January « 2010 « American Family

FrankenFinger

I am here to give you a very important public service message:

If your can opener has gotten dull, throw it away. Do it. Right now. Do not continue to use it. I know you are thinking you will replace it when you buy a new one, but you will use it in the meantime. If you keep it, you WON’T remember to buy a new one. Your dull one will just get more and more dull, until there is a tragedy.

Yes, kids, learn from my mistake. I have been using a dull can opener for months. After it got about half way around the can, it would temporary stop cutting. Then it would start cutting again. That would leave me with partially opened can with two metal strips on each side that were almost open. Generally, I would use something like a knife or a spoon to pry it open.

This very scenario took place in my kitchen the other night as I was trying to pry open a can of Sichuan Preserved Vegetable so I could make Dan Dan noodles, my new obsession. As I tried to pry open the can with a spoon, I thought (for the thousandth time) ” I need a new can opener.” followed by “Hmm, this is really stuck. Using this spoon to pry open this lid is probably a really bad idea.”

That is precisely when my hand slipped and I watched the jagged lid slice through the knuckle on my third finger. After one glance at the gaping hole, I decided I needed to head to urgent care to see if I needed stitches. I tossed the kids in the car and dumped them at Patti’s house to wait for Mr. A to get home from work.

Four stitches later, I am the proud owner of a lovely FrankenFinger. I was pretty much OK for the entire stitching procedure, except for when the doctor said “Oh, there is your tendon, fortunately you missed it by a hair.” I have to admit the thought of someone personally viewing my tendon made me a little woozy.

I stopped and bought a new “no sharp edges” can opener on my way home from urgent care.

Learn from my mistake. If your can opener is dull, throw it away! Don’t let this happen to you!

January in Ohio (ugh)

This week, we were supposed to go on vacation. We chose this week because the girls had only three days of school this week. And also, you know, because the weather in Ohio in January sucks monkey balls.

Two years ago, we nearly moved away after a decision made in January. I can remember the moment I agreed. We were driving to Chicago and I was staring out the window at the bare, brown, ugly midwestern landscape under perpetually gray skies. I just thought, “Fuck it. Anywhere would be at least as good as here, if not better.”

If we had moved then, it would have been big huge mistake. I don’t deny that. I mean, the loss of all the free grandparent babysitting alone would have been catastrophic to my mental health. Not to mention our low cost of living. None of these things seem nearly as important as sunshine in January. Thankfully, we came to our senses and decided to stay.

I think last year, I started agitating to sell our house in January too. By spring, I had convinced Mr. A to go along with it. Looking back, I think I just wanted SOMETHING to change. Anything at all.

It turns out that I am generally dissatisfied with almost everything about Ohio in January. The other day I caught myself daydreaming about moving to some other city far away. Of course, in this imaginary city, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. In that place, people don’t have to wear winter coats and boots and there aren’t piles of dirty, slushy snow cluttering up the landscape.

Mr. A and I know that I develop cabin fever and an intense dislike of the Midwest in January. That is why we were supposed to go on vacation: to protect both of our mental health. The vacation was aborted because we are supposed to close on our house next Monday. I am supposed to be using this time to pack. Instead, I am just sitting around wanting to escape the dreary. Don’t get me wrong, selling our house is exciting. Moving to a new house will be a relief. But more than anything, I just want some freaking SUN.

House selling sucks

The house-selling process is decidedly unpleasant. For the past week, random workmen have been wandering in and out of our house, fixing things that are not really broken enough to require such expensive repairs. But we are doing it because it is what the buyers want (adorable little stressed-out first time homebuyers that they are). I will not be missing the repairing part of homeownership.

In other news, we found a sweet little rental house. It is located only about a block and a half from our current house and is pleasantly updated and clean. It is a ranch, which sounds very pleasant after five years of hauling laundry up and down two flights of stairs. We are trying out a ranch to see if we might like to buy a one story house the next time around.

I keep throwing crap out (ok, really I am donating it), but I swear, the remaining things are having an orgy and producing junk babies in the extra space the decluttering created. Question of the week: How many car loads of junk do I really have? Answer: Many, many more than I originally thought. For example, the other day I discovered we owned no less than SEVEN skillets. Why? I have no idea because I only ever use three of them. The other four and a wok made their way to the less fortunate skillet-deprived masses. (Don’t tell Mr. A about the wok. He really liked it, but honestly it was too small to be practical.) That being said, I am keeping two rice cookers, because you never know when you might have a rice cooker emergency.

I know this is all fascinating reading. It isn’t like we are the first people who have ever moved. Unfortunately, it is what is taking up all my time and energy when I am not researching high school exchange student programs.

FrankenFinger

January in Ohio (ugh)

House selling sucks

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