So Many To Choose From

So many of them are just not right!

I'm talking eyeglasses here, people, and it's one of the main reasons I have had the same frames for three years.

First I love my old frames. Second, how will I ever find another pair that even comes close to how much I love them? Third, did I mention I love them?

But they have lost some sparkles, paint is flaking, and I had a terrible collision with a hard headed nephew, so they are slightly skewed.

It's time. I girded my loins, brought the kids for extra advice, and braved a frame store.

It's almost overwhelming how many there are! And I tried on LOTS. Most I said no to. One I said was okay. My daughter kept telling me that pair was good, or this pair was nice, and I do trust her judgement (she's never steered me wrong in fashion advice) but I just didn't love any of those. I finally said to the sales clerk, I was also looking for sunglasses. I tried on one pair and that was all I needed. I loved them instantly.

I was about to give up when I tried on one more pair of regular frames. Eh, not bad. The kids gave it a thumbs up, the sales clerk wiped the sweat from her brow and I said okay. These are the frames for me.

As soon as we leave, I have buyers remorse. It's terrible! I'm so worried that they are the exact wrong pair for me. What if everyone said they were good just so I would stop trying on frames? We were all so very tired....

Fast forward two weeks and I get the call. The frames are in. I go down, just sick with dread, and pick them up. I put them on, look in the mirror and oh, wait, they are pretty cute. The more I look at myself, the more I like them. They are just right for me!

Whew! I'm glad that ordeal is over with for hopefully, another three years!

I Love Value Village

I do. I love that store.

I resisted.

The Value Village of my childhood was a dirty, smelly, shop of horrors. But my daughter, who has a serious problem with all things used, loves Value Village. She even found her Easter dress there.

So I grudgingly went with her.....and walked away with skirts I love at a price that can't be beat!

This discovery isn't going to help my skirt obsession!

But I don't just shop for skirts. I swear! I got several towels today (stop shrieking daughter, they aren't for personal use) for The Pooper's crate. Olive, as much as I dearly love her, has ruined many of my old, clean up toilet water towels.

I have now started to replace them when they are 1/2 off at Value Village.

And I did happen to make time in my shopping for towels to try on a skirt or seven and love four, but only bought two.

See? I'm keeping it real.

Real thrifty too! I love me some Value Village.

The Last TP Roll Is The Fastest To Go

Why is the last roll of toilet paper in the house, the roll that disappears the fastest?

And yet, when you have a new package, you have days until it's needed?

I personally feel a sense of doom when I realize the last roll is hanging up and I have not remembered in any of my 4 recent trips to a store to buy another package.

The last roll goes from full to dangerously slim in what feels like minutes.

Now that the emergency four pack of cheap grocery store brand, minus one roll, and a new pack of my favorite double roll Quilted Northern is sitting in the bathroom, ready for use, it's not needed. It's been days, and we haven't needed to replace the roll.

Time seems different depending on desperation.

But to our future guests, please don't freak out. I really do keep a good supply of TP on hand. Usually. And always when we are expecting company. You won't ever have to do what Ben Stiller did in Along Came Polly.

Besides, I don't have antique towels or a loofah for you to use.

Amendment To The One Bathroom Post

Today I do not love my one bathroom! Sharing one bathroom with three other people, all trying to get ready at the same time and leave the house on schedule is not easy.

In fact, it's impossible for us.

On the positive side, after discussing it with my husband, he agrees I need to spend some money to make our bedroom more get ready friendly.

It might even involve rearranging furniture.

He shuddered at that, but spending money is okay!

I haven't mentioned my idea of him crawling under the house to add an outlet to our room.

He'd rather help move furniture I'm sure!

A House With One Bathroom

I recently started thinking about how I longed for a two bathroom house.

When we were in our first house, I would say we need to buy the next house with three bedrooms and two baths.....and then we walked through this old 1905 monster, with two upstairs bedrooms, an unfinished attic/future bedroom space, and a downstairs room that we use as a bedroom, and one old, weird, creepy bathroom......and we fell in love.

The bathroom, and kitchen actually, are very obviously tacked on additions to this old house. It started me thinking about how one bathroom was considered a luxury not too long ago. My Mom has stories of using a chamber pot at night on sleepovers to her grandmothers house. That wasn't that long ago!

I wanted two bathrooms because I could foresee a future of me doing a potty dance outside the bathroom door while one of our two teenagers took forever to get ready.....and that has happened.

One bathroom isn't always easy, isn't always a joy, isn't always something I love. But guess what? I've learned we don't need two bathrooms. We are thankful to have one!

Plus, I can barely keep up on the cleaning this one requires. I think I'd cry if I had two to clean!

If I Was A Man....

I'd stop carrying a purse. I know, dudes always complain about wallets getting too fat, and sitting on them gives them back aches.....as I write this I can see in my mind's eye, Jerry Seinfeld running down the street in his fur coat trying to catch his purse thief.

If I was a man I wouldn't have to worry about having an umbrella or tissue or pens or paper or packs of chewing gum or various girlish things.

I'd put my wallet in one pocket, my cell in another and add a tube of chapstick because I may not be into manscaping, but I do have excessively dry lips!

My purse is perfect for carrying my dress shoes and packed lunch, along with everything else I might need. Even my water bottle, with lid screwed on extremely tight, gets tossed in every once in a while.

But in it's perfection, it turns into a nightmare. It is a black hole! Things go in and can't be found. I can not find a single thing I'm looking for. I recently sat at a gas station dumping my purse out to find my wallet. Sad and crazy.

It does hold good surprises though. Yesterday I stuck my hand in to fish around for a scrap of paper to write a note to myself and I came out with a folded piece of paper. I don't remember putting this in my purse....and I wouldn't have because I didn't! My husband slipped a love note in my purse that morning.

I'm just surprised I found it the same day!

But if I was a man without a purse, I wouldn't have any way to be surprised by love notes in said purse.

I think I'll stick with what I've got, black hole of a purse and all.

A Case Of Taste Versus Texture

I have loved those huge chewy pieces of bubble gum for as long as I can remember. As an adult, though, I tend to buy mouth freshening gum because #1 it makes my breath minty fresh and #2 my jaw doesn't always like to work overtime chewing a massive wad of bubble gum.

Sad but true. Doesn't stop me from loving it though!

Part of what I love about Seaside is this crazy candy store that sells every kind of yummy or gross candy you can think of. It has a rack devoted to gum and at the top I saw something I haven't seen in ages.

Hubba Bubba. That is the gum I remember from being a kid! Usually in a grape flavor but I decided to stay old school and go with original pink bubble gum. I also grabbed a pack of my favorite Bubblicious Sour Apple.

I could hardly wait for the drive home, so I could chew a piece of Hubba Bubba. When I asked for a piece, my daughter dutifully dug around in my black hole of a purse (that might have to be a blog of it's own!) and pulled out the sweet smelling pink package.

I popped it in my mouth and bit down. Ugh. Taste, super fantastic. Texture, not so much. I kid you not, it was like biting into flesh. Now I know, people are going to start questioning my stance against cannibalism with that statement, but I ask you to be honest. I think we've all bitten someone we had strong feelings for! Love or hate, same coin. We know what it feels like, and I'm telling you, the texture of Hubba Bubba was bad.

Bad, bad, bad!

My Bubblicious is still super delicious. Don't worry about that!

Free to a good home: one package of Hubba Bubba Max in the Outrageous Original flavor, three pieces left. (As soon as I said it was horrible, my daughter had to have her own piece to see if I was right.....all I'm saying is she didn't ask for more!)