LaurenandLloyd.com

where our wasted time becomes your wasted time

bathroom

25% – 33%

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Warning: I’m going to use statistics here, which is dangerous for a non-math person like me. But I have scientific backup, so I’m not crazy.

I’ve never used to use lotion on my legs regularly, but we got a giant bottle a while ago from a box of stuff from Lloyd’s uncle and I used it. Turns out it makes your legs less scaly. Who knew?

Anyway, when I was nearing the end of the first bottle, I was mad because the pump stopped working and obviously there was a lot left in there. I tried all the gimmicks to eek out the contents – shaking, wiping the sides with the pump stick, I even contemplated making a tiny spatula – then I just cut it open. I thought I was being quite ingenious, considering I got two more week’s worth of lotion out of there, but apparently people have been doing this for ages. Consumer Reports says that 25 – 33% of mustard, lotion, toothpaste, conditioner, etc. is left behind in the bottle.

Doesn't it look like it's floating in space?

Well, not around here, CR. Not around here.

A Post in 4 Parts (part 4)

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I have the closet cleaned out now, and I have a computer setup in it. Okay, two computers. Okay, at least two computers. Moving me into a closet ended up costing Lincoln Lutheran 2 new computers, a couple of decent monitors, a really pricey keyboard and mouse, and a fairly expensive KVM switch. But I made my own Ethernet cables to help keep the total cost down.

There's no place like home...

It’s not so bad as long as I keep the door open. And an unforeseen benefit to living in a closet is that there is no phone. I get a little more work done because it is harder for people to get ahold of me.

Those are design ideas for the next itteration of the school website.

Which leads me to the point of the thing. A few years ago I put one of those sign plaque thingies on the door and got a few signs to swap out. No one ever knew what was in this closet, so I had a few funny signs made that I would swap out seasonally. Over the years I’ve lost a few of them, and, more to the point, I’ve run out of ideas for new signs.

Ho Ho Ho

Seriously, three years running.

So I’m fishing for ideas. Obviously, the geekier the better, but I’m not proud. I’ll steal any idea. A former student stopped by few days ago, thought it was funny that they stuffed me in a closet and offered a few of his own:

  • The Bat Cave
  • Number 12, Grimmauld Place
  • The Holodeck

So, there you have it. Help make my closet more homey (funny signs are like geek curtains).

I hope the nurses are kind.

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I’ve always taken a kind of perverse pride in being a little strange. The highest compliment Millie Durfee paid to me in 4th grade was, “When I first met you I thought you were weird”. Ahhh…. music to my young ears.

Anyway, today came the realization that I’ve crossed some sort of line. So long to the pleasant “I actually got to play my ukulele in church and no one threw tomatoes” kind of crazy – welcome “ummmm….maybe we should start collecting the names of nursing homes”.

Exhibit 1: (There have been other instances, but this was the first one shocking enough to document)
I was cutting up one of Lloyd’s tattered undershirts into teeny, tiny 2-inch square (roughly) rags to wipe up the counter and toss in the trash with less eco-guilt than using a paper towel. (I was going to toss the shirt anyway.) No, that’s not the crazy part.

The crazy part is that I wanted a container to keep said squares in, and I looked under the bathroom sink. There was a ceramic canister I had been given years ago – perfect! As I got it out it was strangely heavy. Hmmmmm.

canister

What the what? There’s some watery substance, a bunch of corroded change, and a drinking glass inside. What?!?! Did I do this? When? How? What could I possibly have beeen thinking? Is that water? Is it vinegar in there? Am I stashing money and drinkware at night?

Next comes leaving the oven on all day and locking myself out of the house dressed only in a bathrobe and galoshes holding a flyswatter.

Recapturing lost youth.

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When I grew up, our bathroom had two fantastic features. One was a flip-out stepstool that my dad built for us, and the second was a special faucet that you could turn and it would become a drinking fountain.   (I would also stand on that stepstool and do Noxema commercials in the mirror, but that’s another story.)

A vague drawing from memory

I’ve looked for that faucet attachment every so often. I usually think about it when Brad’s here and he jams his face under the faucet to get a drink.  I knew I didn’t want that stupid orca whale that just snaps on to the faucet – that’s not cool.  I found this Kwik Sip thing, and it came in the mail today.  It has a little pull-switch to turn on the fountain, and then you push it back in to turn it off.   I think it will be alright – at least it will entertain Pfennig when I brush my teeth.  (Maybe it will save Brad’s neck, too.)

Thar she blows!!

How thoughtful

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Before Saturday’s trip to Lincoln I was in kind of a rush, so I didn’t get any hairspray put in my hair to keep it in its normally perfectly-coiffed state.  (Time out for laughter.)  My hair looked so bad I was thinking about buying some hairspray, but I happen to have several containers  around the house due to this very situation.  (I just buy a can/bottle, fix it, bring it home and add it to the pile.)  I didn’t want to do that this time, and considered going into a haircut place and asking them if I could give them a quarter to use a quick spritz.

Well, it just so happened that one of my stops for the day was the restaurant supply store (which I love).  I had to use the bathroom, and saw this:

Too pretty for guys to have placed there.

Obviously some woman works there, because only a woman knows that other women sometimes need supplies.

Holy mackeral! It’s like a store.

Sure enough, it was chock-full of stuff. Extra t.p., cleaning things, Girl Things, tape, lotion, several spray bottle of body spray, a couple of deodorants (*jibblie*), a bottle of detangler, and surprisingly – a brand-new in-the-blister-pack toothbrush.  I could have camped there!  No hairspray, though, so I used air freshener.  Kidding!  (or am I?)