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Other things my microwave can do

Microwave dings

I can paste a photo of someone I am angry at on an egg and blow it up in my microwave.

I can take a photo of someone I am mad at by converting my microwave into a pinhole camera.  After doing so, I may not be able to use the microwave/camera to blow up the photo on the egg. A cardboard box would do a better job as a camera.

I can spy on my roommates by cutting a hole in the kitchen counter and in the bottom of the microwave. Then I can hide in the cabinet underneath and have my head sitting in the microwave. This will really freak them out. They usually open the microwave before turning it on, so I think my brain is safe.

I can scare away men over 50 by continually opening the microwave while it is on, especially when they are near it. They may know that microwaves don’t render them infertile but do they really believe everything they read?

I can bake brownies in my microwave. They are guaranteed to be the worst brownies ever but they will bake quickly. Because I live in Alaska, I can bake special brownies really quickly in my microwave although this is totally against Federal regulations.  Federal regulations and benefits are going the way of Star Trek Conventions so I may need a bigger microwave.

I can put a yellow Peep in the microwave and get it to puff up like the president’s hair.

I can go to Goodwill or Salvation Army and get a big old school webcam and glue it to the top of my microwave. Then I will add some disco lighting synched with Bluetooth speakers and Put the whole thing in my bicycle basket or on the top of my car and ride around town playing songs which will make America great again.

I can use my microwave as a blunt weapon to attack intruders and other undesirables.

I can heat up paranoia and racial hatred by putting them in the microwave for two and a half minutes.

I can make a Jello mold of the president then put it in the microwave and watch it dissolve.

 

 

 

 

 

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Anxiety Woman’s reading list: a prescription for wellbeing

Posted on

I remember being in the middle of a conversation with a fellow actor in San Francisco. After yammering on as we actors do, he stopped, looked me in the eye and said, “I can’t afford to be around negative people anymore.” Then he walked away. I laugh large laughs in my head today because his conversations about making it big and investing in his latest project remind me of a certain current president of a formerly much admired nation. If you can’t deal with negativity then perhaps you might need an ego reboot.

Sure, I’m a bit negative when it comes to assuaging men’s egos. I also have a tendency to underrate my own cooking but this is a self protective move. If I tell people the brownies are a bit undercooked and have too much salmon extract in them, that means there are more for me.

I’ve been noticing my stress level is creeping up lately. I can’t sleep until 3 am. My dominant forearm is aching while I type this. I’m getting charlie horses at night and now I have “Trigger thumb” where my thumb becomes dislocated as I sleep due to high tension and over use during the day. How do you overuse a thumb? By yanking up one’s pants too many times, securing wheelchairs, pushing wheelchairs, giving a thumbs down to bad movies, riding a bike in winter  desperately trying to get the brakes to work and by cross country skiing.

I am taking a break from the skiing and the biking and decided to catch up on my reading.  My reading choices reflect an inability to move forward with my life. It would take a disaster of great proportions to uproot me from my safety net of friends and activities so that’s what I read about. Besides there is nothing like a disaster book to make you feel like anxiety is a good thing.

I read this one last year when there was very little snow in Alaska. The weather was getting me down but reading this put an end to my complaints.

I just finished reading this. If a recurring reference to a pail of human eyeballs doesn’t put you off then you might enjoy the rest which is equally gory but historically accurate.  There are no big plot surprises as you can see the trajectory right on the cover. And to think I am wary about moving back to the Northeast because of ticks.

Here’s one I got at the library book sale on Friday night, haven’t started it but it was on the shelf marked. “Disasters” so how could I go wrong?

I know I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover but I have a difficult time resisting non-fiction with the word, “terrifying” in the sub-title. I hope someday there will be a Trump era history with that word in the title. I find myself feeling much more at home in a Trump presidency than many of my friends who don’t court disaster as doggedly as I do. I, who am oft  the outlier in terms of neuroticism, now appear closer to the mean or average. This is a lucky break for me.

A man named Lance Panzer, no relation to the tank, reviewed it on Amazon.com with the headline, “Makes the Perfect Storm look like a picnic”

Just in case I needed a different sort of input, I made my way over to Title Wave to  cash out my credit before the March 15th deadline. Look what I found!

Product Details

They have two more copies if you want one!

This is how I put my life in perspective. I may have no direction. The leader of my  country may be inherently unstable but at least I am not on a plane with snakes.  If you have any film or reading recommendations, please leave them in the comments.

 

 

The envelope I received today from Price Waterhouse

I’m a winner!

So is Hilary Clinton. My brother called to tell me that one.

My envelope was addressed to my neighbors but it was in my mailbox along with the box containing their Signature Hardware copper claw foot bathtub. Finders/Keepers. I have a really big mailbox. You could fit 140 of Donald Trump’s hands in it.

317436-72-hammered-copper-slipper-clawfoot-tub

This is what you want to hide under when there is an earthquake, if it doesn’t run away on those fat little legs. Body shaming aside, they are a bit tubby.

Why did Price Waterhouse pick me? Probably because I am from Manchester by the Sea. I am one of the former residents who, like Casey Affleck’s character, moved away to make less money than they could at home. Manchester is a really pretty place but you have to be really rich to live there. Little did I know that you have to be pretty rich to live well anywhere.   Maybe the letter was meant for Casey but I think he already got one.

I hear P.W. has two copies of every envelope they give out, which is a bit excessive. I don’t write two checks when I pay my rent or have sex with individuals twice just in case they didn’t hear me the first time.

But what to do about the bathtub? I’ve already made a couple of speeches about it to my easily impressed co-workers. My neighbors might get suspicious if there’s a plumber’s van in the driveway tomorrow so I will probably have to sleep with a working man for a believable backstory.

Truthfully, I think the postman made the mistake because I am white and my neighbors are not. I don’t make as much money as them but I look like I do based on skin tone.

No that can’t be it.  I’m Catholic, like Casey Affleck’s character. I’m the one who is oppressed and just can’t beat my past including my genetic tendencies towards violence and ridiculous sensitivity to both the sun and the criticism of others. Don’t tell me I live in La-La land because I live in Alaska where no one has a tub like this and everyone is really just a loser from somewhere else. Don’t make me give it back.

 I have my doubts about the integrity of Price Waterhouse.  My first association with that kind of fancy-ass name is Fisher Price toys but their tubs are much smaller and apparently come equipped with photogenic bathers.

tubs

Move over Sunny Pawar! I’m younger than you and I’m white!

 You may ask, what do all these references have in common? Do they all involve water? Yes but NO!  THEY ARE ALL FAKE NEWS!

I only got a catalog from Signature Hardware which is the Rock/Movie/Musical star of bathtub makers. It was not addressed to me. It was not addressed to my neighbors either. It was addressed to my roommate who is black and has a much better bedroom set than I have.

We do have a big mailbox.  We just got an upgrade. With three of us living here and about 10 old roommates who still get their mail here we needed it. Besides that, it has a lock so no one can steal our Academy Award letters.

I did audition for a movie the other day but I was funnier off script than on so I don’t think that is going anywhere fast. A girl can dream about playing an old alcoholic smoker who sees dead guys coming on to her but that doesn’t make her dreams come true.

I am from Manchester by the Sea. I recognize that the movie is not so much about that town but about the small town that many of us come from. The one that never forgets the best of people and the worst of them. The small town that is our family, our workplace, our culture that we can’t get far enough away from, because they’re inside of us. I’m proud to be from a town that will now be forever remembered for alcoholism and dysfunction.

I will probably not see the movie La-La land because I don’t need more fantasy in my life especially  anymore white people’s fantasy. This includes thinking I deserve more than I get and that life is fair. I should see Moonlight. Maybe I will go with my roommates.  Meanwhile I just had my taxes done at H&R Block. They only use one envelope.

If I could see as you do……

Ivan Bilibin was a Russian illustrator, especially of folk tales, whose work is beautiful. Russian folk tales can be pretty odd. This must have been one of them. When you work out what’s going on, write me a story, please.

via Sunday Strange microfiction challenge — Jane Dougherty Writes

https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/2017/02/26/sunday-strange-microfiction-challenge-3/

If I could see with the eyes of the dead, I would not waste my youth in fear or lust. I would not cry in the dark but treasure the sharp edge of loneliness.  I would cast off the faith which castigated me for living. I would see what matters instead of relying on magic wishes and futile comparisons. But there were donuts, doe-eyed men and other distractions.

The house of my childhood is now fenced with bones. I cannot enter without their owner’s permission. When they give it, I choose the eyes of the most misunderstood and venture into the woods. They see without pain now and offer me not the rewards of love, peace or prosperity but that of humor.

The picture is from a Russian folktale in which a girl, whose mother has died, escapes the home of Baba Yaga thanks to a blessing from her dead mother, something with which I can identify.

 

 

 

 

 

 

La cite disait au revoir au Gambetta

, alle

Sorry to be late posting. I got carried away with gardening. It’s that time of year when if you miss a couple of weekends the jungle has returned and it’s too late to prune it back. This painting is by Pierre Puvis de Chavannes and I haven’t got a clue what’s going on in it. […]

via Sunday Strange microfiction challenge — Jane Dougherty Writes

My reply:

I am Paris. I starve. Gambetta save my children. We have eaten the horses and the dogs. Death to Bismarck.  You will live forever with a place in my bosom, Place Gambetta.

 

The painting refers most probably to Gambetta leaving Paris in a balloon filled with coal gas from the Paris coal plant. Paris was under siege by the Prussians. He was going to rally the army outside of Paris. The painter frequently worked with allusions, allegory  and metaphor. Found this out on Wikipedia and some French wiki sites regarding the war.

My sister lives just uphill from Place Gambetta in Paris.

In my culture – Tips for eating in the USA

In my culture, we reward the ingestion of nutrients with a non-nutritious dish

In my culture, only the ancient ones are allowed to consume non-nutritious dishes before the nutritious ones. If a nurse attempts to move the non-nutrition out of your reach it is within your rights to kick them.

dessert-far-left

In my culture, there is one meal which is so delicious that many restaurants serve it all day. This meal often includes a salty/sweet/greasy crunchy strip of meat as well as a batter which has been pressed into patterns that can hold a heavenly tree sauce.

In my culture, chocolate can be served in a solid, liquid, puddingish or cake like form. It is also available in an e-cigarette.

In my culture, a pizza can now contain Nutella.

In my culture, what goes in the spring roll, stays in the spring roll.

springroll

In my culture, you can kill someone with raw cookie dough

In my culture, almost everything is better with mix-ins.

In my culture, it is acceptable to sell Nyquil in several different flavors.

In my culture, Oreos lead the way in diversity

In my culture, eating more than your share of donuts may result in being shunned.

In my culture, it is possible to purchase a gourmet garbage meat tube in a roll or on a stick.

In my culture, “artisanal” usually means “rip-off.” It may also mean “Made by hipsters.”

artisan-food-trail-cambridge.png

 

 

 

 

Her teeth

https://sachablack.co.uk/2017/02/15/writespiration-103-52-weeks-in-52-days-week-7/

52 word writing challenge – theme:  The distance between

 

I seek  the wildness of glacial boulders and the crooked country lane. I can’t abide by the measured distance between American teeth. Anything less than an assembly line set is returned to the factory for adjustment. On her deathbed, my mother begged for me, “Her teeth.”  I  lost them forever.