You can get Cadbury chocolate in just about any store here, though. Are Cadbury products only available in specialty stores in the US?
Cadbury-branded products made by Hershey are available in pretty much every grocery and drug store in America, and not a few convenience stores.
Cadbury-branded products made by Cadbury are available in only a few stores that have really good “foreign products” aisles and stores that cater to the expat community, quite a few of which support online shopping. But they’re not widespread.
Hershey’s product is inferior, IMNSHO. Which is why I was upset to hear that I might not be able to get the Real Thing™ anymore.
And so the great snowstorm of ohmygod less than a foot of snow in Central Park has moved on. What a bunch of hype over very little!
Dammit! We were having fun at Great Wolf Lodge, Pocono. The Weather Channel and every local channel was screaming (crying Wolf - ha ha) about the storms we were going to get in the teeth. So, to save ourselves, we bolted early. We could have stayed and played for HOURS more. Or even stayed another day. #@&*^#*
What the fuck lady? Is there some reason why you think the “shoe free” policy in our childrens’ daycare classroom does not apply to you or your school age brat? I suppose maybe nobody told you about it but surely you must have noticed the sign on the door, how the other parents mysteriously remove their shoes whenever they enter or the shoelessness of the classroom workers. Perhaps you don’t feel comfortable removing your shoes? They have a giant bin of fucking shoe covers that you can use instead right next to the door! There is really no other conclusion that can be drawn here other then you are either an entitled asshole or oblivious idiot.
Why is it shoe free?
Oh, I vote for entitled asshole.
It’s an older infant classroom with the associated hand to floor then hand to mouth action.
Jesus Christ, how hard is it to abide by one simple rule? “No food/dishes in the bedrooms except for a bottle or glass of water, please.” That’s all.
Two weeks ago, I had to go in the room being used by our houseguests to get a comforter out of the closet, and there was a whole stack of dishes in there (including the spare mixing bowl for my stand mixer. WTF?) Houseguest the elder had a meltdown because I retrieved those dishes, returned them to the kitchen, and washed them. (I guess I violated privacy by getting my stuff out of a room in my house?) Today, I opened the door to nab a toy that rolled under while sweeping the hall, and half the fucking bowls, spoons, teacups, and glasses in the house are strewn all over the furniture and floor. (I’ve dropped hints that we need to gather up ALL of the dishes after dinner every night. I’m not trying to be a bitch, and I do understand that everyone needs some privacy, but holy fuck, how am I ever going to get rid of the bugs that came in with the guests’ luggage if there’s food everywhere?
Also, my husband is an idiot. We have an old, dog-chewed comforter that I use on top of our good comforter, because the dogs insist on sharing the bed. The old blanket is several years old, and queen-sized, because that’s the size bed we used to have. We upgraded to a king bed about five years ago. About twice a year, Tony argues with me that I’ve shrunk his favorite quilt, and that it used to be king-sized, and I have to prove to him (again) that we changed beds when we moved in 2009.
Lacunae Matata, you are a saint! How is it that you have not told these house guests that either they GTFO Now or else stop taking dishes into their room, since they cannot be trusted with them? Jeez. Are they planning to pay to have your house fumigated? (that’s a joke, of course)
I got stung by a bee at work yesterday. My fault, I didn’t look where I was putting my hands when I opened my trunk, but epi-pen and ambulance happened. Today I look like a chipmunk with both cheeks full of cheerios. I also have a nice big bruise on my arm from where one of the EMT guys jabbed me with a needle. I’m not mad at the guy who was trying to save my life, thank you EMT guy. I just don’t like looking like this and I sure don’t like the drug hangover.
Stoopid bees. Stoopid me.
I’m sorry you look and feel like shit, but glad you’re here to tell us about it.
Goddamn, Lacunae. I really don’t know how you do it. I can’t imagine not abiding by house rules when I’m a guest. Especially a long term no-rent guest, not a boarder paying my way. Seriously fuck that. Heard from the Princess lately?? At least you’ve always got interesting shit happening. I gotta say, though, I think it’s only interesting because it’s not at my house! Your friends and family better be grateful to have you.
Aha! One reason to give you for living northerly! No bees here for a good part of the year!
Glad you’re alive. Hope you’re staying home and taking care of yourself.
Eh, we had a little chat this evening - after dinner, it was the teenager’s turn to do dishes. I told Julie that she couldn’t have chocolate cake until she had retrieved and washed all of the dishes in her bedroom - very few things motivate a PMSing teen girl like homemade chocolate cake! 
It’s a little touchy, though: I don’t want to overstep and try to be her mother. I’m not Julie’s mom, her mom lives right here, and it would be awesome if her mom would give me a hand enforcing the rules.
But… that’s not how it’s working out. Mom is in far poorer health than she’s admitting, in my decidedly untrained opinion. We play along with the fiction that all of this is being done until R finishes school and can support herself and her daughter, but Tony and I privately agree that’s not likely. However, we can maybe reduce R’s stress, provide a little stability for her and Julie, help where we can.
As for the Princess, he has a class with his mom, so we hear occasional updates. He’s living with his dad for now, already in danger of failing his classes without my daughter tutoring him in middle school math, working at a donut shop. From what I understand, Dad is quite a volatile character, so I suspect that the living situation won’t last a long time. Who knows what happens next? (Except that he’s not welcome back here. Tony and I are both adamant about that. I don’t wish him ill, but I don’t like him, and won’t have him back here around my kids.)
(I need to come up with a good pseudonym for R - her name is too unusual for me to want to post it, and I don’t want to air her private business in any way that might create a connection IRL.)
flatlined, sorry about your battle scars, but I sure am glad you’re here to tell us about them!
How about LG for Longterm Guest?
And it’s your house, so you are allowed to enforce rules. You aren’t parenting LG’s girl, you are trying to keep your house and home running smoothly. Where they intersect your life, you are well within your rights to have a say in it.
You’re a good egg, for sure!
This. So much this. Your house, your rules. You are one hell of a strong woman, Lacunae - I don’t know how you do it.
I received an email this morning from an agency within my employer, so NOT the medical leave office. They received my PRIVATE FMLA paperwork - the docs that go into detail about my medical issus. It would be akin to sending your restaurant order to the dry cleaner. I adore my nephrologist - he is spectacular - but his office? Sucks monkey dicks.
You could come up here–any bee is encased in ice, buried under two thirds of a metre of snow…
I have a serious and embarrassing fear of flying, stinging insects and this was an awesome selling point for moving up north. (Nope, not allergic, just afraid.)
I have been feeling really rundown lately and I realized that I need to see my doctor. Unfortunately, when I feel this way, making phone calls feels like climbing a mountain in terms of nervousness. So I procrastinated and now I’ve run out of all of my medicine, including my thyroid medicine that costs $250 to refill (another reason I needed to see her). Why am I behaving this way. It’s so frustrating.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
I hate thieves.
Sorry for your bee inspired woes.
Here you go. Misery loves company.