Category: Stream of Consciousness

It’s Not Syrup, It’s Motor Oil

Like with all of my hyperfixations, I dove into keto whole hog, and Adam’s complete willingness to try it with me has made the transition so much easier, although he got over the sugar cravings faster than I did, and lost 30 pounds in the first week. Getting rid of carbs is no small feat, and the price gouging is infuriating. I know this isn’t a new thing, but it is new to me, and extreme inflation and sole financial responsibility just exacerbate the fact. Here, all-purpose white flour is $2.24 for a 5-pound bag. Everyone knows how versatile flour is. Almond flour, which is recommended for a lot of recipes, is $9.84 for a 2-pound bag. It doesn’t taste very good since it tastes overwhelmingly like almonds, at least in keto bread, so I found Carbquik (like Bisquick. Get it?), which is $12.38 for a 2-pound bag. The price difference between “real” cane sugar and sugar substitutes is just as bad, if not worse. All pantry essentials go the same way. Then, everyone wonders why the US is so obese. When you can buy 1 or 2 pounds of pasta for $1 or a 14-ounce can of “fake” pasta made from hearts of palm for $9.84, which item are you going to choose? For the record, hearts of palm is edible but not the greatest, and I much prefer zoodles (spiralized zucchini). Right now, zucchini is over $1 each, and spaghetti squash is $7+.

I bought Recipe Keeper a while back to transfer Mom’s handwritten recipes, church and work cookbooks into, and I absolutely love it, even though I think there should be a pink option. It has the neatest features, including one where you copy an online recipe’s site address and paste it into the app’s address bar and it imports all the information automatically in the correct sections and includes the address so you can revisit the site. It can also scan pictures of recipes in cookbooks and is just an awesome app, aside from not being pink. I think I had a point with this but I can’t remember what it was. Stick with me and it may come back.

Oh, yeah…While searching for recipes online, I started thinking how everyday food influencers (yeah? no?) are getting just as bad as large companies and social media influencers in terms of aesthetics. You don’t get a list of ingredients and directions like recipes of old. Now, there are pictures with more color than Gone with the Wind, pristine backdrops, Mason jars with ribbons, and more stage presence than Elton John.

My food pictures include the time I made 10 quarts of loaded baked potato soup and tipped it all over my new stove, and the other time I made ranch dressing and turned the mixer on without holding onto the bowl, spirographing dressing over half of the kitchen. The ranch was cleanupable, but my poor souped stove never fully recovered 😒. I shall demonstrate below because I just made some beef jerky today and took a picture.

Above is my freshly made beef jerky in a Rubbermaid bowl that has seen better days and seems to have some rough edges around the top, probably from being put in the microwave for too long and too many times. It’s sitting on my desk, which is still part wood color and part black because I got tired of painting it and moved on to the bathroom an embarrassing amount of weeks ago. To top it off, I took the picture in terrible lighting and it’s all grainy. The jerky, however, looks good and tastes great.

Click on the picture for the recipe.

Then, there is this dude with the smooth-looking jerky, and they literally tied it all up in a neat little bow on a table that is one intended color. Extra points for knowing how to do that focus thing for the object closest to the lens while everything behind it is pleasantly blurred.

Of course, it’s not just food, but beverages, too! Most impressive are the smoothies with multiple pictures including fruit that never saw the inside of a Walmart. The gorgeous royal purple smoothie below is the expectation, with the reality (at least my reality) coming out more of a muddy eggplant, and a sink full of dirty measuring containers and mixing utensils.

Click on the picture for more pictures and the recipe.

To go one further, the madness extends past food and drink and into family member territory. Feast your eyes on the Angelina Jolie of cats below. Coby comes complete with permanent eyeliner (and noseliner!) and eyes so blue that one wouldn’t believe them to be real if they didn’t belong to a feline. His photos are exquisitely flawless with him always the focus, and deservedly so. Even the “candids” are shots you wouldn’t think twice about making into a calendar! I admit, I’m a little (lot) bit in love with Coby, but what cat lover wouldn’t be?

Click for Coby’s Instagram account.

And then we have my very own Theodore Corduroy. I mean, what more can I say?

I mainly jest, but, honestly, who has the patience, skill, time, and money to churn out commercial-worthy pictures and videos of food during/after spending the time actually making the food and ensuring it’s Getty-ready? More importantly, why do these sites, pictures, and videos make me feel so inadequate?

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I’m a Hooker with a Heart of Gold

My mom used to crochet. My aunt was the arts and crafts gal, but Mom dabbled. Like any kid, I wanted to do what she was doing and, boy, did she try to teach me! Having a right-hander teach a left-hander something isn’t the easiest!

First, Mom had the brilliant idea to have me watch her crochet in the mirror. That didn’t work. Then, she had me watch her crochet for a few minutes and told me to do what she did backward. Nah, that didn’t work, either. So I said screw it and dug through her yarn books until I found a crochet book with a (very short) chapter on left-handed crocheting, with pictures!

My “project” was a pale yellow tie. It wasn’t meant to be a tie; it was supposed to be a scarf, but dropping and adding stitches is something I’m really good at without even trying. I quickly lost interest in crocheting. Knitting went the same way.

Now, in my 30s, I find crocheting to be very relaxing. I picked it up again after a Bob’s Burgers episode, along with knitting, but knitting takes too much of my focus and is aggravating for me. I had all kinds of ideas in mind for crocheting!

I was going to make hats, gloves, scarves, mittens, cardigans, animals, Baby Yoda, couches for the cats, and so much more! Then I looked up some patterns. Did you know knitters and crocheters have their own language?! It’s true, and it’s super confusing, especially for someone like me.

My dream was to make a too-big cardigan like the one Demi Moore’s character in Ghost made. It looks so comfy and warm! But that wasn’t happening since I couldn’t read and understand the patterns. Of course, something as menial as instructions and directions has never deterred me, so I came up with my own “pattern.”

My wonderful husband came home with 6 crochet hooks (I totally want these!) because he didn’t know what size I needed or wanted, and I set to work. I made the back of the cardigan, then most of the front using a slightly bigger hook, then bell sleeves with the biggest hook. My plan was to “sew” it together when I was done. Then I ran out of yarn with about three inches to go on the last front panel. It was very upsetting because my bell sleeves were awesome! *Sigh*

To make a very long story short, I have crocheted and unraveled about ten cardigans. As I said, crocheting is very relaxing for me, and I have anxiety, so I don’t mind all the undoing. I have about six balls of pink yarn of various sizes around the house and a completed cardigan. Until I unravel it and start over again.

Maybe I’ll wait until winter comes and goes before undoing it. Maybe I’ll buy more yarn. Who knows? Amazon has great deals on their yarn (my favorite brand is Red Heart Super Saver, like this one in Cherry Red) and there are so many available colors.  Hobii has some super cute yarn for cheap, too. I love the Space Walk and Outer Space yarn they have.

Update

I ended up buying four skeins of Outer Space Hobii yarn. It’s gorgeous, but as thin as thread! I guess I need to pay more attention to weights and such. Now I’m stuck with yarn I can’t work with because it’s too thin. It’s ideal for knitting socks; however, I don’t know how to knit socks. It may come in handy someday. Hobii sent a piece of cherry candy with their order and it was SO good! If I ever figure out the Magic Circle, I may even attempt to make a turtle someday, or a hot pad.

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Worry About Yourself; I’ve Got Everything Else Covered

Nitpicky. Controlling. OCD. Fussy. Particular. Unreasonable. High maintenance. These are some of the words that have been used to describe me. That’s fair, for the most part. I don’t have OCD. I’m not high maintenance, unless one counts the limitations from my disorders and illnesses. All the other descriptors are the result of being undiagnosed well into adulthood and trying to cope and maintain some semblance of control in my life and situations.

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If I get too stressed over something, I immediately start cleaning and straightening items. Adam usually tries to stop me so he can comfort me, but the comfort comes from organizing. Order is something I can physically control and, frankly, keeps me from dealing with overwhelming emotions, which is something I don’t know how to do or even if I’m capable, especially pertaining to sadness, anger, and stress. Keeping things just so helps keep my world calmer, and if I neglect that, it causes stress, which has been affecting me physically more and more.

My current hyperfixation is books. Logic dictates, in my opinion, since hyperfixation (“special interests”) is an autism thing, being AuDHD mucks that up into fixating on something for a length of time, then switching to something else with the same passion and intensity. Mom tried to keep up with my fixations, so I’ve acquired books, pandas, unicorns, and tigers, to name a few, over the years. I have a pink dancing turtle and a talking Squirt from Finding Nemo from my cute turtles phase. With Adam, I’ve obsessed over Bob’s Burgers, Taylor Swift, Pon & Zi, music, crypto, magic mushrooms, and on.

For reasons unknown to me, I decided to try Apple Books/iBooks instead of the Kindle app and discovered I like Apple Books better, so I was going to transfer my 500+ books from Amazon to Apple. Well, I couldn’t. When you buy an e-book on Amazon, you don’t own that book, unlike buying paper- and hardback books. Amazon is essentially a paid library for digital media, like Vudu and other digital goods companies. If Amazon got a bug up their butt and deleted my account, like they have in the recent past, my books would be gone and I certainly wouldn’t be reimbursed. This didn’t sit well with me, and being told I could not do something, specifically that I could not own something I paid for, only fueled my little AuDHD PDA self.

For the past few days, I have spent hours downloading my books onto the computer, converting them into .epub files, backing them up on my external hard drive, and transferring copies to my phone via iTunes. This went well for most of the books, but a few were totally messed up, and of course those are the ones my brain focuses on and bothers me incessantly about. I remove all of them from the phone, fix the metadata and covers for each one on Calibre, and send them back to my phone. A few more are corrected, but there are still some problems. I Yahoogle for help, as does Adam since this is really upsetting me, and I try everything we find.

The same thing happens. All the authors are listed first name, last name in the app, but alphabetically sorted by the last name, which is correct. Except for two authors. One is listed last name, first name and his 23 books are split somehow. For the other, her initials are MZ and she is sorted under M instead of Z, although her name is in the correct order (FN, LN).

Very funny, Apple.

After being miserable for the past week and not getting the results that I wanted, I’m standing at the bed hugging Adam and venting about the apps, and my sweet, amazing, well-meaning husband tells me I should not worry about it because it’s just a small thing. Now, I love this man to pieces, and I know I shouldn’t stress and fret over something so small, but it’s not by choice. I don’t do this because I’m bored or want attention or I’m desperate for some internal drama and turmoil in my life. I can’t help it. I tried to “deal” with Hurricane MIL and nearly had a mental break from that.

On top of my ever-changing, fleeting interests, my lifelong solid obsession is English/language. I’m average in every other subject and above-average in language, which was included in my psych/autism assessment, but I’ve known that since I was little. I was always in gifted reading/English classes, and that was my highest-scoring subject on my ACTs. I had this terrible-paying general transcription job once, and the company’s policy was to type what was said, of course, but that included spelling words how the dictator spelled them if they happened to spell them out, including medications. Most people don’t know how to spell medications correctly because the spelling and formatting can get pretty crazy. I always spelled the drugs correctly and was ready to defend my choice to the death if necessary. I was with one company where this doctor would always say “gamipectin” and proceed to spell it: G-A-B-A-P-E-N-T-I-N. Gabapentin was the correct medication, so I don’t know where in the heck she came up with gamipectin. I correct emails when replying to them. I correct FB posts if I’m reposting. I quickly stopped reading No Country for Old Men because Cormac McCarthy refuses to use quotations when people are speaking, which could very well be a sign of the devil. That really stinks because I loved that movie and figure his books are pretty good.

I have no idea where I’ve been or am going with any of this post. I applaud your dedication (boredom?) if you have made it this far 😊👍.

Adam made me modified tequila (what we called it growing up). Eh, maybe “barebones tequila” would be more accurate; zucchini, meat sauce, and lots of mozzarella cheese 😋. I think ground chuck is more expensive than ground beef because the farmers and butchers have a hard time finding boy cows who are named Chuck. Adam said that’s a possibility but never gave a definitive answer.

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My Breakdown Led to a Breakthrough

I finally got around to asking my husband to go to his brother’s for a week, and it went as expected. He got upset and tried to spend one day ignoring me so he wouldn’t bother me, but that was awkward and annoying. Things came to a head when I decided to do something that I had been asking him to do for months, which pissed me off because I don’t ask him to do much since I’m pretty stubborn and determined when I make up my mind to do something and I work at it tirelessly before admitting defeat. He decided to go to his sister’s since his brother lives a couple of hours away and his sister is about five minutes away.

Best. Thing. Ever.

For the first time in years, I had the house to myself. No annoying phone noises. No disgusting smell of way-too-strong coffee. Nothing being put away wherever. It was bliss. I work worked. I house worked. I got hurt a few times, which is totally okay to me, although I could have gone without getting both hands full of broken fiberglass. My body started relaxing, so I wasn’t in constant pain like I had been for months. I could get deep breaths. Obviously, I don’t handle stress well. My husband came by and took the week’s trash out but I was sleeping. We talked daily via text, and since I have issues communicating how I feel and what I want or need, I invited him to read my blog, which he did.

I think he finally started to understand what I’ve been going through and how stressed I have been. He told his mom not to do the dishes anymore, and he changed her phone settings so it’s not making a noise for every notification. I sent him some autism websites, one focusing on meltdowns, which he found informative and helpful. Most of the time, I can’t/won’t talk to him about my ASD issues (symptoms?) and struggles without feeling extreme shame and embarrassment and major impostor syndrome.

Somewhere in the midst of my week of solitude, I decided to begin the keto diet, and I want to convert Mom’s closet into a sensory room. I am excited about both projects, although I am having a bit of trouble with each of them. More on those two topics later!

“I Want to be Left Alone”

Like Greta Garbo, I’m quite content to be left alone. I’ve never been one to seek out attention, though sometimes I would be affectionate with Mom, and I will go to my husband for a hug occasionally, but I’m good being left to my own devices for the most part. Of course, “my own devices” include my phone and/or computer, and I would probably go crazy without some connection to the outside world or something to stimulate my brain.

I am a loner, but that wasn’t always an option growing up. I grew up in a very close family, and we would spend most weekends at my maternal grandparents’. At least 4 out of 5 of “the children” (my mom, aunts, and uncle) and their spouses would be there with their children (“the grandchildren,”) which included my brother, me, and our seven cousins.

I’m the second youngest, but when everyone was outside playing, I preferred to be inside with the adults. If the adults wanted to talk about grownup things or play card games I had no interest in, I would retreat to one of the bedrooms and read or write, or roller-skate in the basement. “She just likes being alone” was uttered often by Mom. Mom was asked a lot of questions regarding me. I wasn’t diagnosed AuDHD until after she passed, so was often described as being a loner and “backward.” Ah, the ’90s.

I need to learn how to shorten my backstories! All of the above brings me to today’s topic. My husband is outgoing and pretty clingy. Him taking care of Mom and staying in the hospital with her screwed up his lungs to the point of him not being able to work. He also has schizoaffective disorder. He’s here 24/7.

MIL came here in 2021 after having part of her foot removed and she is here 24/7 as well. She doesn’t have a vehicle. Mechanic broke Mom’s car, so we don’t have a car. We are all here, together, 24/7/365. I have no alone time.

Okay, now I’m done with the backstory. I’ve been cleaning out Mom’s walk-in closet, and I decided I want to make it a “me” space for…whatever. I’m working on Mom’s bathroom and making it a relaxing space for me, but that only lasts for however long I’m in the shower because, realistically, what else is there to do in the bathroom? I can’t stay in the shower or tub all the time because I’d get all pruny and run up the water bill, which has already gone up due to inflation and having 3 people in the home. I’ve actually been looking for a huge beanbag couch/chair to put in/over the garden tub so I could sit in there and read, but they are hard to find unless I spent $200 for one.

My first idea was to move my computer, desk, and TV/monitor into the closet and work in there, but my husband doesn’t think I would like that and would soon change my mind and move everything back out (which I probably would, in time), as I’m known to do that. Now, I’m thinking of doing a built-in bench seat with some pillows or cushions, and I would really love a beanbag chair since I’ve always wanted one and never got one. I haven’t decided if I’m going to try to add an outlet in the closet or just get another surge protector with multiple outlets and a longer cord to put in there. I kind of want to add an outlet to see if I can do it. Admittedly, that kind of thinking is how a lot of my big oopsies start out 😒.

Not to sound like a bad mom, but I’m looking forward to being able to shut the door when the cats are overwhelming me. You’d think small, cute animals wouldn’t get on my nerves, but just a few days ago, I was preparing to give Phin some shrimp, which he loves, and I had four cats on the dining room table walking around and smelling everything. It was extremely frustrating because only Phin and Piper will eat shrimp, yet four of five just had to know what I had and re-confirm that they didn’t like it. I was pretty cranky after that.

I used to have to hide in my room from my sweet, dearly departed tuxedo cat, Sprinkles Ricardo Blah-Blah, whenever Mom bought me beef jerky because he adored it and would eat it all up from me if I let him. That stuff’s expensive, and it is one of my favorite snacks. Sprinkles would come running whenever he heard the thick plastic bag rustle, even when Mom would sneak it to me!