Not the Sharpest Knife in the Drawer

When I used to work at the restaurant, all those many moons ago, a wise man told me that I wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.  Or his other favorite, “not the sharpest tool in the shed.”  And it’s true.  I can write thirty page research papers, but never remember where I put my keys.  I have memorized all of the Latin names for every bone in the body, but I could never understand how the jumper cables hook to a car battery.  I need written instructions on how to start a lawn mower.  I have a scientific brain, not a technical one. 

Today, after the latest snow fall, I decided that I needed to clear the driveway.  Last night I wrote down specific instructions from my husband (who is in Oklahoma) on how exactly to start and operate the snowblower.  I bundled myself up, and headed out into the winter mess.  The snow was quite fluffy, making the job of shoveling the walkway easy.  I proceeded to uncover the snow-blower and survey the several buttons, dials and knobs on the operator panel.  I pulled out my instructions, and followed each step diligently.  Then came the pulling of the cord to start the engine.  Horrible flashbacks of trying to start the weed-whacker ripped through my mind.  After the third pull, the engine did roar to life.  I turned down the choke (per my instructions) and off I went. 

The first lesson I learned, quite quickly I might add, was that you should always check to see which way the blower part is facing.  All you need is one mouthful of snow to realize that you need to point the blower away from you.  Then comes the lesson of which way you need to blow the snow, so that your previous work doesn’t get covered up.  This was a little harder for me to get a grasp of, and it took a little trial and error to get it right.  (Remember, not the sharpest tool in the shed.)

After figuring out a couple of these nuances, I began to clear away the four inches of snow that covered our driveway, feeling quite accomplished.  I thought to myself, this isn’t that hard, why did I worry about doing this?  I continued to clear the main driveway, and feeling sure of my technique, decided to do the turn-around also.  As soon as I made the first cut, the engine started to sputter and cough.  I thought that maybe it was out of gas, so I turned it off and got the gas container. 

After learning the engine was hot, (you can suffer a guess on how I found that out), I began to carefully pour gas from a very heavy gas container, into a very small hole on the top of the housing.  Of course, the gas went pretty much everywhere except for that little hole.  After perfecting my pouring method, I replaced the gas cap, pulled the choke out, pumped the primer bulb and pulled the cord.  Nothing.  I tried again and again, but to no avail.  The engine would not start.  I looked at my instructions, looked at the operator panel, and everything was pointing to where it should be.  Confused and a little embarrassed, I decided I probably damaged the snow-blower beyond repair, and started thinking of stories I could tell my husband of why the brand new snow-blower didn’t work anymore. 

So, with most of the driveway cleared, I went back inside, still trying to figure out what I did to this piece of equipment.  Well, to make a long story short, it appears that when an engine is hot, you do not have to prime it, nor do you have to pull the choke all the way out in order to start it.  Apparently when you do this, you flood the engine with too much gas, preventing it from starting.  I’ll add that to my list of newly learned items.  Maybe it’s just easier to pay someone twenty bucks to come and plow.  I’ll keep that in mind next time I decide to mess with heavy machinery.

"What Are You, A F*cking World Travela?

In my blog, “Postal Employee Newman”, I relayed the horrors of the post office and the ridiculousness of the passport application process to you.  And so you ask, “Did you get your passport?”  You ask and so you shall receive your answer.

About three weeks after I submitted the application, I received a form in the mail accompanied by a letter from the State Department, claiming that I needed to prove that I had changed my name when I was sixteen.  After recalling the process in my mother’s and my memories, I went to the town clerk of Marlborough and explained my case.  Since I had lived in Marlborough at the time of the name change, I assumed that they would have the original form and paperwork.  The clerk was able to find the application and the probate court order, made me the necessary copies and stamped the copies with the seal.  I put them directly into an envelope and mailed them out to the State Department without delay.

Two weeks after, I received a call from the Passport Agency in Norwalk, Connecticut.  As soon as I looked at the caller ID, my stomach sank.  I answered and the guy proceeded to tell me that the paperwork I sent in had been altered.  I was silent for a few seconds, trying to understand what he meant.  He said that the document had been written in either light pen or pencil, and then written over with heavier ink, making it an altered document.  He needed to have the original, or a letter from the judge of probate saying that the document was indeed the original.  I sat there, dumbfounded, because I knew that the judge that signed the original document died some years ago, and that the original clerk was no longer clerk, and hadn’t been for probably a decade.  After I hung up, I just sat there, confused and angry, and pretty much concluding that I was screwed.

I began my quest in getting verification for the original document.  I tried calling the District Probate Court, only to be either told no one was there to answer my question, or that I could leave a message.  I left numerous messages, and no one called me back.  I tried going to the actual office, during their published business hours, only to find that no one was there, and the office was locked up tight. 

During all of this bullsh*t, and the growing feeling that I may never be able to obtain my passport, I realized that if I had five thousand dollars in cash, I could get my passport with little to no effort through illegal channels.  This is how most terrorists obtain them, so why can’t I?  Well, since I don’t have the necessary capital to do this, I was unceremoniously thwarted in my illegal dealings, and realized that I would have to get the damn thing through legal means.

Two days before Christmas, after calling the office again only to find out that they took an extended holiday, a package arrived in the mail.  I opened it, and much to my wondering eyes should appear, was a small blue passport, complete with my photo and pertinent vital information.  They also had the kindness of sending me back my birth certificate and the copies of the name change application.  There was no letter accompanying the passport, so I had no idea what changed their minds about accepting the application the way it was.  Someone took pity on me, and realizing that I wasn’t a terrorist and that I was actually born in this country and have lived here all of my life, decided to do a good deed.  Or, the guy who had originally taken my case went on vacation and someone else processed my application.  In any event, I am now the proud owner of a United States Passport.  What a long, strange trip it’s been.  From the post office to the town hall to the probate court, from sea to shining frigging sea…

Tasks for the New Year

Finally, the end of 2010.  What a year...what a crappy year.  Hopefully, 2011 will make its mark as a good year.  I have made some goals for the new year.  Of course, I would like to lose weight, but I'm putting that one on the back burner for now.  I've got some other fish to fry first.  Maybe I can just change my eating habits and exercise a little more, rather than try to go on a full-blown diet.  Everytime I try, I know I'm going to fail before I even have a chance to begin. 

My major goal for this year is to first potty train Michael.  I began this process just after Christmas, with some successes.  We've had some accidents and some on-purposes, but on the whole, its coming along.  Maybe with all of the trips up and down the stairs to clean the potty, I will start to lose some of the weight. 

Once the potty training is well underway, I will be registering my son for preschool.  He needs socialization and Mommy needs to get out of the house.  I think I need the socialization more than he does.  I'm not so sure that I can play well with others, its been a long time.

In the midst of this, I also have a baby shower that I am planning for a certain preggo (you know who you are!).  This is going well so far, but is on hold right now until we know whether this new bundle is a boy or a girl.  We've got the location, the menu, and I've picked out the invitations, we'll just have to wait to know if those are pink or blue. 

In there also I have to do the taxes, and this year I may actually try to file electronically.  That is my goal, tax-wise...to make the leap into the 21st century and file my returns electronically.  We'll see how that process goes.  In any case, I'll probably get ideas for more blogs.

Also this year, I plan to hopefully make my first out of country travel plans.  I finally did receive my passport, with much tribulation (but that's a story for another blog).  It will be a short trip, because I don't think I can leave my kids for more than three or four days tops.  Even though most days I feel like a nutjob, I still miss them when they are not around me.  But its England or bust!

Okay, so that takes care of the goals for January, February, March and April.  I don't think I have anything planned for May yet, but its still early.  Maybe a nice girl's day with my mother and my sister?? HINT, HINT!  Maybe something in the shade of dinner and Crate and Barrel?  Or perhaps a trip to Yankee Candle? 

June is already a nightmare and its still six months away.  Out of all the months in the year, this one holds the most birthdays, anniversaries, and parties.  We have, I think, five birthdays in June, with another one still to be determined.  We have three anniversaries.  I don't think anyone is graduating this year, and we have Father's Day. 

July and August hold some weddings and our ninth wedding anniversary.  Nine years...feels like thirty!  Just joking, dear.  Then we'll be getting ready for the start of another school year, when not one, but two children get to ride the big yellow bus to school!  By this time, hopefully, I will have found a job, because I cannot wait to go back to work.  I have been looking forward to it for a long time.  I just hope there are jobs available when I am finally able to start looking.  A few more months to go!

Crap, there goes September, bringing us to the start of the holiday season.  October, November, and December, the nightmare months.  And then the end of the year.  Wow, that was fast.  Time flies when you're having...fun?