Can I Sue Pinterest for My Burns?

Being voluntarily unemployed for the moment has brought a lot of positive things in to my life: my stress level has plummeted, I have not had a headache in 2 weeks (they're usually pretty frequent), and I have had time to do things that I usually would not. Some of these are boring, doing laundry during the day being chief among that lot. But it has also allowed me to explore my passions: sewing and attempting to cook.

Sewing is something I love, it's my yoga, to relaxes me, centers me and makes me feel like a person. I love the sounds, the feel of fabric and the productivity associated with it. Mostly, I have made bags and wallets, but more recently I've decided to branch off into clothing. Here's a couple examples of things I've made:                                                                                              

Wallet Clutch:rolls up for easy stowing, pockets for cards, cell phone, elastic closure.

Suse Tote: Quilted Cotton Exterior with contrasting lining. 3 interior pockets, 1 exterior. Grosgrain ribbon trim and canvas webbing straps.

My Favorite Dress: Cotton tank with pleated tea length jersey skirt. So incredibly comfy, but still dressy, it really is my favorite dress.  

I plan on doing a lot more of all of those in the future. But more on that in another entry.


The biggest thing I have been taking the time to do is cooking, or rather attempting to cook. My mom will be the first to admit, she doesn't love to cook, but she adopts the "Go Big or Go Home" philosophy. She can make big holiday meals for 10 people like it was nothing and everything is amazing, but left to her own devices, now that we are all grown, she'd sooner make a waffle than cook something from scratch. Although my dad likes to cook and makes a decent meal, neither is extremely adventurous in the kitchen.

I made the decision to change that, I have been spending some of my time, planning, shopping for and cooking meals from scratch. Things that can be made simply:meatballs, macaroni and cheese and my favorite, buffalo chicken calzone.

My meatballs came out pretty good, but it was a hell of a lot of work. The true show was my macaroni on Saturday. I got the recipe from Pinterest, the source of all incredibly creative but overly difficult ideas. and tried to follow it to the letter. In addition to having not enough of any of the three cheeses that were required, apparently, the people at Pinterest think I have 9 hands and a helper monkey. Sadly, I have a not very helpful boxer mix who mainly just stood under me waiting for me to drop cheese. At the end of the day, it was amazing mac and cheese, but going forward, I am going to be a little less adventurous from now on in the kitchen. Mostly to avoid burning myself and running around my kitchen swearing for 45 minutes.

Sadly, the buffalo chicken calzone was decent, but nowhere near the quality I am used to. Someone please ask Pat's what the delivery charge would be to Maine. Extra Blue Cheese.

Jessica Simpson Logic

Among all the other changes that this move is bringing, I find that I'm doing the most detestable of all things (in my mind): playing dumb in order to have people to take pity on me. Or what I call Jessica Simpson Logic. Hear me out: I don't think she's dumb, at all. I feel like her "chicken of the sea" moments were carefully planned cons. She pretended not to know things because it got her things, attention from the second best looking guy in a mediocre boy band, a show on MTV, a string of mediocre NFL players. If it wasn't so damaging to females as a whole, she'd be considered a genius.

Back to my story though, I went to the dump this week for the first time in well, ever, and found that I had no idea what I was doing when it came to throwing trash away. You mean I don't just put it out on the sidewalk and some magical trash fairy takes it away. That's how it works right? Apparently not. Prior to leaving for the dump, I laid a tarp down in the backseat and loaded the trash in. Gingerly I might add, because it's gross.

Upon arriving at the dump (or as the sign says "Transfer Station" in yet another example of Maine trying to get fancy), I was greeted by a kindly man in his 70's, I knew he would be helpful if I didn't know what I was doing. So, in a move that I literally despise,  I simply smiled played dumb and told the old man I wasn't sure if I put the sticker on the right-hand side and that I just moved to town and I've never been to a dump before. Well, not only did he help me move the sticker on the car but he took all of the bags of trash out of my car and help me fold up the tarp that I used to lug them down. The smell was disgusting, the view even bleaker but as long as the old man is there to help, I would go back, if there was no other option, and a gun to my head.

In addition to my excursion to the dump, I ventured to Bangor alone as well this week. I had to get a mailbox, another service that perplexed me when we moved here. To figure out the Pony Express, I literally walked in to the Post Office and said "How does mail work here?" Well, apparently, you install a mailbox and they deliver it to you. My trip to Bangor was not that easy, it's about a 40 minute drive, mostly on Route 1, which is a two lane road with varying speed limits. Most of the roads are like that, it's like the skit from South Park, "Follow the road?" "Which road?" "This is Canada, we only have 1 road."

Searsport, Seriously Small Town

It came to my attention when looking up the town we are living in that the year round population (2,641) is roughly the same number of people that when to my high school. Seriously. That's a town?

That's the bustling downtown area. A veritable metropolis.

It also appears to be a former home to many great sea captains, which intrigues me as I love all things nautical. Out of the 43 miles that the town covers, a third of that is water. It's going to be an adjustment. I get the impression that my aloof Boston attitude is not going to go over well. 

In terms of location, it is pretty far up there, about 3 and a half hours from Boston, an hour east of Augusta and then just south of Bangor. It's a nice location but not really near much. There is a Hannaford supermarket in town and a couple small chain restaurants, including Wendy's and my favorite, Pizza Hut Italian Bistro. Seriously, PH, stop fronting. You serve pizza with cheese piped into the crust, no part of that says "bistro."

Just to give a small example of how far we are, Mr. T and I were searching for the closest warehouse store (BJ's, Costco, Sam's Club) nearby and found some surprising results. We started with BJ's since we already have a card there, nothing even on the radar, so we moved on to Costco. We were given a location, in Fredericton, New Brunswick... as in CANADA. I can just imagine the conversations at the border: "Ma'am, what's your business in Canada?" "I need a lot of toilet paper and chips." Needless to say, not a lot of buying in bulk in our future.

I took a walk around in town to get the lay of the land and to pick up tickets for the dump. Encountered a few interesting things.

This isn't even ironic. It's legitimately a former fuel oil building. 

This is the library. It's so pastoral and adorable. 

Story about the dump to come later. For now, I'm working on some sewing (back up and functional after the move). Will probably post pictures of that later too.

 

Irrational Fears

Moving has forced me to face a lot of irrational stupid fears that I have. From driving alone to eating alone even just generally being alone, not to mention my fear of being anywhere outdoors at night that isn't lit up like Las Vegas Blvd.

I drove from from Searsport to my former home in Boston this weekend for a bachelorette party and to continue to clean out my old apartment. Beyond the fact that there was a lot more left in the apartment than I anticipated (which Mr. T got an earful about), it was a good chance to catch up with some people and generally decompress after the stress of moving. And I truly believed that, prior to getting up Friday morning. I had a job interview that day and was going to leave straight from there. So, an hour into my drive to the interview I decided that there was no way I was taking this job. It was an hour drive from my house in good weather with no traffic and it seemed to be a little too disorganized for me.

After a quick trip home (I forgot something), it was off on the open road... for 4 freaking hours. Now, for those that know me well, I have not owned a car in 5 years. I have shared one with Mr. T and don't really drive too much. I can drive, but I don't really like to, it's tedious and I have a short attention span. But armed with an audiobook and some Sugar Free Red Bull, off I went. I encountered virtually no traffic and started to enjoy my time alone. Stopping at the Burlington Mall (I was staying with my in-laws), I ate alone for the first time in years.

See, I consider myself a relatively independent person, but I have never once thought of myself as a loner. When I was a kid, I had my younger sister tagging along with me; in high school and college, I always had at least one best friend with whom to cause a ruckus. And then came Kevin, and much to his sister's disbelief (hehe), I actually enjoy hanging out with him all the time. So leaving him and the pup alone in the house and journeying on my own to another state, it's a little scary. Eating in a busy food court without someone to talk to or something to do is daunting. But I am slowly but surely getting used to it.

The outdoors thing is a whole other matter. At no point in my life will I ever be comfortable in this level of darkness. Seriously, no streetlights, not many passing headlights and one 60 watt bulb to protect me against any manner of outdoor creatures. Not to mention the fact that every time I talk to my mom she warns me to watch out for fisher cats. It doesn't matter that I have a 60 pound dog to protect me, I fear even the tiniest of creatures.

LIttle House in Maine

Figured I would share some pictures of our cute little house. Regrettably I didn't get any true "before pictures" but these have just a couple things in them. Follow along for the virtual tour.

Front door and massive front yard. 

View off our back porch, that is a pond, not safe for swimming, but scenic. 

The field beside our house, with a guest appearance by Tessie.

Front room that will become the guest room.

Kevin's office downstairs. 

Bathroom, pretty basic. But I've managed to brighten it up. 

Nice big shower. 

Kitchen

Other side of kitchen, dining area. 

Living room with door to back deck.

Stairs! (Again, a Tess cameo.)

Upstairs hallway. Horrendous carpet, but I will cover it. 

My office/sewing room upstairs.

Part of our huge master bedroom. 

The other side of our huge master bedroom. 

So that is the general tour. I took these Sunday morning before we had finished emptying the truck, so not all of our things are inside, but you get the general idea. Slowly but surely it's coming together. 

Had to wait until yesterday for cable and Internet to come so that is why these are coming so late. Promise I will be better about posting going forward. Coming soon: walking around Searsport, trips to Bangor & Rockland, lost in a supermarket and adventures in unpacking. 

The Reckoning

If only that could always be said in Tom Hardy's voice. Moving day. Surrounded by boxes, alone with a completely panicked dog and my in-laws are on the way. It's right about now that I wish I hired movers. That's all for now, more packing to do.