Hal-isms, Vol. 60

"She's watching Traveling With Angels or Ten Wives in Atlanta."

"If I click there I'm liable to find pornographic content."

"You should be watchin' Blue Bloods. There's three things going on at once!"

"When you change things it changes things."

"I just wanna say to you that when we disagree...I still love you."

That's like 15 gallons

Sunday Favorites: Wait, You Can't Microwave Metal?

New to A Lady Reveals Nothing? You've missed SO MUCH. Not to worry. Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite. Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day. Enjoy! This story originally appeared when I was waiting tables in International Falls way back on July 24, 2010:




A couple nights a week I wait tables and bartend at a local resort lodge.  I used to think I was a smart cookie, back when I worked in an office cubicle.  But that's because we didn't have to know things like: 

1. It's not OK to pick up the 468 degree dishes out of the dishwasher with a towel, so as not to burn your hand. Unsanitary.
2. Bars close at 1AM. It's not OK to stay open after that, even if your customers insist.
3. People under 21 are not allowed to drink, and so you should really confirm people's age by asking to see their identification.
4. You really can't carry that much stuff in your arms or you're going to drop it in front of everybody.
1. It's easier to bring a tub and clear the table than it is to clear it one dish at a time.
5. You not only have to clock in when you get to work, you have to clock out when you're done.
6. Pork tenderloin comes with cream sauce, and if the cook forgets the sauce, you should remind him to put it on there because people notice missing sauce.
7. Don't walkie talkie the owner to come here, without telling him why.

See what I mean? Lots to know. Don't get me started on the use of the register.

Tonight, a table of two arrived before I was completely ready for them, and I noticed that the buns in the warmer were still frozen. WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO??? Oh right, we have a microwave. Crisis averted. The more experienced waitress told me to just throw the whole ziplock baggie (filled with six dinner rolls) into the microwave for like 20 seconds.  But, she didn't realize that I won't microwave plastic, and also I really only needed two rolls. So I took the bread basket, wrapped up the two necessary rolls in the cloth napkin that goes in the bread basket, and chucked the whole thing in the microwave and patted myself on the back for being so SMART. These buns would be ready to bring to the table when the 20 seconds were up.

As I stood there in front of the microwave, I rolled my eyes at the faulty equipment. Lights were flashing on and off inside. Sparking, almost. "Crappy microwave," I muttered under my breath. Then I saw a flame.  

And then it dawned on me. Apparently there is metal in the bread basket. I almost burned down the Lodge, folks.

This right here is a member of Mensa

The House, Vol. 9

Framing the upstairs went so quickly I couldn't believe it! Here it is from the back and side:

The House, Vol. 8

Here's me, in my new kitchen, under my new bedroom and the new second floor loft floor where there used to be no roof and before that it was a dining room: (got that?)

Minnesota March Moron

We have had some uncommonly warm weather here in Minnesota this month. I don't know how I got so lucky but we had a couple of weeks of t-shirt weather for my project.

My future bedroom

You know what? I couldn't wait. I had to sleep under the stars in my future bedroom. Here's me wakin' up at some ungodly hour because it was only nice and warm during the day apparently and I was f-f-f-f-f-f-f-reezing in March sleeping outside. But I did it!

The House, Vol. 7

...and then where there was no roof, we made a loft floor:

Douglas fir beams and joists

Beata, my hammer-wielding friend

I don't know why my brother-in-law trusts me to use power tools, but he does and so sometimes I'm air-nailing and sometimes I'm making cuts on a table cutter thingee. I cut all of these wall studs:

Just look at these perfect cuts! Forty studs, all precisely measured at 65 3/8" or something like that. I can't remember. The important thing is that day I did remember and I cut them and so technically I built this whole house by myself.

My future bedroom

Barn Door Slider

Here's the old pile of boards that were torn off from my old roof. Beata's going to help me repurpose them into a new barn door slider for my main-floor bathroom and also for paneling for my half-wall in the loft. 

Stay tuned on that project...

Example of a barn door slider. Stolen from Hgtv.com

Chewing Gum

The resort where we stayed in Cancun had a fancy Italian restaurant where we ate most nights. After a long day of reading books and doing nothing on the beach, we'd all head up to our rooms, shower and meet back downstairs for a delicious meal and drinks. There were eleven of us, and so we had to be split up at two tables.

We wore our best dresses and drank wine and were very, very fancy.

Look how fancy!

After dinner the first night, I stood up to go and chat with the other table. We discussed what they ate and how good it was. An older man who worked at the restaurant came up to me and grabbed my arm and dragged me back to the table where I was sitting, to the spot where I was eating. He seemed very agitated when he said to me, "PLEASE DO NOT PUT YOUR GUM UNDER THE TABLE CLOTH." 

The staff were changing out the linens and sure enough, at my spot, under the table cloth was a piece of gum.

YOU GUYS. It was NOT MINE.

We were eating fancy! I would never put my gum under the tablecloth! It was seriously way up underneath, so whoever did it had to pull up three yards of fabric and shove it up under there, on the pad underneath. 

I said, "Sir, that's not mine."

He poked it and said, "FRESH."

I poked it. 

It was fresh. 

But you guys!!! It was NOT. MINE. I repeated myself. "Sir, I am telling you that gum is NOT MINE."

He was so disgusted with me and so finally I just shrugged my shoulders and walked away.

Does this look like somebody who just shoved GUM under her fancy tablecloth?

The story doesn't end here, unfortunately.

The next night, I was nervous to go back there, but I decided to get over myself and just do it. I sat down and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the man. Out of the corner of my other eye, I noticed one of my friends putting her gum on a little plate next to her dinner plate. I didn't have any time to warn her.

Here comes the waiter (not the same man, but he came straight from talking to the man). He handed her a paper napkin and said, "please put your gum in this paper napkin. And anyone else at this table *here he looked STRAIGHT AT ME* needs to put their gum in a paper napkin right now."

ENOUGH!

I threw my cloth napkin down on the table and half stood up to say to that poor innocent waiter, "OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! I DID NOT PUT MY GUM IN THE TABLECLOTH! YOU TELL THAT MAN I DIDN'T DO IT! AND WILL YOU PLEASE ALSO TELL HIM I AM 37 YEARS OLD!!!!!"

He looked really hurt and said, "yes, I will tell him". 

And then he came back later to take our order and I said, "I'll have the seared tuna. With extra gum."

And then the poor innocent waiter said, "please. I am on your side."

And then I really felt bad. 

But for Pete's sake, can you imagine being accused of a heinous crime? Twice? When you were 100% innocent of it? Now I know how Cameron Todd Willingham felt.

New House, Vol. 6

...and then I came home from work one day and I had no roof!

The only thing left standing is the chimney and this toilet. Poor workers need a place to pee, after all:

New House, Vol. 5

Roof Tearoff. Can you see in this photo how bowed the back roof was?

I'm a Rebel Dottie, A Loner

They're doing some work on my building...and this dear folks, is the most rebellious thing I have ever done in my life:

More Mass-Textomy

Don't let the pink ribbon fool you.

Cancer

So my mom basically lives with me now. She's having her chemo at Abbott, which is only a mile away. Here's how much she loves me:

New House, Vol. 4

Now, why would I need a husband when all my friends already have one?

New House, Vol. 3

Me, having a Carol-Burnett-having-a-Gone-With-The-Wind-moment:

New House, Vol. 2

If you can try to match these up with yesterday's post - these are the corresponding 'during' photos to go with. They're not after photos by any means...

Kitchen (please note the ONLY insulation in the walls was this thin layer of tar paper):

Entryway (a different view, from the bedroom looking out the door (the pink cabinets are in the garage now):

Demolition of the plaster and lathe in the bathroom:

Bathroom:

View of the entrances to the tiny bedroom (now open to the entryway and the bathroom door):

Stay tuned!

New House

So I bought a house.

Why, you may ask? Why would I move from a SAFE 2nd floor walk-up apartment that I LOVE, that only costs me $800 a month in rent, that is in the PERFECT location in the best neighborhood in all of South Minneapolis?

Because I went to my mom's over Christmas break, watched a million back-to-back episodes of Property Brothers and Tiny House Nation and Rehab Addict that's why. That's why on a whim the very day that I got home I bought a 684 square foot fixer-upper. 

This week I'm just going to post photos of my house project. I haven't been writing much lately because if I'm not in Mexico or at my full-time job or caring for those who have cancer (my mom), I'm over at this house trying to be as helpful as a 5'2" woman with no experience in such things and a car-accident back can be. 

The back of the house:

Kitchen:

Front entryway:

Bathroom (please note the 4' clawfoot bathtub that had to be cut into the tile in the wall because the bathroom is only 3'9" wide):

From the living room through the dining room and into the kitchen:

From the dining room into the front bedroom and the bathroom:

Anyway, the house is great and could have been moved into as-is, but I decided that the roof was too saggy and needed to be replaced (see photo 1) and the layout of the house is inefficient and that I wanted to add an adorable 2nd floor loft and I had been watching all those shows, so here we are. 

Stay tuned...

Baffoon Bombs it on the Beach

In Cancun the water is pretty choppy and so in the swimming areas they have these great big giantic ropes so that if you start to get tired, or are swept out to sea you can grab onto one rather than trying to swim back to shore which won't work anyway and will probably kill you.

Anyway, one day I went for a run and happened upon a wedding just near a couple of the ropes. 

I jumped over the first one, turned toward the camera and threw my arms in the air in an attempt to photo-bomb a shot of the bride and groom.

Success! 

Hilarious!

BAM! 

...I forgot about the second rope and it got me right in the knees and I face planted in the sand. Hard.

That's whatcha get.

Great Mexican Road Trip

Well...not really. But I've never been to Belize. And so when all my friends went home yesterday from Cancun I rented a car and started driving. Belize is about five hours away and along the way I stopped and visited the ruins at Tulum and Coba. 

When I left the car rental shop, I rolled down the windows (manually, of course) to let the wind blow through my hair. The freedom! A single American blonde woman traveler just rented a car to drive around in it! Look everybody! Look at me!! 

Immediately on the right hand side of the road was a taco stand and I was starving. So I pulled over into a parking lot. This kind of stuff is fun for me because:

1) I love food

2) It forces me to speak in Spanish

3) It's a mini spontaneous and very safe adventure

4) I love food

So I ordered up two tacos and they fried them right there in front of me. I loaded up on the pico de gallo. "muy picante?" I asked, "medio" they said and then I asked "por Mexicanos...or por Noruegas?"and they laughed! They laughed at my joke! Everybody! Look at me!!

I paid them $1.75 and then stood there and ate the tacos with my new side-of-the-road-taco-stand friends like a real local person. 

I thanked them and went to get in my manual stick shift Mexican rental car.

Which I realized had one of those funny reverse situations.

You know, where you can't really just put the car in reverse? You have to perform a pushing motion on the stick and then move it. But that didn't work. I tried for several minutes, while all of my new side-of-the-road-taco-stand friends watched in confusion. ...But wasn't she a single American blonde woman traveler? Shouldn't she be able to put a car in reverse?

---

I rolled down my window again (manually, of course) and yelled: "POR FAVOR! AYUDAME!!" and one of my side-of-the-road-taco-stand friends came running over, reached across my dumbfounded face and pulled up on this silly lever and slipped 'er into reverse.

And then I drove away, the wind in my hair once again.

The Mexican Chevy Aveo: Man's most complicated car