Just Playin'
Random Thoughts...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008


It's official. I'm spoiled. Sunday, during a self-imposed laundry marathon (I have found the bottom of my closet floor and it is a wondrous thing), my washing machine decided to go on strike. No amount of negotiating or load-lightening would coax it back into operation.

I called Sears. Praise heaven, I'm still within the three-year service plan. When can the repairman come? Tuesday between 8am and noon. Not Monday, but also not Wednesday. I called my Mom. She agreed to help me out, and was available until about 1:30p. No worries.

Cut to Tuesday. After 1pm. After I've spent some time at the BMV getting my expired plates back in the land of the legal. After I've slowly but surely begun to recognize that June has become nothing but a nonbillable hour time suck. I get in touch with Mom. No Sears man.

I rush home. The Sears man calls; he's on his way. Cut to 2:16pm.

Me: So, what's the verdict? (nice lawyer talk)
Him: Oh, the dispenser arm is stuck.
Me: Why does it do that?
Him: Bad design.
Me: *blink, blink*
Him: I'm going to order you a new one [no doubt the installation of which will require another service call], but I'm trying to fix it so you can use it in the meantime.
Me: *blink, blink*

So there it is. Somehow, despite that neither laundry nor housekeeping occupy the majority of my time or worry, and despite that I know I am blessed and have many things for which to be thankful, I never contemplated the prospect of my life as it is without a functioning washing machine. It is, in a word, bleak.

Sunday, June 08, 2008

Show Us Your Manners

T and I had a relatively successful shopping trip today. (I don't like to shop, but sometimes it becomes necessary). T needed several things for her upcoming looooong trip to camp, and I needed a dress for a black-tie shindig on Friday. Miraculously, in the space of a few hours, I got a dress and shoes and T got most of what she says she needs for camp.

We left the mall and walked in the 90 degree heat and humidity out to our car. We were almost to the car when I thought I heard someone trying to get our attention. As I turned my head to see 2 hicks climbing into their big ol' truck, one of them shouted, "show us your tits." I suppose I could have misunderstood him, but as I told T, their shit-eating grins suggested that I'd heard them just fine.

It's often fun when people mistake T and I for sisters, or even friends, but not so much when the person making the mistake is a country bumpkin who isn't ready to concede that May is over and who doesn't bother to think before opening his mouth.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Crazy Kids

My sis J and her boyfriend J2 took off today for a 6 week backpacking trip through Europe. She just called from Newark, NJ, from where I hear something like a gazillion percent of US international flights depart. In less than 2 hours they'll leave lovely Newark and head for Dublin. Ireland!

They'll trek through Europe for weeks with nothing but their enormous backpacks. Ah, the energy of the young. We'll miss them terribly but definitely hope they have an amazing time!!!

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Back to the Drawing Board

Not to alarm you, but T was in a car accident several weeks ago. SHE IS FINE, thank heavens. Other than a bruised/scraped/sore knee, some soreness for a couple of days, and some bruises from her seatbelt, she appears to have emerged mostly unscathed. Liability is still being worked out, so I'm not going to go into the details here. (Does that make me sound like a lawyer?) I will tell you, though, that the other person involved in the collision was a teacher from her school. Oy vey.

The minor nature of her physical injuries notwithstanding, we were both pretty shaken up. It was a Friday morning, and I was at work. I thought T was on her way to school, but it turns out there were two important detours first: CVS for some trendy bottled tea, then Starbucks for coffee with a friend before school. When my office phone rang at 7:20am and it was her cell phone, I knew something was wrong. Typically, the only communications I get from her before her school days start are text messages.

I answered the phone; she was crying and reported that she'd been in a wreck. I rushed to the scene, were I took a few pictures with my camera phone, while willing my heart to stop pounding - I'd spoken with her, so I knew intellectually she was fine, but seeing the "wreckage" was tough on the ol' Mom.

We opted for an x-ray of her hurt knee, which was negative. By the time that whole process wrapped up, we were both exhausted from the morning's commotion. We headed home to recharge and both took 3 hour naps that afternoon.

T really liked her car, and it obviously took good care of her in this case. The original damage estimate was $5,300 and I authorized repair, hoping they would hurry up and get things fixed, as we have become quite accustomed to being a two car family. Last week I got the call: upon further inspection, it's not work fixing. After eight months driving it, T has totaled her first car. Why am I reminded of how quickly she went through shoes as a child? I hope she is not going to go through vehicles at the same pace.

About Me

Approaching Middle Age
Dabbling in Blogdom

Tear Down The Walls

Today's Song Lyric

All you do is call me, I'll be anything you need

Contact Me

E-mail: justplayinblog -at- gmail.com


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Blawgs I Read

(Fresh Pepper)
In the Agora
Do Not Overmix
From Engineer to Lawyer
Failure to Comprehend
Favorable Dicta
A Girl Walks Into a Bar(exam)
the imbroglio
Indiana Barrister
The Indiana Law Blog
IndyLaw Net
Legal Underground
The Menagerie
Mother in Law
The Neutral Zone Trap
Obiter Dictum
Screaming Bean
SC Trial Law Blog
Taking Down Words

Blogs I Read

About a Nurse
advanced maternal age
Be The Boy
code blog: tales of a nurse
Deb, hatched
Go Fug Yourself
Going Bananas
The Great Spirit
Jelly Beans...
Martinis, Persistence...
Overheard in New York
The Perils of Being in 3D
Post Secret
preaching to the perverted
Ruth's Blog
...the slack daily
Texas T-bone
30 Something Baby Doc
Unnamed Source
Waiting for the Punchline


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