking.  They had their own parking garage on the block next to them. They were making this really easy.  I have managed to get my “parknaphobia” under control for the most part, but just in case I entered the address of their parking lot into my map app.

My well-orchestrated plan when off without a hitch except until we got lost looking for the theater. By the way, using your map app does not work when walking.  All it did was confuse me more. After wandering around for 10 minutes I asked a couple for directions.  We still arrived there with plenty of time to spare.

The show was amazing!  Adam’s voice was just as good in concert as on his recordings.  The lights, music and sound were great!  We loved every minute of it.

I’m not a demonstrative person by any stretch of the imagination, but I did stand, clap and sway a bit during the concert. I even yelled a few “wa hoos”.   My outside appearance didn’t give away the excitement and utter joy I was experiencing.

I had expected old ladies and young teenagers to be the only ones there.  I was surprised by the mix of couples, children, teenagers, young women and there were some gay men.

A very enthusiastic, dressed to the nines 65+ sat next to me.  She danced through each song like it was his last (or hers).  At one point she nudged me with her shoulder and asked, “Are you a Glambert?”

“Uhhh, I don’t think so,” I said. I do know what the term is, but I’ve never been comfortable being one.  Most of my family just loves to rub it in though.

It was about 11pm when the concert ended.  Leaving the theater we followed the throng of concert goers headed toward the parking garage.

When we got there nothing looked familiar.  The colors were all wrong and the building didn’t have the numbers “410” on the outside of the building. After feeling like I was losing my mind for a moment I figured it out I must have driven into wrong garage thinking it was the theater’s garage!  The problem? I didn’t know where my car was because the only address I had was the theater’s garage.

We started walking confidently looking for our garage. We were in such a good mood from the show that we were even joking about what a good story this would make.  I mean how many garages could there be in this area? We were being naive about the severity of our situation.

While setting out on our quest, were realized that we couldn’t retrace our steps because as I wrote in the beginning, we got lost on the way to the theater!

We walked around and around downtown in the dark of midnight looking for the #$%*! garage with the “410” on it’s wall.  As if you couldn’t tell, I am terrible at navigation.  Not just regular “I’m not good with directions” kind of terrible,  I have been known to turn down the wrong street driving home.

Slowly our dire situation began to unveil itself!  I am a woman, you know that, and I had my very beautiful 13 year old daughter with me.  I felt a little vulnerable. Some of the blocks we went down were dark and having to cross to the other side to avoid homeless men sleeping on the sidewalks was really making me afraid for our safety.

Allison kept telling me she recognized some things from our walk to the theater.  Instead of letting her guide me I kept saying things like “let’s just take a look around this corner” and “no, I’m sure that’s not right”.

After 45 minutes or so of this I was beginning to worry.  My only hope was to find policeman.  They would know what to do.  Instead I found an angel disguised as a bicycle rickshaw operator.  As a side note, he looked like Robert Plant.

With great reluctance I explained our dilemma. Strangely, his face lit up and he said he loved a good challenge!  He offered to drive us around the area looking for the garage.  As Allison and I climbed into the seats I glanced across the street.  There it was on the wall ….the numbers “410”. I honestly could’ve kissed our angel /Robert Plant impersonator!  I gave him a tip and he waited until we drove out of the garage before he rode off.  What a great person. He really made an impression on me.

There is a silver lining to this story.  Allison and I never once gave up, panicked, cried or argued.  We just kept on going.  I also must give credit to Allison.  Almost from the start she recognized businesses and landmarks.  I think if I hadn’t found the rickshaw driver first we would’ve ran into it ourselves because of Allison.  That was a good lesson for me, I need to trust her more now.

It was 12pm when we finally got to the car.  I hugged Allison and drove home.

When I retold this story to family and friends, my family wasn’t particularly surprised. In fact I think it was Tristan who said,” So just another day for you?”

I Miss Nonsense

Gosh, I just realized how much my blog has taken a turn for the dark and depressing.

Remember the nonsense posts of Breaking Records, Dancing Queen, The Creamer and Wine Diet and Pretty Boy Crushes to name a few?

They were the posts of the good old days when I was only battling my bi-polar condition and medication. I wasn’t level enough to have handled my mom’s dying at that time. I certainly couldn’t have faced up to my abusive marriage and actually planning to leave instead of just fantasizing about it.

There must have been such a pile up of things that could only happened while I am well enough to deal with them.  It must be God’s way of giving me only what I can handle.

Not to worry, I’ll get my old posts back as soon as my life stops “playing catch up”.

So Long 2003 Subaru Outback

subaru-outback-l.l.bean-08I just got a new car. The old one got me through so many weather jams I am grateful for the 11 years it gave me.  That old green 2003 Outback will be missed. No car payments will be missed.

You know what will not be missed?

Headlights going out when the emergency brake light goes on while driving down the interstate.

Not having any dash lights and having to see the speedometer while going under a street light or following (a safe distance) behind someone else.

Front end grinding and knocking.

Juice stained carpets.

Juice stained ceilings.

Juice stained seats.

Knocked out front fog light from when Emily scraped a parked car.

Hole in back bumper when I drove over a generator.

A “My Child is an Honor Student” in middle school bumper sticker (oh, yes I was one of those parents). Since Tristan was 14, I’ve been trying to get it off.  Goo Be Gone and then finally a chisel. Tristan is now 18 and still no dice.

The poor old green thing has been replaced by a dark grey 2015 Outback. Unfortunately, the new car smell has been replaced by Chick-Fil-A, Starbucks and poodle.

Sin City – Day 3 (Last Entry)

Sin City – Day 3

After lunch on the third day in Vegas, we went down to Fremont Street where I convinced John to try the oxygen “rip off” bar. Then he stood on the huge scale in front of a hamburger restaurant. He weighed in at 216. He looked so dejected that I ran up and took the packages from his hands and he ended up at 206.

On the second day of the dirt track races, I decided not to go and nobody was surprised.  I had the whole night planned.  First I would get a drink and play the slot machines by myself.  Big move for me doing anything by myself, but for some reason I felt confident. Then I would go back up to the room, take a bath, have some wine and do some writing.  I was really looking forward to some alone downtime.

Around six o’clock, everyone left for the races and I began my plan. Before he left, John had bought a margarita for me.  He warned it was strong because he had seen the bartender put two shots of tequila in it.  I drink too fast and eat too fast. So after guzzling the one John got for me, I had another free one the waitress gave me.  Big mistake…. I ended up drunk!  I did make it back up to the hotel room by myself. It was a bit creepy walking down the long lonely “Stanley Hotel” hallway. I made it without being kidnapped or murdered.

When I got into the room I lay down on the bed and passed out!  It was 7pm.