Saturday, July 19, 2008
Spraying your entire body with Febreeze? Doesn't take the marijuana smell off you. It makes you smell like pot and Febreeze. Just so you know. Now, not that I have needed that info for my personal self, but a person we met recently really needs this advice. Of course, this is after my daughter had hers over several times to swim and play. DD was at their house for a short time before going for a bike ride but hasn't asked to go back because "their house smells funny and the dad sits on the couch in his underwear. And they both smoke in the house". And of course, she tells us this more than a week after she went there. My child needs to get quicker with the 411. So anyway. Sometimes there are things we want to tell people, but just can't for one reason or another. Like the other day, when a woman asked me to watch her toddler while she ran to the bathroom in a store. I didn't even have DD with me, and frankly, I looked a mess. I wanted to say "Excuse me, but I cannot watch your child because I am a STRANGER. A stranger that looks like a public health risk. A stranger that looks like she might have a mental illness (why ever else would she dress like that and leave the house with that hair and a knitted purse in 90 degree heat and 100% humidity?). This is not a good idea at all". Of course, I didn't say that because we all know I am not going to steal or hurt the child. Plus she walked away before I could even reply. Or the time I politely said it was okay when somebody bumped me with their cart in the grocery store. It was a hard hit, and really, I was pretty pissed off about it. It jarred my back, and if they had been paying more attention to where they were going instead of talking loudly on a cellphone AND rifling through stuff in the cart while moving, maybe it could have been avoided. It wasn't so much the bump that ticked me off, but the off-hand way the apology was muttered like it was annoying to have to say anything to the person they just rammed into a shelf. Wouldn't it be so freeing to walk up to that person wearing so much perfume you can taste it in the air, and say "YOU STINK. Wash off some of that perfume. You smell like a hooker". Or to the person who bypasses the line and walks right up to the counter and shouts an order that "even vultures are smart enough to wait their turn!"? When a co-worker asks if you "would mind" doing something for them that obviously is crap work or else they would do it themselves, to say that you really DO mind and don't have time to take a pee, let alone do their work for them. But we don't say these things (for the most part ROFL!). We smile politely and do what we are supposed to do as dictated by pleasant society. All the while thinking about what we WANT to say. Sometimes these thoughts are so contrary to my usual, outward self that it makes me laugh. I mean one of those startled snorting laughs when something is so outrageous laughing is about the only thing you can do. We were at the mall and a young man pushed down a senior and stole her shopping bag. There was a chase. He got tackled, and the good samaritan held him down until a secuity guard caught up to them and helped get him up. They were holding his arms tightly and he was fighting to get away, and was yelling and whining that they were holding his arms too tight and hurting him. What sprang into my mind? What brand of "serves you right" dances across my cerebral cortex at that moment? "Shut your piehole. Just be glad that guy doesn't snap your fucking neck like a twig". Of course, I didn't say it out loud. ;)
Monday, July 14, 2008
DD just made some blueberry muffins from a packaged mix. She and DH don't like real berries in their muffins. And I have to admit that for a long time, I didn't either. They were always too sour and too goopy. Now that I have learned to appreciate a muffin that is not as sweet as cake, I have learned to appreciate real fruit in them as well. I generally don't eat these muffins they make because they are basically sugar lumps with no nutritional value. But I have to admit, they sure do smell good. Almost as sweet smelling as candy floss, but frooty. LOLOL. Like boo-berry cereal! Remember that stuff? I wonder if they still make it any more. You can't get it here, but that doesn't mean they don't make it for another market. I must have PMS. I have been snappy lately, and when sweet things smell good to me you gotta know SOMETHING is going on. I've been craving chinese food too. Not the kind that I make that is good for you, but the gloppy deep fried, sauce covered stuff you get in a restaurant catering to non-asians. Sigh. My new job is going well. I like it, and I think I am catching on. I have learned a few lessons though. Such as, even a stranger that is nice to you and trains you for your new job will sell you up the river at a moments notice rather than admit a mistake. I could have repointed the finger back at her (with concrete proof), but instead I figured what was the point. It would just make me look defensive. I looked very serious, apologized for the error, and promised it would never happen again. And that is for sure, because I will never trust that person again. Check and double check! I've already had to lock her out of one file because she was making changes in there and causing me grief. It is my job now. You can wait for me to get out of the bathroom so I can do your request, don't touch the files lady! Other than that little glitch, working outside the home has not been the disaster I was expecting LOL. Traffic is pretty good back and forth, there haven't been too many curve balls as far as duties, and I haven't run out of work clothes yet. I am being beckoned to join my DH and DD in a subarctic swim. Since I am pale and puffy and with these hairy legs I could pass for a polar bear, I guess it is appropos. See ya!