Some food for thought...

... because I ponder strange things at 3am.

- When you're at home alone, do you shut the bathroom door while you pee?
- What language do you think in?
- Which pant leg do you put on first?
- What side of the bed do you sleep on? This still applies to those of us who are single and have that big ol' bed all to ourselves...
- What's the first thing you take care of when you get in the car? Seatbelt or radio?

I may have a serious hero complex, but make no mistake... I am NO damsel in distress.

An Open Letter to the Safeway by My House

Dear Safeway,

Why do you and your staff insist on torturing me with your incompetence? Why is it that a trip to visit you never takes less than 30 minutes, even at 11pm when all I'm purchasing is milk and lotion and there is only one other customer in the store? What is the point of having 10 registers if you'll only ever have 2 of them open at any given point in time? Why is it that you only seem to hire employees who have had little to no human interaction in their lives, causing them to be stiff and awkward when placed in a customer service position?

So here's the deal, in no particular order or organization: I don't care to hear your staff arguing with each other. It makes the customer uncomfortable when they have to be subjected to coworkers who very clearly don't enjoy each other's company and are on a point of disagreement with each other... Please please PLEASE, for the love of God, open up more registers during "normal" shopping hours. One regular line and one express line, contrary to what you may believe, is not enough. And this should be evident to you when the lines snake down into the shopping aisles... I don't know what you teach in your customer service trainings, but I sincerely doubt there is a unit on "leering at female customers as they try to shop." Yes, there is a reason I avoid walking by the butcher area... If a customer is trying to purchase a gift card, and the credit card he's using to pay for it keeps getting declined, please allow the young lady behind him (who is only buying milk and lotion) to be checked out ahead of him. I swear, my milk could've gone sour in the time I stood there waiting for this man to give you his credit card number over and over and over again. I'm surprised I didn't memorize it. Then to listen to him berate his wife and blame her for the card being declined - well, that was just the icing on the cake... I know you're trying to personalize the whole grocery shopping experience, but please don't try to pronounce my last name when you hand me my receipt. It is long and ethnic. By trying to be personal, adds another 2 minutes to my trip as you try to read it in the first place, then I have to suffer through listening to you mispronounce it. I know people will mispronounce it anyway, but sometimes I don't want to bother hearing it butchered.

That's all for now. I'm tired, and I'm constantly reminded of why I always shop at Giant.

Sincerely,
Me

When did they start giving crossing guards the authority to direct traffic against a light?

Was I in a census interview that I wasn't aware of?

Just after walking out of a meeting that was behind closed doors, I run into a superintendent that works for us, who I've never seen before...

Me: Hello...
Super: Hi, how are you?
Me: I'm good, and yourself?
Super: I'm doing just fine. Nationality, please?
Me: blank stare

Expand Your Mind!

I understand that there is a large percentage of the human population out there that is not capable of thinking "outside the box." And people act like doing that is so difficult, but it's really simple, actually.

I used to work with a woman who was completely incapable of learning new things or doing any work outside of what she had been doing for the last 5 years. It was like she was a robot - programmed to do only one task, and any upgrades would be incompatable with her software. Never did I think I'd meet someone who aggravated me as much as she did on that point... until this weekend.

So A.D. and I were headed up to Baltimore for a baseball game. We were planning on staying there for the night, so I was going to leave my car at her place. Apparently, her community is cracking down non-residents leaving their cars overnight, so now you have to register your vehicle with the desk, which entails the desk person signing a permit that you leave in your windshield. Okay... fine. I can get down with that. I go in and ask the woman at the desk for a permit to leave my car overnight. She looks at me for a second like I have 3 heads, and then goes searching for them.

Desk: It looks like we don't have any more...
Me: Okay... so do I just sign something in the book or can you make new ones?
Desk: No, we don't have any more here... Let me see if I can find them.
She starts slowly moving around the desk area, arbitrarily lifting pieces of paper and pushing stacks around.
Desk: No, looks like there are none left.
She stands there staring at me.
Me: Umm... So what am I supposed to do then? You don't have a master copy that you can just photocopy and give me?
Desk: (staring blankly at me) No, let me call over to the other building and see if they have some.
Me: Well, we're kind of in a hurry here... We're late for an event (which we were).
She calls the other building, who does happen to have some one-day passes, then tells them that she's sending a resident over to pick them up... i.e. me and A.D. When we come back with them, I notice that they say that my car has to be gone by 9am the next day, which is obviously not going to happen.

Me: I was looking at these and they say that I have to be gone by 9am... Is that 9am tomorrow morning?
Desk: Yes.
Me: Well, I'm not going to be able to leave before 9am.
Desk: Well tomorrow morning, just come downstairs before 9 and we'll give you a new one.
Me: No, we're leaving and not coming back here until tomorrow afternoon. I'm not going to be here to get a new pass from you.
Desk: Ohhh... Well, I don't know then. You should've told me that before.
Me: Well, "before" I didn't know that the permit would expire at 9am. I thought it would be a 24 hour permit.
Desk: Well I thought she (pointing at A.D.) knew.
Me: How is she supposed to know if this is new and she's never had to get a pass before?? Can't you just cross out the time and put a "12pm" on there or something?
Desk: No, I'll get fired if I do that.
Come on now... Really? I seriously doubt she'll get fired for allowing me to park an extra 3 hours.
Me: Are you serious? Holy cow. Well can you just give me 2 passes, then? One for today and one for tomorrow, and I can put them both in my window?
Desk: No, management won't allow that.
Me: You gotta be kidding me...
Desk: Let me call the other building again and see if they have 2 week passes...
Me: No, forget it. We don't have time to drive over to the other building, nor do I need a 2 week pass. This is ridiculous. We'll just take my car...

We were taking A.D.'s car because she had just filled her tank with gas, and mine has been acting up. But anyway, I wish you could've been there for all of this, because this narrative doesn't even BEGIN to describe how aggravating it was dealing with this woman. We could've solved everything in one of two ways:
1.) Ask the person in the other building to give you some of each kind of pass, not just a stack of one-day passes or
2.) JUST GIVE ME 2 PASSES TO PUT IN MY WINDSHIELD!

I mean, really. Are they REALLY going to fire you for giving me an extra pass to park for an extra few hours?? Who stays somewhere overnight and is gone by 9am anyway??? The point is that this woman in no way tried to think of any solution to the situation. It was like she couldn't see past the "by the book" procedures... no way to bypass her programming. I swear, I don't know how Natural Selection has weeded all of these people out...

The Last Woman on Earth

It's Friday at 4:00pm... and everyone has left the office.

Okay, I lie. Not EVERYONE has left the office - just everyone in my particular office suite area. I feel like the last woman on Earth. It's oddly silent, except for this bizarre rattling that I hear coming from somewhere in the wall. It's really driving me nuts because I can't pinpoint the source, nor can I tell what it could be. So I've decided to turn up the Pandora to drown out both the rattling and the lack of voices.

One of our programs is down, which has severly cut my productivity... Not a bad thing, as my brain stopped functioning properly a few hours ago. Potentially, I could leave, but I know that the minute I shut my computer down and start heading out, my phone will start ringing or someone from down the hall will find me with something they need ASAP.

("ASAP"... I hate that acronym. I don't even like using it, because it has an odd connotation. I mean, people read it, and automatically think "rush." But it stands for, "as soon as possible." I see it in emails and letters to me several times a day. I know the author means "rush" or "right now." But I take it for what it really means. And, dagnabit - yes, I said that - if it's not possible right this minute, then it's going to wait until it is possible. Because that's what that means, right? "As soon as possible?" As far as I'm concerned, if the time that is "possible" for me isn't the time you need it by, then you should've been more specific.)

I just read back what I've written so far, and why the hell am I being so damned proper? I mean, I know I'm not being totally gramatically correct, but this is my GD blog. What ever happened to me just writing shit??? I'm supposed to just let it spew forth, right? Well, I'm over work and I want to leave and get my weekend started, so I'm really gonna turn my brain off and write the way I talk. Fuck it. And, yeah, for those of you who don't know me, I cuss. A LOT. Get used to it, or find a computer that'll put that little black rectangle over all of my fuckin' cuss words.

Oh jeez... I hear someone walking down the hall towards me, and it sounds like they have purpose. DAMMIT!

I need a money tree, stat.

Dear Blogger,

Thank you for finally making my pictures visible to the world!

Sincerely,
Me

Dear Blogger,

Why are you denying people the joy of viewing my photos? Did I do something to offend you??

Sincerely,
Me

This weekend in pictures...

On Saturday, I went to this party at an art gallery with Christina... Lots of fun, I must say! It was a total departure from my normal weekend party-ish activities. While there, we saw an art exhibit that was pretty interesting... I don't know what you'd call the exhibit, but everything was in Ziploc bags. And it was all for sale, the cheapest piece of "artwork" being $50. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I really don't understand some art. And when I say "some" art, I really mean MODERN art. One bag was filled with creamed spinach and there was another bag that was just filled with helium... and it was selling for $100. So not only do I not understand modern art, but I also do not understand how this particular gallery decided on the prices for these pieces. There were several items that were really intriguing to me, but definitely nothing I'd pay $100 for. Maybe it's just because I'm broke. Anyway, the most interesting piece of artwork, to ME, was what we saw outside after we left:



Today was Indonesian Independence Day, but I totally forgot. I know. It's terrible. But I honestly didn't even know what today's date was until I looked at my phone at half past midnight on - today - the 18th. Anyway, I spent most of my afternoon at National Airport, waiting for some friends who I was picking up. They were to land in Terminal A and I realized that I'd never been in that terminal before... at least, not in any recent years. There was something about it that seemed oddly familiar to me, and I wonder if I'd been there many many years ago in my childhood. All indications are that it's the oldest part of the airport, and furthest away from the Metro exit. But I really liked it there. I'm referring more specifically to the area between Terminals A and B, where the Exhibition Hall is:



It was old and quiet and nostalgic, and you could watch the planes take off and land. I really liked it there. I could spend hours there, just in thought. I know that sounds weird, but the room kind of took me to a place far away... I don't know how to explain it. Anyway, you see how empty it was, so it was a good place to be alone with your thoughts without being locked up in some little room. I may even try and find more excuses to escape there.

How come...

... when you're in a hurry to get somewhere, you hit nothing but red lights on the way to your destination? But when you're trying to do something while driving, like EAT, it's smooth sailing through every traffic light along the way??

The Rick Astley Channel

Boy, did I hit the 80s JACKPOT with the Rick Astley channel!!! Featured artists include, but are not limited to:

- The Cars
- Tears for Fears
- Mr. Mister
- the Thompson Twins
- Deniece Williams
- Jon Secada

Yeah, I'm a nerd, I admit. But I've just gotten a little tired of rap and whatnot lately. I don't even know what these folks are rapping about anymore.

Ex. Lil Wayne in the "Crying Out for Me" remix:

So I met this shawty the otha day
I got her numba called her up like what u doin
She say nothin
I say what's good?
She say not much
I say guess what
She say wassup
I say I think we should hook up
She say uhhh...
I say what?
She say but...
I say but... ?
Why u stuck?
She say ****
I say who?
She say not you
I say then who
She say you know
I know what?
You know who
I say I do?
She say you do

Trust me, it sounds stupid in the song.

Pandora Rocks!... but I wish it could read my mind.

So I listen to Pandora at work, and I love it. Sure, maybe I'm not supposed to be streaming radio or whatever else here, but they haven't blocked it yet and I'm sick of the commercials on the radio, so I use it. The only problem I initially had with Pandora is that, you put in your favorite artist or song, and it creates a "channel" of songs and artists that are similar so that you always hear something you like. Sounds great, except that I have really eclectic taste in music. I'll pretty much listen to anything (and I mean, ANYTHING) except country music. So I ended up creating, like, 6 different channels to address all of my moods. Well, I finally found the button that says "QuickMix," which plays a mix of all of your created channels. Yeah, it was right there in front of my face. I never said I was a genius.

Anyway, I will admit that I love a lot of 80s music and adult contemporary stuff... so I created a "Phil Collins" channel because I love him. That particular channel always pleases me with it's mix of Phil Collins, Sting, Simply Red, and many others. Sadly (and you can take the word "sad" for all it's possible meanings here), I've been waiting for them to pull out some Rick Astley and I haven't been getting it. I know, I know. Rick Astley isn't anything special. I think he had, maybe, 3 hits back in the day. But I guess I've just been waiting to hear that mediocre 80s pop. I wonder what it would come up with if I created a Rick Astley channel... Hmmmm... To Be Continued.

I guess there really IS someone for everyone...

I was at my parents' house, and my mom happened to be watching We TV... She likes those channels that are clearly geared towards women. Anyway, they have this show called "Rich Bride, Poor Bride," where they showcase the planning of a couple's wedding and go over their budgets. I happened to walk in on episode with a particularly abrasive bride. Here's some choice dialogue between bride (B) and groom (G)...

While spray painting fans that would become guest favors
G: So how do I do this?
B: Are you seriously asking me how to spray a can of paint? Do you really not know how to do this? I mean, it doesn't take a college degree to spray paint something...

While purchasing umbrellas for the bridesmaids, after the groom was 30 minutes late... The bride wants to buy 5 of the exact same umbrella, in different colors.
G: Why are you buying all of those? You only need one...
B: No, because I haven't made a decision on which one I want yet.
G: Yeah, but that's a waste. You can't just waste money like that.
B: Yes, I can, because I haven't chosen which one I want yet, and I'm going to buy them all because you really upset me by being late today.

While sitting with the wedding planner (WP) to discuss the fact that they're going over their budget
WP: Now, there seem to be a lot of little expenses that are causing you guys to start to reach the max on your budget... You might need to cut back on some things that may be unnecessary.
B: Well, I made it clear to both of you that this is MY wedding and I'm going to spend whatever I need to spend to make it my perfect day.
WP: I understand that, but you guys need to be on the same page. Tony (the groom) is paying for all of this stuff, and it's his wedding, too...
B: But it's MY wedding, and I want everything to be perfect...
G: No, it's OUR wedding, and we need to come to an agreement on these things, and the spending is getting out of hand... I want us to have some money for our future, too.
B: Fine, then do you want our guests to just eat on paper plates? Because that's what we'll do then. I'm not giving up the things that I want.

B (in an aside to the camera): A budget is just a budget. It's not set in stone and I'm going to spend all the money it takes to get what I want.
They later show her buying "Moulin Rouge" themed outfits for her bridal party at her bachelorette night... totaling over $425, which she charged to the groom's credit card.

The bride apparently wants a "signature shot" to be served at the bar at her reception. They go to a mixologist to create it, and they try some samples.
G: (after the 2nd sample) I like this one, this is good.
B: No, that's nasty...
G: I think the guests will really like it.
B: I don't care. I don't like it.
G: But you're not the only one who will be drinking it.
B: Are you not listening to me? I said, I DON'T CARE. Do you hear the words that are coming out of my mouth? I. DON'T. CARE.

At the actual ceremony, there were fountains that were supposed to start up during their wedding kiss, but they didn't go off. She declares, while still standing at the altar in front of the priest, "The fountains didn't go off!!!" I know that a wedding is really important. As a woman, I know that you want everything to be perfect. And I've seen some serious bridezillas on TV before, but I've never seen a woman who treated her wedding like such a show before. I mean, usually, the woman ultimately realizes that it is a ceremony where she is bonded to the man she loves. The whole time, all she was concerned about was the logistics and her tiara and her big princess dress. Ultimately, they went almost $10,000 over budget (which, I must say is RIDICULOUS), but she obviously didn't care. I am astounded that she found a man to marry her... So I guess there really is someone for everyone.

What's the deal???

I will admit that I am geriatric in several ways. Sure, my hip clicks when I walk sometimes... and I knit... and I bake cookies... and I look forward to trips to Pennsylvania Dutch Country. But physically, I AM a young woman, most people will admit that I look years younger than I really am (I'm well over 21 and I've been carded at rated R movies before). However, it's become quite obvious to me over the past year that old men LOVE ME. I mean, they LOVE me. I'll give you 3 prime examples.

Exhibit A: I was at a bar one night, and there were these 2 old men there... When I say "old," I mean over the age of 65. I suppose they were regulars. The waitresses seemed to know them. Anyway, they BOTH hit on me at some point during the night, asking me to dance, dancing around me, etc. I didn't score AT ALL with any men remotely close to my age... just the old guys.

Exhibit B: I'm not too proud to say I did a stint on Match.com. Well part of the reason I terminated my membership was because most of the men "winking" at me were of age 45 or older. Really? WTF?

Exhibit C: I went to the Redskins' preseason game today, and upon arrival, some guy was literally YELLING down to me from the 200 level, telling me that he loves beautiful women who are Redskins fans and that I should come up to his skybox and everything will be on him... and that he had a friend for my friend. He continued the yelling for a few minutes, I suppose to try and convince me to come up, and then finished by saying, "Ask me who I am!" I have no idea what that was supposed to mean, but he was no one I recognized. And even if he were, that is really no way to address a woman.

In addition to this, I've been leered at at bars, on the street, at the store, at the movies, etc., all by men who are considerably older than me... or who at least LOOK considerably older than me. And as I apparently look like a teenager to most people, wouldn't that make these men, like, pedophiles for ogling a girl who appears so young? What is wrong with guys my age? Am I not releasing the right pheromones? I mean, really now... I'm starting to think that my lot in life IS to have a sugar daddy. Maybe I should embrace my destiny... LOL.

2008 Summer Olympics - It Begins

I just finished watching the opening ceremonies of the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing and OH. MY. GOD. I don't think any other country will ever be able to pull off topping that one. It was absolutely breathtaking... and I don't ever use the word "breathtaking." From beginning to end, it was a completely amazing spectacle. The choreography, the colors, the art, the innovation... the VISION.

I was immediately amazed when they started with 2,008 drummers (literally, two thousand and eight people), using drums that lit up to do the countdown. I was baffled at how they were able to get 2,008 people to move in perfect unison. Little did I know that there would be a total of 15,000 performers moving in equally perfect unison to pull off a show that is completely beyond compare. The theme was "harmony," and everything about the ceremony portrayed that. If there was ever any doubt that that many people could work so well together, this evening removed all of those doubts.

The only thing more amazing than the ceremony itself was the final vision of all of the athletes on the infield. I mean, the Olympics have always symbolized world unity, but I think I'm finally old enough and mature enough to really appreciate it, and for it to really touch me. Think about it: it's representatives from practically the entire world, standing together, enjoying the exact same moment for the exact same reason, even if only for an hour. It's an exercise in peace, and although they are all ultimately in competition, there is no malice. It's a heartwarming moment that I was sad to see come to an end, but it is only the beginning of weeks of that feeling. While the Olympics and politics sometimes must intersect, I believe that the Olympics is still the one event that can find a way to transcend worldly issues, if so allowed.

So it's possible. It's possible to find commonality in those who seem so different from ourselves. It's possible to, if only for an instant, forget that we're enemies and celebrate what makes us the same... what we actually love about each other, despite everything. There's a lesson to be learned here for all of us - myself included.

Dang doctors...

So I thought I broke my foot. I say "thought" because my right foot is paralyzed and I can't feel much of anything. However, I tripped on it and a few days later, I noticed some really bad bruising and odd discolorations. I wear an AFO (ankle-foot orthotic) that helps me walk and basically immobilizes my foot. I didn't originally go to the doctor because I already have the brace, and I figured that, if my foot was broken, they wouldn't cast it up anyway. Well, after I noticed the bruising, thought a check up was in order.

ANYWAY, I go to the doctor's office for my 1145 appt, which I was a good 10 minutes early for. The doctor didn't actually SEE me until 1300 (that's 1pm)... Yeah, I waited over an hour to be seen by the doctor. I mean, come on. What is the point of making an appointment if something like that is going to happen??? Well, I get in there, and after he abuses my foot, he tells me I need to get X-rays, but they don't have an X-ray machine in house... So now I have to go to a radiology center to get it done. And the place closes at 1630. I have to leave work 1.5 hours early in order to get there before they close... And THEN he wants me to come back THE NEXT DAY to look at the X-rays. I get all that crap done, come back and see him (mind you, I have to pay the copay both times, so I've now wasted $30, not including parking because they don't validate), and he tells me that my foot is fine... no breaks, no sprains. And even if it were broken, he says, they just would've used my brace to immobilize it rather than casting it up.

Great. So basically, I've now spent $30+ and 3.5 hours on a diagnosis that I gave myself a week ago. Complete waste of time. And people wonder why I self-diagnose.

I'm old

I was just talking to Nick about how my new nephew doesn't know how to laugh yet, and my mind jumped to why we always feel the need to tickle children. Then I thought about how, when I am tickled now, I just feel like beating up whoever it is that's tickling me so that he/she will stop.

So when did tickling become un-funny to me? Whenever you tickle kids (or at least all the kids I know), they ALWAYS laugh. When did I stop laughing at being tickled? Now if you tickle me, I'll still giggle, but I'm just likely to slap you. Not in a malicious way, mind you... just to get you to stop. It's almost instinctive. Maybe not a slap. Sometimes a punch. Or a kick, depending on whether I'm sitting or standing.

Anyway, that's my thought for the day. Stupid, I know.

I'm enormous

So I'm about 4' 10/11"... I can pull off 5'0" on a good day. So I'm obviously not tall by any means. Hell, I'm not even close to average height. I'm generally considered short, even when in a room full of short people! But sometimes, on the odd occasion, I have a tall day. Have you ever had one of those? I feel regular at the moment, sitting down, but every time I get up, I feel taller than I normally am. The file cabinets seem a little shorter. The sinks feel a little lower. I feel tall!

Of course, the feeling ends when I stand next to someone who is of average height, but it's a nice feeling, however fleeting.

Have you ever had a tall day? I know you have!