Oh, hello! Come in and have a Caramelized Apple Tart* and some coffee.
My rant today is about the media. And all the time that is wasted on stupid stuff.
Do any of us REALLY care about Jon and Kate? About her new stupid hair-do? About his girlfriend? What about Misha Barton having a meltdown? Or how much the First Lady’s sneakers cost?
I freely admit that I look at the headlines on the tabloids. I even buy a People magazine on occasion. (I used to subscribe, but thought it was a waste of money for something that could be read in about 10 minutes.) I am not “above” reading about celebrity crap.
But OMGoat! Enough! Give us the “big” stories – who is getting married/divorced, who had a baby, who died. I don’t need to know about every time Kate Hudson goes to a baseball game. Or Lindsey Lohan goes shopping. Or Matthew McConahay goes running. There has to be something more important going on in the world than the fact that Kanye pulled another assholish move and dissed Taylor Swift. Let me think… OH! that’s right! There’s a friggin war in Afghanistan (among other places) and we (Americans, among other countries) have troops (sons, daughters, husbands, wives, parents) there.
And as far as the President goes? The complaining about him screwing up the country started BEFORE he even took office. Really? Can the complainers see into the future?? And where can I buy that skill? Like him or hate him, agree with him or don’t, but Judas H. Priest! Give the guy a fair chance to phuck everything up before you burn him in effigy! I would expect that of ANY president, regardless of the political party to which they belong. And to sit and analyze EVERY SINGLE THING HE DOES – mostly on the stuff not “Oh, by the way, I’m running the country” related, is childish and petty. Analyze the big decisions. Call your Congress and Senate representatives about that stuff. Don’t bitch because the First Family is wealthy and Mrs. Obama can afford, and chooses to wear, $500 sneakers. I may think it’s stupid to pay that much too, but if she has the money and wants them? LET HER.
Jesus Christ. Move on. Let’s get out of the weeds and focus on the big issues. There are plenty of wonderful charities doing great works all over the planet. Find out more about them. Read to the elderly. Teach someone to read. Go for a walk. But, please. Just stop with the inane blathering of all things inconsequential. There’s too much noise in the world already. Maybe we can help quiet it.
*Recipe for tarts:
How to Prepare: Take one pastry shell (half), layer on cheesecake, add 3-4 apple slices, then drizzle with caramel.
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Oh, hello! We’re having tea and bagels this morning. Help yourself.
I do love me some makeover shows. I loved What Not To Wear (WNTW) on the BBC. Trinny and Susannah picked apart the wardrobes of frumpy, schlumpy women and made them FABULOUS! And unlike American telly, they got to say things like “You have really great tits!”
There was a show on TLC (I think) called 10 Years Younger that was fun. (It might still be on, but something shiny went by and I haven’t watched it in forever, so who knows.) They took someone, put them in a sound-proof box. Then random passers-by critiqued them and what was “wrong” with their look/style and said how old they looked. After new clothes, new hair/makeup, and a pep talk, they went back in the box and went thru the same process. The difference was 10 years younger. (Imagine the editing that went into that!)
Then TLC brought WNTW to America. They made it an hour show, instead of the 30 minutes that BBC had. The first season (maybe 2?) they had Stacey and Wayne. Remember Wayne? The Fabio-wannabe with the long hair who thought he was all that, and a bag of chips, plus tax? Yeah, not so much. He was replaced by Clinton – a tall, thin, fabulous partner. They (S&C) make over women (they used to do guys too, but not any more) and are very respectful of the “big” girls – “It’s not about what size you are”, etc. blah blah blah. (Oh, of course it is. That’s what we do here in this country. But I digress). I still watch them and enjoy seeing the transformations. They finally replaced the hair guy (thank goat!) and now if they would replace the annoying makeup chick (not everybody wants a phucking smoky eye, you whore. And put on a top that fits, while you are at it!) the show would be great.
Well, now we have the best of both worlds. Trinny and Susannah have come to America!! I absolutely LOVE these two. Why? Because, while like C&S, they are respectful of “women of size”, they don’t gloss over it. They confront it and celebrate the “flaws” – regardless of the size of the woman. They also aren’t afraid of pointing out their own “flaws”. It’s definitely more like your best girlfriends telling you what you need to hear, rather than what you want to hear. AND! they take their “victim” to a store in their own town. IMO, this is the best part. They show the makeover person how to shop in their own environment with what they have available to them on a regular basis.
C&S fly the makeover person to NYC to shop. That is great and exciting and glamorous, but it’s not realistic for women who live in North Dakota, or Ohio, or wherever, who don’t have access to the ritzy-titzy stores of Manhattan.
Anyhoo. Today’s blog was brought about because I was trying to celebrate my gut, and I thought about how awesome it would be to have Trinny and Susannah come here and do a makeover on me. Here is their website, in case you want to find out more about them.
Oh, hello! Come in and have a sugar-free popsicle, and we’ll watch episode one together.
A new season of TBL starts tonight. I can’t wait. The transformations are usually phenomenal, even though, by the end of the season, the remaining contestants make me stabby.
This season is being called “The Season of Second Chances”.
The contestants:
Abby: 35 yo teacher; her “second chance” is that she lost her husband and 2 kids in a fatal car accident (SAD!!), and wants to get back to life. Horrible, horrible story. Really. She’s 5’4″. Starting weight: 247 pounds.
Alexandra: 20 yo college student; 5’8″. Second chance at a future – living a normal college life. Cannot currently fit into the classroom seats. Starting weight: 309 pounds
Allen: 44 yo fireman. 5’11”. Second chance: success as a fireman. His weight currently puts others in his unit at risk. Starting weight: 325 pounds.
Amanda: 19 yo Patient Care Tech. 5’6″. Second chance: “to really start living in her 20s”. (WTH?) She is the one selected at the finale of last season. Starting weight: 250 pounds.
Antoine: 23 yo Health Insurance Agent. 6’0″. (health insurance? heh.) Second chance: his father died at age 30, and he feels he may too. Starting weight: 367 pounds.
Daniel: 20 yo student. 5’8″. Second chance: he was on last season with the dick-head partner who didn’t do much. I liked him last season, and wanted him to succeed, but honestly, I don’t know how I feel about him having another go on this show. I think it irritates me that he comes back, when there are so many others in this country who would love the opportunity. He’s already lost 142 pounds at home, so he clearly has a handle on it. We’ll see if he can change my mind. Starting weight: 312 pounds.
Danny: 39 yo land surveyor/musician. 5’11”. Second chance: he previously lost weight and gained it back. His family wants him to be more healthy. Rock star at 17. Starting weight: 430 pounds.
Dina: 28 yo custodian. 5’5″. Second chance: gained weight while pregnant with her son. Her doctor said her weight is preventing her from getting pregnant again. Starting weight: 253 pounds.
Julio: 40 yo mortgage loan officer. 6’0″. Second chance: To help him with his job and to be an example for his wife and kids. Starting weight: 407 pounds.
Liz: 47 yo salesperson. 5’7″. Second chance: to have energy to play with the 9 grandkids and to be healthier for her husband who had bypass surgery. Starting weight: 267 pounds.
Mo: 56 yo youth mentor. 6’2″. Second chance: to be a role model for the kids he mentors and to prove that you can do anything you set your mind to. (oops, my participle is dangling… *blush*). Starting weight: 355 pounds.
Rebecca: 25 yo student/nanny. 5’6″. Second chance: previously lost weight and gained it again. Has been called fat all of her life. 235 by 14. (Yikes!) Starting weight: 279 pounds.
Rudy: 34 yo engineer. 6’4″. (Big ‘un!) Second chance: to be healthy for his kids and to be around to walk his daughters down the aisle. Starting weight: 442 pounds.
Sean: 29 yo youth pastor. 6’2″. Second chance: he is also a musician and losing weight will help him to succeed in that. 2 kids and one on the way. Starting weight: 444 pounds.
Shay: 30 yo social worker. 5’8″. Second chance: to be a better role model for her clients and help motivate them. Also, she grew up in foster care, while her homeless mother lost her battle with a heroine addiction. Starting weight: 476 pounds. (making her the single largest contestant, man or woman, to ever be on the show.)
Tracey: 37 yo homemaker. 5’2″. Second chance: gained a lot of pregnancy weight (4 kids! UGH!) and wants to be able to run with her Marine husband. Starting weight: (TBD – She’s still at the hospital.) (She gets helicoptered out for medical attention.)
Of course, Jillian and Bob are back. They are co-training this season. I’m not sure what that means. We’ll find out. And Ali is the host. Let the fun begin!
Ali greets them and gives them a challenge. They have to run a mile. The winner gets Immunity at this weeks weigh in. And pick a partner for the rest of the season. Both have immunity. Fatties are not happy. She stops them before they start so that Daniel can arrive. (Pause for 42 commercials). We’re back. Most are walking. Tracey “sprinted” up the hill. Then couldn’t run down the hill. Shay is last so far. Lots of encouraging each other so far. Daniel won. 14:20 for a mile. Not bad. Tracey is down. Mo is uber sweating and with the doctors. Shay is down. And she’s up. Tracey is still down. Medic is with her. Everyone is helping her. Carrying her. And she’s down again. (It’s really bad, but I’m giggling.) She can’t keep her eyes open. She on the table. Medics are everywhere. Just called the med-evac. Aaaaaand, she’s off to the hospital. (Pause for 37 commercials.)
We’re back. Tracey and Mo are still at the hospital, but still fine. They are picking partners now. Wait, 1 hour of bonding before partnering. Lots of tears. Lots of sad stories.
Partners are:
Daniel and Shay – orange team
Allen and Abby – green team
Amanda and Rebecca – pink team
Rudy and Dina – blue team
Antoine and Sean – red team
Liz and Danny – brown team
Alexandra and Julio – black team
Mo and Shay – purple team
Weigh ins! And enter Bob and Jillian. Jillian is already bitchy. Lots of tears. Lots of shots of Bob and Jillian looking astounded. More people over 400 pounds than any other season. Bob is horrified at the size of Shay. (*snort*).
Workouts! They all have body bugs. (I’ve checked – $275). Jillian is already yelling. Lots of sweat. Lots of flashed of gut. (EEK!). Tears. Oh, god. There are a lot of moobs this season. And WE HAVE PUKING!!! (ftw)
The trainers are cussing up a storm. “Make a choice. If you don’t choose to change, no one can help you.” From Jillian. Not bad.
Shay just wussed out of the work out. Probably not the best idea when Jillian is screeching at you during your first work out.
(42 more commercials. And a recap of the first hour.)
Back to Shay. Sobbing. B&J are ignoring her trying to get her to come back. She manned up, and went back in. And J is back in her face.
Mo is back. He was dehydrated, low blood sugar and low blood pressure. Red guy (Sean, I think) gave him the purple shirt and told him that Tracey is his partner and still in the hospital.
Trip to the doctor. Dr. H greets them and scares the crap out of them with medical stuff. CA Health and Longevity Institute for more tests. MRIs and X-Rays and blood tests and on and on. Again, scaring the crap out of the fatties. What diseases they have, their actual age versus their medical age. OMG. More tears. Followed by 57 more commercials.
Last chance workout, BITCH! Screaming, puking, sweating, grunting, pain, drama, falling. Julio smooched Jillian for dogging him. Hee. Bob: this group has a lot of emotional baggage. Ya think?? Waiting for Alexandra to belt J in the head with the weights.
Weigh in: (Oh, wait. More commercials.)
(I’m going to show amount of weight lost this week.)
Daniel -12 and Shay -17 (they have immunity)
Allen -19 and Abby -15 (WOW!)
Amanda -6 and Rebecca -18
Rudy -28 and Dina -8
Antoine -18 and Sean -22 (reminds me of Cartman) (WOW!)
Liz -10 and Danny -24
Alexandra -13 and Julio -13
Mo -19 and Shay – TBD (GO MO!)
There is a whole lot of BAD makeup going on this season. Oy! So far, I love Coach Mo. (GO MO!!) I hate Alexandra. Not loving Daniel right now. He’s cocky – like “I’ve done this before, you should listen to me”. I like the brown team. I like the green team. Not loving pink. Jury is still out on the rest.
Black team is below the yellow line. Alexandra and Julio. Alexandra is going home by a vote of 4-3!! Thank goat. Bitch is out of there. Transformation moment: lost 60 pounds at home. She looks pretty good. The makeup is still criminal. She wants to be at 180 by finale.
Oh, hello! Come on in and have a cup of tea with me.
I was brough up in a Catholic household. Church every weekend, Sunday school, confirmation, the whole works. It was fine then. It was all I knew. I’d look around at all the people and silently make disparaging comments about them in my mind. I didn’t know better.
When I finally started paying attention, I decided that I didn’t really like what they were saying. It wasn’t that they were saying anything different or new, it is just that I started having my own opinions that didn’t necessarily agree with theirs. I don’t think either opinion could be labeled right or wrong – just differing. I was my opinion that going to church was being preached AT, rather than preached TO. There were the commandments – you can’t do this or that. And obviously, murder and adultery are not good things. (Well, adultery might be, depending upon your own moral compass. I’m not judging. But murder? Still bad.)
Like many others, I consider myself to be more spiritual than religious. I still pray. I still believe there is something greater “up there”, or wherever. And it has crossed my mind more and more frequently that I might like to find a new church. Being the card-carrying lazy apathist (yes, I just made that up – you’re welcome) I am, I haven’t made the effort to go visit any churches to see if their philosophies more closely match mine.
To be clear – I am in no way saying that the Catholic belief system is bad or wrong. It just isn’t for me. I think we should all be able to practice any religion that works for us; worship at the altar that works best for you, and let me do the same.
Then, I see this headline in a Tweet from a local news station:
Maine’s Catholic churches plan a second collection weekend to help the referendum campaign to overturn the law recognizing gay marriages.
And that pisses me off to no end. I would have the same reaction regardless of the religion at the center of the story. While I can appreciate that this does not necessarily fall under the separation of church and state, what business is it of any church to get involve in this law?
This whole gay marriage thing and the opposition against it? It’s beyond my scope of comprehension as to WHY THE PHUCK IS IT ANYONE’S BUSINESS IF TWO PEOPLE WHO LOVE EACH OTHER GET MARRIED????????? We should celebrate MORE love in this world, not try to squelch it. If two people get married, it doesn’t affect my life in any way. I don’t care if they are gay or straight. And now for the church to get involved?? WHY? So, your beliefs may not be the same, so you have to make others’ beliefs wrong? How is that showing the love of a higher power?
And don’t even bring in “the Bible says it’s wrong” crap. This is NOT A RELIGIOUS ISSUE. It shouldn’t be a state issue. It shouldn’t be ANY issue. If these couples aren’t hurting you or themselves, leave them alone to be who they are.
Dear Catholic Church,
Stay out of it. Take care of your own house before you start finding fault with anyone else’s house. And that goes for all your brother religions as well. Just because you may not believe something doesn’t make it wrong. Isn’t there a “turn the other cheek” edict somewhere that should be followed?
I’ll get off my soapbox now. I’m a little dizzy from the altitude. I just think, again, that we should encourage love. Regardless of the form it takes.
*Maggie tried to stop me from writing this by walking on the keyboard and planting herself on my lap for a number of hours. She knew this would not sit well with folks. But since it is my blog, and my opinion, I’m okay with it.
Oh, hello! Come on in and have a glass of port with me.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.
Back Story: One of the very few perks of working at the Gas ‘n Sip is that sometimes we get tickets. To sporting events. For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you know that we had tickets to the Boston Red Sox for last evening. Now, I am, admittedly, not the biggest fan of baseball. It’s fairly boring. But, since I NEVER get offered a ticket, I thought it would be fun. There were 4 tickets. I got 1 and the other 3 went to Frank, the napkin dispenser filler, and Aubrey and Wesley, the co-chief gas Pumpers. Yep, me and the 3 boys get to hit the road for some baseball.
I rode down with Frank. He drives one of those froofy cars, FAST! I didn’t know that froofies went 80+ and got so close to the cars in front of them. 😮 What an exciting ride down. The Pumpers took Wesley’s car.
After that exciting ride, Frank and I stopped for 2 of these:
mmmm, beer
We finally go into the stadium, and these are our seats:
pavillion seats, first base line
Aubrey and Wesley were already there. Our seats? Rocked. We had servers. We didn’t need to schlep to the vendors. They came to us. I tried to take a picture of the menu, but it didn’t come out clearly. I could have gotten a lobster roll. Yum, right? $18.20. No. That is not a typo. Hotdog? $6.10. Energy drink? $8.10. French fries? $6.10. Um, no thank you. I’m good.
Here are some pictures of Fenway:
The Outfield
The Green Monster
The maintenance guys making the infield pretty again for the players
And here is a picture of the shmev in front of us with a truly tragic hat:
No, this isn’t one of the Pumpers. But it is truly tragic.
So, why am I freaking out? Well, the Pumpers found my blog. Wesley said, “That’s what you get for putting stuff out on the Interwebs”. Yeah, there is a HUGE difference between virtual strangers reading my deep dark secrets, and boys I see EVERY FRIGGIN DAY reading it. They don’t need to see when I write a post about me being lonely. They don’t need to hear me bitch about the Leg Jiggler – they KNOW the Leg Jiggler!!!
I’ve made a deal with them. They promise secrecy in exchange for free Blue Raspberry Slurpees. I countered that if the Slurpee machine really does go away, I would keep them in orange cheese-flavored food product if I move to the Nacho Bar or the Wiener Wheel. Deal.
So, you phuckers. I know you are reading this, and you know who you are. If I get back to the Gas ‘n Sip on Monday, and there is any indication of my having a blog and/or working at the G’nS, I will grab you both by the short hairs and make you scream like 12-year-old girls. MMMMKAY? (But if you made me a new, slammin’ Gas ‘n Sip name tag, I’d like to see it, please. 🙂 ) (Oh, and my girl Lesley, over at Um…What? would like one too, please.)
kthxbai
Oh hello! Just popping back in to ask a question. Have some Pop Rocks in honor of that.
Why is it that I KNOW the benefits of exercise and how good it is for you? I KNOW that I always feel better after exercising? The post-exercise fatigue? I like that too.
Then why is it that I am so loathe to do it? It’s too easy to just veg out on the sofa. Or read a book. Or sleep. What is it going to take to kick myself in the ass and exercise regularly?
Ideas welcome. 🙂
Oh hello! Sorry I haven’t been around for a while. Have some noodle salad.
Several years ago, when my brother Herb was still with Satan, we had all talked about learning to kayak and/or buying them. We went to a local sporting goods store which offered “outdoor sports training” and tried out some kayaks. Herb and I thought it was great fun. Satan decided she didn’t like to get wet. Or leave the house without showering and putting on a full face of make up. And doing her hair. She also didn’t like to sweat. So instead, we continued on with the same old thing – they would leave their house on weekends at around 2, after Satan had vacuumed (again), done at least 2 loads of laundry, had 1/2 pot of coffee, cleaned the stove, and gotten ready. Then they would swing by to pick me up, do Satan’s errands which she couldn’t seem to do during the week, and then go somewhere so Satan could drink we could eat.
I’m fully aware that I could have opted to do something else, but I like hanging out with Herb. And I like to go out to lunch on occasion too. But I was getting tired of always having to plan everything around alcohol. Drinking is also all well and good, but jeepers, can we do something else??
The last winter that Satan was around, I said that I thought it would be cool if we got snow shoes and got out and did something in the fresh air. Herb seemed into it, but Satan doesn’t like to be cold. *sigh*
Flash forward to this summer. Satan is gone. Herb is now with a lovely person. Let’s call her….Spice. (Get it? Herb and spice? No? hmmm…) Anyhoo, Spice has to work every other weekend. So Herb has some free time. He also got a bonus over the summer and invested in….. drum roll…. KAYAKS!! WOOT!!!
The first time we went this summer, we went to a little pond. We were both a little wobbly and tippy, but quickly got the hang of it, to some degree. Neither of us could paddle straight – or float straight for that matter! Being the lazy person that I am, my shoulders and arms were toast, very quickly. Then we went the next day, to a bigger pond. Still ridiculously sore, and uncoordinated, but we both realized that THIS was the way to spend sunny summer days. NOT sitting inside cleaning or running errands.
We’ve been a handful of times since that first weekend. Herb spends every other weekend with Spice. (still nothing? huh…). Each time, we get better and more confident and have tried larger ponds and lakes.
This past weekend? We decided to try THE BIG ONE! The lake everyone boats on. The lake our water supply comes from. The lake with more boats, jet skis, canoes and kayaks that we’d ever seen. On the busiest weekend of the summer. Yeah. Good thinking. *eye roll*
So we head out early. It’s a gorgeous sunny day. We have lunch and water and beer and lots and lots of sunscreen. We get there, put the kayaks in the water and set off. So far so good. “Hey cool, we should paddle around those islands!” “yeah, let’s do it on the way back” “k”.
It’s a bit rougher out there than we’ve seen, but nothing we can’t handle. We paddle up one side of the lake, looking at the ducks and trees and camps. We went for about an hour and a half. Then we stopped at a sand bar, where there were a lot of people sunning themselves or bringing in their boats to stop for lunch. We swam for a while, had lunch and rested.
Then we get back in to go further. Onward we go up further into the lake. There are a LOT of boats now and the wake is getting higher. But we pressed on. We traveled that way for about another hour-ish, then turned back. By this point, the waves were practically white-caps due to the number of boats going by. We were both exhausted, but kept going. We even went by a whole flock of tufted ducks. They looked almost like loons, but they were brown with tufts of feathers off the back of the head. 
This is the closest picture I can find. But the real ones were way prettier.
Almost back, we decide Hey! Let’s go across to the island! Yeah. From where we were, to get to the island, we had to go across “open” water, across the boat lane, across the jet ski lane. No protection of the shallower water. No protection of the shore. And off we went. For about 30 minutes we paddled. Hard. I lost feeling in my hands from gripping the oar. We both decided our shoulders were burning. Finally!! We made it. Um. Yeah. That was fun. Kinda. NOT.
The waves from the boats were pushing my boat into the shore and I almost got washed up onto the rocks. But halfway around the island, we discovered such calm water that we floated for a while then. We made our way back towards the car. We had to wait at the bridge for 5 or 6 boats to go under first, then we went under and back to the car. We were out for about 4 and a half hours. Whew!
Long day. But the weather was perfect. The exercise was great. The water was warm. We had a lot of fun. I did feel badly that after all of that, Herb had to drive down to Spice’s house for the evening. Spice lives about an hour +/- away. UGH. I was toast. I don’t know how he made it.
But the best part? After that adventure, we decided that we would be able to make it out to one of the coastal islands next summer. Ocean! There is a lovely restaurant out there that we could have lunch at. FUN!
Oh, and if you are wondering why Herb doesn’t go kayaking with Spice? It’s because she is not a strong swimmer and is a little bit afraid of it. I still think she would be fine and have a blast, but Herb doesn’t want to push her. She would have probably died out on THE BIG ONE with us, but the smaller ones would have been great for her.
So there you go. My new favorite thing to do. Kayak. If you have been kayaking before, you know. If you haven’t, and you have the opportunity, GO! You don’t really need to be a strong swimmer if you stay on the lakes and wear a life vest. (I consider myself a strong swimmer and still wear one, because you just never know what could happen.) Try it. You may find yourself with a new favorite thing to do, too.
Oh, hello! Have some tea. And sugar cookies.
I think it would be an affront to feet everywhere if I said what I have are feet. Or soles of my feet. No, I think it’s safe to qualify what I have as hooves.
These? are my feet. I’ll wait while you go hurl…
Back when I pretended to have money, I would get myself a pedicure every 2 weeks. It kept them soft and pretty. Then, when I realized that I really didn’t have money, that stopped. I bought the Ped-egg to scrape down the worst parts and, while I do like it, if you don’t do it very consistently, the hoof-ness can get away from you. Add to that that I prefer Dansko clogs (mostly due to my foot issues – I would love to wear hot sexy heels all the time. Alas, tooties aren’t cooperating). These shoes are unbelieveably comfortable, but they are conducive to calluses. I even bought something called “Crack Creme” but mostly due to the fact that the name made me giggle.
Tonight, I broke out the big guns. Bag Balm. And socks. I don’t know if it will work, but I’m desperate. If anyone has any other suggestions, I’m willing to give them a try!
Oh, hello! Have a mini-cupcake. They’re fresh.
What has happened to customer service? Back in the day, store employees would actually say “Thank you” or “Thank you for shopping here”. At the very least, they might make small talk with the customer, ask about their day. Dealing with service people by phone used to be less of a chore. They would attempt to resolve your issue, without putting you on hold 5 times, all while speaking clearly.
I stopped at the grocery store on the way home this evening. I picked up a rotisserie chicken (LOVE those!!), some fruit, bread, and frozen veggies. At the checkout, I was not greeted by the cashier. I was not acknowledged. I was given the total. And then…. she packed the groceries. Bag #1: fruit ON the bread. Bag #2: frozen veggies with the HOT FROM THE OVEN chicken. Yes. She put the hot stuff and the cold stuff in the same bag. That takes stupid to a whole new level. What the heck is wrong with people? In what universe would that ever be considered appropriate? Or sane?
Then before I left, I didn’t get the “Thank you for shopping here” or “Have a nice day” or even the ever-irritating “Have a good one”. No, no. Insult added to injury, after she started the melting of the veggies, she was talking to another cashier about her weekend. Um, really? Who raised you? How does one learn to be that rude? And how does one go about NOT acquiring common sense.
Listen, you are in a SERVICE POSITION. This means you DEAL WITH PEOPLE. If you don’t like to do that, great. Go find a job where you don’t have to interact with customers. I did it. The Slurpee manager doesn’t actually have to deal with customers. And trust me, we’re all happier for it. The Chip-Bag Fluffer? He has to deal with customers. He’s good at it, and likes to do it. Good for him. The point is this. If you work with the public, be polite. Have a smile on your face. Pretend to like your job. That’s what you get paid to do. IT’S YOUR JOB. Each interaction takes less than 5 minutes, usually. Suck it up.
And for Goat’s sake, DON’T PACK HOT FROM THE OVEN CHICKEN IN THE SAME BAG AS THE FROZEN STUFF. ASSHAT.
Oh, hello! We’re having Mediterranean Veggie Sammies today – with cilantro hummus. Have one.
Do you wish? Not just on birthday candles, or about big things. I mean about anything. Do you ever find yourself saying “I wish I could…”?
Reading the lovely Jose’s blog (found at http://www.fabergemonkey.com/) I found myself thinking, “I wish I could write poetry. It doesn’t even have to be lovely poetry.” I’ve said in the past: I wish I could…
- speak French
- run without my knees hurting
- lose 5-, 10-, 25-, 50-pounds
- live in Paris
- save money
- blah blah blah
I guess the real thing I have to ask myself is “Why can’t I…” I’ll tell you why. I can’t because I think I can’t. I bet if I changed it to “I am going to…”, that after a few false starts, I would be doing whatever it is I put my mind to.
I wish it were Friday. I wish it were sunny. I wish I had a better/different/easier/more challenging job. I wish I had bought that bag/shirt/wallet/perfume. I wish it were 5pm. I wish I could drink/stop drinking/smoke/stop smoking.
Does any of that sound like you? What are we waiting for? Why are we wishing our lives away?
On the other hand, does wishing give you hope? Is it a form of prayer? Does it give you something to look forward to? Or does it deny hope by reminding you of what you don’t have? What you lack? What you only think you want – regardless if it is really the best thing for you?
Do you wish?
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