Happy Halloween!

I love Halloween. My childhood is filled with memories of crazy parties, strange costumes, haunted houses and bags of candy. I went Trick or Treating right into my teen years, without a costume, and didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. 

My favorite Trick or Treat memory was hiking into the next neighborhood because through the kid-grapevine, rumor had it a house was giving away cans of Coke. The drink, not the drug. Jackpot! We were so excited. I remember being very young and the leader of our group was a much older sister of my friend. She was about twelve. Venturing into another neighborhood was like visiting another world. Scary. I trusted she would know the way to the Coke and would get us back safely. I remember walking forever, exhausted from heaving our already heavy bags of candy along. Our leader was determined. She kept stopping other kids along the way and asking them about the Coke.

"Oh, yeah, they are giving it away! The house is just over a few more blocks." And on we'd go determined to get there before the other kids took it all. The anticipating building. The excitement unbearable.

We got within a block of the house and heard they ran out. As an adult looking back, I'm pretty sure the people probably ran out of candy and started giving away the contents in their refrigerators. Those were the good days. As we got older we started hearing about people putting razor blades in candy or kids getting poisoned. That was the first indication as a child the world wasn't the safe place we assumed it to be.

I have one memory of a haunted house. I was fourteen years old. I went with my best friend Susan. It was a huge haunted house sponsored by the local radio station. I only remember the first room. It looked like a hospital with an operating table. There was a woman on the table all bloody asking us to help her. Susan wasn't very smart and naturally, she started talking to the woman saying in the sweetest voice with such honest worry I wondered if she were crazy or part of the production, "What is the matter? How can I help you?" Susan absentmindedly let go of my arm and started walking toward the woman. The whole time I'm frantically whispering and trying to hold her back, "Susan, stop that! What are you doing? Get back here." The Mad Scientist appeared behind us with a large, bloody butcher knife. Not only did I scream the sound of unimaginable torture, but I ran through the whole haunted house! Susan kept trying to grabbed my arm for fear I would leave her, and I did. I was running so fast my coat came off and I just kept running. I didn't stop until I reached the parking lot where I met up with Susan still holding my coat. That was my first and last haunted house. Well, other than the ones I worked at.

As an adult, I stopped Trick or Treating (thankfully!) and living in the city for most of my adult life, I didn't give out candy to kids. Answering the door to strangers at night never appealed to me. I'd go to a friend's house for a costume party and watch them give out candy.

When I moved to my village in the country the first few years I was surrounded by kids. It was fun to give out candy and see their adorable costumes. I was so excited I gave out full-size candy bars not the fun-size because I wanted to be that house everyone talked about. The twin boys from next door screamed, "THESE ARE THE BIG ONES!" They were so thrilled. The second year I gave out the miniature pumpkins I grew in my garden in addition to candy! Then the kids all moved away. The last one graduated from high school last year.

Now that I'm chemically sensitive, I still love Halloween, but it is problematic because:

I can't go to costume parties because of the smells.

I can't hand out candy because I might eat it. That last year handing out candy I downed no less than ten bite-sized Butterfingers. Who knows how much rat feces I ingested in just that one night!?

It's hard to justify giving junk food to children. Besides the cost, I feel guilty. I feel like I'm setting a bad example. Or I'm poisoning them. There isn't much kids appreciate for treats other than junk food. Maybe I'll grow some more miniature pumpkins? Those were a hit.

Opening your door to strangers means exposure to all kinds of unknown and unwanted chemicals. Heck, with all the crazy people in society, opening your door to strangers at night is just asking for trouble.

And around here, the torrents of rain discourage even the most devoted Trick or Treater.

But I love Halloween. It's an awesome holiday.

Bad Construction Karma = Me

Saint Barbara

I've come to accept my bad construction karma. It's just the way it is. Any project will cost me twice the amount of money as any other customer and there is something about me that makes men want to rip me off.  I have addressed most of my construction issues in my former post from July 2012 entitled, "I'd Rather Smell Like a Man."


I just need to process my latest bad experience now.


Why I have to hire construction workers:

1.)  I own a house. I'm seriously wondering why this is a good idea. I know with owning my own home I don't have to deal with stinky, stupid landlords and I have control over what happens, but at the same time, I never had to deal with construction before so I am now questioning if owning my own house is safer than renting? It's nonstop. Relentless. Get one thing done and another problem rears its ugly head demanding to be fixed. So is home ownership worth it? Wouldn't it be safer, less expensive, less stressful, and less toxic to rent and not be responsible for maintenance?

2.) If I just let the repairs go, my house will fall apart creating twice the problems which may also contribute to air space contamination and health issues.

3.) For a woman, I think I'm pretty strong, but I'm not as strong as a construction worker so it takes me twice as long to complete a project. If at all! Some things I cannot do because I can't lift it or move it. I watch men handle drills with one hand and drill a screw in seconds. It takes me holding the tool with two hands and using all my weight to push and often I STILL can't get the damn screw in the wood!

4.) I'm usually not as skilled or knowledgeable as a construction worker so I screw up more often so it takes me twice as long and twice as much money to complete a project.

5.) The chemicals they use for whatever they are doing are toxic and make me ill. Since they can usually complete a job in half the time, I'd rather they breathe the fumes instead of me.

6.) I don't have most of the tools and they are too expensive to buy or rent. Even the ones I could rent, many of them are too heavy to lift or move, let alone handle them!

7.) I want things fixed or improved to make my life easier and more enjoyable.

8.) I don't always have the energy or stamina to do physical labor, especially big projects.



The problem with hiring construction workers:

1.) Most of them stink of chemicals. Even if they say they don't, they do.

2.) Most of them are unprofessional, untrustworthy, and incompetent sleazeballs.

3.) Their sleaziness often costs me twice the money.

4.) Their incompetence costs me twice the time.

5.) The whole experience is more often than not very stressful.

5.) I can't concentrate when they are here working so this is a huge imposition on my time affecting my income.


Obviously my very good construction experience was followed by a very bad one and I am processing. Processing helps me not to seek revenge, and therefore, put myself in the line of fire. I've been shopping for a gun. Well, to clarify, this latest construction worker was a master manipulator and come to find out, a convicted felon. I was warned by the police not to mess with him. Great. I'm trying very hard to fly low and avoid being a target, but I'd really rather rip this smug, condescending, arrogant, ignorant slimeball a new asshole and report him to the powers than be. The Labor and Industries representative said if I report him for ruining my roof eaves with a lousy paint job they will fine him $1,000 for every address I can provide because he isn't a licensed contractor. I know of four addresses he's worked at. I can find more in this little town. Every time I see his truck out in front of a neighbor's house I wonder if he's pretended to know what he's doing with them, too. Yeah, I know. Out of all the people I hired or got quotes from this summer, he's the only one whose license I thought I checked but didn't. Damn. I've been bad mouthing his name all over town. If he shows up at my house unhappy with my anti-recommendations, I want to be armed. Besides, I'm American. Guns R Us.

But a gun isn't going to help me if he chooses to seek the ultimate revenge. What would the ultimate revenge be? What am I most afraid of? Perfume. Cologne. My greatest fear is if he completely understood the ramifications of perfume exposure and throws perfume on me or on my property. I find that so strange that is my greatest fear. Let him beat the crap out of me or shoot me with a gun, but perfume exposure scares the bejeebies out of me. I'm sure this is totally incomprehensible to the average, non-chemically sensitive. I'm hoping as sleazy as he is, he's also not real smart and he didn't register or understand the seriousness of my fragrance-free requests. One of his workers smelled like a toxic waste dump and I told him to get off my property.


So what to do? Continue to lay low or demand my money back and deal with whatever repercussions come flying my way?


I decided I needed some kind of divine intervention so I checked online to find out who is the patron saint of construction. Saint Barbara.

BARBARA?

BARBARA?

Wow.  I should have known. Barbara was the name of my evil babysitter. Barbara was the name of that ugly doll I hated and gave to my little brother in hopes he would tear her head off. (I named her after my evil babysitter.)  Barbara was the name of my wicked stepmother. I have bad Barbara karma, too.

I am so DOOMED...

"I'd Rather Smell Like a Man"

'Tis the season for home improvements, repairs, and general construction projects. There are a lot of things I can do around the house and I'm not one of those dainty things that's afraid to get her hands dirty, but there are some things I can't do. I'm not tall enough, strong enough, nor do I have the right tools most of the time. For instance, I can't hold a large, heavy power tool with a sharp spinning blade with one hand and a large, heavy piece of wood with the other. I can't carry a seven foot door nor can I chop up a large wooden slab of wood that's been used as a step to my shed for the last twenty years. I don't have a thirty-foot ladder to reach the top of my house. I can't even unscrew the hose that was screwed on tight by the last construction worker who was here five years ago. So this means I have to venture out of my fragrance-free environment and invite smelly people into my safe haven. Smelly men to be exact, because there aren't a whole lot of construction-worker women out there. Not something I look forward to....

Just getting quotes is a nightmare because once we've ascertained what I need done they can do, my second questions is, "Do you wear cologne?" Invariably they have no idea what I've asked. I'm not sure if it's because it's such a weird question out of left field their brain doesn't register it or if they just aren't listening to me. Or both. They often start babbling about something totally unrelated as I patiently try to make sense of what they are saying:

"Yes, I work alone and...."

"No, I charge standard prices, but...."

"I've done projects like that although...."

What did they think I asked? So I have to embarrass myself one more time and enunciate the question very clearly:

"DO YOU WEAR COLOGNE, PERFUME OR ANYTHING SCENTED????"

There are men who do wear cologne and because they want my money they will graciously assure me they will refrain from wearing it. Really? OK, so they won't bath in it that morning, but what about all that stink on their clothes? In their vehicle left over from the last perfume bath? The stink they can't smell because they are brain dead from toxic overexposure? I say, "Thanks, but no thanks."

There are men who claim they don't wear cologne but still arrive smelling like a toxic waste dump. It burns my sinuses and I have to ask them to leave or I don't notice it outside and when they come into my house I can faintly smell it as it pollutes my living space and have to spend hours air purify the rooms they entered. Sometimes this is deodorant, aftershave or laundry detergent and they have no clue this is also considered the anything scented I was referring to in the question.

There are men, however few, who don't smell at all. No cologne, no smelly deodorant, no aftershave, no laundry detergent. One told me when I ask the question, "Heck, no, I'd rather smell like a man." Hooray! You can stay!!! Sometimes I feel like I don't even care what they will charge or even if they know how to do construction work - I want to pay them just because they don't stink. I especially want to pay the men who understand the question so I don't have to repeat it again. That just screams smart to me.

The thought of hiring people for construction is extremely stressful besides worrying about being poisoned and having the ask the question. Can they do the job I need done? Are they competent at what they can do? Will they show up? Will they adjust the quote once they are here because they failed miserably at assessing the job in the first place? Will they blatantly try to rip me off because I am a single woman and they are male chauvinist pigs? These are situations I've experienced and I've found no matter how careful or conscientious I am, I get screwed. I think I have bad construction karma.


I haven't hired anyone for anything for about five years, and I was a little hesitant to start the process again. My neighbor suggested contacting a friend of hers and she called him for me. After quizzing him on the types of construction projects he was able to do, I asked the question. He started talking about something else, so I asked again. He said he didn't. No cologne. I invited him for a consultation and quote. Nope, no stink. He sounded really knowledgeable although he made it clear he wasn't licensed, it was to be work under the table, cash only and it needed to be done within the week because he had time off and was going back to work next week. He was cheap. He was fragrance-free. He said he would need to bring a friend to help on some of it which would make the job go faster. OK, make sure your friend is fragrance-free.

The job is postponed twice, first because I need time to find all the supplies he requested and another time because he was out of town for a prior commitment and returned too late. The whole time my brain is screaming at me CANCEL WHILE YOU CAN! I'm getting cold feet. Maybe he isn't as knowledgeable as he sounded? Maybe he'll do such a lousy job it will cost twice as much as the quote to fix it? He's unlicensed so hiring him is a huge liability. God, what was I thinking? I buy all the supplies anyway because it's been five years and I really need to get some of this stuff done. This is probably why I have bad construction karma - I'm so desperate to hire someone I ignore my instincts.

He shows up on time on the third scheduled day which is really rare in my experience so I take this as a good sign. His friend stinks of Axe deodorant. You ever smell that stench? I tell him he either needs to leave or he can wash it all off. He starts to try to negotiate about how he will stay away from me. NO, if you chose to stay on my property you will be fragrance-free. He opts to wash it all off since they drove an hour to get to my house and he does apologize explaining he normally wears unscented products. He doesn't stink after the wash and he brought an extra shirt. Thank god.

After that, everything worked out magnificently and I have to say I've never met such an outstanding carpenter nor have I seen such superb teamwork. Not only did they get my list of projects done in one day, the hourly total worked out to be less than the original quote. Watching them measure cedar shingles so they matched the existing wall pattern was pure art. Awesome.

The only mistake I made was giving the friend a towel to wash up with and I should have given him an old towel or rag I could throw away. The towel and the wash rag have been laundered four times and they still stink of Axe deodorant. I've had migraines, nausea and severe irritability for two days straight.

Now to get through dealing with the gutter repair guy...he's also fragrance-free, but he doesn't listen and because he doesn't listen he has already had to raise the quote which I don't appreciate. He claims I didn't tell him that. It's my fault, of course. And he thinks my name is "Lisa" although he's asked me several times. Hmmm. What is it about me that make men not want to listen to me?

If I get through this I'm done hiring construction workers for another five years!

Home Invasions

If you are anything like me, my home is my sanctuary and safe place. I've worked hard to make it a scent-free environment and I'm comforted by its own homey, familiar smells. 

Any foreign stink invader is usually readily identified as an intruder and cause for high alert.  Other than online shopping deliveries with perfume samples, here are other common home invasions I've experienced:

Visitors  Naturally, anyone wearing scented products is a problem. Friends, relatives, neighbors, salespeople, politicians, fair princesses, religious fanatics and trick-or-treaters. I have a sign on my porch that reads, "Fragrance-Free Zone. Poisons Not Allowed." Does anyone read it? NO. So I added another sign on my door window that went into great detail what fragrance-free means if they manage to by-pass the porch sign. Still, I'd get people knocking on the door.  I'd answer the door and they would move to the bottom of the porch steps, apologizing profusely but still managing to try to sell me whatever they felt I needed to buy.

Enemy Combatants

Finally, I put a sign on my gate that read, "NO TRESPASSING. KEEP OUT." Does that stop anyone? NO. Mormon boys march right through as if on a mission. Finally, I just locked the gate. Does that stop them? NO. I watched my neighbor slither her skinny little fingers through the fence posts trying to trigger the latch. In frustration I ran out there and yelled, "CAN'T ANYONE IN THIS TOWN READ?" Now when visitors can't figure out how to trigger the latch they knock on my kitchen window. There is no stopping them.  It's like a war zone.

Defensive Measures

Construction Workers, Repair People, Utility Workers, etc.  It's difficult when you need someone to come to your home to fix something. I always warn the person with whom I make the appointment that whoever shows up better not be wearing any kind of scented products or they won't be allowed on the property. This usually works. Sometimes it doesn't and they are asked to leave. Fragrance-free is a requirement if they want my money!

Construction Supplies  Paints, caulking, sealers, paint thinners, plywood, etc.  . If you can determine in advance what might stink and if there are green alternatives, this may help. If not, seal off the area, open a window, put the air purifier on high.

Call the bomb squad!

Gifts Friends used to mail me gifts saturated with their own perfume. I had one friend with whom I exchanged Christmas and birthday gifts for twenty-five years. As hard as I try, I could not get it through her head the reason her smelly gifts would end up out in the garage or in the garbage. She ended up refusing to talk to me, whining, "You don't like my perfume."



Magazine Subscriptions  Sorry! No more Vogue, Glamour, Cosmopolitan, O Magazine. Fashion magazines and most women's journals are OUT. I can't stand the perfume samples in them. Sometimes there are air freshener samples, too.  I miss them. Curling up with a fashion magazine was great entertainment. Even those in the library never offgas enough to be usable.



Library Materials This is a sneaky one. Perfumed people wipe their stinky, sweaty hands all over the books they read and then you check them out. Or the librarians putting lotion all over their hands and wiping it all over the books and videos. I might not notice the stink until it's in my car or at the very latest until I sit down on my couch with the book. It's then sealed it in a plastic bag and returned.



New Clothes If you shop department stores, new clothes will almost always have perfume on them from other shoppers or salespeople touching them and/or the fabric treatments used in manufacturing for fire retardation and mold inhibition. Straight from the shopping bag and into the washer!



Photocopies  Someone once sent me photocopies of documents bathed in perfume. Their temporary office girl did the copying. Didn't see that coming.

Neighbor Stink  If you are lucky enough to own property, there might be enough space between you and your neighbor to avoid toxic exposures. Unfortunately, my neighbors are too close and too stupid to be safe. During the spring and summer I watch all of them strap on those sprayer packs and spray down their lawns, walkways, and driveways with herbicides. We live right next to a river. I even wrote a brochure called "Save the Bees" on the ramifications of using toxic lawn chemicals and mailed it to everyone on my block. No one cared. Their lack of insight is jaw-dropping. Then there is laundry detergent, fabric sheets or dryer exhaust polluting the fresh air. Car exhaust is another issue. One morning both my neighbors warmed up their  gas-guzzling trucks at the same time for about an hour. It was like living on a freeway meridian. I lock myself in the house and pray for a good strong wind blowing in the opposite direction.

Of course, if you've ever been on the website www.neighborsfromhell.com you'll realize smell could be the least of your worries. Gun fire, homemade bombs, barking dogs, barking attack dogs, loud music, insane parties, drugs, theft and personal threats are cause for all kinds of worry. The world is full of ignorant sociopaths with entitlement issues.

Home, Sweet, Home....