Monthly Archives: June 2012

I feel like you’re saying “boy’s hole,” and it’s clearly “soul”…

Well I didn’t think it was possible, but I finally discovered a group of people I dislike more than Nickelback fans: Hardcore yard salers.

If you frequent yard sales and you are offended right now, don’t get your (used?) panties in a twist just yet. I don’t hate all yard sale enthusiasts. Just the ones who:

• Show up to a sale over an hour before its advertised starting time and complain that it’s not set up
• Pay for a $4 purchase with a $100 bill
• Step on (and break) an item on their way to the cash box to haggle over the price of a 50-cent Lord of the Rings DVD

All of these things happened to me on Saturday.

It all started when my boyfriend’s family decided to have a yard sale, and they offered to let us come and offload some of our crap. They put an ad in the paper that very clearly said the sale started at 9 a.m. We showed up around 8 a.m. Saturday and I was busy arranging some clothes on one of the tables on the front lawn when I felt someone push me to the side. I look over, expecting to see one of the kids goofing around, and instead see an older woman trying to claw her way into a box on the ground that has yet to be unpacked.

“Uh, believe it or not, that taped-up box is not ready yet,” I tell her. “The sale doesn’t start for another hour, like it says on that newspaper ad you’re using to polish off the vintage Star Wars figurine you just took out of the original packaging, AWESOME.”

I almost pulled a Charlie Day and threatened to smack her face right off her face when I heard her reply, which was, “If you have a sale you have to put up with the early birds!”

I was about to be like, keep clawing bitch, you’re not gonna have a face by the time I’m done with you, but I got distracted by ANOTHER lady who had arrived over an hour early, and was busying herself dumping out the contents of a large, canvas Costco bag that was holding items yet to be unpacked for the sale. When she was done, she announced to all the other early birds (there was a whole flock at this point), “Look at this great bag I found to hold all my purchases!”

I had to hold myself back from getting into her Camry and being all, “Look at this great car I found to MOW DOWN THE EARLY BIRD WHO IS STEALING OUR SHIT.”

Later in the morning (you know, once the sale had actually started) we had the pleasure of meeting a 350-pound man in a child-size Metallica T-shirt who asked my boyfriend if they could go inside and smoke some pot, told us Janis Joplin was his aunt and engaged in a demonstration of a Shake Weight that left me feeling the need to pour bleach on my eyeballs, and also my soul.

Things were finally settling down when this couple from an apartment complex across the street wandered over and started looking around. The guy found a $2 fishing pole he liked and asked if we could hold it for him while he “got the money together” for it. He was back in about an hour – apparently it takes some time to move that much money from your offshore accounts. When they came back, we noticed that his girlfriend was carrying a crappy vase in her hands. She informed us that she REALLY wanted the Garth Brooks poster that was for sale, but didn’t have $3, so she wondered if we’d take the vase instead. As yard sale credit.

As in, will you please accept this even shittier shit in exchange for the shit you’re trying to get rid of?

I think she could sense my train of shit-thought, because in an effort to convince me I was getting the bargain of a lifetime, she was like, “I just looked this up online and this vase is worth $42.”

Lady, I’m no detective, but what I have deduced here is that you have a computer and Internet access, but not $3.

Anyway, were it my poster I would have just given it to her because, honestly? Anyone who would actually ask for a line of credit at a yard sale just to own a Garth Brooks poster could probably benefit from a random act of kindness. Alas, the owner of the poster did not want to trade for a Dollar Tree lead paint-coated vase. Who knows, maybe someday Garth will go back to that whole Chris Gaines thing and vase lady will thank God for her unanswered prayer to own that $3 yard sale poster after all.

Bagels and doughnuts … round food for every mood!

This weekend has been incredible.
It started on Friday when I handed my boss my letter of resignation, something my friends and family have been urging me to do for years. I guess they got tired of hearing me say, “I’d love to, but I have to work” every time they invited me somewhere.
My last day is June 15, and after that I’m taking two weeks off to do absolutely nothing. I mean, I’ll probably get up every so often to open a new can of Easy Cheese or to change out the Harry Potter DVDs, but that’s the extent of “work” I plan to do. And after those two weeks, I’m starting a new career path in marketing, something I’m seriously excited about. That excitement far outweighs any lingering feelings of dread I may have about having to work these last two weeks, and this is the first weekend I’ve truly felt relaxed, or even remotely creative, in such a long time. I decided to celebrate by making something pretty.
I pinned this like three months ago and this weekend I finally got around to actually trying it:
I’ll note that I try not to pin things I know I won’t make. If the words “chiffonade” or “julienne” or “cut in a straight line” are involved when I click the link, I close that shit right down. But this one looked super easy – all it involves is a glue gun, a bottle and some spray paint.
What has two thumbs and can screw up a project that only involves a glue gun, a bottle and some spray paint? THIS GIRL.
I started out by taking a couple of wine bottles and soaking them in warm, soapy water to get the labels to come off. This actually worked really well, giving me a false sense of confidence that I’d be able to complete this task without wanting to kill myself.
Next, I dried the bottles off and got out the glue gun.
You guys, the glue gun beat me. I was at least wise enough to know that I’d never get my handwriting to look as good as it does in the original pin, so I figured I’d do a pattern of vertical dots running up the sides of the bottle. The first two columns went OK until this happened:

I wish I could blame this on a hand tremor or major earthquake, but I just suck.

I was running out of glue so I put a new stick into the gun. It wasn’t getting hot immediately, so I looked at the T.V. for a second and got sucked into the Dawson’s Creek pilot. Dawson had just told Joey he slaps the clown to Katie Couric every morning when I looked down and saw that a huge blob of glue was streaming out of the gun* and forming on my bottle. Of course I tried to stop it from running with my fingers, and of course it hurt like hell because hi, it’s HOT GLUE, not pleasantly warm, finger-friendly adhesive.

Tip number one: Use puff paint if you want to make a design without burning your fingers off.

After the hot glue incident I still had two bottles left, so I decided to scrap the whole glue idea and just use the chalkboard paint. This leads me to tip number two: Wear gloves when you spraypaint:

Fun fact: I designed the newspaper behind this freshly ruined manicure.

That picture was taken after about 10 minutes of furious scrubbing. When I first came inside my entire left hand was covered in paint, so I tried to scrub it off, only it wasn’t working. At all. Just as I started to panic about what if it hardened and my hand was stuck forever as a chalkboard claw, I tried rubbing it with the back side of (my boyfriend’s brand new) sponge, and it (mostly) came off.
Feeling tired from that ordeal, I sat down at the kitchen table to kick my feet up for a few minutes while the paint dried, which leads me to tip three: Don’t wear a skirt while you spraypaint:

Bonus life tip: Use fake tan every day if there is even a remote possibility a picture of your legs will ever be posted on the Internet.

At this point I decided the wise thing to do was have a beer and not care about what the final product looked like. Which, if you’re wondering, is this:
The spray paint bottle said to wait 24 hours before using chalk on it. Hopefully by then I won’t be able to use chalk on my kneecaps or fingernails anymore.
* The irony was not lost on me