A few days ago I went to the store to pick up some razors. I hate shopping for razors. It's stressful. There are so many kinds... with lotion strips or without? Do I want 2 blades or 4? Or, WAIT!! Do I need the 5 blade? Holy crap, they make a 6 blade razor now? Seriously? If I had that much hair on my legs that I needed SIX blades, I'm going to be waxing, thanks. And why are they so expensive? 10 bucks for a starter kit and then 16 bucks for 4 replacement heads? No thank you. I'll take my double blade, $4 for 6, cheap walmart brand razors. But those give me razor burn so I really do need to spend the 8 bucks on the triple blades w/ lotion strips. Now, do I want aloe lotion strips or "conditioning" lotion strips?? Oh. My. Goodness. I need a drink. I'm going to close my eyes and point and then get the heck out of here. Oh dang, I didn't want those!
Honestly, I can buy a stroller or even a car faster than I can buy razors. I finally ended up picking a pack and then I looked and there was a seemingly identical pack for $3 less. More stress. What was the difference? It took me a while but then I found the answer: Scented Handles. Seriously? Scented handles? For real? We need scented handles on our razors now? Why? Why on earth do we need scented handles on our razors? Is it to make us feel more at peace? More rested? Transport us away from the misery of shaving our legs, into a tropical paradise filled with cabana boys and pina coladas?
Is it not enough that we go on a virtual trip around the world with all of the other scented products we use in the shower? I personally start off with a shampoo that is supposed to uplift me a take me to a roadside fruit stand with the smell of summertime nectarines. Then I am taken away to Asia with my jasmine scented body soap. After that I take a fun little trip back to the produce stand with my "energizing citrus" shave gel, where at the same time, if I was using said scented handled razors, I would also be taken to the tropical shores of Hawaii with it's "fun, fresh scented handle" and THEN I get out of the shower, head on over to Mexico via my coconut and lime lotion... all while in a room already scented with a candle that is supposed to "ground me" with lavender and chamomile. And that's not to mention the 3 hair products, face soap, moisturizer, and deodorant that I have yet to use...
I guess I didn't realize I needed to get my passport and pop some malaria pills every time I stepped in the shower. So, not only do I get out of the shower smelling like a fruit salad with a hint of lime, now I also need a nap from the jet lag AND I'm going to have to pop a pill for the raging headache I have from all of the "aromatherapy", which is going to transport me somewhere else entirely, if you know what I mean. It's no wonder I'm all kinds of jacked up. It's no wonder all of us are all kinds of jacked up.
I can't help but wonder what the point is of all of this "aromatherapy"? The only thing that "energizes" me are a good cup of coffee or a hard workout. I'm not more grounded, I'm not more at peace and I certainly don't look like those chicks in all of the commercials advertising this crap. A handle on a razor or a bottle of shampoo isn't going to fix our problems.
Yes, it's harmless "fun" and smelling good is a definite plus. So what's the problem with something like scented handles on razors? I just don't see the point. Are we on such a quest to find a happy place that we actually buy into this? I think it's a gimmick, a tale of consumerism and waste, an annoyance and just one more thing thrown in your face, saying that you NEED this in order to have a better life. No people, no. Having a better life begins on the inside. No bottle of lotion is going to help you. A bottle of pills though...? Maybe.
And that has been "deep thoughts by Joanna". Tune in next week for, "why must children's toys be SO FREAKING LOUD?! and what it says about America today".
Showing posts with label randomness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label randomness. Show all posts
Friday, May 7, 2010
Monday, June 8, 2009
geek squad this!
Last night I was dorking around on the computer and the wireless internet went dead. Normally when this happens it is because it is windy out or the microwave has been on for awhile or it gets really hot. But it was 10:30 at night, no wind, no one was cooking and it was nice and the device was nice and cool. I went to check the settings and the computer told me that it couldn't find our preferred network, but it wanted to connect me to a different network named "Bruce's Network".
Now, this normally wouldn't make me think twice because I'm used to living in an area that has multiple networks you can steal bandwidth from. But we live in the middle of nowhere. When I say nowhere, I mean the closest neighbor to us nearly a mile away. There's no way we could be picking up anyone's connection, let alone have a full strength signal from them. No one here had messed with any of the settings... I don't think anyone here even knows how to mess with the settings, and there's certainly no "Bruce" here, so something weird was going on. I immediately unplugged the Airport (Mac speak for the wireless router thingamajig) and made my dad go look outside to see if there was some shady person in a car sitting outside our house, trying to jack our connection or hack into our network to get our info or something. Yes, I'm paranoid. He didn't see anyone and I didn't hear any cars and there weren't any signs of a person having been outside our house either. We decided to call it a night and deal with it in the morning.
This morning I woke up and plugged in the Airport, plugged in my computer and still, I was being told to connect to "Bruce's Network". Nope, not going to happen. I don't know who Bruce is or what he wants or where he came from. I called my brother, who is an unofficial Geek, and explained the situation and was informed of the obvious: "That's weird". Yeah, no duh. Thanks, Captain Obvious. So he and I went through all of the obvious steps to try to remedy the situation, but no matter what we did, Bruce wouldn't go away and our network wouldn't appear. After doing a hard reset of the device, we were finally able to get rid of Bruce and make our network appear. And then my brother said, "Wait, wasn't the guy who lived in that house before named Bruce?"
Yes, yes, his name was Bruce, and he died a year or 2 after my parents bought and gutted the house. As far as we know, he didn't ever have internet here. I can't believe that a dude who lived in a house with original 60's green shag carpet, orange counter tops and burlap curtains until the day he sold it would have internet, and wireless internet at that. I also can't believe that the electrical system that was in this house could even support a computer, but that is besides the point.
So unless someone sat outside our house last night, hacked into our wireless settings and changed it to be "Bruce's Network" and then drove off, all in the span of 3 minutes, Bruce is back to visit us. I don't know if he's mad about his house, or just wanted to come say hi, but he's made his presence known. I've lived with ghosts before, but they have never made their names known so this is new territory.
Last night was a full moon and the owls were going nuts all night and one still is even this afternoon, so I'm not sure if he's still hanging out, or if he left, but you can sure as heck bet that I'm going to be watching the kids very closely to see if they start talking to anyone or about anyone new in the house. And I might be sleeping with the kids, with the lights on, for the next couple of nights because the Airport is in my room and that's just a little too creepy, even for me.
Now, this normally wouldn't make me think twice because I'm used to living in an area that has multiple networks you can steal bandwidth from. But we live in the middle of nowhere. When I say nowhere, I mean the closest neighbor to us nearly a mile away. There's no way we could be picking up anyone's connection, let alone have a full strength signal from them. No one here had messed with any of the settings... I don't think anyone here even knows how to mess with the settings, and there's certainly no "Bruce" here, so something weird was going on. I immediately unplugged the Airport (Mac speak for the wireless router thingamajig) and made my dad go look outside to see if there was some shady person in a car sitting outside our house, trying to jack our connection or hack into our network to get our info or something. Yes, I'm paranoid. He didn't see anyone and I didn't hear any cars and there weren't any signs of a person having been outside our house either. We decided to call it a night and deal with it in the morning.
This morning I woke up and plugged in the Airport, plugged in my computer and still, I was being told to connect to "Bruce's Network". Nope, not going to happen. I don't know who Bruce is or what he wants or where he came from. I called my brother, who is an unofficial Geek, and explained the situation and was informed of the obvious: "That's weird". Yeah, no duh. Thanks, Captain Obvious. So he and I went through all of the obvious steps to try to remedy the situation, but no matter what we did, Bruce wouldn't go away and our network wouldn't appear. After doing a hard reset of the device, we were finally able to get rid of Bruce and make our network appear. And then my brother said, "Wait, wasn't the guy who lived in that house before named Bruce?"
Yes, yes, his name was Bruce, and he died a year or 2 after my parents bought and gutted the house. As far as we know, he didn't ever have internet here. I can't believe that a dude who lived in a house with original 60's green shag carpet, orange counter tops and burlap curtains until the day he sold it would have internet, and wireless internet at that. I also can't believe that the electrical system that was in this house could even support a computer, but that is besides the point.
So unless someone sat outside our house last night, hacked into our wireless settings and changed it to be "Bruce's Network" and then drove off, all in the span of 3 minutes, Bruce is back to visit us. I don't know if he's mad about his house, or just wanted to come say hi, but he's made his presence known. I've lived with ghosts before, but they have never made their names known so this is new territory.
Last night was a full moon and the owls were going nuts all night and one still is even this afternoon, so I'm not sure if he's still hanging out, or if he left, but you can sure as heck bet that I'm going to be watching the kids very closely to see if they start talking to anyone or about anyone new in the house. And I might be sleeping with the kids, with the lights on, for the next couple of nights because the Airport is in my room and that's just a little too creepy, even for me.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
psa for oprah's guests
I don't know why Oprah has moved to having her "guests" chat with her via Skype. Has she gone broke? Can she not afford to fly people to her show anymore? I mean, I understand being all "with the times" and stuff, but really? Skype?? It is so annoying to me and I personally can't stand it. The picture quality is horrible, the sound is bad... the only slightly redeeming thing about this new feature of the show is that it can be fun to look at what is in the rooms that the people decide to set up their camera in. People have some pretty weird stuff on their walls... Honestly though, Oprah, is it really necessary to inform us that, "Boaz is joining us today from his kitchen." Um, would there be a giant subzero fridge in any other room? Thanks for making this clear for me. I was wondering what room they were in.
As annoying as all of that is, the number one peeve I have with the overuse of Skype on her show is the position the people place the webcam for their interview. I don't want to look up your nose or at your crotch! DO NOT put your freaking laptop on the coffee table and then sit, most often in a reclined position, on your couch! All I see is stuff that I could have gone my entire life without seeing. It's like someone bending over in front of you of your face while you are sitting down, but way worse. Gross. For real, gross.
How do you not realize that you look a carnival special when the camera is not at the same level as your face? Why not put the laptop on a stack of books and then turn on the camera? Why not put it on a desk and then sit on a low chair? Do you think it is attractive to have the top of your head appear to be 6 inches narrower than your jawline? Do you not see that your hands look like they are 3x the size of your face? It is not aesthetically pleasing!
Here is the PSA of the day: People who join Oprah from their kitchens or living rooms or wherever via Skype, please, for the love of God, position your camera so I don't have to see your family jewels and/or the treasures in your nose. PLEEEEEEEASE! And if you insist on placing your webcam lower than your face, then at least pull your pants down before you sit so there isn't "bunchage" or "pulling" where there really shouldn't be and blow your nose a couple of times before you go live. The rest of the world would greatly appreciate it.
As annoying as all of that is, the number one peeve I have with the overuse of Skype on her show is the position the people place the webcam for their interview. I don't want to look up your nose or at your crotch! DO NOT put your freaking laptop on the coffee table and then sit, most often in a reclined position, on your couch! All I see is stuff that I could have gone my entire life without seeing. It's like someone bending over in front of you of your face while you are sitting down, but way worse. Gross. For real, gross.
How do you not realize that you look a carnival special when the camera is not at the same level as your face? Why not put the laptop on a stack of books and then turn on the camera? Why not put it on a desk and then sit on a low chair? Do you think it is attractive to have the top of your head appear to be 6 inches narrower than your jawline? Do you not see that your hands look like they are 3x the size of your face? It is not aesthetically pleasing!
Here is the PSA of the day: People who join Oprah from their kitchens or living rooms or wherever via Skype, please, for the love of God, position your camera so I don't have to see your family jewels and/or the treasures in your nose. PLEEEEEEEASE! And if you insist on placing your webcam lower than your face, then at least pull your pants down before you sit so there isn't "bunchage" or "pulling" where there really shouldn't be and blow your nose a couple of times before you go live. The rest of the world would greatly appreciate it.
Monday, October 27, 2008
ah man
I've been tagged, twice. So I guess I should stop stalling and do this already. But you two taggers should know that I don't do this for just anyone... or anyone at all really. You two are special! And being as narcissistic as I am, I am not going to tag anyone else. Ok, the reason I'm not tagging anyone else is because 98% of the blogs I read have already been tagged and the other 2% won't want in on this kind of action. I know, I know, I'm breaking the rules and now I'll probably have 7 years of bad luck and die a slow horrible death from bird flu induced intestinal and rectal bleeding, or whatever happens to you when you break a chain letter or email forward, but I'm willing to take the risk for your reading pleasure.
So here goes.
1. I have only successfully parallel parked a car 1 time, and that was by pure dumb luck. Unless I buy one of those cars that parks itself, I don't think I'll ever be able to do it again. And don't try telling me how to do it. It won't help, believe me.
2. I didn't read 85% of the assigned books I was supposed to read during college and I still got "A"s. There are about $3200 worth of unbroken bindings sitting in boxes in my attic... because everyone needs to save college text books about advances in computer technology from 8 years ago. Oh yeah, that book is totally relevant and useful in today's technology and is not a waste of space at all.
3. Today was trash day and I am very proud to say that for the past 2 weeks, we only had 4 total bags of trash. 2 bags were diapers, 1 bag was from the big party and the other was just general trash and food scraps. Everything else was recycled and I am willing to bet that if I had a compost pile (which is totally pointless for me to have considering I don't have any kind of garden) I would have had less than half a bag of actual, non diaper/ non party, garbage for the 2 weeks. And yes, I realize that throwing out diapers does nothing to reduce the carbon footprint, but at this point, there is no reason for me to invest in cloth diapers because the kids are so close to being out of diapers now. At least I flush the flushable stuff before I trash the diapers so that toxic waste isn't going into the landfills.
4. Speaking of poop, I think bloggers have ruined this election for everyone and I hate them for all of the drama and misinformation they have put out there. What a bunch of idiots, all hoping for their 15 seconds. Go back to what you do best (not much) and leave the politics for those who actually research, think things through, and know what they are talking about. Thanks.
5. I've never seen any of the Back to the Future movies, Harry Potter movies, Lord of the Rings movies, Narnia movies, Star Trek movies (or shows), Indiana Jones movies, Matrix movies, Jurassic Park movies or Pirates of the Caribbean movies, nor do I have any inclining of a bit of desire to see them. My friend J might disassociate herself from me for that, but it is true.
6. I won't eat any fruit that has brown or soft spots on it, especially bananas. I prefer them to be slightly green.
7. My kids are exactly 17 months apart, to the day of the month (10) and hour (6:55 and 7:55 pm) and both were born on the same day of the week (Saturday). We are extremely predictable people and, go figure, both of my kids crave routine.
So here goes.
1. I have only successfully parallel parked a car 1 time, and that was by pure dumb luck. Unless I buy one of those cars that parks itself, I don't think I'll ever be able to do it again. And don't try telling me how to do it. It won't help, believe me.2. I didn't read 85% of the assigned books I was supposed to read during college and I still got "A"s. There are about $3200 worth of unbroken bindings sitting in boxes in my attic... because everyone needs to save college text books about advances in computer technology from 8 years ago. Oh yeah, that book is totally relevant and useful in today's technology and is not a waste of space at all.
3. Today was trash day and I am very proud to say that for the past 2 weeks, we only had 4 total bags of trash. 2 bags were diapers, 1 bag was from the big party and the other was just general trash and food scraps. Everything else was recycled and I am willing to bet that if I had a compost pile (which is totally pointless for me to have considering I don't have any kind of garden) I would have had less than half a bag of actual, non diaper/ non party, garbage for the 2 weeks. And yes, I realize that throwing out diapers does nothing to reduce the carbon footprint, but at this point, there is no reason for me to invest in cloth diapers because the kids are so close to being out of diapers now. At least I flush the flushable stuff before I trash the diapers so that toxic waste isn't going into the landfills.
4. Speaking of poop, I think bloggers have ruined this election for everyone and I hate them for all of the drama and misinformation they have put out there. What a bunch of idiots, all hoping for their 15 seconds. Go back to what you do best (not much) and leave the politics for those who actually research, think things through, and know what they are talking about. Thanks.
5. I've never seen any of the Back to the Future movies, Harry Potter movies, Lord of the Rings movies, Narnia movies, Star Trek movies (or shows), Indiana Jones movies, Matrix movies, Jurassic Park movies or Pirates of the Caribbean movies, nor do I have any inclining of a bit of desire to see them. My friend J might disassociate herself from me for that, but it is true.
6. I won't eat any fruit that has brown or soft spots on it, especially bananas. I prefer them to be slightly green.
7. My kids are exactly 17 months apart, to the day of the month (10) and hour (6:55 and 7:55 pm) and both were born on the same day of the week (Saturday). We are extremely predictable people and, go figure, both of my kids crave routine.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
sick and twisted
The person who planned this either has a sick sense of humor or is an idiot.
All of these cows...
get to stare at...
this billboard ALL day long...
I drive by this dairy 3 times a week and didn't notice the irony until a couple of days ago, on a really bad day. And it made me laugh, really hard. So maybe I'm the one with a sick sense of humor? Muuuuuummmmmmmmm, Beef.
All of these cows...
get to stare at...
this billboard ALL day long...
I drive by this dairy 3 times a week and didn't notice the irony until a couple of days ago, on a really bad day. And it made me laugh, really hard. So maybe I'm the one with a sick sense of humor? Muuuuuummmmmmmmm, Beef.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
life can go on
Mr. Costco must have taken me very seriously because they are stocking Hot Tamales again. My sugar addiction and dentist thank you.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
dear mr. costco,
I'm writing to you to tell you that you suck. Why, you may ask, do you suck? Well, you suck because you have stopped carrying the ONE product that I find necessary for survival in your stores. My ONE vice is no longer available. Do you know what a cruel thing that is to do to a person? Especially without warning?? Could you not have put a simple sign over the product, informing consumers that "as of March Blah Blah Blah, this product will no longer be available so STOCK UP NOW!"? Because had I known you weren't going to carry the 5lb bag of Hot Tamales for $6.99 anymore, I would have bought the whole friggin pallet last time I was there. Screw saving money for a new refrigerator! I have needs!
Do you know what I have to pay for these things now? $1.49 for a stinkin 9.5 OUNCE box at the "regular" stores! The economy is already bad enough and now I have to shell out THAT much for that little? This is NOT gasoline or crude oil. It's sugar, corn syrup and pectin, with a little bit of pear juice and glorious red dye. One should never have to pay that much for sugar.
You might want to do yourself a favor and reevaluate your position on the sale of Hot Tamales in your stores. I have a big mouth and have no problem sharing my disdain with everyone I see, whether I know them or not. I'm a one woman movement. I'll make signs. I can have followers in no time... I once protested the horrible injustice that happens to dandelions every year as they are weed whacked to death and got people to protest with me. People honked as they passed us and everything. Don't think I won't protest your store over this.
Thank you for your time,
JoAnna
Do you know what I have to pay for these things now? $1.49 for a stinkin 9.5 OUNCE box at the "regular" stores! The economy is already bad enough and now I have to shell out THAT much for that little? This is NOT gasoline or crude oil. It's sugar, corn syrup and pectin, with a little bit of pear juice and glorious red dye. One should never have to pay that much for sugar.
You might want to do yourself a favor and reevaluate your position on the sale of Hot Tamales in your stores. I have a big mouth and have no problem sharing my disdain with everyone I see, whether I know them or not. I'm a one woman movement. I'll make signs. I can have followers in no time... I once protested the horrible injustice that happens to dandelions every year as they are weed whacked to death and got people to protest with me. People honked as they passed us and everything. Don't think I won't protest your store over this.
Thank you for your time,
JoAnna
Saturday, March 1, 2008
irony
I'm not sure why, but I think it is freaking hilarious that the pharmacy I go to stores their prenatal vitamins next to the birth control pills.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
too bad they are all taken...
Yesterday, Valentine's Day, I had to go to town to run my requisite errands. You know, getting the diapers for the baby bums and some kind of fruit snack that doesn't contain any kind of fruit for W to eat because that is the only thing he will eat these days, especially if they are in the shape of Nemo or Dori. Anyway, I wanted to just make a quick trip into the store because CB was screaming, but I quickly realized that wasn't going to be an option.
As soon as we walked in the store, we were in the flower section and it was FULL of men. Like, 20 of them. All walking around with this dazed and confused look on their face. What should I choose? Roses or Carnations? (Go with the roses, dude!) Red or Pink? (If you love her, go with the red. If not, go with the pink... or maybe yellow if you are gonna breakup soon) But, wait, I'm not sure she likes roses, should I go with the lilies? (Only if you plan on using them at your own funeral!) Roses aren't enough, should I get her chocolates or a balloon? (Sigh. Chocolate.) But that balloon plays music. (NO!) She won't think I think she's fat if I get her chocolate, will she? (Well, do you think she's fat?) Maybe I should get chocolates AND a balloon. (Dude, seriously. Skip the balloon. Make her dinner instead.) It was insane. I watched a few guys for a few minutes and they were really struggling. At least they were trying, I give them major props for that.
It was actually pretty sweet and endearing to see all of these guys thinking so hard to figure out what the perfect Valentine's Day gift would be for their sweetheart. Never mind that it was 3:30 on V Day and you know they had all forgotten about the day until they went to work and their women coworkers were complaining about how their husbands and boyfriends had forgotten it was V Day, and then realized they were screwed. If all of these dudes weren't taken, that flower section would have been a perfect place for a single woman to meet a good guy. I think I will tell my single friends to hit up the flower section of the store come Mother's Day because you know it's going to be prime picking! They will be sure to find a kind, lovable guy who loves their mother and treats her well, and what is better than that?
As soon as we walked in the store, we were in the flower section and it was FULL of men. Like, 20 of them. All walking around with this dazed and confused look on their face. What should I choose? Roses or Carnations? (Go with the roses, dude!) Red or Pink? (If you love her, go with the red. If not, go with the pink... or maybe yellow if you are gonna breakup soon) But, wait, I'm not sure she likes roses, should I go with the lilies? (Only if you plan on using them at your own funeral!) Roses aren't enough, should I get her chocolates or a balloon? (Sigh. Chocolate.) But that balloon plays music. (NO!) She won't think I think she's fat if I get her chocolate, will she? (Well, do you think she's fat?) Maybe I should get chocolates AND a balloon. (Dude, seriously. Skip the balloon. Make her dinner instead.) It was insane. I watched a few guys for a few minutes and they were really struggling. At least they were trying, I give them major props for that.
It was actually pretty sweet and endearing to see all of these guys thinking so hard to figure out what the perfect Valentine's Day gift would be for their sweetheart. Never mind that it was 3:30 on V Day and you know they had all forgotten about the day until they went to work and their women coworkers were complaining about how their husbands and boyfriends had forgotten it was V Day, and then realized they were screwed. If all of these dudes weren't taken, that flower section would have been a perfect place for a single woman to meet a good guy. I think I will tell my single friends to hit up the flower section of the store come Mother's Day because you know it's going to be prime picking! They will be sure to find a kind, lovable guy who loves their mother and treats her well, and what is better than that?
Monday, January 28, 2008
posers
This weekend I flew to another funeral for another one of M's friends that was killed a couple of weeks ago. It was a really beautiful service and I am so glad I was able to attend to honor his life and bravery. He was an amazing man and he will be greatly missed. It was a short trip, just one day. I flew there at 9 am and got a return flight at 5 pm.
Flying is not one of my favorite things to do, but I seem to do it a lot. I normally have panic attacks and have to distract myself with music or reading and I do a lot of breathing exercises. One thing I have found that always works to distract me is to people watch. I LOVE to people watch. Ask anyone. Give me a seat on a bench in a busy mall or a seat in a busy area of an airport and I will be happy for hours. People are weird and I love to watch their weirdness.
The city that I was flying in and out of was once a popular tourist destination, but has since been replaced by brighter lights and bigger hotels in another city nearby so it's not exactly where the well off go to party. Lets just say there were fanny packs and tapered pants a plenty and that combined with a lot of cheap beer made for prime people watching. Fanny packs aside, there was one woman in particular that really stood out to me. She thought she was aaaaaaaaaaalllll that. And a bag of chips.
This woman was probably in her late 40's and looked like she got in a fight with a BeDazzler and lost. There were more rhinestones and studs on that woman than I have ever seen on one person, even two people, for that matter. She had 4 huge gold rings on both hands, 4 big gold bracelets and a watch on her left arm, her black pants were studded down the sides, she had a studded belt on, her shirt had rhinestones along the collar and sleeve cuffs and even her shoes had stones on them. But lets talk about her glasses because they were the most bedazzling of all. Think: Sylvia Weinstock and add a disco ball. The sides of these HUGE black glasses were completely covered in silver rhinestones. Ah.Maz.Ing.
I first noticed her because I heard her cackle (yes, cackle, not laugh) as she was talking to someone on her phone. I'm just lucky she wasn't sitting under a bright light when I saw her because my eyes needed time to adjust and I surely would have been blinded by all of her embellishments if I had looked straight at her. Her phone in itself would have been enough to blind me, as it too was BeDazzled with bright red rhinestones.
She was talking to one of her friends, who was apparently named "Hun", about how her driver had made her walk 1/2 a block through the rain that morning because he was too stupid to drive through the flooded street to pick her up at her door and how she hoped he wasn't as much of an idiot when he picked her up after she landed. She kept saying "my driver" over and over and over, like she has a personal chauffeur or something. Then she started talking about how she needed to go to the City to do some shopping at the kind of stores most people never go into because they wouldn't even be able to purchase a sock there. She was talking so loud that we could all hear what she was saying and I still haven't figured out if she was doing on purpose or not, to make everyone think that she was totally rich.
There was this huge disconnect though because she couldn't have been that rich. She was flying on Southwest for goodness sake! If I was loaded, that would be the last airline I would be flying on. Even better though was when we landed at our destination, and I was walking to my car, she was in front of me and I saw her "driver" and car. It was one of those airport shuttle vans that costs like $15 each way. Not exactly the Lincoln I was expecting her to get into.
This just reminds me of the time I went to IKEA and was walking next to a couple who brought their pug in on a red velvet pillow. I always wondered why they were shopping at IKEA. That is not where the wealthy tend to shop, and I sure don't know of any middle class American that carries their dog on a red velvet pillow. Maybe that is common though and I don't get out enough to see it?
Maybe these people were really rich and they got rich from saving money by shopping at box stores for their furniture and flying on the crappiest airline known to man. But I really doubt that. I'm going to wage my bets on the fact that they are posers. I won't judge though. Whatever you gotta do to get your kicks is fine by me. Heck, it provides me with tons of entertainment so have at it!
Flying is not one of my favorite things to do, but I seem to do it a lot. I normally have panic attacks and have to distract myself with music or reading and I do a lot of breathing exercises. One thing I have found that always works to distract me is to people watch. I LOVE to people watch. Ask anyone. Give me a seat on a bench in a busy mall or a seat in a busy area of an airport and I will be happy for hours. People are weird and I love to watch their weirdness.
The city that I was flying in and out of was once a popular tourist destination, but has since been replaced by brighter lights and bigger hotels in another city nearby so it's not exactly where the well off go to party. Lets just say there were fanny packs and tapered pants a plenty and that combined with a lot of cheap beer made for prime people watching. Fanny packs aside, there was one woman in particular that really stood out to me. She thought she was aaaaaaaaaaalllll that. And a bag of chips.
This woman was probably in her late 40's and looked like she got in a fight with a BeDazzler and lost. There were more rhinestones and studs on that woman than I have ever seen on one person, even two people, for that matter. She had 4 huge gold rings on both hands, 4 big gold bracelets and a watch on her left arm, her black pants were studded down the sides, she had a studded belt on, her shirt had rhinestones along the collar and sleeve cuffs and even her shoes had stones on them. But lets talk about her glasses because they were the most bedazzling of all. Think: Sylvia Weinstock and add a disco ball. The sides of these HUGE black glasses were completely covered in silver rhinestones. Ah.Maz.Ing.
I first noticed her because I heard her cackle (yes, cackle, not laugh) as she was talking to someone on her phone. I'm just lucky she wasn't sitting under a bright light when I saw her because my eyes needed time to adjust and I surely would have been blinded by all of her embellishments if I had looked straight at her. Her phone in itself would have been enough to blind me, as it too was BeDazzled with bright red rhinestones.
She was talking to one of her friends, who was apparently named "Hun", about how her driver had made her walk 1/2 a block through the rain that morning because he was too stupid to drive through the flooded street to pick her up at her door and how she hoped he wasn't as much of an idiot when he picked her up after she landed. She kept saying "my driver" over and over and over, like she has a personal chauffeur or something. Then she started talking about how she needed to go to the City to do some shopping at the kind of stores most people never go into because they wouldn't even be able to purchase a sock there. She was talking so loud that we could all hear what she was saying and I still haven't figured out if she was doing on purpose or not, to make everyone think that she was totally rich.
There was this huge disconnect though because she couldn't have been that rich. She was flying on Southwest for goodness sake! If I was loaded, that would be the last airline I would be flying on. Even better though was when we landed at our destination, and I was walking to my car, she was in front of me and I saw her "driver" and car. It was one of those airport shuttle vans that costs like $15 each way. Not exactly the Lincoln I was expecting her to get into.
This just reminds me of the time I went to IKEA and was walking next to a couple who brought their pug in on a red velvet pillow. I always wondered why they were shopping at IKEA. That is not where the wealthy tend to shop, and I sure don't know of any middle class American that carries their dog on a red velvet pillow. Maybe that is common though and I don't get out enough to see it?
Maybe these people were really rich and they got rich from saving money by shopping at box stores for their furniture and flying on the crappiest airline known to man. But I really doubt that. I'm going to wage my bets on the fact that they are posers. I won't judge though. Whatever you gotta do to get your kicks is fine by me. Heck, it provides me with tons of entertainment so have at it!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
notes:
1) A big fat tremendous THANK YOU goes out to the State Trooper who didn't give me a speeding ticket even though I totally deserved one. Thank you for being sympathetic and understanding. I swear, I didn't drive more than 73 mph after you pulled me over.
2) Uggs and 2 pairs of ski socks will not keep toes from freezing in -13 degree, and colder, weather.
3) I guess I shouldn't be surprised that my parents don't seem too surprised that I ran their car into a pole... again... for the third time...
4) The dude who does the Oxyclean commercials annoys me.
5) To my fellow Army wives: what can I say? You guys are amazing and I want to thank you for all you do. These past few weeks have been brutal, to say the least, and I'm so thankful that I have you guys to fall on when I need to vent, cry, or be real. Continue to stand strong during this hard time. I miss you all and I'm proud to say you are my friends.
6) To the rest of you: Please continue to support and pray for our troops. Now, more than ever, they need you. This isn't "just" war or politics, it is their reality and their life. They are out there for YOU, dying for YOU, like it or not. They don't need to hear how dissatisfied everyone is with the job they are doing. They need your support. Isn't that the least you can do?
7) I have learned a lot in the past few weeks and I have been forever changed. The events that have occurred hit way to close to home and it is heartbreaking and frightening. My husband, children and I don't have the wonderful pleasure of living in a bubble of denial like the rest of the 99.5% of the population does. So if I seem standoffish or evasive, that's because I don't have time to deal with any BS anymore. I have a life to live and a family to take care of and I'm not going to apologize for it.
2) Uggs and 2 pairs of ski socks will not keep toes from freezing in -13 degree, and colder, weather.
3) I guess I shouldn't be surprised that my parents don't seem too surprised that I ran their car into a pole... again... for the third time...
4) The dude who does the Oxyclean commercials annoys me.
5) To my fellow Army wives: what can I say? You guys are amazing and I want to thank you for all you do. These past few weeks have been brutal, to say the least, and I'm so thankful that I have you guys to fall on when I need to vent, cry, or be real. Continue to stand strong during this hard time. I miss you all and I'm proud to say you are my friends.
6) To the rest of you: Please continue to support and pray for our troops. Now, more than ever, they need you. This isn't "just" war or politics, it is their reality and their life. They are out there for YOU, dying for YOU, like it or not. They don't need to hear how dissatisfied everyone is with the job they are doing. They need your support. Isn't that the least you can do?
7) I have learned a lot in the past few weeks and I have been forever changed. The events that have occurred hit way to close to home and it is heartbreaking and frightening. My husband, children and I don't have the wonderful pleasure of living in a bubble of denial like the rest of the 99.5% of the population does. So if I seem standoffish or evasive, that's because I don't have time to deal with any BS anymore. I have a life to live and a family to take care of and I'm not going to apologize for it.
Friday, November 9, 2007
pimp my ride, much?
Today I had to take CB to get x-rays done on her hips. Since she isn't mobile and often looks like a frog, they want to be sure her hip joints are in the sockets. Anyway, when we were walking out of the hospital, this car was behind me and the music was really loud. I hate that. I find it totally disrespectful and REALLY annoying.
I don't want to hear about how you smack your hos or how you kill your bros. I don't want to hear about your milkshake or how you spend your g's. I really don't like the sound of an electric guitar and I don't like my children being exposed to death metal. I don't want my inner ear bones to rattle to the point that my vision blurs and I do like hearing clearly out of both ears.
I don't care about free speech, blah blah blah. This has nothing to do with free speech. It's my right not to have to listen to things that I find to be garbage. It's your right to listen to things that I find to be garbage in the comfort of your own home or car in a manner that doesn't pollute the earth with more useless and unnecessary noise. Blast your ears out if you want to, just don't make me take part.
So when this particular car was behind me, blasting this obscene music as loud as possible, in a hospital parking lot no less, I naturally turned to give the driver a death glare, and quite possibly the bird if I felt so inclined, and it was then that I became confused. The windows of the truck were all rolled up. So how on earth could the music be coming out so clear? External speakers. WHAT THE HECK?! Is that really necessary? Is this what the world is coming to? This is just out of control.
I don't want to hear about how you smack your hos or how you kill your bros. I don't want to hear about your milkshake or how you spend your g's. I really don't like the sound of an electric guitar and I don't like my children being exposed to death metal. I don't want my inner ear bones to rattle to the point that my vision blurs and I do like hearing clearly out of both ears.
I don't care about free speech, blah blah blah. This has nothing to do with free speech. It's my right not to have to listen to things that I find to be garbage. It's your right to listen to things that I find to be garbage in the comfort of your own home or car in a manner that doesn't pollute the earth with more useless and unnecessary noise. Blast your ears out if you want to, just don't make me take part.
So when this particular car was behind me, blasting this obscene music as loud as possible, in a hospital parking lot no less, I naturally turned to give the driver a death glare, and quite possibly the bird if I felt so inclined, and it was then that I became confused. The windows of the truck were all rolled up. So how on earth could the music be coming out so clear? External speakers. WHAT THE HECK?! Is that really necessary? Is this what the world is coming to? This is just out of control.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
the first step is admitting you have a problem
Two nights ago I went to prepare my morning coffee and I realized we had a crisis on our hands. I was out of coffee filters! How had I let this happen?! How could I have been so darn irresponsible to let myself stoop to this new low? What was I going to do? Last year I had bought a pack of coffee filters at Costco that I was sure would last me until at least 2010. I was sure there were at least 1500 filters in the pack. I was delusional, apparently, because the pack only contained 400 filters. But I still searched the entire kitchen 3 times to see if I had just 1 left somewhere. I didn't.
Instead of crying about it, I googled "coffee filter substitutes" and there were a few sites that said you could use a paper towel instead. But that was too much work and being my luck, I know the paper towel would have been too thick and would have caused an overflowing mess in my kitchen. So then I would have been without my coffee and with a huge mess to clean up. That's just not a good way to start the day. I searched the kitchen one last time and then compromised and decided I would drink a Coke in the morning instead so I wouldn't get that insane caffeine headache at 3 in the afternoon.
The next morning I woke up and did my habitual practice of walking to the coffee maker to press the button. And then I remembered; there was no coffee to be made this morning. It made me sad and the compromise of drinking Coke just wasn't sounding good. Then I remembered that my much loved Cuisinart Brew Central that I bought a couple of years ago might have come with a few sample coffee filters. I haven't used this coffee maker since we left Washington over a year ago because it won't fit into the outlets here without blowing the house up so it's been in it's box in the attic. I climbed up to the attic and opened the box and there, like a light from heaven, was a single coffee filter. Hallelujah!
In the literal hour I was searching for a stupid filter, I didn't realize how desperate and obsessive I was. But as I was drinking my delicious coffee, I realized that I had a problem. Hi. My name is JoAnna and I have an addiction.
(here come the justifications and excuses)
It's not the caffeine that I love, although that's a nice perk. When I make the coffee, I make 6 cups and drink 4 or 5 of them. I make it with 5 scoops of decaf and 2 scoops of regular coffee. So it really isn't the caffeine rush that I get which makes me so addicted but it's the routine of the coffee that I need. There's something really comforting about starting your day with a warm cup of hazelnut flavored creamer with a bit of coffee. I don't drink it after noon. I just drink it in the morning so it's not like I need an IV drip of it daily so it's not that bad. But the fact that it can make or break my day is what makes this a problem.
It can't be that bad of an addiction, though. There are some out there that are much worse. There are at least health benefits associated with mine, as coffee is filled with antioxidants and does great things for your body and mind. There's even an entire website devoted to the benefits of coffee. Granted, it's sponsored by the National Coffee Association and the people who run all of these studies are probably addicted to coffee too and are just looking for some justification for drinking so much...
But if my 4-5 cups of decaf a day helps cut my risk for liver cancer and Parkinson's, then I'm going to keep drinking up. Heck, if I drink enough coffee and red wine and eat enough canned tomatoes, then maybe, just maybe I can undo some of the damage I've done from drinking out of hard plastic bottles, living under high voltage power lines, eating so much high fructose corn syrup, standing in front of the microwave, living on or near farms that use pesticides, talking on a cell phone for more than a hour at a time, drinking too much soda, eating non organic produce and meat, being in the sun without sun block, driving a diesel engine car, having too many x-rays done, swallowing fluoride tooth paste as a kid, eating paste as a kid, painting tons of rooms, cleaning with harsh chemicals, etc... I better get a ton of coffee filters.
Instead of crying about it, I googled "coffee filter substitutes" and there were a few sites that said you could use a paper towel instead. But that was too much work and being my luck, I know the paper towel would have been too thick and would have caused an overflowing mess in my kitchen. So then I would have been without my coffee and with a huge mess to clean up. That's just not a good way to start the day. I searched the kitchen one last time and then compromised and decided I would drink a Coke in the morning instead so I wouldn't get that insane caffeine headache at 3 in the afternoon.
The next morning I woke up and did my habitual practice of walking to the coffee maker to press the button. And then I remembered; there was no coffee to be made this morning. It made me sad and the compromise of drinking Coke just wasn't sounding good. Then I remembered that my much loved Cuisinart Brew Central that I bought a couple of years ago might have come with a few sample coffee filters. I haven't used this coffee maker since we left Washington over a year ago because it won't fit into the outlets here without blowing the house up so it's been in it's box in the attic. I climbed up to the attic and opened the box and there, like a light from heaven, was a single coffee filter. Hallelujah!
In the literal hour I was searching for a stupid filter, I didn't realize how desperate and obsessive I was. But as I was drinking my delicious coffee, I realized that I had a problem. Hi. My name is JoAnna and I have an addiction.
(here come the justifications and excuses)
It's not the caffeine that I love, although that's a nice perk. When I make the coffee, I make 6 cups and drink 4 or 5 of them. I make it with 5 scoops of decaf and 2 scoops of regular coffee. So it really isn't the caffeine rush that I get which makes me so addicted but it's the routine of the coffee that I need. There's something really comforting about starting your day with a warm cup of hazelnut flavored creamer with a bit of coffee. I don't drink it after noon. I just drink it in the morning so it's not like I need an IV drip of it daily so it's not that bad. But the fact that it can make or break my day is what makes this a problem.
It can't be that bad of an addiction, though. There are some out there that are much worse. There are at least health benefits associated with mine, as coffee is filled with antioxidants and does great things for your body and mind. There's even an entire website devoted to the benefits of coffee. Granted, it's sponsored by the National Coffee Association and the people who run all of these studies are probably addicted to coffee too and are just looking for some justification for drinking so much...
But if my 4-5 cups of decaf a day helps cut my risk for liver cancer and Parkinson's, then I'm going to keep drinking up. Heck, if I drink enough coffee and red wine and eat enough canned tomatoes, then maybe, just maybe I can undo some of the damage I've done from drinking out of hard plastic bottles, living under high voltage power lines, eating so much high fructose corn syrup, standing in front of the microwave, living on or near farms that use pesticides, talking on a cell phone for more than a hour at a time, drinking too much soda, eating non organic produce and meat, being in the sun without sun block, driving a diesel engine car, having too many x-rays done, swallowing fluoride tooth paste as a kid, eating paste as a kid, painting tons of rooms, cleaning with harsh chemicals, etc... I better get a ton of coffee filters.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
pet peeve #1
If there is one thing I cannot stand above everything else, it is disrespectful and "entitled" teenagers who think they are the Shiz-Nit. Ask my sister and my cousins, they will tell you this is very true, as they often hear me complain about their idiot peers and annoying friends. I've earned quite a reputation among their friends as being a witch (and worse), which I think is hilarious.
It's for good reason that I've earned this reputation. I've been known to stand up and shush bratty kids who talk loudly in the movie theater and I've been known to tell others when they are being inappropriate. My favorite, though, was the time I was at Starbucks on a fall night and heard a few 14 year old hoochie mamas, who wearing nothing but tube tops and size 7 mini skirts that they had squeezed their size 11 booties into, complain that they were cold. So I politely told them that if they went home and put some clothes on, that they wouldn't be cold anymore. That was met with a round of "Um, who does she think she is?" and "Aint nothing but a hate-ah".
I just don't get this teenage culture, which is pretty lame because I was just there 6 years ago. But I was never like that. I was a big fat dork and still am. Here's the thing, it doesn't matter what color you paint your Dodge Neon, or how many spoilers you put on it, or if you put Lamborghini doors on it, or what kind of glass shattering/ ear deafening system you put into it. It's ALWAYS going to be a Dodge Neon. You can drive it as fast as you want, but it's never going to be awesome. You thinking you are awesome in it makes you look that much more stupid. I will tell you as much, too. And don't even get me started on that whole emo thing... My poor sister and cousin have tried to explain it to me, at length, and I still don't get it. That's ok, though. Some things are better left to be a mystery to me. Less to stress about, right?
Today we were at the commissary getting groceries and there was a group of teenagers hanging out and running through the aisles. Because you are cool if you hang out at the commissary, in your too tight jeans and Converse with your spiked and studded belt and chains hanging from your pockets. Oh how I wish I was you. As we were walking the aisles, the brats started being stupid and started cussing really loudly. One of them yelled "Shut the F up" (but said the real word) and guess what flew out of my son's mouth? Yeah, that bird don't fly with me.
I promptly turned my cart around, as my son was swearing up a storm and laughing because he thought it was hilarious, and walked over to these mutants. They, of course, blew me off, so I cornered them and proceeded to give them a fun little lecture. The eye rolling was out of control on their part so I broke it down to them: either they apologize to each and every one of the people in ear shot for their vulgar and rude behavior, or I call the military police and file a complaint for disorderly conduct. But someone else must have complained about them because the store manager was soon in our little corner and told them all to leave, which totally ruined my fun.
They left, but not without saying a few more choice words, which my son tried to repeat but I started stuffing his mouth with pretzels and gave him a box of pills to play with so he lost interest in his new vocabulary, thankfully. As I was leaving the store, though, the mutants were hanging out outside. Apparently there is NO other place to hang out here. They didn't dare say a word to me, especially because there was an MP about 50 feet away. But you can bet that I made sure they didn't see which car was mine. One of these days, I'm going to wake up to my house being egged or find that my car has been keyed. I just know it.
It's for good reason that I've earned this reputation. I've been known to stand up and shush bratty kids who talk loudly in the movie theater and I've been known to tell others when they are being inappropriate. My favorite, though, was the time I was at Starbucks on a fall night and heard a few 14 year old hoochie mamas, who wearing nothing but tube tops and size 7 mini skirts that they had squeezed their size 11 booties into, complain that they were cold. So I politely told them that if they went home and put some clothes on, that they wouldn't be cold anymore. That was met with a round of "Um, who does she think she is?" and "Aint nothing but a hate-ah".
I just don't get this teenage culture, which is pretty lame because I was just there 6 years ago. But I was never like that. I was a big fat dork and still am. Here's the thing, it doesn't matter what color you paint your Dodge Neon, or how many spoilers you put on it, or if you put Lamborghini doors on it, or what kind of glass shattering/ ear deafening system you put into it. It's ALWAYS going to be a Dodge Neon. You can drive it as fast as you want, but it's never going to be awesome. You thinking you are awesome in it makes you look that much more stupid. I will tell you as much, too. And don't even get me started on that whole emo thing... My poor sister and cousin have tried to explain it to me, at length, and I still don't get it. That's ok, though. Some things are better left to be a mystery to me. Less to stress about, right?
Today we were at the commissary getting groceries and there was a group of teenagers hanging out and running through the aisles. Because you are cool if you hang out at the commissary, in your too tight jeans and Converse with your spiked and studded belt and chains hanging from your pockets. Oh how I wish I was you. As we were walking the aisles, the brats started being stupid and started cussing really loudly. One of them yelled "Shut the F up" (but said the real word) and guess what flew out of my son's mouth? Yeah, that bird don't fly with me.
I promptly turned my cart around, as my son was swearing up a storm and laughing because he thought it was hilarious, and walked over to these mutants. They, of course, blew me off, so I cornered them and proceeded to give them a fun little lecture. The eye rolling was out of control on their part so I broke it down to them: either they apologize to each and every one of the people in ear shot for their vulgar and rude behavior, or I call the military police and file a complaint for disorderly conduct. But someone else must have complained about them because the store manager was soon in our little corner and told them all to leave, which totally ruined my fun.
They left, but not without saying a few more choice words, which my son tried to repeat but I started stuffing his mouth with pretzels and gave him a box of pills to play with so he lost interest in his new vocabulary, thankfully. As I was leaving the store, though, the mutants were hanging out outside. Apparently there is NO other place to hang out here. They didn't dare say a word to me, especially because there was an MP about 50 feet away. But you can bet that I made sure they didn't see which car was mine. One of these days, I'm going to wake up to my house being egged or find that my car has been keyed. I just know it.
Monday, August 13, 2007
how i fold a fitted sheet
This topic has come up in a lot conversations, so I figured it was time to prove, once and for all, that I can fold a fitted sheet. Why my friends don't believe me when I tell them I can fold a fitted sheet is beyond me. Why we're even talking about folding fitted sheets is beyond me, too. The fact that this has come up numerous times in conversations between my friends and I shows that we need to find better and more interesting things to talk about, doesn't it? Are our lives that boring? Yes, they quite possibly are. But let's not focus on my level of lameness, ok?
So here it is... kind of. I'm not great at writing tutorials. Heck, I'm not great at reading tutorials, which is probably why I can't get my answering machine to work. No, that's a bad example because that tutorial is in German and we all know how great I am at comprehending the German language. Anyway, if you can't understand what I'm saying, then hopefully the pictures will help. If you still can't understand how I do it, then just keep balling up the sheets and throwing them in your closet or putting them on your bed directly from the dryer... it's probably easier to do it that way anyway!
So here it is... kind of. I'm not great at writing tutorials. Heck, I'm not great at reading tutorials, which is probably why I can't get my answering machine to work. No, that's a bad example because that tutorial is in German and we all know how great I am at comprehending the German language. Anyway, if you can't understand what I'm saying, then hopefully the pictures will help. If you still can't understand how I do it, then just keep balling up the sheets and throwing them in your closet or putting them on your bed directly from the dryer... it's probably easier to do it that way anyway!
Friday, July 27, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
omg! like, totally!
Today I had a wicked blond moment. My cousin and I were driving back from IKEA and I had the TomTom plugged in to tell me where to go, just in case I suddenly became an idiot and forgot. As we were coming to an interchange, the annoying British woman came over the loud speaker and told me my exit was coming up.
At the time, I was looking at the sign above the freeway and it said the exit was 2000 meters away. Then I looked at the TomTom and it was saying the exit was 2 km away. And for a brief moment, I tried to figure out how many meters were in a kilometer...
That's almost as bad as the day I spent no less than 20 minutes convinced that the word "Of" was, in fact, spelled "Ov".
You know that old saying that blonds have more fun? Well, they aren't really having more fun as much as they are giving the illusion they are... because they are confused so much of the time... it just makes us look like we are having more fun... I'm really not an idiot, I swear.
At the time, I was looking at the sign above the freeway and it said the exit was 2000 meters away. Then I looked at the TomTom and it was saying the exit was 2 km away. And for a brief moment, I tried to figure out how many meters were in a kilometer...
That's almost as bad as the day I spent no less than 20 minutes convinced that the word "Of" was, in fact, spelled "Ov".
You know that old saying that blonds have more fun? Well, they aren't really having more fun as much as they are giving the illusion they are... because they are confused so much of the time... it just makes us look like we are having more fun... I'm really not an idiot, I swear.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
some things are universal
Today we went to the Frankfurt Airport to drop my husband off for his trip home. That airport is huge and I have to say, even worse than O Hare, especially since they are doing construction. There are people EVERYWHERE and being the peak of the summer tourist season only makes it CrAzY insane.
After we said our disgustingly sappy goodbyes, I had to feed the baby so I searched far and wide for a bench or a chair to sit on. I finally found one about 32 miles from my car but it was next to a family that had 2 pre-teen sons. I wasn't sure how they would feel about boobs (I'm sure the boys didn't care) but I had to feed her, so I sat down anyway. They boys were playing Game Boy and tripping each other and giving each other wet willies and flicking boogers at each other. It was great fun to watch... only because my children have a long way to go till they reach that stage, thank goodness. It was also interesting to see this because they didn't speak any English, or any language I had ever been exposed to, for that matter. And here I was thinking that only bratty American kids engaged in that kind of behavior.
At one point, the younger of the two was being really loud and the mom shushed him and told him the baby next to him was sleeping. How I understood that, I'm not sure, but it was clear as day. I smiled and told her it was ok and she told me that he was too loud anyway. She still wasn't speaking English and I certainly wasn't speaking her language, but we understood each other.
Then a snotty woman walked by with her fake Louis Vuitton luggage, or as my friend T would say, Lewi Baton luggage, and she was walking her little wiener dog on a pink rhinestone leash. The younger of the two boys started cracking up and yelling, "Mom!! A sausage dog! A sausage dog!" The snotty woman got offended and gave us a dirty look, which made all of us laugh amongst ourselves.
It was just funny that none of us spoke the same language, but we all understood what was going on and it was refreshing to know that some things are just universal. It makes me realize that the world really isn't so big.
After we said our disgustingly sappy goodbyes, I had to feed the baby so I searched far and wide for a bench or a chair to sit on. I finally found one about 32 miles from my car but it was next to a family that had 2 pre-teen sons. I wasn't sure how they would feel about boobs (I'm sure the boys didn't care) but I had to feed her, so I sat down anyway. They boys were playing Game Boy and tripping each other and giving each other wet willies and flicking boogers at each other. It was great fun to watch... only because my children have a long way to go till they reach that stage, thank goodness. It was also interesting to see this because they didn't speak any English, or any language I had ever been exposed to, for that matter. And here I was thinking that only bratty American kids engaged in that kind of behavior.
At one point, the younger of the two was being really loud and the mom shushed him and told him the baby next to him was sleeping. How I understood that, I'm not sure, but it was clear as day. I smiled and told her it was ok and she told me that he was too loud anyway. She still wasn't speaking English and I certainly wasn't speaking her language, but we understood each other.
Then a snotty woman walked by with her fake Louis Vuitton luggage, or as my friend T would say, Lewi Baton luggage, and she was walking her little wiener dog on a pink rhinestone leash. The younger of the two boys started cracking up and yelling, "Mom!! A sausage dog! A sausage dog!" The snotty woman got offended and gave us a dirty look, which made all of us laugh amongst ourselves.
It was just funny that none of us spoke the same language, but we all understood what was going on and it was refreshing to know that some things are just universal. It makes me realize that the world really isn't so big.
Monday, July 9, 2007
i need to get out more
In this house, we've seen the movie "Cars" about 247 times. Both my husband and I have memorized the entire movie and our son knows the scenes and can tell you what is coming next. And I said I wasn't going to ever let my kids watch TV... I say this as he's screaming at me because the Simpsons went to a commercial and he thinks it's over. To him, that is the same as puppies dying or feeding him only spinach; Horrible. The end of happiness. Judge me. I dare you. I've definitely secured my place in mommy hell.
I'll admit it, the TV is on too much. But there's nothing else to do and often, it's my only connection to the outside world. I have my shows and since we don't have TIVO, I have to watch them when they are on, or it's a bad day in this house.
For awhile, I was completely fascinated with the Amazing Race. That is a show my husband and I could win. He could do all of the navigating and eat all of the nasty stuff and I could do all of the nagging and crying. I'd be the "dramatic flare" all producers dream of. We could win, I know it.
Over Memorial Day, we took a trip to Holland. Our 7 hour drive turned into a 12 hour drive... the kind of drive that is just long enough to make you think you are losing your mind. It was about hour 5 when I started to lose it. Every mile we drove was being "narrated" by the narrator and host of the Amazing Race. All I could hear was "Teams must now drive 146 km to the nearest autohof. Here, they must fill their car and find food for their kids before they freak out. Once they have completed this task, they will receive their next clue". It was annoying but slightly entertaining.
Before the Amazing Race aired here, America's Next Top Model was on. That was dangerous. I have to admit, while I was home alone and the kids were sleeping, I would practice my cat walk, just in case. Now, I could never EVER win that show... well, not unless they were looking for that "never does her hair, wears the same clothes 2 days in a row, is lucky to brush her teeth once a day, has bags under her eyes every morning and sports love handles" kind of look. Yeah, I won't be on that show anytime soon. But that doesn't stop me from wondering what I would be labeled as. Would I be the matriarch, or the witch, or the angry one that every one gangs up on? Or all of the above?
Sometimes, when I'm really bored, I make up a sitcom in my head... oh my, I'm sounding way too much like a dork. I must stop before I truly embarrass myself.
I'll admit it, the TV is on too much. But there's nothing else to do and often, it's my only connection to the outside world. I have my shows and since we don't have TIVO, I have to watch them when they are on, or it's a bad day in this house.
For awhile, I was completely fascinated with the Amazing Race. That is a show my husband and I could win. He could do all of the navigating and eat all of the nasty stuff and I could do all of the nagging and crying. I'd be the "dramatic flare" all producers dream of. We could win, I know it.
Over Memorial Day, we took a trip to Holland. Our 7 hour drive turned into a 12 hour drive... the kind of drive that is just long enough to make you think you are losing your mind. It was about hour 5 when I started to lose it. Every mile we drove was being "narrated" by the narrator and host of the Amazing Race. All I could hear was "Teams must now drive 146 km to the nearest autohof. Here, they must fill their car and find food for their kids before they freak out. Once they have completed this task, they will receive their next clue". It was annoying but slightly entertaining.
Before the Amazing Race aired here, America's Next Top Model was on. That was dangerous. I have to admit, while I was home alone and the kids were sleeping, I would practice my cat walk, just in case. Now, I could never EVER win that show... well, not unless they were looking for that "never does her hair, wears the same clothes 2 days in a row, is lucky to brush her teeth once a day, has bags under her eyes every morning and sports love handles" kind of look. Yeah, I won't be on that show anytime soon. But that doesn't stop me from wondering what I would be labeled as. Would I be the matriarch, or the witch, or the angry one that every one gangs up on? Or all of the above?
Sometimes, when I'm really bored, I make up a sitcom in my head... oh my, I'm sounding way too much like a dork. I must stop before I truly embarrass myself.
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