Meet Francine. Isn't she hot?

This is Francine, my new furnace. She is one hot little tamale, let me tell you. She's expensive too. She cost me a lot, more money than I care to spare or share. Rewind to 2006, when I bought this lovely 1100 square foot Den of Delight. When I moved in, I was a bit concerned about the furnace. No one was quite sure about her exact age, but she was a lovely turquoise color and was the size of my entire laundry room, with just a tad bit of room left over for her friends: Washer, Dryer, and Litter box. I believe that Carol Brady might have had the same heating system in that infamous tri-level home of love in California. Oh, well, I digress. For the past 3 winters, I have been cold. I mean, really, really cold. That furnace seemed incapable of heating up above about 66 degrees. I would layer up, with my slippers and North Face fleece, as I sat in my own living room. Seeing that I was so damn cold, one might assume that I was just racking up bucks in savings. No, siree, this lowly teacher was forced to go on Citizens' Gas' wonderful budget plan. Otherwise, when my heating bill was $400, I would have had to sell my car. So, here I was, all budgeted out, but still cold. I knew that the day would come that replacement would be necessary, but I just didn't know when.

Flash forward to 2009. By the way, that is a great new show on TV, as I like to look at Joseph Fiennes. Alas, with my dear mother here for a weekend visit back in the beginning of October, she forced me to turn on the heat for the first time this season. I turned on the heat, turned it on, and turned it on. It was not interested in heating. The day had come, so I called this guy:








Gabe is my dear pal, married to a good friend, and one hell of a dancer. He's the perfect wedding guest, as he gets everyone to the dance floor. He also owns a heating and cooling company. Gabe came to the rescue, and sent out a service man. He doesn't actually get his own pristine hands covered in furnace goop. The news was grim. New part or new furnace. New part was quickly nixed, as parts for this dinosaur are no longer manufactured. Gabe proclaimed the birthdate of that beaut to be 1971. Freakin' unbelievable. That furnace is/was 38 years old. She had already been warming hearts and minds for 8 years when I was born. After a good long run, she was done. I had to buy a new hot box. Awesome. So, now I have taken the money that I was going to use to possibly go to Mexico with Sweet T to buy a new furnace. I will not be posting pictures of Mexico, so I have done the next best thing. Enjoy Francine. I know I am. I'm actually sitting in my living room sans North Face.

Fall Break

I left on Wednesday after school to go and see my Sweet T. Sweet T is my precious boyfriend of two years. Unfortunately, he resides in another state, so I only get to see him every other weekend. He is an odd little bird, which makes him perfect for yours truly. We did a lot of lounging, some hiking,lots of napping and better yet, some eating. Sweet T is a grill master. He enjoys the entire process, especially the consumption part. I gave up red meat in high school, and hadn't eaten it at all until about 2 years ago. Coincidence? That's when I met my red meat lovin' man. I discovered that there's little better than a VERY WELL COOKED cheeseburger from the grill. He makes one mean burger. So, now I eat a cheeseburger, only occasionally, and either cooked by this man or my sweet dad. I trust both of these men. Plus, I can watch the whole process, from the purchase of the very lean hamburger to the moment it is placed on the grill. I still have no interest in steak or burgers from restaurants, even one that is very dear to my family's heart, the lovely McDonald's. As I was getting jazzed about the preparation of the burgers, I came out on the back deck to discover this:





He enjoys having his hands free to grill. The light on the deck is also apparently insufficient. The burgers were good, but this miner's lamp was better.

Kate buys a Place

I went to see another of my BFFs, Kate, in Chicago last weekend. She just bought a beautiful condo all on her own. I'm so proud of her,and we always have a lot of fun. One of the things that I adore about Kate is that she is about the teeniest person I know. I mean a hair over 5 feet. She's literally about 1/2 my size. When we were in college, we used to speed walk around campus for exercise. Kate took 3 steps to every single step of mine. She's the Chihuahua and I'm the Great Dane. I'm the Jolly Green Giant and she's my Sprout. We make quite a pair. As we explored the city, I had to resist the urge to pick her up and put her on my hip like a toddler. But I did. That kind of gesture could possibly be construed as demeaning.

Two Sassy Girls go to Little Rock

One of my BFFs, Marinda, and I went to Little Rock, Arkansas two weeks ago for a work conference. BFF? Yes, as in Best Friends Forever, and we have the necklaces above to prove it. During our trip, she convinced me to ride on the Electric Trolley through downtown Little Rock, driven by this crazy woman:




As we boarded the trolley with our hot chocolates, she screamed, "No food or drinks!!!! This is an electric trolley!" I guess that meant that we could possibly be electrocuted. By our hot, frothy, chocolatey milks. Did I mention that it was pouring down rain with lightening and thunder? I was much less concerned about the drinks and more concerned about our trolley being struck by lightening like the clock tower in Back to the Future. I'm thrilled to say, we survived, and here are some "all aboard" pictures to prove it. See, we paid.








Oh, and I've tried about 18 times to rotate that picture. It won't cooperate.

Followers?

As I set up this blog, one of the options was to add "followers." I find this concept amusing. I "follow" many blogs, but I prefer my "reading" and "stalking" to remain anonymous, unless I choose to leave a comment. Maybe this is wrong, but I find the idea of me having followers hilarious. What am I, a disciple? Who would follow me? The only place I might lead you is into the nearest cupcake shop. So I left this feature off, because it kind of creeps me out. Or because I worry that no one would follow me and I would feel really lame. You decide.

I'm considering nostril reduction surgery.

I mean seriously. Have. you. ever? Have you ever seen blow holes this size on a person? I suppose many people have physical features they would like to change and/or improve. I have two major image issues. First, I have Polish thighs. My upper legs are a tad oversized for the rest of me. One year my pal Courtney and I were considering going as the Hilton sisters for Halloween. My very witty father remarked, "Court can pull that off, but Bets, what are you going to do about those Polish legs?" Alas, a strict regimen of Jillian Michaels and regular pilates and yoga classes have tamed them a smidge. I can improve them through diet and exercise.

My other issue can only be tackled through surgery. Many people have undergone rhinoplasty, and altered their looks, think Jennifer Grey. The surgeon usually messes with the cartilage on the bridge of the nose, I know this because I was once a doctor:) To date, I've yet to hear of a nose job that reduces the size of one's nostrils. How would this be achieved? I would recommend that cartilage from my ears might be taken to fill in the gaping holes a bit, but I already have very tiny ears. I don't have any to spare. This may seem merely a cosmetic issue, but I assure you it is the root of psychological and also medical woes. In the 6th grade, my caring father bought me an electric nose hair trimmer because my enormous nasal cavities displayed geriatric style nose hair. I was being called "Grandpa" by my kind peers. I also suffer from chronic sinus infections due to abnormally large receptacles for germs. I know of only one other person who suffers from this injustice. He shares my gene pool and my plight. Brother Rob is pictured at the top.

Hello...I have no hobbies.

I've decided to start writing a blog. I read lots of my friends' blogs, who all have precious children who do monumental things that are worthy of documentation. I do not fit that mold. I live alone. With my cat. I did not think my life fit into the blogging world. However, I discovered a whole network of blogs about young women who write about what they wear each day, eat for lunch, and other simply mindless topics. I do have a niche! I can write about these things!!! I belong! So this blog will be dedicated to all of my oddities and quirks, funny encounters and general silliness. So here goes...