Specialty Tupperware

A recent tweet thread of mine:

Like I said, it was from the dollar store, super bendy and wasn't all that great. It wasn't my good one.* But still. It's the principle of it. 

*which now I definitely won't bring in

Seriously. YOU. DON'T. TAKE. SOMEONE'S. SPECIALTY. TUPPERWARE.

Color Scheme

My friends bought a thing, aka a new house, so they're selling their old one. To actually sell the old house they have to repaint the entire place gray because people would rather buy that than their meticulously-thought-out-color-schemed-by-actual-designers one. Because people like to think they are creative and original when 80% of people's favorite color is blue and they're just going to put in whatever's trendy (and ultimately dated) anyway. 

  

Whatever. While discussing this with my girlfriends I suggested the color "Monterrey Bisque" because: "it's beige as fuck." My mom painted the entire house that due to her lack of imagination (which she admits) and is afraid of color which I can prove because she told me the neutral tiles I suggested for the back splash had "too much color." 🙄 

Anyway. We came up with our own designer-educated-suburban-color-pallet. Including: 

"Beige as Fuck" 

"Fuckit. Just paint it white"

"Suburban Sunkiss" (pale yellow)  

"Just a bit of green for pizzazz"

Happy painting!

Thanksgiving Play, Act 2, Scene 3

Since we've been in North Carolina, dr soc and I have hosted Thanksgiving. Neither one of us really has the time from work and now with Little Turkey's birthday, hosting has been what works best for us. We know what works as far as the food, guests sleeping arrangements and things to do, so the weekend runs well, is a lot of fun and we look forward to it.  
But in the issue of full disclosure: it did not start that way. It started like this:

--SCENE SET UP--   

I cook. Dr soc cleans kitchen behind me, including stuff still being used. I use another spoon/dish/pan since I can't find anything. Dr soc washes new dirtied item. We continue to get in each other's way throughout the day. Tempers shorten at 1:1 ratio of missing:dirty items.

--BEGIN SCENE--

me: (pour olive oil in pan. decide to forgo whatever meal that was. look for clear space and place pan on top of drying rack to left of the sink)
dr soc: (sees pan with liquid. grab dish towel. start wiping oil)
me: (blurt across kitchen) Oh no honey! That's not water, that's olive oil!
dr soc: (exasperated) Then why was it on the clean side?
me: (completely frazzled. look at dr soc)
dr soc: (eyes widen. throw up hands) Sorry! I'm sorry! (backs out of kitchen-fearful) 

--the next hour--

dr soc: (slink* into the kitchen to clean)
me: (see slinking. screech) I'm not done! (flail hands) Still using that! (strangled incoherent gargle) 
dr soc: (leave kitchen)

(repeat 2-3 more times at random intervals throughout flurry of holiday activity)
--END SCENE--

At the time it was just ridiculous but now it's one of my favorite memories and I crack up whenever I tell it (seriously I'm giggling hard core right now). But needless to say, we've gotten a lot better.

*this is very hard to do with an open plan like we have

It's What I Do

For the longest time dr soc wanted a bench for shoe storage in our foyer-ish area for the 4 times a year people use the front door, and for the longest time I resisted. But with 16 people coming for Thanksgiving I finally acquiesced to it, but since I can be very particular when it comes to furniture, it was on me to find one we both liked.
So I found one on Amazon I liked and two days later (love Prime) it was on our doorstep. Dr soc assembled it, we put it in place and...it didn't look right.
Dr soc was indifferent on it but I liked it just enough to think about keeping it. So dr soc found another spot for it in the house because he loves me. But that spot made me indifferent on the bench. And then this conversation happened:

me: I'm fine with where that bench is. But you know that it's just going to become another spot I put stuff* on and clutter.
dr soc: But you don't have to put stuff there...
me: Yeah but I will. It's what I do.
dr soc: Yeah but you don't ...
me: It's what I do.
dr soc::sigh of resignation:: Can we send the bench back?
me: Yes. (once again, love Prime)
dr soc: Ok. Do it.

* he loves me decidedly less when the sprawl gets extra sprawly.

Orphan socks

The other day I was folding several loads of laundry and I had no, I repeat, NO orphan socks. Every single pair had a buddy.
Major life achievement unlocked!

Skill Set

So my niece is growing up so fast and no sooner that she mastered crawling, she figured out how to pull herself up on anything she can, walks along furniture, and pushes things around to use as a walker! She's also screaming just to scream, babbling just to babble and melts my heart when she blows kisses through the aunt machine (ipad).  Wasn't she just born, like 2 days ago?

She also has figured out how to take everything out of her toy basket. She's really good at that. What she hasn't quite mastered yet, is how to put things back into the toy basket. But honestly, she may never really master that skill. Because truth be told, putting things back is not a strong skill for the women in my family. If Birdie takes after her mom and aunt (and she already looks like me as a baby so she's off to a good start), she's going to be a great sprawler.

think it through

dr soc (on facebook): I'd be all about a moat if we didn't have to worry about snakes.........or the HOA. 
me (on fbk): Actually per our hoa, as long as the moat is within a 3' radius of the perimeter of the house, we can landscape how we see fit. The snakes though....I got nothing.
facebook friend: Snakes are why you have outdoor cats.
me (in head): Outdoor cats* are feral and disgusting creatures. No fcking way. 
me (on fbk): Nope, per the hoa, no outdoor animals either.

Anyway. I was reiterating this conversation at work to my coworker who is just fabulous. She and I have similar thought processes so when I mentioned I had no idea how to get rid of the snakes (which she is also terrified of), her response was:

coworker: That's what the alligators are for! Duh!
me: Of course! Clearly you have thought this though!
coworker: Well, kinda. I had this conversation with my kids when they were little, and they gave me the alligator solution when they wanted a moat for our yard.  
me: Your kids are a little brilliant. 

*Indoor cats aren't my cup of tea either, but in my defense I am allergic to them. I'm not going to hold it against someone for having them and I take the good behind the counter allergy pills when vising feline homes. But as far as me ever owning on? No fcking way.  

Take Out Part 2

Back in July we gave our kitchen a facelift by changing the counter top color and putting in a tile back splash. I posted pictures of my "new" kitchen here, but we knew we weren't done quite yet.
We painted. We put "art" up, on the walls and on top of the cabinets. I made curtains! (major craft points for me!) And though you can't see this part I put new shelf pins in most of the cabinets so I can easily change the shelves heights and use my cupboards much more efficiently. (expect the Tupperware cabinet, the bane of every organizers existence. I hate my Tupperware cabinet). All those changes were a pretty big task combined, so we figured we were done with the kitchen for the moment.

Except.

I got it in my head that I wanted a new kitchen table. Well, ok, not exactly. I started pushing/really looking for a new kitchen table set is what really happened. See, for most of my adult life. I've wanted a real, vintage Formica kitchen table set. The kind that was built in the 1950's and made to last. But dr soc didn't see the need to get a new table set since we had a perfectly functional one already, he thought a retro table wouldn't really go with our old red kitchen, and he likes things new shiny (except his wife, that he has to like even old and busted), so vintage isn't his ideal look. But we were going for a somewhat retro look in the kitchen facelift, so now a retro table look wasn't a look out of left field for him. Plus, I knew we would have to change the counter top height table to a standard size table once we have kids.

Because a counter-top height table requires higher chairs, and if my kids are anything like me not only will they want to climb* things, they will also want to jump off said things and/or fall off said things. And that's long way for a little kid to fall, plus having to help them get in and out of a chair every. single. time they need to sit at the table is going to get really old, really fast.  And we can't use the higher chairs with any other table in our house.

So...it really was only natural that we get a new kitchen table set that we were totally planing on getting anyway at some point and one to match our pretty new kitchen! So I give you:

Our Christmas present to ourselves!

 

Also pictured**: the curtains I made and some of the aforementioned "art."

*Still do.  And squeal "and I go WEEEEE!!!!!" while leaping.
** not pictured: me giggling and clapping and squealing with absolute delight over how much I love this table.

Sign of the Times

When I woke up yesterday morning, the left side of my neck and shoulder were really bothering me. My run the day before hadn't been the easiest, but it was just this one spot and the rest of me didn't hurt, I figured I had just slept on it wrong and that it would work itself out on it's own as the day progressed.

Except, it didn't.

Later in the afternoon my shoulder/neck was still bothering me and I didn't have my full range of motion, despite using a heating pad and taking an ibuprofen.  And then I remembered. I am 31, and things hurt for longer now. It's still bothering me this morning too actually. Sigh, to be the nubile young thing that could wrench her shoulder out of its socket and to be able to brush it of as nothing like in my days of yore. (ok, that never happened, that sounds incredibly painful no matter what age, but you get my point.) There will be no more "work itself out 'on it's own'," and even the working it out part requires some assistance.

Take Out

We have been eating a LOT of takeout the past month. I haven't been able to really cook that much in there the past 2 1/2 weeks, because it looked like this:

FYI: this is the cleanest my counter tops will ever be

Seriously, they will never have nothing on them ever again. It's scientifically impossible for me to not put something on them

Ok, my kitchen's looks actually have nothing to do with why I couldn't cook. But we did this:

Rustoleum counter top transformations- mid transformation

To make our counter tops look like this:

Look how shiny!

and we couldn't really use the counter tops for a week while the top epoxy coat dried. It was fully set for full use just in time to add the pretty tile back splash I've been wanting to do since before I moved to Charlotte:

It has a real 1950's retro* look we both like

So now my kitchen looks like THIS!!

new colored counter tops AND a shiny new back splash?!

Look how pretty! And see? I told you it's impossible to not put things on my counter tops.

I can't wait to cook again in my "new" kitchen! 

*This may be a way to sell hubby on a retro Formica dining set, something I've always liked but he was never too keen on the idea. But when you have a retro style tile, he can feel the retro table set... Now to just find one that isn't a thousand million dollars....

Feivel Goes West

Fourth of July we decided to be patriotic and grill like all the other houses in our neighborhood were doing. Mike went outside to preheat the grill as I was prepping everything, when he comes back inside to tell me:

mike: Well, I cannot light the grill right now because, and this is something I never thought I would say. Actually, just guess, do you have any idea?
me: Is something wrong with the grill? I mean, other than that I can't think of anything else.
mike: No, the grill's fine. I cannot light it because --pause for dramatic effect-- I just saw a mouse run in there.

--I stare at him to make sure he's not just making shit up. Then I realize that's way too oddly specific to be made up, and I don't think he's that good of an on the spot story teller so if he didn't want to grill he would just say so. So there really is a mouse in my his grill. Ewww.--

me: Ewww! You're right though that is something I never would have eve imagined either. Now what do we do?

I call upon my trusty sidekick (to the internets!) and turns out that mice in grills are not super uncommon because it's a dry place they can nest. I want to start cooking, but neither one of us is willing to just turn on the flames and risk essence of mouse. And we want to disinfect the hell out that thing and all it's parts too before either one of us feels comfortable putting any sort of food on there. So Mike is taking the pieces out and I'm just about to pour the vinegar/water/soap mixture (an internets concoction) all over the grill when the mouse runs out and across the concrete slab the builder thought was an acceptable thing to call a a patio* and disappears into the grass.

Startled, I scream bloody murder. Due in part because OMG I have just seen a MOUSE run out of my grill!!! And also omg I just saw a mouse run out of my his grill across my patio over there and I'm not wearing shoes.**

So now Mike is on his own to take care of all the man things outside, clean and disinfect the grill, and laugh at his wife who flew into the kitchen and is currently jumping and flapping around in wayward circles still freaking the fck out. Needless to say, I made dinner in the over that night. And wore my rain boots that go up to my knees the next time I went outside.  

*it's not
**What can I say, I grew up in Kentucky.***
***Nope. No brothers.****
****EWWWW!!!!!

40,000 Questions

Our house is less than 3 years old and it has no character. Which I guess if I hadn't sold my soul to design school and gone through hell I wouldn't really even know that, let alone care. But I did go to interior design school. So I do care that my house has no character.

So I have ideas. (Mainly fueled by pintrest. I need to stop looking at pintrest.) Nothing huge or a complete renovations. Just little things to make the house a little less...half-assed "designed" and a little more I actually live here.  Like putting hardware on the kitchen cabinets, framing the bathroom mirrors for a more done look, covering the concrete slab "patio," coat hooks were we have no coat closet, and hanging a lamp in a spot that desperately needs it. Stuff that takes some, but not a whole lot of planning, but is totally DIY.  

Except. Not everyone is a diy kind of person. So for every idea that I have, there are 40,000 questions accompanied by 40,000 hesitations. So diy becomes BFD to the point that it's just not worth it to me anymore. So all those ideas, even the little ones that flit by and make me happy at the possibility, become this disappointment the moment they become impossible tasks.  If I could just stop having ideas in the first place, I could just stop being so disheartened by them not happening. I wouldn't be reduced to tears over something as innocuous as plugging in a lamp. And I wouldn't be stuck with a pretty lamp shade I'll never get to use as a reminder either. 

But at least the whole house is painted now. Even though I get majorly annoyed over picking paint colors in general and picking a color is a bfd and I gave a rat's ass about the timeline, at least my characterless house has color. It's not really a consolation prize, but I'll try to take it as a win. 

Sometimes I really hate that I went to design school.

Painted Into a Corner

Home improvement, my train of thought/ideas: install wainscoting, add tile, frame something, put up shelves, rip out a pointless counter, move the shower fixtures, remove the stupid tiny shower and turn it into a closet, the possibilities are endless! Oh, and I guess pick a paint color. Ugh (I hate picking out paint colors).
Home improvement, husband's train of thought/ideas: paint.

Well, husband is practically chomping at the bit to paint the upstairs/loft/2nd family room since it's the last area of the house to be painted. And this is turning into a much harder process than it needs to be somehow.

One part is that I can't decide on a color/look feel in general. I get an idea then change it. Gray one day, yellow the next. Then I gravitate towards orange. Then I want gray and orange. Then I want dark blue instead of orange, but only if it's gray and dark blue. Dark purple and gray. Back to yellow, and I want yellow and gray. Or yellow and dark purple. So on and so forth, and when I look at the paint samples I can't find what I imagined/want. Granted, I can't decide what I want in the first place, but I know what I have in front of me isn't it.

Another part of that is the two of us like different color schemes in general. I'm continuously drawn to deep jewel tones, rich saturated colors that are warm and inviting, and red and yellow based colors in general. I love color and I'm not afraid to use it  So I'm at one end of the paint aisle pulling paint chips of yellow and rose based neutrals, warm soft grays, and bright pops of color. And husband is continuously drawn to the muted dusty blues greens and tans at the other end of the paint aisle.

Another difficulty is he wants things to match, but at the same time he doesn't want everything to be the same either. Which, I'm not really sure what that is. I think it's more coordination and flow he's concerned over and not so much "matching." But I don't think my design concepts make sense to him so he continuously refers to that as matching. So my solution for things to "match" is a neutral overall with an accent wall (or walls). Yeah, that same accent that we can't agree on. And a neutral that he wants to match the neutral downstairs but is different enough from the existing builders' white but not too different so that it stands out either. Which...once again, I'm not really sure what that is.

How did picking a paint color become so complicated? Pretty much the only thing I'm sure of right now is that I still seriously hate picking out paint colors.

*Edited to add- May 11 2013 *
Yesterday we found a blue that was bright enough for me to like, and a light warm brown neutral that matches enough that he likes. We got some samples, liked what we saw on the wall and bought 4 gallons to finish up the house. Oh thank god! 

Home Improvements

So as a way of trying to distract myself from the factory of sadness stress and woe that is my life, I want to do something. (Or take a trip to escape for a while. But that involves time and extra money, two things that are lacking so not going to happen.) So by "something," I mean I want to make improvements and add character to my suburbia hoa-nazi regulated house. And I actually have the mindset and skills to do this due to my half degree in interior design. I can visualize and imagine and figure out how things will look and make it work.

Part of the not doing anything (but paint) is that I can't decide what I actually want to do. Yellow walls? Red walls? Subway tile? Pressed tin back splash? Bead board? With dark brown walls? Subway tile? Glass tile? Glass subway tile? With yellow walls? So. Many. Options. But one thing I've been wanting to do is since moving to Charlotte is have a kitchen back splash. So the other day we went to Home Depot and Lowes to see if they had any tile that we liked, and their selection is pretty limited. Once again, see: half degree in interior design. So I know that what they have on the shelves is not even remotely close to a wide tile selection. So to get the look that I'm thinking (for the moment), we'll probably have to special order. At the very least I need a sample just so I can get a better idea of what I'm dealing with. Which is fine.

My husband however, did not go to design school and lacks the skill to visualize a space and the skill of seeing a small sample (or picture. Or drawing. Seriously, I sketched an area of our house to get a basic idea of where I wanted a color and he couldn't visualize it. And this has nothing to do with my drawing skills either.) and figuring out how it will look in a larger scale. But that's ok because not everyone has that particular skill and if they did then there would be no need for designers in the first place. And I know that if he sees all the options he'll get really overwhelmed  just quit. (Which is why with wedding planning I did a lot of research on my own he had no idea about and then would present him with 3-4 choices.) In theory he's fine with going along with my ideas, he even likes most of them. But not before he asks a lot of questions in trying to do something outside his skill set. (Research, his skill set. Diy, my skill set) And he's very hesitant to do anything to the house without knowing what the finished product will look like and that he's sure he'll like it. Because you really don't want to redo something, I get it. But he can't really visualize something so he won't know if he'll like it until he sees the finished project...

At this rate and with the amount of extra money we have it looks like I'm not distracting myself with too much home improvement either. Sigh. Maybe I'll just read a book.

Some Rules Are Meant to be Broken

I don't pretend to have a green thumb, but I thought about trying my hand at a small little vegetable garden this spring. Just a little 3'x6' raised bed garden to grow peppers and a few herbs, and maybe a zucchini plant if I'm feeling particularly daring. Just so I don't have to spend a small fortune on fresh produce all the time (basil is expensive yo!).  I looked at a few gardening websites, learned the basic how-to's, and mentioned the idea to Mike. He was down for it. But then, recalling how bitchy the HOA was about the position our non-existent basketball hoop, he figured we should check the guidelines of the neighborhood just in case.

Section 2.12 Additional landscaping:
"Additional landscaping must be approved in writing by the MC (management company) using the application of exterior modification prior to the change unless it is within a 3 foot radius on the home. Gardens are not permitted."

However, I can totally have a trampoline as long as I apply for the application of exterior modification and place it in the center rear of the back yard. Which I learned from section 2.2 Backyard Play Equipment, Trampolines and Basketball Goals (the same place with the rules we so blatantly ignored with our non existent basketball hoop).

I'm so mad at the ridiculousness of it all I could spit. I can't have a small garden to grow food, but I can have a death trap (albeit, a super fun one) as long as I get the right papers in? I mean, really? WTF? Of course, now that I can't have one I want one really bad if only to piss the HOA off. I can do this one of several ways.

1. Carry on with my original plan which was to build and plant the thing, and see how long it takes to get another nasty-gram. (If they are going to send another nasty-gram we better as hell deserve it this time.)
2. Plant the garden along the entire back side of my house but only extend it 2'-9" from the house as to not violate the 3' radius clause. Of course, shade from the house isn't optimal for growing, but it's for the principle of it!
3. Painstakingly detail the garden plans to the point of absurdity (for example: will be so many feet by feet, which is so many centimeters by centimeters and will be placed x feet and y centimeters from the house, top soil consisting of 10% this, 20% that and 70% so-and-so will raise no higher than 24" off the ground, etc.) Then apply for the exterior modification permit and have them approve the ridiculous. 
4. Plant everything in flower pots and containers and cover my entire yard with those. Just don't move more than 2 to the front yard if they are dead. No ugly and/or dead plants in the front yard per hoa orders.
5. Or, forget the garden and just bitch.

Options 2, 3 and 4 are more work that I intend to actually do. Option 1 is a viable possibility because I don't think any neighbors would actually complain over a vegetable garden, especially if we give them some of the results from it. And we could always go with a mea culpa and apply for the exterior modification after the nasty-gram. But it will more than likely be option 5, because it's just a small garden. But that doesn't make the situation any less ridiculous and me less bitchy about it.

At Auntie's House

Last Saturday my good friends from college stopped by on thier way home from thier family vaction at the beach. I was really excited to see them becasue they had never seen my house, but I also hadn't seen thier kids (in person) in over a year since their little dude's baptism when he was 3 months old and thier daughter was almost 2 and a half.  So lots of stuff had changed, except that the kids are just too adorable for words.

Anyway, we were showing them the house and we were looking for a spot for the three year old to maybe take a rest later. At some point the three year old, a crazy dog and I were sitting on the daybed we have in one of our rooms. I'm holding crazy dog back a little so she won't spazz the child off the bed, and N discovers that the day bed is a really good bouncy bed.

So there's N bouncing on the bed, her curls flying around and she says excitedly: this is a really good bouncing bed!
me: I bet you can't do that in your house can you?
N: No!
me: Ok. 

--And let her continue bouncing. Becasue I am an awesome auntie--

That is one smart cookie. She totally knew her limits in that she can't bounce on the bed at her house, but it's cool at my place.  Then later when both of them were upstairs and my husband went to check on them, she and her brother/partner in crime were bouncing again, having a great time.*

Fun times!

*We really didn't care. We probaly won't let Sharktopus and Dinocroc bounce on the beds at home, but that's becasue of it's thier home and there are rules. But that's ok becasue they can always bounce on the beds at thier auntie's houses!

Casanova

Our next door neighbors (not the ones I hoped were related to the president. The other side) broke up the same time Mike and I were sending out our wedding invites. (Seriously, we were about to hand them theirs when the guy told us he was moving out.) Apparently it hadn't been working for a while, she's really focused on her career and has to travel a lot for it, but they are going to try to remain friends.  Sure. That's what they all say, until one person starts seeing someone else.  But they were together 5 years, probably weren't ready to throw in the towel completely, and every now and again we would see the guy's truck in the driveway. Mike or I (sometimes both) would notice and comment to each other, wondering if a reunion was possible. 

But one morning a while back as I was leaving for work, I noticed someone had left a bouquet of flowers on the windshield her work car. (When we see that car we know she's home since it's parked on the street or in her driveway.) And the flowers had been placed there after a bunch of people had been over, but none of those cars had been the guy neighbor's truck.  But we did notice one car in particular stayed longer than all of them.  And that it showed up again a few weeks later, and so did another bunch of flowers after it left. 

Hmmm. How intriguing. So now whenever Mike or I sees the Casanova car we point it out to the other and we are just downright curious of who this Casanova is. Speculating who it is, how they met, if truck neighbor knows and how he feels, or is he's Casanova-ing someone else too.

You know, it's kinda fun spying on the neighbors!

Smack talk

My neighbor had some friends over the weekend and they all brought their dogs over as well. Which, whatever, we have dogs, the neighbor has dogs and there's a fence to give boundaries and keep everyone with 4 legs and a wagging tail safe. 

When we let the dogs out after they ate, both Bailey and Jules ran to the fence to investigate the new people and dogs.  And Bailey's way of greeting (both dogs and humans) is a "bark head off first think later" approach.  Which riles up her sister, and now we have two spazztastic dogs who can't be distracted and won't come back to the house when called, even with the lure of tasty treats.   And two spazztastic dogs in full spazztastic mode can be somewhat dangerous because it has lead to fights and someone inevitably ends up hurt. So Mike and I navigate the minefield known as the backyard to pull the girls back from the fence and into the house.
So here we are, trying to get our dogs back under our control and we toss a hello to the people in that I would stop and talk to you but you can clearly see that I've got something else going on and you understand why we're not stopping to shoot the breeze sort of way.  When one of the guys sees that Mike is wearing a Browns T-shirt (which is the status quo here since that's 80% of his t-shirt collection), his way of greeting us over the barking and spazzing is to announce that he was going to invite us over to have a beer until he saw the Browns shirt.

Which, really? It's not that I don't get sports rivalries and that I've never teased someone based on their sports affection (case in point, my husband is a Browns fan, teasing is nothing knew here). But really, that's the way you say hello to people you haven't actually even met, sports ball busting? We don't know you, and he's a guest at our neighbors home with no real invite rights to begin with in the first place.

And while I know really nothing to get my panties in a twist about, I still thought that this guy using a sports jab in place of a hello made him an asshole.

HOA

The other day we received a violation letter from our HOA notifying us that our portable basketball hoop was in the wrong position, ie: the hoop must be perpendicular to the driveway and not facing the street.

Two things:
One: you're going to threaten to fine us for the wrong position of the moveable hoop?  Is a 90 degree turn really that egregious to warrant a fine?
And two, the much more pressing matter in my opinion: is that we don't have a basketball hoop.

Yeah.

Needless to say, my husband was none too pleased. So he called the company, wrote a letter and they called back saying "our bad" and the violation was erased and never happened.  But maybe as a good bussiness practice they should double check the address before they start slapping fines on people. Just saying.

Iron

me: Oh shoot, I wanted to wear these shorts today, but the crease is so bad in the cuffs that I have to iron them.
mike: You iron?
me ::scoffing:: No.
mike: Which means...
me ::sigh:: That more than likely I'll never wear them again. Too bad, I really like these shorts.

Yeah, I don't iron. Apparently we have one, but I have no idea where it is, nor do I have much intention of finding it, let alone using it.