Just call me Kerouac

When one travels by car from the Eastern part of the good United States into the shallow South, one tends to see some things along the way.  Some funny things, some not-so-funny things that become a LOT funnier after you’ve been in the same car for a good 400 miles at a clip.

First, I’ll admit up front that I’m not a bumper sticker kind of girl.  It’s not that I don’t want to affect the trade-in value on my sweet ’03 Honda Civic.  No, much simpler – I can’t find a slogan that I’m willing to express to the world on a daily basis via my vehicle.  Same goes for my backside.  No fanny slogans, thank you very much.

Some of my fellow road warriors don’t have my bumper issues.  One lady had her bumper basically wallpapered with bumper stickers, showing here:

 

This is fine – I don’t have anything against being told every single one of someone’s personal views through snappy little slogans.  Little hard to read 10 of these views while passing, but still.  Gets an A for effort.  However, one must be consistent.  If one chooses to have at least 10 messages, as this individual did, one should NOT then have a bumper sticker that reads “Actions speak louder than bumper stickers.”  Ah, roadtrip irony.

The other memorable moment occurred at the North Carolina Welcome Center.  We were walking up to the center when we heard it.  A child screaming?  Nope.  Dog barking?  Guess again.  Tractor trailer backfiring?  Sorry.

We heard a rooster crowing.

I don’t know (nor do I care to speculate) how it got there, but there was an angry little rooster in the welcome shrubbery, basically scaring the crap out of the good road travelers just trying to catch a quick bathroom break.

On the other hand, the rooster was thematically appropriate, because the welcome center smelled like a barnyard.

What is THAT???

While buying cold cuts for our vacation, we came across the most interesting...concoction yesterday in the deli department which inspired a new post theme - what is THAT????

Today's contender, a substance vaguely titled "Cheese Delight."  Kicker is there is nothing about this particular quivery mess that suggests either cheese or delight.  In fact, the shellacked surface and unidentifiable beige goo gave off more of an "Food Item Fear" vibe.

So, take a look at the picture below and please help me out by answering what is THAT????

Modern Melting Pot (or Llllllllet the Bodies Hit the Floor)

After having successfully using my jedi mind powers to not merely divert Tropical Storm Emily from the North Carolina coastline but obliterate the entire stinking weather system yesterday, I needed to give my brain a rest.  Enter a fellow troublemaker, the Lucy to my Ethel.

After considering the various merits of hitting up the karaoke at Hooters (fill in your joke workbooks at home, kids) Lucy and I decided to bust (HA!) out our skills at a karaoke contest at a much tamer local restaurant.

Way back in middle school, I learned America was considered to be the great Melting Pot for welcoming people from all cultures.  (I’ve been trying to come up with a funny way to spin the subsequent discrimination against these same immigrants but dang it, I can’t figure out how to make bigotry funny.  I’m blaming my lack of brain workiness on the insanely high level of noise in my house today.  The Kiddos are less than 24 hours away from a vacation.  They are therefore blazing around the house like amped up coke fiends.  Yup, just used a drug simile to describe my kids.  You stay classy, San Diego.  Moving on.)

Anyway, last night, I discovered the modern melting pot – the karaoke bar.  Oh, the sights that we saw.  Old, young, tall, small, skinny or fluffy – all signed their releases and stepped up to the mike.  As we looked around, Lucy and I realized that we had to record just a few of the things we saw for posterity.  We spent the next few hours mining some blog gold.  Enjoy the following nuggets.

First up, a bit of karaoke irony.  If you are going to choose a song for a karaoke contest, pick a song you know.  One would think this would go without saying.  One would be wrong, as one contestant demonstrated. 

I got a little worried for this particular lady when I saw her nervously touching up her lip gloss four times before she went on to sing.  Sticky Gloss steps up to the mike, her music starts and….nothing.  Words are turning from red to green on the guide screen, but Sticky Gloss has frozen.  She turns to the MCs and they generously give her another chance.  This time, Sticky Gloss gamely stumbles her way through the first 1/3 of the song then admits defeat, throws the mike back to the MC and slinks back to her seat.  The song?  Shania Twain’s That Don’t Impress Me Much.  Indeed, Sticky Gloss, indeed.

Let us turn from the absolutely terrified to another variety of contestant – the supremely disinterested.  This individual tries as hard as possible to let everyone in the room know that s/he doesn’t really care about this silly little contest.  Yet, this person shows up every single week to compete.  And finish fourth.

Listen people, I've been to this rodeo before.  And I.  Don't.  Care.  I'm giving you The Rose and then I'm sitting my sweet self on this chair and texting for the rest of the night.  That's all you get from me.  So suck it.

Finally, we arrive at the sublimely ridiculous.  Lucy and I noticed this particular individual chiefly because he arrived in a yellow satin boxing robe.  Let that one sink in for a second.  A yellow.  Satin.  Boxing robe.  Yes, we did have a serious debate as to whether this particular individual had pants on.  (Thankfully, he did.)  Five points if you can guess what this guy listed as his favorite movies?  That’s right, the Rocky series.  You can’t make this stuff up.

Now, the karaoke contest MC is a wise individual, knowing just how to stir the various elements of the melting pot to achieve the best show possible.  Rocky, therefore, was strategically given a later spot in the line-up.  He strutted up to the mike and threw open the robe to reveal…black bike shorts.  Again, pause to get the full effect.  Under his yellow satin boxing robe, Rocky wore black bike shorts.  Although, I guess we should be thankful that Rocky had some sort of pant on at all?

As Rocky began to…sing, I quickly realized that words simply could not do this performance any justice.  Therefore, may I present to you the following snippet so that you, too, can bask in the glory that is Rocky.

Our forefathers would truly be proud.

Jedi Mind Powers

My fam is currently deep into vacation preparations for a trip to the beautiful North Carolina beaches next week.  Since we are renting a house on an island where groceries can get a little pricey, I have been working my coupon magic over the past couple of months to get food for the trip.  Dry goods bin is packed and sitting by the door to the deck, cooler is empty and ready to be filled with our frozens. 

The Kiddos have been raring to go since summer began.  If we had let Girl #2, she would have packed her entire set of summer clothes and stuffed animal collection on June 10, the day after school ended.  We actually caught her halfway through the process and had a lengthy discussion about why she needed to keep her clothes out to actually, you know, wear during the summer.  Sorry Girl #2, but The Man hates naked.  Thankfully, Girl #2 is nothing if not open to reason and has been fully clothed all summer.

All pre-game preparations were humming along until I checked the weather yesterday evening.  Opening up weather.com, I went to the 10-day forecast.  Hmmm, I thought to myself as I clicked around the site, nothing out of the ordinary….thunderstorms….fine….low 90s….OK, looking good….wait, what?  Emily?  EMILY?!?!?!?! 

“HUUUSSSSSBAAAAAND!!!!”

“What?”

(frantically putting on my meteorologist hat to analyze projected paths and strengthening potential)

“There’s a HURRICANE THAT’S GOING TO HIT US DURING VACATION!”

Husband sighs.

Perhaps this would be a good time to mention my slight propensity to blow things a BIT out of proportion.  The jump to conclusions mat from Office Space?  Sign.  Me.  Up. 

To illustrate - last summer one of my tires slowly went flat during an hour-long solo trip to my parents’ house.  Because I tend to crank up my Broadway/Glee mix CDs when I’m alone in the car (OK, OK, and because I’m generally oblivious to the world around me), I noticed (and heard) nothing.  The tire was almost completely flat before I realized something was up.  Or another motorist kindly told me.  Bygones.

The next day, I trucked the flat tire over to my car place and explained what had happened.  Fifteen minutes later, the shop front desk guy came out and asked what made me think that the tire was flat.  I explained the situation, complete with “thump, thwak, thump, thwak” sound effects.  The guy looks at me, pauses, then tells me that they hooked up the flat-tire-air-machine-analyzer (yes, official name) and didn’t find anything….YOU STUPID GIRL.  (OK, I made up that last part.  But it was implied.)  I slunk out quickly.

I promise you that the tire was flat.  Really.  I have witnesses and everything.  But, as it magically sealed itself, I can only assume that my claims of possessing magic (Student:  How’d you know I was texting, Mrs. Alison?  Me:  Because I’m magic.) are actually true.  As far as mending flat tires goes, anyway.

Back to my blowing things out of proportion.  Since my flat tire incident, I have been paranoid that I’m hearing flat-tire noises when I drive.  I’m not proud of it, but I constantly think my left front tire is going to blow.  And I have been so sure of a flat that I’ve pulled off the road to check.  Irrational?  Sure.  My reality?  Yup.

Now, let’s take this special little brand of crazy and apply it to Tropical Storm Emily. 

I now know that there’s a storm near Haiti that has a chance of hitting (grazing, really) southern North Carolina on Sunday at 2 p.m.  This is the exact time when we are supposed to be on a ferry to our island paradise.  My mind immediately pictures The Perfect Storm combined with Titanic.  Husband shrugs and says "what can we do?  It is what it is" while I’m figuring out how many kids can fit on an abandoned door.

In between hurricane survival contingency plans, my brain tells me I need to use its remaining capacity to move the path of the storm out to the Atlantic.  What, you didn’t know I have weather-affecting mind powers?  Pfffffttttt, of COURSE I do!  Why else have I been checking weather and hurricane-related websites on a five-minute basis since I found out about the storm, pausing only to sleep and recharge my magic? 

And don’t even try to tell me it hasn’t worked – I’ve already saved the western coast of Florida just since last night.  You’re welcome, Tampa!

Um, do I need to explain why Husband is pretty much a saint?  No?  OK then, back to NOAA.gov – I’ve got a tropical storm path to divert!

My Dirty Little Secret

The conversation started off innocently enough.

Husband:  “Hey, Al, I’m out of razors.” 

Me:  “Wait, what?  How???”

Husband:  “Um, maybe because the last time you bought me razors was two years ago?”

Me:  “But it’s SUNDAY AFTERNOON – the deals have already come out!  Everything will be gone!  (deep breath) OK….I’m going to go get a newspaper and hit RiteAid.  I’ll be back!”

Fear not, Husband has not been scraping rusty blades against his skin for the past few months.  No, he has had a full supply of razors that all gush water and make jet-fighter noises as they rid his face of stubble.  (That’s what happens in the commercials, so it must be true, right?  Oh.  Sidenote - I was similarly disappointed as a kid when my maple syrup bottle just sat there and no dirt-fighting little sponges sprang forth from a cleanser can.  My mother was less than enthused when I wasted both bottles looking for cartoon characters.)

My good people, so that we can firmly live together in the Trust Tree, I must tell you that I have a slight confession to make.  Gosh, this is hard.  OK, deep breath.  I am a……. coupon lady.  There, I said it.

I wasn’t always like this.  Three years ago I didn’t give coupons a second thought.  Or any thought, really.  Then my career switch caused our household income to drastically change and something had to be done because: a) the switch was necessary to preserve what little shreds of my soul remained; and b) my babies had to eat.

It all began with an innocent Google search about “saving money.”  Suddenly I found myself immersed in websites where people triumphantly described how they fed their families of 18 on $50 a week.

A light bulb went on.  This was our solution!  I could continue down my career-changing path AND my babies could still eat – win, win, win!

Coincidentally, a few weeks later, Kmart had the glorious event known as Super Doubles.  (This program has drastically changed.  Tear.)  Basically, Kmart would double any coupon UP TO $2.  A $2 coupon was now worth $4.  What does this mean?  Well, for starters, two years’ worth of free razors for Husband.  We are also still working our way through our supply of free Fantastik and Lysol cleaning sprays and Lysol air freshener.  We just ran out of free Band-Aids last month.

On my first trip to Kmart, I now realize that I was incredibly unprepared.  I only brought coupons for the items I wanted to buy, assuming (pfffftttt!) that all the things I wanted would be there.   I ended up buying some hand soap and four boxes of cereal and paid a ridiculous $3 for the whole shebang.  I hurtled home and burst through the door, waving my bags.

“HUSBAND!!!!  You’renotgoingtobelievewhatIjustdidIsavedallsortsofmoneyandIhavetogetmorecouponsandgobackrightnow!!!”  During this stream, I threw the cereal at Husband as I tore upstairs to change and grab more coupons.

There is one detail that embarrasses me about my first couponing experience.  No, it’s not the buying 10 boxes of cereal at once.  I own my savings.  What makes me cringe is how I irrationally decided that I needed to change my outfit before I headed back to the store for a second go.  Which I did.  I also might have worn sunglasses on my second trip.  Um, and a hat.  You know, the coupon police and all.  (FYI - No, stores do not generally care if you make more than one trip.  You’ll thank me when you don’t have buy that fake mustache for days when you make multiple shopping trips.)

After that first day, I enlisted Husband so we could rock two orders per trip.  Deep in the throes of heady savings, we’d hit Kmart twice a day – once in the morning and once in the evening.  Because I’m crazy like that, I kept track of our overall cost vs. shelf price – we ended up saving a good 75%.

Don’t worry, I’m not building Jello towers or anything.  (Husband: Yet.)  We do have a …healthy supply of cereal, laundry detergent and frozen veggies, but it was all free.  And I am now a happy soul-filled teacher.  Woo!

And yesterday?  I got Husband two Gillette  ProFusion battery-powered razors for $6.  Retail $26.  AND I have $5 to spend on my next trip.  Boo-yah.

P.S. For those of you that may want to get started, here are some of the deal-compiling sites I like:

For the Mommas  - Deals for PA grocery stores, national chain drugstores and Target

My Frugal Adventures - West coast stores

Hot Coupon World - Forums contain previews for deals at most chain grocery and drug stores