blog news, home, musings

One hit wonders in the blogosphere…

Good Thursday to you all. Bill arrived home yesterday afternoon, just as I was baking a refrigerator clearing casserole. You know the kind, right? When you have a bunch of stuff in your fridge that needs to be used up before it rots, you think of creative ways to use the stuff. In yesterday’s case, I made an Italian inspired baked pasta dish of sorts.

I boiled half a bag of penne pasta, then cooked the last bit of breakfast sausage and a little bacon, added some peppers and a smidge of onions and garlic, then added tomato sauce and cheese. I mixed all of that stuff together with some basil and oregano, and a little dash of cayenne pepper. Then I threw the mixture into my cast iron pot, sprinkled with cheese, and baked it. It turned out very nicely, and was ready just as Bill was changing his clothes.

Last night, we put a new mattress topper on the bed. I don’t know what got into me last month. I decided I was tired of waking up with a sore back, so I ordered a new foam rubber topper, which I figured would be better than the featherbed we have. It took a lot to decide which one to buy, but after the first night, I can say that my back was not nearly as achy this morning. I also put the featherbed on it, mainly because I don’t have anywhere to put it.

The new topper and featherbed makes the bed very tall. Arran was already having difficulty when the bed was made up with the duvet. Now, it’s impossible for him to jump up there by himself. I ordered him some steps yesterday, although I don’t know how long he’ll get to use them. The vet found another mass on him yesterday. But again… he’s still bright eyed and hungry, so we’ll keep taking care of him. I’m sure the steps will come in handy again eventually.

I also ordered some new lighting for my office and the bedroom, after watching Katie Wenger on Meet the Wengers yesterday. Her daughter has this really cool night light that lights the room up with stars. I never had a night light when I was a child, but my former friend did. I didn’t like them back then, but as an adult I can now see their value. And I like the idea of stars on the ceiling without actually having to use glow in the dark stickers. 😉

Now… what’s today’s title about?

Lately I’ve been getting a lot more blog traffic. Once again, it’s because someone must have shared my post about Amber and Daniel Carter. Most of the traffic is going to those two posts, the first of which happened to come up because I watched a French documentary about the “half-housed” in the United States. The second post in which I mentioned Amber was after someone left me a comment wanting an update. I don’t actually know anything about Amber or Daniel Carter, other than what’s available online. I have no connection with that case. I’m just as curious as everyone else is. Actually, I’m less so, because I’ve long since moved on from that post. People are intrigued by true crime, though.

This isn’t the first time I’ve written a “one hit wonder”. I guess, technically, that doesn’t make me a one hit wonder. 😉 Nine years ago, I wrote a post on my music blog about Richard Carpenter’s daughter, Mindi Carpenter. That post, on my least popular blog, is probably far and away my most popular post, EVER. At this writing, it has well over 122,000 hits. It also has 31 comments, several of which comes from someone who INSISTS that Richard Carpenter and his wife, Mary (who is also his cousin), are closely blood related.

The official story is that Mary Carpenter was adopted, so she and Richard, though legal first cousins, have no blood ties. This person who has commented several times, insists that she was not adopted. I don’t know Richard or Mary, and as they’ve had five healthy children who are now adults, I don’t see why it’s anyone’s business if they’re blood relatives. Richard and Mary maintain that Mary was adopted. As far as I’m concerned, that should be the end of it.

I think the main reason why inbreeding is frowned upon is because of the possibility of birth defects. It’s pretty plain to me that wasn’t an issue with Richard and Mary and their children. So, honestly, who cares? They’ve been married since 1984, so obviously, the marriage works, even if some people think it’s “weird”. I say leave them alone.

The funny thing is, the original post was about Mindi Carpenter, who is a singer. I’m sure a lot of people come to the post wanting to know if Mindi sounds like her Aunt Karen. In my opinion, she really doesn’t. To me, she sounds less like a pop star with an extraordinary voice, and more like someone in musical theater. Some of the comments are about Mindi’s voice, but too many come from someone who seems obsessed with the “truth” about Richard and Mary.

I’ve noticed that post getting so many hits over the years. I wanted to try something a few years ago, when Merrill Osmond’s son, Troy, died unexpectedly. I wrote about him, and noticed my post got a lot of hits. So I wrote a post about what Troy and Mindi had in common. Sure enough… lots of hits. But then I moved my blog, and decided not to move that post… at least not at this point in time. I didn’t move it because I didn’t see the point. I had written it as an experiment. The experiment is over now.

One final post that I notice gets a lot of hits is one I wrote about Karen Carpenter and Christy Henrich. I noticed that Dr. Todd Grande on YouTube did a video about Karen Carpenter. I wondered if maybe he shouldn’t do one about Christy Henrich, since she was a fascinating person who died much too young of anorexia nervosa. Henrich, for those who don’t know, was a very promising gymnast in the 1980s. She missed the Olympic team by the tiniest of margins, and then tragically fell very ill with her eating disorders. Her story is a very sad, cautionary one… and I just thought it would make for a good topic for Dr. Grande to cover. Lots of people hit my blog to read my post about that subject, which kind of proves my theory that it would be interesting and successful. But then, I don’t know… maybe it wouldn’t. I write a lot about eating disorders, and get a lot of hits on my posts about that– and fundie Christians, too.

It always intrigues me to see what people on the Internet want to read. On my travel blog, I get tons of hits on the few posts I’ve written about nude spas. I also get a lot of hits on my posts about the differences I’ve noticed between living in Wiesbaden and Stuttgart (and there are surprisingly many). Some people also arrive wanting to read about living here as a contractor versus someone in the military. I can only offer opinions as an observant spouse with a husband who isn’t reticent about his experiences working with the military in Germany. But people are interested in those posts, too. They don’t care about my experiences on day trips or vacations. 😉 I think that’s a shame, since Bill and I have had some pretty amazing experiences.

Besides my posts on Amber Carter, this blog also gets a lot of hits on my posts about domestic discipline and corporal punishment, as well as book reviews about sex related subjects. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised… What I find interesting, most other people don’t! Story of my life!

Well… anyway, I just think it’s interesting. Obviously, people come here for the subject matter, not the writing. Maybe I should relax and stop editing as much as I do, hours or days after I post.

Oh… and I also notice where people come from. I have a surprising number of European readers, although I also get hits from the States. It always intrigues me when someone hits from a place I used to live… especially when they come from the town where I was raised from the age of eight. The other places, I didn’t live in long enough to make that much of a difference. But I still have lots of friends in Gloucester, Virginia, even if I have long since moved on from there, and so have my parents.

I didn’t get around to practicing guitar yesterday, so I think I’ll sign off now and play my instrument… maybe I’ll even do a music video. Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day, so perhaps I should honor my Celtic heritage. We shall see.

Until tomorrow, y’all. Sayonara.

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home, technology

My big time office makeover…

The featured photo is of my new setup for my old computer, and the snazzy new lighting strip. I can control the lights from my computer (home app). They’re pretty cool.

Yesterday ended up being very busy. I ordered a bunch of stuff for my office, and most of it showed up yesterday. It started with a slim dock port I got for the new computer, so I would have some ports that could handle my old peripherals until it’s time to replace them with USB C type devices. Then I got a new table for my old computer. I was going to add the old machine to my pile of discarded computers, but then I determined that I might be able to use the old computer for media… making videos, playing music, watching movies or videos etc.

The new table is very nice. It’s made of solid pine, and has a lovely aroma of fresh wood. I was in the middle of putting it together when my new HomePod Mini showed up with a smart socket and smart Nanoleaf strip lights. I hadn’t planned to buy the socket or the lights, but Apple did a successful suggestive sell move. I’m actually glad I bought the strip lights, because they look really cool and offer much needed lighting to my usually dim workspace.

I spent about an hour putting the table together, mostly screwing in the forty screws it took. It’s perfect for what I needed it for, but putting it together came with a price. I got two blisters on my right palm. It was also quite an effort to get it upstairs to my room. The thing weighs a lot. It’ll probably last for the rest of my life, though.

After I got the table set up, I put the old computer on it, and started configuring things. I unpacked the light strip and wondered where I should put it. Then I realized it was just about the right length to go around the front of the new table. Now, I have new lighting on my new table holding the old computer.

Meanwhile, I’ve been slowly setting up the new computer, which is turning out to be more difficult than I expected. Starting with the new VESA arm and ending with transferring files– mostly music files, some of which are on CDs– has been a real pain. For some reason, even though Apple still sells the SuperDrive (with the USB connection), I had to buy a special connection to get it to work on the new computer. And even then, there’s no telling if it actually will work. Half the time, when I try to import a CD, the Internet gets knocked offline.

I will say this, though… When the Internet is robust, and I have all of the speakers going, it really sounds good. The trouble is, our Internet has become very fragile lately. This was a problem even before I got the new computer. My next upgrade will be a CD tower for all of the CDs I’ve accumulated since we’ve been in Germany. I don’t buy them unless the music is something I really want in my collection and I can’t download it. I have a whole lot of CDs in storage, too. If I ever move back to the USA and live in my own house, I’ll have a wall full of them.

I actually moved my old office chair back into my workspace. It works better than the new one Bill got me for Christmas. I put that one in the entertainment/Noyzi’s room. Someday, maybe we’ll use that room more often than we do.

By the time I’d written two fresh blog posts and practiced guitar, I was pretty exhausted. When Bill got home, he walked the dogs. Today, I’m not expecting any deliveries, so I plan to walk the dogs. The exercise will do us all some good, although Arran looks like he’s getting kind of tired. He seems determined to stay with us for as long as he possibly can. He truly adores us on a rare level. Unfortunately, the lymphoma will eventually win.

This post is probably not that interesting to most people. I could be writing snark about the Duggars, especially Josh– who appears to have gotten into some trouble in prison. I haven’t read Jinger Vuolo’s book, and I probably won’t, because to me, it seems like she traded one cult for another.

I could also write about Timmy Rodrigues, who has apparently found himself a partner for courting… I could write about that, but I don’t care enough about it to watch the videos. Or, I’ve just been busier than usual. That could be a very snarky post. Maybe Toni will come back to chastise me. 😀

Meh, we’ll see. I’d like to get to a point at which I feel comfortable and functional with my new equipment. I sure have more computers than I ever thought I would. It’s hard to believe there was a significant portion of my life when I didn’t even have ONE computer. Now, I have six of them… and three of them don’t really work anymore and need to be ditched.

Yeah… I’ve been unusually busy this week. I hope the building projects will be finished soon.

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Bill, home, lessons learned, love, marriage

He still brings me flowers… but thankfully, he doesn’t sing me love songs…

Mushy bragging post ahead. You’ve been warned.

Yesterday, someone shared the photo below in the Duggar Family News group. They posted it because Josh Duggar is now a jailbird and is allegedly living this lifestyle. But as I read the characteristics in the meme, I realized that it’s also a pretty good description of my husband, Bill, who is definitely not worthy of the nickname “Wild Bill”, even though some of his friends jokingly used to call him that when they were in high school.

Bill hasn’t been to jail… at least that I know of. But this describes him pretty well.

I had to copy and share the above photo, because I know those who know my husband would get a good laugh from it. The truth is, he’s really not the most exciting guy in the world in terms of loving the nightlife. His brain goes down with the sun, in that he really can’t function beyond 9:00pm. It’s like Cinderella at midnight. He turns into a pumpkin. BUT– he is kind, thoughtful, hardworking, decent, intelligent, and an excellent provider. I consider myself very fortunate to be his wife. And I’ll tell you something else… I don’t think I would enjoy being married to an “exciting” guy who loves the nightlife and wants to boogie. I’m very happy to be married to someone who is loyal, kind, and considerate, and loves me for just who I am.

Last night, Bill had to work late, thanks to Mr. Putin. He was also planning to telework today, although that was called off last night. On the way home, he stopped at the store to pick up some orange juice. While he was there, he noticed bouquets of roses. And although I hadn’t sent him any emails indicating depression, irritation, or anything else, he decided to pick up one of those bouquets for me, just because it was Friday night and he’d had to work late… and right now, things are kind of depressing and bleak.

When he got home, past 7:30pm, Bill found me sitting at our Eckbank Gruppe, listening to music and drinking beer. He didn’t know I was feeling a little blue as he pulled out the bouquet of roses in today’s featured photo and presented them to me with a big smile. I was pretty moved that, even after nineteen years of marriage, Bill still likes to surprise me sometimes with unexpected delights. He knows I like flowers– especially red roses, which are my birth flower. And it was such a small thing, but it put a much needed smile on my face, since I was feeling a little sad last night.

This time of year in Germany can be kind of rough, especially if you’re from the southern United States and used to sunshine. The weather usually sucks. It’s cold, dark, and often rainy, so it’s not always appealing to get out and about. When we lived near Stuttgart, it would often snow, though not as often as it did in decades past. Up here near Frankfurt, it doesn’t snow very often. When it does, we get maybe an inch or two and it quickly melts. I don’t miss the snow that would stick around for weeks, but the alternative is the soupy, sloppy mess in the backyard and gets tracked through the house. Of course, that happened in Baden-Württemberg too, as the snow melted. I remember coming in from walking the dogs inevitably always with mud all over my pants, because there was water and mud everywhere and we lived in a relatively rural area.

The pandemic makes the crappy weather worse, because we can’t really have much fun. Yes, places are open, but it’s just a real hassle to go out in public, and even going out for a change of scenery is a reminder of the plague and how transmissible it is. I have some hope that when the weather is better, I will feel somewhat less depressed. But for now, it’s especially stark and bleak. So that little bouquet of grocery store roses was a real pick-me-up. I genuinely appreciated it, and the thought that went into the gift. But one thing Bill doesn’t do is sing me love songs…

Bill doesn’t sing me love songs because he can’t… But he probably would, if he could sing in a way that wouldn’t send me running from the room.

I actually love the above duet, which is kind of a sad song about the death of a relationship. But I’m glad I can’t relate personally to this song, because nineteen years past our wedding day, Bill still brings me flowers and presents them with a sweet smile. I was terminally dateless in my younger years. It seemed like everyone thought I was weird or even legitimately “crazy”, and many people had criticisms about me that ran the gamut from my penchant for profanity and inappropriate frankness, to the fact that I don’t have a cute figure, or a desire to be dressed up and made up all the time, to my propensity toward depression. By the time I was 27 years old, I thought I was going to be an “old maid”. That was the year Bill and I ran into each other in an “adult” chat room… where no one was really chatting about adult subjects. At least not publicly.

It was absolutely the last place I would have expected to find my spouse. At the time, I was very new to the World Wide Web. I was bored and lonely, having started grad school in a strange city. I didn’t know anyone or have any friends. One night, I decided to indulge the kinkier side of my personality and wound up in that chat room, where Bill also was… freshly separated from Ex and living alone in a state far from me. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to meet him offline, let alone marry him. I am now convinced that we must have been destined to meet, because we’re just so perfect for each other.

A couple of days ago, I was reading a thread on RfM, and a guy was lamenting about how he was finding it difficult to meet a nice woman following the death of his wife. The guy complained that most of the women he had met were “in it for the money”, but he was looking for a companion. He lives in Utah, and does not want to go back to the LDS church (for which I can’t blame him). He asked for suggestions, and many people were quick to offer them. One woman even piped up with a post about how she is also looking for companionship with a man. She invited him to look her up on a popular dating site to see if they are compatible. He shot her suggestion down, because I guess he didn’t want to go through the rigamarole of joining a dating site. I can see that view… although he might want to consider the extra challenges that face women.

Actually, when I think about how and where I found Bill, I am extremely relieved and grateful that he turned out to be so awesome. It definitely could have turned out badly for both of us. But fortunately, the stars aligned somehow… we were both honest with each other, and we just fit so well, even if I can’t really tell most people how, and specifically where, we met. That site is now defunct, anyway.

One of my friends expressed admiration for Bill’s ability to make me happy. He wrote that he “gets in trouble” almost every day. When I asked him what his wife would do if he spontaneously brought her flowers, he wrote that he would probably bring home the “wrong” ones. I couldn’t help but feel a little sad and surprised by that comment. I don’t know anything at all about my friend’s wife or their relationship, but his off the cuff quip reminded me of an old story I posted about in this blog regarding Ex. I truly hope he can’t relate to this anecdote, but I’m going to share the story, anyway.

The short version is, one day, Bill and Ex were traveling in the car– probably PCSing or something. They pulled into a gas station to get some gas, and Ex wanted a soda. So, after filling up the car, Bill went into the gas station and bought his ex wife a plastic bottle of Dr. Pepper. When he handed it to her, she immediately got very upset. Why? Because it wasn’t a fountain drink. Ex claimed that if Bill had really loved her and cared about her feelings, he would know that she prefers fountain drinks with ice in them to bottled ones. The rest of the road trip was spoiled by the heavy cloak of resentment that hung over them as they sat in the car, fuming at each other over the wrong soda.

This seemingly insignificant event in their marriage turned into a huge row, that Bill still occasionally talks about years later. It wasn’t so much about the soda, and the fact that Bill brought her a bottle instead of a fountain drink. It was about Ex’s constant need to test him, and to find ways to criticize him for anything and everything. It was her way of trying to stay in charge by turning on her rage machine and forcing Bill to be on the defensive. That kind of behavior, which she frequently indulged, was crazymaking. He never knew what would set her off.

For years, Bill excused Ex’s inconsiderate and ungrateful responses to his efforts to please her, because he wasn’t sure what would happen if they divorced. He couldn’t stand the idea of being estranged from his kids– including his ex stepson and his two daughters. They were incompatible and unhappy, and their marriage was full of these kinds of unfortunate and unpleasant interactions. She would not have been happy with a bouquet of grocery store roses. She probably would have preferred tulips or hydrangeas or something… or she would have scoffed at him for buying them in the grocery store instead of having them sent by a florist. Ex frequently used songs and children’s stories as object lessons, supposedly to inform Bill on how he should be and what would please her. But nothing he did was ever enough. She didn’t appreciate any of his efforts. In fact, she seemed to resent them.

Anyway, the rest of the story is pretty well laid out here. They did eventually split up, and things were pretty hard for awhile. But then Bill and I met, and the the rest is well documented history. After nineteen years, I do appreciate what he does for me. I can’t imagine not appreciating that he bought me a soda or a small bouquet of roses. It means he thought of me in a positive way. Why wouldn’t I be pleased?

Now, I will admit being a little less appreciative when he once brought me a bouquet of almost dead flowers that he bought at the Class VI store, especially since he could have picked a fresh bouquet from a field on the side of the road for a lot less money. Germany has fields of flowers where people can pick whatever flowers they want, and pay for on their honor at an unmanned cash box. But when I pointed that out to him, instead of getting angry that I wasn’t “grateful”, he brought me my next spontaneous bouquet from one of those fields! They were beautiful, and very patriotic looking– red, white, and blue!

But even when Bill has brought me half dead flowers, I still really appreciated the thought and care that went behind that gesture. I think small, thoughtful, and kind gestures like that one are what helps keep relationships alive. It’s a shame that sometimes those gestures go unacknowledged. Most of us are way too critical, especially of people who are closest to us. I like to think of myself as Bill’s staunchest ally. I don’t want to tear him down. And, in return, he has my back and is the one person I know I can turn to when I’m in need. It’s comforting to have that in my life, and I’m happy that I can offer that, in return, to Bill.

I’m still always so glad to see him when he comes home. I still miss him when he has to work late or go on trips for work. He’s truly my best friend. And it was so nice to be remembered last night, even after he’d worked so many hours and just wanted to come home and put on comfortable clothes and eat finger foods… I feel very fortunate we found each other, and I hope Bill does, too.

It’s nice to be remembered in such a kind way.
On another note… lately, I am really relating to this song. Leave it to James Taylor to have the best “Karen” story.

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dogs, emergencies, home

I went all Granny T last night…

Last night, I was sitting in the dark living room, working on the latest jigsaw puzzle. Suddenly, I heard Bill, and he sounded concerned.

“Arran, come here. You can’t have that nut!” he said.

Arran, who celebrated his ninth anniversary as our devoted family member yesterday, came running into the living room. He was clearly in distress. Bill was grabbing him around the stomach. It looked almost like Arran was choking on something, but I could tell he was breathing.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“He’s got a walnut in his mouth.” Bill said. Apparently, Arran had found an unshelled nut somewhere mysterious, broke it open with his teeth, and half of it was stuck on a molar. The other half, thank God, was in his bed. Walnuts are not really safe foods for dogs for a number of reasons.

“Oh my God!” I said.

Next thing I knew, my fingers were in Arran’s mouth, feeling around for the nut, which I thought was already halfway down his gullet. Vision of his sudden death flashed in my head as my fingers came out of his mouth, unsuccessful. I noticed splotches of blood on his right front paw, which he’d been using to frantically paw at his mouth, trying to get the walnut out.

I reached into his mouth again, determined to get the nut. I felt it stuck on his tooth. Somehow, I managed to grasp it and pull it out. It was all bloody, having cut the fragile gum tissue.

For a few minutes, all three of us were shellshocked by the sudden emergency. Bill had tears in his eyes as he comforted Arran, who was still scared and bewildered. I suddenly had a vision of my grandmother, Granny Tolley, who had a history of saving the day whenever one of her descendants got in trouble. I remember stories of Granny grabbing hatchets to kill snakes or break kids out of locked bathrooms. Granny died in July 2007, about six weeks shy of her 101st birthday. She was a tough lady.

After a few minutes, we were all a bit calmer, and Arran was back to sniffing the kitchen floor, hoping to find something edible that was dropped. He was perfectly fine within twenty minutes or so, but Bill and I were still a little bit shook up. Arran is about 13 years old, and it looks like he will be the dog who will have the longest tenure with us.

Our dog, Zane, died just a couple of months before what would have been his tenth “gotcha day” anniversary with us. But we got Zane when he was younger, and he had more health problems than Arran has ever had. Zane was a ray of sunshine, but he was fragile, suffering allergies and three years of mast cell tumors before finally succumbing to lymphoma.

I don’t think Arran was in any danger of dying last night, as the walnut wasn’t lodged in his windpipe or throat. But it was definitely a scary situation. I was kind of pleased with myself for jumping in and helping him out. As for how Arran got the walnut, I don’t know… I think he might have found it in the backyard. We lost a tree last weekend, and it’s still lying in the backyard, waiting for better weather and “processing”. I think the tree’s fall has unearthed some stuff.

As for Noyzi… he missed the entire drama. He usually hangs out in his bed upstairs in the evenings, except when we’re eating. Even then, he shows up fashionably late, sometimes even after we’ve already finished eating. He goes outside, does a few frenetic poop runs, tends to business, drinks a shitload of water, then puts himself to bed. Lately, Noyzi has had some pretty disgusting diarrhea, so that’s been fun… especially with the muddy backyard. I’ve been giving him pumpkin to help bind his poop.

As I write this, both dogs have come into the office, begging for attention and a walk. It’s cloudy outside and I’m a little depressed. I’m tempted to stay in my cocoon… but I guess it would do us all good to take a walk and get some air. Maybe it will motivate me to do my much hated Thursday chore of vacuuming, and pick up my guitar for some practice.

Last week, I was inspired to record my version of “Will You Love Me Tomorrow.” It turned out nicely, although it doesn’t have many hits. On that video, I used a lot of pictures of my dogs, who keep me sane. I noticed the YouTube guy I’ve been doing collaborations with did a version of the same song a few hours ago. I guess he was inspired.

Sometimes I feel like my dogs are my only real friends. I’m sure glad Bill and I were able to dislodge that walnut before Arran got really hurt. I’d like to keep Arran around for as long as possible. He’s such a sweet, loving, gentle dog, and he shows us every day how much he loves us. We love him right back.

If I get inspired to write again, maybe I’ll be back… but I’m feeling a little depressed today. It might be a day for reading and napping.

ETA: I just vacuumed the house, and when I went downstairs to put the vacuum away, Arran had managed to pull a small bag of treats off the counter and was trying to suck them down. Fortunately, he wasn’t successful. I guess he’s fine. Good thing these dogs are so loving and cute.

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funny stories, home

Repost: Unexpected search results…

Hello folks. It’s a cold, drizzly Sunday here in Germany. Bill and I talked more about the Duggar situation over breakfast. There’s a lot more I could write about it… and maybe I will later. However, it does occur to me that some people are tired of reading and hearing about the Duggars, and frankly, I am a little tired of writing about them, too. So here’s a quirky repost from January 2019. I wrote it just before I felt forced to shut down my old blog.

Zane (RIP) and Arran enjoying the futon when it was new, and didn’t smell like ass.

Something interesting happened the other day.  I was sitting on our yucky futon and noticed that it has kind of a nasty smell.  I also noticed that it was so uncomfortable that it made my butt go numb.  Looking at the futon, I realized that it’s served its purpose and needs to be re-homed or trashed.   That gave me the idea to search for a new couch.

We bought the futon in August 2014, when we first moved back to Germany.  I didn’t actually want a futon, but we were moving into our old house and had no furniture for several days.  I didn’t want to sleep on air mattresses because I usually end up with Charley horses.  Also, the box we sent our air mattresses in was delayed by the post office and we didn’t want to buy new ones.  The futon was just big enough for Bill and me to sleep semi comfortably.  Add the two dogs, who insisted on joining us, and it was definitely not so good.  But then our regular furniture came and we were able to use the futon in our old TV/office as more of a “couch” for TV watching.  It wasn’t perfect, but it served a function.

I figured we’d be moving back to the States after Stuttgart and decided I’d throw it out when the time came to move.  But then we moved to Wiesbaden.  We brought the futon with us, and now I want to trash it again.  One of the spokes broke when I sat down on it too hard.  The dogs regularly sleep on it and one puked all over the mattress.  It was impossible to get it very clean, so now the mattress and pillows faintly smell kind of like ass… or maybe the musty, ripe cheese smell that comes from an infection.  It definitely doesn’t make me want to use the TV room.

I went on Amazon.de to look for “couches”.  I entered the search term into the box.  Amazon.de usually translates English terms into German.  Sure enough, I got most of the expected results.  I started seeing the sofas I hoped to see.  And then I noticed something very different.

About two-thirds of the way down the second page, there was a very realistic picture of a dildo.  It appeared to be a French product and had veins, wrinkly “skin”, and everything.  The seller promised free delivery and, at less than 27 euros, it was a bargain.

I was rather surprised by that result.  I mentioned it to a German friend.  She happened to have studied French and explained that in French, the word “les couches” refers to layers.  Since I used the term “couch”, I guess Amazon.de figured I was looking for layers.  And this sex toy has double layers of silicone, which I guess doubles your pleasure.

I never studied French, so this was news to me.  To tell you the truth, as dirty as my mind can be, I don’t actually like looking at those kinds of… uh… playthings.  Especially when they’re very realistic looking.  The one pictured did NOT look like a toy.  It was kind of moist looking and someone’s hands were wrapped around it.  I guess I can now see why some people ban Amazon from computers where small children might be lurking.

I was reminded of another incident from years ago.  I was stalking a messageboard for fundamentalist women who wanted to buy “modest clothing”.  One of the women who posted referred users to this Web site.  She also warned people to be careful when searching for “culottes”, since that might bring pornographic results.  Another referred readers to this site (I removed the link in 2021, because the site is now defunct), where you can order handmade culottes that set the “right” Biblical example. 

It’s funny that Americans think of culottes as a very modest piece of clothing, but in France, culottes are underwear.  Consequently, if you search for culottes, it’s possible that you will find underwear when you really want an ugly pair of short pants that look like a skirt. Come to think of it, I used to have to wear culottes as part of my uniform when I worked at Busch Gardens Europe. I hated them, because they were ugly and gave me wedgies, plus they had a button and zip in the back, which made going to the bathroom more of a challenge.

One time, I actually made a pair of culottes.  I wasn’t even forced to make them, either.  I thought they looked “cool”.  I was in eighth grade, taking home economics, and we had to use a pattern to make clothes.  For some reason, I liked the illustrated culottes that appeared on the Simplicity pattern.  I thought they were fashionable.  Dopey me, what did I know?  They didn’t even use a real photograph of a model on that pattern.

I selected really ugly teal fabric.  It was cheap, thin, and tacky.  I remember buying it at AAFES, back in the days when they sold fabric.  It was awful stuff because it wrinkled super easily.  I made the culottes, but they looked terrible, with sloppy, irregular seams and constant rumples.  I got a “C” on my project; although, believe it or not, I did wear the ugly culottes around the house for awhile.  I was thirteen, and didn’t have any sense.

The following year, I made a tank style jumpsuit with pastel polka dotted fabric.  That time, I chose better fabric that didn’t wrinkle and I did a better job making the garment.  I actually wore it to school a few times.  It got an “A”, although now I kind of cringe at the idea of wearing it.  What the hell… I was fourteen.  I hate sewing, though, and that was the last time I made any clothes.

I’m actually pretty crappy at anything involving clothes or fashion.  When I was in college, I was a member of a music fraternity and I really struggled at making my Greek letters with puff paint.  I’m too much of a slob to do it properly.  My mom and my maternal grandmother were great at needle crafts, sewing, fashion, and anything involving looking like a lady.  I didn’t inherit those genes.

Anyway… I am hoping soon we can replace the futon and get a nice couch so we can enjoy our TV room and I won’t be tempted to lie in bed to watch all of those iTunes TV shows that are preventing me from updating my Apple apps.  But no, at this point, I don’t need any sex toys that I found while searching for couches.  Why is it that French words often end up translating to sexy stuff, anyway?

First world problems are such bitches.

Almost three years after I wrote this post, I still don’t have a couch for our TV room. I still want to get one. I just need to find one we can get up the stairs by ourselves and will fit through the door. I just searched Amazon.de and got many results for couches… and none for dildos. I guess they finally fixed their algorithms for English speakers.

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