March 15, 2008 | My name is Grumplestiltskin, It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

So last night we grabbed a couple of friends and headed out to a little dive for beer and wings, because that seemed like a fitting way to celebrate our last child-free night. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot get the kids interested in hot wings. (Or beer. Damn kids.)

So anyway, first someone brought us some water and then DIED, or at least that’s what we assume happened, because after a good half hour of sitting there with just water, Otto had to go track down someone to wait on us. The gentleman he brought back was extremely sweaty and I could not stop staring at his hairline, where his hair was plastered down with wet and beads of sweat clung to his forehead. “What do you suppose he’s doing that’s MAKING him that sweaty??” I asked, after he left; but even as I said it, I realized that was one of those questions I really didn’t want answered. (more…)

March 7, 2008 | My name is Grumplestiltskin, Haven't been hit by lightning yet!

We’ve been having huge problems with our broadband service, lately, possibly because all cable companies are run by soul-sucking incompetents, or possibly because my personal electro-magnetic field has thus far managed to disrupt my internet service, on occasion, everywhere I have ever lived. It matters not, I suppose.

And so there have been countless calls to Charter to report the agonizing slowness of our connection speed, and all of the fabulously unrelated questions we get asked when we make those calls. Because, you know, whether or not I have a lot of MUSIC ON MY COMPUTER, that would affect my connection speed, apparently. Also, I have taken to lying and saying that we’ve unhooked our router and have one computer directly hooked into the cable modem, just so that we can skip the part where we spend twenty minutes with them trying to convince me the router is broken. (Hint: It isn’t.) (more…)

March 5, 2008 | My name is Grumplestiltskin

No, really. I may have made it up just now (what, I’m not allowed to do that?), but EMBRACE IT. Today’s the day to bitch and moan about things irritating you, and you get to feel just a little more superior about it because saying that something is STUCK IN YOUR CRAW is very satisfying, and somehow more justified-sounding than THESE PEOPLE ARE PISSING ME OFF.

It’s good for the soul. I swear.

Also, studies show it’s good to shrug off petty annoyances and even major worries, because you’ll stay healthier when you’re not aggravated. But other studies (mine; very scientific they are, too, with data collected over wine and chocolate while not-knitting) show that if you cannot shake these things off, it’s highly therapeutic to VENT LOUDLY. (more…)

January 23, 2008 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony, My name is Grumplestiltskin

Once upon a time, your life was perfect. Ideal! You lived in a nice house with an intact nuclear family. Everything was flowers and rainbows and sunshine, and no one ever yelled, and the food was always exactly what you wanted, and you never did anything wrong because everything was exactly the way you liked it.

(Well, you were both under 5, back then. I’m SURE it’s not that your memory is hazy or wholly manufactured; it was really JUST LIKE THAT. Obviously.)

Then, of course, everything went wrong. Your parents got divorced and life went to hell, because now nothing was perfect anymore and your horrible mother was constantly placing these ridiculous EXPECTATIONS on you, like that you would LISTEN TO HER and FOLLOW THE HOUSE RULES and EAT WHAT SHE COOKED.

Oh, the HUMANITY! (more…)

December 28, 2007 | My name is Grumplestiltskin, Health is overrated

… until somebody ruptures an eardrum!

(What, your family doesn’t have that rule?)

Oh, I kid. No one has a ruptured eardrum. I just WISH I had a ruptured eardrum.

So, um, remember that cold I had? My cold that was getting better? My cold that suddenly sensed I was over a thousand miles from home and decided to morph into FORM OF: EAR WEASEL and commence throbbing and itching and generally making me wish for death? Yeah, that cold. I hate that cold.

Why yes, I DO believe that cold knows I’m away from home and also, you know, not generally a fan of the sensation of a creature trying to nibble its way to my brain via the ear canal. Because colds are bitches like that. (more…)

November 28, 2007 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony, My name is Grumplestiltskin

Oh, the joy of a long weekend! The sleeping in! The holiday food! The family togetherness!

The quiet implosion when you attempt to return to your previous schedule!

[And hey, speaking of schedules, I realized yesterday that it had been over a week since my MRI adventure and I hadn’t heard a thing, so I called my doctor to inquire. They informed me that they haven’t received the report, yet, but will call when they do. Fine. I was almost content to assume “no news is good news” from that, buuuuuut then in the mail I got an official-looking letter letting me know that my mammogram yielded abnormal results and would require further investigation and please call right away. Not the MRI, mind you. But the mammogram. You know, the mammogram I had TWO MONTHS AGO? I told Otto to put this on my tombstone: “We just got a letter back about her MRI.”] (more…)

October 19, 2007 | My name is Grumplestiltskin, Ottomatic For the People

Recent events have turned me into a not altogether pleasant person. I am worried sick about Monkey; there is a story forthcoming about The House That Will Not Sell that sort of makes me want to punch myself in the face because, honestly, there should be a limit to the number of times a person can whine about such things, but mostly I want to punch my realtor in the face (hint: he is “just as frustrated” as I am about the current situation, he likes to assure me); work is a little stressful right now (ha! ha! just a little!); and next week I have to go have an MRI because I DON’T HAVE ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT. So.

This results in things like sitting on the couch with Otto in the evenings, being not nearly so interested in the Red Sox as I ought to be because I’m busy working on my laptop, and whining a lot. (more…)

October 18, 2007 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony, My name is Grumplestiltskin

I am trying.

I am trying to see and appreciate the good in the folks who are TRYING to help my child despite various limitations, be they the constraints of school policy, understaffing, or their own preconceived notions.

Or their own faulty memories.

So let’s get this right out of the way up front: I love Monkey’s teacher. I do. She’s a veteran and she has gone out of her way to to do certain things for him even when the school administration has dragged their feet, and despite the occasional interesting spelling (this week’s feature: candycorn! all one word!) I think she’s pretty good at her job. More importantly, I can tell that she genuinely cares for Monkey. I can forgive a lot in the face of genuine affection.

But I am reaching my limit. (more…)

September 11, 2007 | My name is Grumplestiltskin

I love how you all enjoy my discussion of all the wonderful new wildlife here in the south. And by “enjoy” I mean “squeal like little girls.” I feel you, I do. I don’t like it either. And yesterday as I was reading the comments about our velvet ant sighting, I said to myself, “Self, that is surely the strangest bug you are going to see here in Georgia.”

Ha!

Well, pride goeth before a fall. And denial goeth before more weird bugs. Shortly thereafter, I had the dubious pleasure of sighting something actually much weirder (and LARGER), though it was thankfully in someone else’s house, so I plan to believe no such creature could ever come in here. (Also, it’s a basement-dweller and we have no basement! Ergo, I’m in the clear! Lalalalalala… what? I can’t hear you!) (more…)

August 16, 2007 | My name is Grumplestiltskin

No, you didn’t miss anything. This is a two-part story (see? tale of TWO cars?), but I’m not ready to tell you part 1, just yet. Part 1 cannot be told without flames shooting out of my eyeballs and veins bulging in my neck. Part 1 is the story of why—nearly eight weeks after moving—I still do not have a car of my own. Part 1 should come first, I’ll grant you that, but, um, too bad.

This is part 2. This is about Otto’s car.

So I moved down here, carless, and Otto and I were drunk on love and possibly cheap beer, and we said that me not having a car would be NO PROBLEM for a little while, because Otto has a car! And Otto would not be going back to work until August (oh, hey, look—it’s August) and also, Otto had an extra car so we’d be perfectly fine. Hahahahahaha. (more…)