How come I didn't know this until today?
I will be paying $10 bucks to get to work and back.
Not only is BART fare going up, but my mom said PG&E rates are going up, and our condo HOA just increased too. What's next?
And the fun thing about all this "going up" business is that I'm going to be paid less per paycheck starting 2006. No, no, I didn't get a decrease in my pay, we're just going on a different pay schedule.
Maybe now is the time to allow those adsense google ads things on my blog?
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Add tote bags....I mean cat beds to my list of craftiness
I finally finished my tote bag I started a long time ago. I learned many things in the process, and I think I can now make a really great one that doesn't look so Frakensteinish.
Zoe, on the other hand, thinks my new tote bag makes one fine looking cat bed.
Zoe, on the other hand, thinks my new tote bag makes one fine looking cat bed.
Resolutions
I make resolution each new year. Last year my resolution was to learn how to relax and take my time with things instead of being totally neurotic about getting stuff done. I think I achieved that to some level.
For 2006 my resolutions are:
For 2006 my resolutions are:
- Lose all the weight I've gained and then some.
- Start going back to the gym on a regular basis and do yoga at home.
- Learn to make more things by sewing and become a better sewer.
- Do as much as I can to our tiny kitchen to make it look more up-to-date, including buying a new range and microwave, refinishing cupboard doors, replacing faucet, tiling floor.
- Paint our bedroom, bathrooms, kitchen (see 4).
- Go on a well-deserved vacation as our funds permit (tax refund! I hope...).
- Support my hubby in finding a new job.
- Become pain-free for a few months, somehow, anyhow, doesn't matter how.
- Learn Adobe Flash and become proficient with Adobe Illustrator.
- Continue to have fun whenever I want.
I have many other things I'd like to resolve to do, but I think that's enough. I always have big plans, but seeing them through is another story.
Some things above are a given -- I will do them no matter what, and some things will need a brain adjustment (like losing weight -- but I did it before, I can do it again).
Happy New Year!!! See you in 2006.
Friday, December 30, 2005
The nightmare that is known as Kaiser Pharmacy
I spent about 2 hours at the Fremont Kaiser Pharmacy last night. I needed to get a prescription filled, and because of my doctor being out for a over a week (I did not know this until yesterday, when I finally called to confirm that my suspicions were correct), another doctor giving a new prescription number, and no one informing me of what was going on (I had to call the 1-888 Kaiser line to talk to a customer service rep), I had to hightail it to the pharmacy after work to submit my prescription request by letting them know I was there.
This whole process still baffles me, so this time I went into the "drop-off" line to let them know I was there, and the lady looked at me like I was crazy, swiped my Kaiser card after I said something about a prescription getting filled, and she said they'd call my name. I knew I was in for a long wait, probably an hour tops, so I ran to the bathroom and then came back to get settled with my book.
The past two times I've had to get my refill this way instead of through the mail, I was put through different processes. The first time I went through the regular line, was told they're filling it now, and I would be called when it was ready. This happened. Didn't take too long, and I got to skip the long regular line. The second time, I did the same thing, was given a slip of paper and that was that. I didn't know if I was going to be called, or if my name would be on the board or what. So I waited and waited and waited, and it hit about an hour later and my name popped up on the board. I got back in the regular line to pay for my prescription.
So last night I figured my name would pop up on the board. And if not, then someone would call me. But I was betting on being called. Thirty minutes, then an hour....Nothing. So I got back in line and told the guy that my name hasn't been called nor was my name on the board, but it's been over an hour. He looked up my name and then started scribbling stuff on a piece of paper. He said he'd call me. So I sat for another 20-30 minutes. My name was finally called.
During this fun time at the pharmacy, I got to witness several bizarre human interactions. The first weird one involved myself, and it wasn't so much weird as just plain annoying. Like a BART story annoying. Out of all the seats to sit in, this lady who smelled like garlic or some other seasoning, decided sitting next to me and using the arm rest I was using (we both get two, I was there first, you use your other arm rest, lady) while talking of the phone was the best idea ever. Not only did she smell weird and I really wanted to move but decided not to because I'd just end up next to another annoying person, and not only was she using the same arm rest so it looked like we knew each other well, but she was leaning towards me while talking on her cell phone, which was planted on her ear next me. Yet again, another person who feels the need to talk next to a person who wants to read. Luckily she was talking in another language. Since I couldn't understand her, her talking was just white noise. And I do love my white noise.
Then there was the man who couldn't speak English very well, but insisted on driving this older white couple crazy with his questions they couldn't understand. He was almost hostile. Like he was the king of the world, and these two wrinkly and shaky old folks were brought to him for his amusement. It started off with the older man wearing a Nebraska jacket. For the University. Which is bright red and not hard to miss. The man started asking him if he likes Nebraska, and after many, "whats," they got that he was asking about the school or team, I'm not sure which. The older man made the folly of saying he lived there. This got the other man all wild and crazy with questions for some reason, asking him if they know and like certain people. Finally the older lady took control and said she's a Californian native and he hasn't been to Nebraska for 20 years.
Okay.
Then the man started asking them what sounded like, "How are you?" The older man kept saying "what?" until he thought he got it, so he said, "I'm fine." The man got all crazed and said again, "How are you???!!!" The older lady realized he was asking how old they were. And instead of letting her answer, the other man started guessing. He basically made them 10 years older than they were (the older lady was in her late 60's, the older man was in his early 70's). The older lady set him straight again. Then the man got really ballsy and asked, "Do you drive well?" At this point I was getting really bothered by him and his lack of respect for this couple, so I stopped pretending to read and was getting ready to interject if he got too familiar with them (which, really, in my opinion, he already did).
Luckily, the older couple was saved by weirdo man by having their name pop up on the screen. They both got up and moved slowly towards the line. All the while, the man kept batting stupid questions at them. The older lady kept saying over and over and over that they have to get in line, in hopes the guy would just shut up.
I think the older lady realized she couldn't stand in the line because of her health, so she came back to the seats, but this time sat right next to me. Which was far away enough from weirdo man that she could ignore him without it being totally obvious. I felt for her. She wasn't a mean older lady, so what was she supposed to do? I'd protect her. If I had too. Eventually they met up with another older man that they knew, and he protected them from weirdo man. He even took them home. The older couple took a cab because it would be too dark to drive when they were finished with their Kaiser fun.
Then there were all the people who felt they didn't need to stand in line. This one lady (who also barely spoke English -- I think I'm going to go to France and try the "I barely speak French, so I can cut in lines" way of living, and then get bashed by une baguette on the head by some angry French person, maybe even have des fromage tossed at my face...) decided that she didn't have to stand in line to 1. submit her prescription, and 2. to pick it up. She placed her child in the corner of the pharmacy (literally), looked a bit forlorn at the line, stood at the end of it for 2 seconds, and then wandered to the front where she started trying to explain that she traveled far and wide to get to the Fremont Kaiser Pharmacy. Oh yea? I came from San Francisco, get back in line!!!! (Not to mention I was being completely forgotten about). After much discussion about how lines work, she frantically walked back to the line and took her spot back. Yes, the 2 second spot. She said something in broken English that no one near her understood, and everyone near her just gave up and let her do it. See, if this was France...les baguettes would be flying!! Les fromage slice in the face -- slappity, slap-slap! Her kid took himself out of the corner and stood with her, blocking everyone's way with his overweight body. He was better off in the corner.
Another lady tried the same thing, and what got me was that she stood in the pick up line to drop off her prescription, and then went to the drop-off line to pick it up. By this time I was sitting in the front row waiting for my name to be called, and she was right next to me with her two kids. The younger one started screaming her head off while she waited. I gave her a hard, yet somewhat friendly stare (probably just looked scary), and she stopped screaming for a bit.
When she was called up to the next register accepting drop-offs, she said her name was on the board. The guy told her to get in line. She acted dumb, like she didn't understand and said her name was on the board. He told her again that he wasn't going to help her -- that she had to get in line. She then became instantaneously crafty and said what if she got in line and he ended up helping her, isn't that the same thing? (Side note: At this point in their conversation, he could have just helped her to get her out of the pharmacy, and it would have taken less time than him trying to explain that she just cut in front of all the people in line. However, being a person who spent many a year in retail, I know the principal of the matter, and you just have to force customers to do what's correct instead of them finagling their way into being helped.) He told her that if she got in line, and he was the next available cashier when she was in front, he would help her, but he wasn't going to help her right now. Then he called the next person to him, which means: I've shut the customer door on you, lady, now get your ass back in line with your screaming kids.
At about this point I was called, and I got to get myself out of there. When the lady was ringing me up, I noticed the guy wrote something on the slip he gave the pharmacist the 2nd time I went through the line. Call me crazy, but I think he wrote "hardcore." Maybe it's cause I've seen him a million times now. And that I'm willing to sit in the pharmacy like an idiot for hours. I don't know. I don't even know if that's what he wrote. I'm just a bit paranoid now that I'm a Kaiser Pharmacy regular. Maybe I should start a Kaiser blog.
This whole process still baffles me, so this time I went into the "drop-off" line to let them know I was there, and the lady looked at me like I was crazy, swiped my Kaiser card after I said something about a prescription getting filled, and she said they'd call my name. I knew I was in for a long wait, probably an hour tops, so I ran to the bathroom and then came back to get settled with my book.
The past two times I've had to get my refill this way instead of through the mail, I was put through different processes. The first time I went through the regular line, was told they're filling it now, and I would be called when it was ready. This happened. Didn't take too long, and I got to skip the long regular line. The second time, I did the same thing, was given a slip of paper and that was that. I didn't know if I was going to be called, or if my name would be on the board or what. So I waited and waited and waited, and it hit about an hour later and my name popped up on the board. I got back in the regular line to pay for my prescription.
So last night I figured my name would pop up on the board. And if not, then someone would call me. But I was betting on being called. Thirty minutes, then an hour....Nothing. So I got back in line and told the guy that my name hasn't been called nor was my name on the board, but it's been over an hour. He looked up my name and then started scribbling stuff on a piece of paper. He said he'd call me. So I sat for another 20-30 minutes. My name was finally called.
During this fun time at the pharmacy, I got to witness several bizarre human interactions. The first weird one involved myself, and it wasn't so much weird as just plain annoying. Like a BART story annoying. Out of all the seats to sit in, this lady who smelled like garlic or some other seasoning, decided sitting next to me and using the arm rest I was using (we both get two, I was there first, you use your other arm rest, lady) while talking of the phone was the best idea ever. Not only did she smell weird and I really wanted to move but decided not to because I'd just end up next to another annoying person, and not only was she using the same arm rest so it looked like we knew each other well, but she was leaning towards me while talking on her cell phone, which was planted on her ear next me. Yet again, another person who feels the need to talk next to a person who wants to read. Luckily she was talking in another language. Since I couldn't understand her, her talking was just white noise. And I do love my white noise.
Then there was the man who couldn't speak English very well, but insisted on driving this older white couple crazy with his questions they couldn't understand. He was almost hostile. Like he was the king of the world, and these two wrinkly and shaky old folks were brought to him for his amusement. It started off with the older man wearing a Nebraska jacket. For the University. Which is bright red and not hard to miss. The man started asking him if he likes Nebraska, and after many, "whats," they got that he was asking about the school or team, I'm not sure which. The older man made the folly of saying he lived there. This got the other man all wild and crazy with questions for some reason, asking him if they know and like certain people. Finally the older lady took control and said she's a Californian native and he hasn't been to Nebraska for 20 years.
Okay.
Then the man started asking them what sounded like, "How are you?" The older man kept saying "what?" until he thought he got it, so he said, "I'm fine." The man got all crazed and said again, "How are you???!!!" The older lady realized he was asking how old they were. And instead of letting her answer, the other man started guessing. He basically made them 10 years older than they were (the older lady was in her late 60's, the older man was in his early 70's). The older lady set him straight again. Then the man got really ballsy and asked, "Do you drive well?" At this point I was getting really bothered by him and his lack of respect for this couple, so I stopped pretending to read and was getting ready to interject if he got too familiar with them (which, really, in my opinion, he already did).
Luckily, the older couple was saved by weirdo man by having their name pop up on the screen. They both got up and moved slowly towards the line. All the while, the man kept batting stupid questions at them. The older lady kept saying over and over and over that they have to get in line, in hopes the guy would just shut up.
I think the older lady realized she couldn't stand in the line because of her health, so she came back to the seats, but this time sat right next to me. Which was far away enough from weirdo man that she could ignore him without it being totally obvious. I felt for her. She wasn't a mean older lady, so what was she supposed to do? I'd protect her. If I had too. Eventually they met up with another older man that they knew, and he protected them from weirdo man. He even took them home. The older couple took a cab because it would be too dark to drive when they were finished with their Kaiser fun.
Then there were all the people who felt they didn't need to stand in line. This one lady (who also barely spoke English -- I think I'm going to go to France and try the "I barely speak French, so I can cut in lines" way of living, and then get bashed by une baguette on the head by some angry French person, maybe even have des fromage tossed at my face...) decided that she didn't have to stand in line to 1. submit her prescription, and 2. to pick it up. She placed her child in the corner of the pharmacy (literally), looked a bit forlorn at the line, stood at the end of it for 2 seconds, and then wandered to the front where she started trying to explain that she traveled far and wide to get to the Fremont Kaiser Pharmacy. Oh yea? I came from San Francisco, get back in line!!!! (Not to mention I was being completely forgotten about). After much discussion about how lines work, she frantically walked back to the line and took her spot back. Yes, the 2 second spot. She said something in broken English that no one near her understood, and everyone near her just gave up and let her do it. See, if this was France...les baguettes would be flying!! Les fromage slice in the face -- slappity, slap-slap! Her kid took himself out of the corner and stood with her, blocking everyone's way with his overweight body. He was better off in the corner.
Another lady tried the same thing, and what got me was that she stood in the pick up line to drop off her prescription, and then went to the drop-off line to pick it up. By this time I was sitting in the front row waiting for my name to be called, and she was right next to me with her two kids. The younger one started screaming her head off while she waited. I gave her a hard, yet somewhat friendly stare (probably just looked scary), and she stopped screaming for a bit.
When she was called up to the next register accepting drop-offs, she said her name was on the board. The guy told her to get in line. She acted dumb, like she didn't understand and said her name was on the board. He told her again that he wasn't going to help her -- that she had to get in line. She then became instantaneously crafty and said what if she got in line and he ended up helping her, isn't that the same thing? (Side note: At this point in their conversation, he could have just helped her to get her out of the pharmacy, and it would have taken less time than him trying to explain that she just cut in front of all the people in line. However, being a person who spent many a year in retail, I know the principal of the matter, and you just have to force customers to do what's correct instead of them finagling their way into being helped.) He told her that if she got in line, and he was the next available cashier when she was in front, he would help her, but he wasn't going to help her right now. Then he called the next person to him, which means: I've shut the customer door on you, lady, now get your ass back in line with your screaming kids.
At about this point I was called, and I got to get myself out of there. When the lady was ringing me up, I noticed the guy wrote something on the slip he gave the pharmacist the 2nd time I went through the line. Call me crazy, but I think he wrote "hardcore." Maybe it's cause I've seen him a million times now. And that I'm willing to sit in the pharmacy like an idiot for hours. I don't know. I don't even know if that's what he wrote. I'm just a bit paranoid now that I'm a Kaiser Pharmacy regular. Maybe I should start a Kaiser blog.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Malachi Fussyboots wants to be your friend.
I have now begun my quest to create zoesoph friends, and the first friend created was Malachi Fussyboots. I'm in the works of bringing Snicklesnort alive, so make sure you check out my zoesoph shop for her arrival in the next week.
And yes, I misspelled two things in Mr. Fussyboots booklet, but I will fix it before anyone adopts him as their friend. I just need to get my hands on thicker paper....
Let me answer the question of why anyone should adopt one of my zoesoph friends -- basically, not only are you getting a friend that will love you forever and travels easily, but your friend comes with their own story. That gives you a chance to see if your perspective friend fits your personality. Good friend matches are always a plus!
And yes, I misspelled two things in Mr. Fussyboots booklet, but I will fix it before anyone adopts him as their friend. I just need to get my hands on thicker paper....
Let me answer the question of why anyone should adopt one of my zoesoph friends -- basically, not only are you getting a friend that will love you forever and travels easily, but your friend comes with their own story. That gives you a chance to see if your perspective friend fits your personality. Good friend matches are always a plus!
Monday, December 26, 2005
Missy Sophia
Since I've gotten a lot of crap about not showing pictures of my other cat Sophia on my blog, I wanted to share this beauty of pic of her. She's wearing her Christmas Ruff. Last year, she escaped outside because of the unfortunate "door was left open by husband" incident, and her Christmas Ruff ended up around her middle, turning itself into a Christmas Tutu. She's a Kitty Queen. Don't go trying to steal her from me. If you do, she'll tear one of your body parts up nice and bloody like. Just think of her as being part of the Kitty Mafia.
Best Xmas Gifts This Year
I got a lot of cool stuff from Santa this year (thanks Dad, Hubby, Friends and Family), but the two toppers were Uggy and Babo.
Uggy came from my pal M who knows I love cats more than anything else. She picked up Uggy when she went on a mini vacation in Cambria. I'm very glad Uggy got to come live with me.
Uggy came from my pal M who knows I love cats more than anything else. She picked up Uggy when she went on a mini vacation in Cambria. I'm very glad Uggy got to come live with me.
Babo is an Ugly Doll. I've wanted an Ugly Doll for about 5 years now. But, even though they're so ugly they're cute, they are still pretty expensive to just buy because they're staring at you in a bin full of other Ugly Dolls, pleading you to take one of them home and give him lots of love. I am particularly fond of Babo, and I guess in a daze one day I either told my husband about my love of Babo or sent him a link to Babo. I remember my Babo-loving day, but I honestly don't remember telling him or sending him a link. But I send him random links all the time and forget that I have. Anyway, I love Babo.
Come midnight on xmas day (yes, we open our gifts at midnight), I opened one of my gifts to find Babo staring up at me. Needless to say, I was in complete Babo-happiness as soon as my eyes fell upon him. We have been best pals since. In fact, he's sitting in my lap right now watching me as I type.
Babo is just one of those items you want but can't bring yourself to buy when you have a mortgage, property tax and other bills to pay. But boy howdy, he certainly makes the best xmas gift ever. Uggy, on the other hand, is the item you never knew you wanted until he found you.
Merry day after Christmas!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Decisions, decisions....
The Fremont train was late going home tonight, so when I got on it, the seats were sparse. I grabbed one of the handicap seats since there were no window seats. A man who tried to hog up a whole bench got the picture that people would just sit on him if he didn't move his luggage (yet another traveler who tries to hole themselves up in a tight seating situation and expect no one to ask him to move), so there was an empty seat next to him when most people got on the train.
A lady with her kid walked over to the empty seat. So I had to make a quick decision: look like a jerk because I didn't want to give up my seat (with good reason -- my back was killing me, and if you know me, you know what I'm talking about) or give up my seat and stand while the stupid man next to me still sat down. Hmmmm....
Luckily the luggage man offered to stand up so she could sit on the same bench with her kid. She turned him down. Okay, so now I don't feel so bad.
But then I could tell out of the corner of my eye that the kid was staring straight ahead, like, right at me, and the mom kept looking at him and then looking at me. Uh oh. Were they trying to place some kookie voodoo spell on me? Ack, but my back hurt so much. I had to sit down and think all day, and well, it was all too much for me. Plus, even though I look healthy and 15, that doesn't mean I have my own physical problems. Go ahead, lady and kid, voodoo me all you want!
But, admittedly, I was getting a little paranoid by the whole look, look away thing, so I finally took a peek. The kid was comatose! He was staring off into space (and not at me), and the mom was softly talking to him and then looking in the direction he was staring. Oh man. Now I really felt like I should give up my seat, since it was perpendicular to her kid's seat, and obviously the kid was ready to pass out any second. Who knows what she put him through today.
Ah! But I was saved! The man sitting next to me got up at Embarcadero, and so I quickly slid over and patted the seat next to me so no weasely person tried to take it before she could. She sat down. When more people poured onto the train, she picked her kid up and sat him on her lap. Eventually they found a good position, and he passed out.
So did I.
Glad it worked out for all of us.
A lady with her kid walked over to the empty seat. So I had to make a quick decision: look like a jerk because I didn't want to give up my seat (with good reason -- my back was killing me, and if you know me, you know what I'm talking about) or give up my seat and stand while the stupid man next to me still sat down. Hmmmm....
Luckily the luggage man offered to stand up so she could sit on the same bench with her kid. She turned him down. Okay, so now I don't feel so bad.
But then I could tell out of the corner of my eye that the kid was staring straight ahead, like, right at me, and the mom kept looking at him and then looking at me. Uh oh. Were they trying to place some kookie voodoo spell on me? Ack, but my back hurt so much. I had to sit down and think all day, and well, it was all too much for me. Plus, even though I look healthy and 15, that doesn't mean I have my own physical problems. Go ahead, lady and kid, voodoo me all you want!
But, admittedly, I was getting a little paranoid by the whole look, look away thing, so I finally took a peek. The kid was comatose! He was staring off into space (and not at me), and the mom was softly talking to him and then looking in the direction he was staring. Oh man. Now I really felt like I should give up my seat, since it was perpendicular to her kid's seat, and obviously the kid was ready to pass out any second. Who knows what she put him through today.
Ah! But I was saved! The man sitting next to me got up at Embarcadero, and so I quickly slid over and patted the seat next to me so no weasely person tried to take it before she could. She sat down. When more people poured onto the train, she picked her kid up and sat him on her lap. Eventually they found a good position, and he passed out.
So did I.
Glad it worked out for all of us.
Amazon Gold Box Predictions 12/20/2005
It's been awhile....
My friend the Gold Box wants me to read more memoirs. Which is good because I do enjoy the memoir. I should read about murders, motherlands and beauty. I should also carry around my crank AM/FM radio (just in case -- always good to be prepared). Goldy is worried about my health (still -- hey, it's holiday weight!!! Perhaps I should kill the person who invented holiday candy???), and I should look into veganism (no thanks), read more about personal nutrition (I thought that was reading the side of the box or bag of food I want to eat to see how much I should eat...) and brush my chompers with a rechargeable toothbrush. Oh, and I shouldn't forget my new Prada cosmetic bag to hold all my fancy cosmetics (foundation, powder, mascara -- I'm not fancy, Gold Box!).
My friend the Gold Box wants me to read more memoirs. Which is good because I do enjoy the memoir. I should read about murders, motherlands and beauty. I should also carry around my crank AM/FM radio (just in case -- always good to be prepared). Goldy is worried about my health (still -- hey, it's holiday weight!!! Perhaps I should kill the person who invented holiday candy???), and I should look into veganism (no thanks), read more about personal nutrition (I thought that was reading the side of the box or bag of food I want to eat to see how much I should eat...) and brush my chompers with a rechargeable toothbrush. Oh, and I shouldn't forget my new Prada cosmetic bag to hold all my fancy cosmetics (foundation, powder, mascara -- I'm not fancy, Gold Box!).
Monday, December 19, 2005
A message to all folk
When you want to tell someone else (usually another folk of your color or ethnic background) something about another race/ethnic background (usually a generalization you've come up with and assume whomever you're talking to agrees), don't do this:
Quickly look around to see who is around you before you finish what you want to say.
Move closer to the person who you want to say it to.
Say very quietly so no one can hear you except that person, "You know, the Asians like to....," (complete how you see fit), and then sit back and expect the person you just said your generalization to to understand your thoughts and even agree with you.
Don't do that. You look dumb. If you've got a generalization to make, and you think you're not racist, then go ahead and spout off your generalization in a normal voice. Do it. I dare you.
Okay. Let's take me. I'm white. Husband is not. Let's say I was by myself and met some people, and we were all talking and having a grand time (it's been known to happen). Then someone wanted to say a generalization about Mexican people in the way I just explained above. Our good times would be forever ruined.
So yeah....it doesn't matter if you're white or something else because I've had all kinds of people do the same thing to me. You really don't know who you're talking to.
Oh, and yes, this happened this weekend. And as soon as it did happen, my opinion of my new pal decreased a notch.
Quickly look around to see who is around you before you finish what you want to say.
Move closer to the person who you want to say it to.
Say very quietly so no one can hear you except that person, "You know, the Asians like to....," (complete how you see fit), and then sit back and expect the person you just said your generalization to to understand your thoughts and even agree with you.
Don't do that. You look dumb. If you've got a generalization to make, and you think you're not racist, then go ahead and spout off your generalization in a normal voice. Do it. I dare you.
Okay. Let's take me. I'm white. Husband is not. Let's say I was by myself and met some people, and we were all talking and having a grand time (it's been known to happen). Then someone wanted to say a generalization about Mexican people in the way I just explained above. Our good times would be forever ruined.
So yeah....it doesn't matter if you're white or something else because I've had all kinds of people do the same thing to me. You really don't know who you're talking to.
Oh, and yes, this happened this weekend. And as soon as it did happen, my opinion of my new pal decreased a notch.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Being attacked by older women
I had to go to Aaron Brothers tonight to see if I could get something framed before xmas. I missed the last day by one day, and so I now have to cut my own mat and doing the framing myself. No biggy. I've done it before. It just may look a little wonky, but I'm a little wonky.
So I wandered around the store for a bit, looking for a frame for my cute picture of my very handsome nephews and looking at pre-cut mats. When I was done, I wandered to the front of the store, where the registers were. I passed a couple older ladies looking at the holiday gift idea displays on my way up.
When I put my stuff down (one very large mat board, 8X10 frame and boxed 4X6 frame, plus my work bag, which is no small sac), I paused a bit before ringing the "ring this bell for service" bell because I just really didn't feel like ringing it. Even though I worked in a store that relied on such type of bell...it's still one of those things I don't like to do as a customer.
All of a sudden, one of the older ladies came walking up to the counter, talking as she was walking up. She was asking a question, so I thought the store clerk was right behind me.
So I just kinda stared at her, but not so much listening. Then I realized she was talking to me.
"Uh...Oh. I don't work here," I told her.
"Oh! You don't?" She walked closer towards the registers. "You're right behind the counter!"
I looked down. "No, I'm right in front of the counter?"
"Oh! I'm short! I can't see. I'm sorry. You should get a job here!" she told me.
What?
It was right then that I decided to suck it up and ring the damn "ring for service" bell. Get me out of here! And it was right then that another older lady walked up and took the other lady's place.
"Excuse me, but do these mini frames...," she started to ask. The other lady started cackling as she walked away.
"I don't work here," I told her quickly and then slammed that bell like it was a punching bag.
"Oh, you were talking to her," she said in a snotty tone. Like because she decided I worked there, I should work there and what the heck was wrong with me? Don't I know I should work there?
"We were having the same conversation about how I don't work here," I said.
The store clerk was walking up at that moment, and the first lady tried to get to her before she could make it to the registers. The store clerk told her to wait because she was the only person there. Then the second lady asked her mini frame question before the clerk could get to me.
What the hey! This is my fate in life for looking like I'm 12. And the whole time I'm thinking, work at Aaron Brothers? And then I'd think of my current job...and yeah, I just don't see myself working at Aaron Brothers anytime soon.
So then I headed over to Joann Fabrics to look for critter making supplies. I walked around the store many, many times because it's basically a craft junk store and I couldn't find anything. During my many trips around the store, I was getting eyeballed by old ladies who didn't think I belonged there for some reason.
When I was in line to buy my critter making stuff (watch out kids -- critters are coming!), a lady walked in and was all smiles. The only thing odd about that was that all the other older ladies in the store weren't all smiles. They were all grumbles and mean faces.
When the clerk was ringing me up, I heard someone say behind me, "are you waving to me?"
I looked up then.
The person who waved was smiles. She said, "No, I was waving to her."
I was looking up at this point, and I realized she was talking to me.
"Me?" I asked.
"Yes, I had a class with you. Your name is Janine?"
"Uh, yeah....I'm sorry, I don't remember you, though."
"We had a class at Ohlone. That was so long ago, though."
Then at the same time, we both said that she had a good memory.
Okay, it's all fine and dandy that someone would remember me, yet it makes me wonder what I did to make her remember me in the first place, but to remember my name? That's a bit too much.
Then I thought...what if she ran some business who needed a writer, jewelry maker or critter creator? Damn.
So I wandered around the store for a bit, looking for a frame for my cute picture of my very handsome nephews and looking at pre-cut mats. When I was done, I wandered to the front of the store, where the registers were. I passed a couple older ladies looking at the holiday gift idea displays on my way up.
When I put my stuff down (one very large mat board, 8X10 frame and boxed 4X6 frame, plus my work bag, which is no small sac), I paused a bit before ringing the "ring this bell for service" bell because I just really didn't feel like ringing it. Even though I worked in a store that relied on such type of bell...it's still one of those things I don't like to do as a customer.
All of a sudden, one of the older ladies came walking up to the counter, talking as she was walking up. She was asking a question, so I thought the store clerk was right behind me.
So I just kinda stared at her, but not so much listening. Then I realized she was talking to me.
"Uh...Oh. I don't work here," I told her.
"Oh! You don't?" She walked closer towards the registers. "You're right behind the counter!"
I looked down. "No, I'm right in front of the counter?"
"Oh! I'm short! I can't see. I'm sorry. You should get a job here!" she told me.
What?
It was right then that I decided to suck it up and ring the damn "ring for service" bell. Get me out of here! And it was right then that another older lady walked up and took the other lady's place.
"Excuse me, but do these mini frames...," she started to ask. The other lady started cackling as she walked away.
"I don't work here," I told her quickly and then slammed that bell like it was a punching bag.
"Oh, you were talking to her," she said in a snotty tone. Like because she decided I worked there, I should work there and what the heck was wrong with me? Don't I know I should work there?
"We were having the same conversation about how I don't work here," I said.
The store clerk was walking up at that moment, and the first lady tried to get to her before she could make it to the registers. The store clerk told her to wait because she was the only person there. Then the second lady asked her mini frame question before the clerk could get to me.
What the hey! This is my fate in life for looking like I'm 12. And the whole time I'm thinking, work at Aaron Brothers? And then I'd think of my current job...and yeah, I just don't see myself working at Aaron Brothers anytime soon.
So then I headed over to Joann Fabrics to look for critter making supplies. I walked around the store many, many times because it's basically a craft junk store and I couldn't find anything. During my many trips around the store, I was getting eyeballed by old ladies who didn't think I belonged there for some reason.
When I was in line to buy my critter making stuff (watch out kids -- critters are coming!), a lady walked in and was all smiles. The only thing odd about that was that all the other older ladies in the store weren't all smiles. They were all grumbles and mean faces.
When the clerk was ringing me up, I heard someone say behind me, "are you waving to me?"
I looked up then.
The person who waved was smiles. She said, "No, I was waving to her."
I was looking up at this point, and I realized she was talking to me.
"Me?" I asked.
"Yes, I had a class with you. Your name is Janine?"
"Uh, yeah....I'm sorry, I don't remember you, though."
"We had a class at Ohlone. That was so long ago, though."
Then at the same time, we both said that she had a good memory.
Okay, it's all fine and dandy that someone would remember me, yet it makes me wonder what I did to make her remember me in the first place, but to remember my name? That's a bit too much.
Then I thought...what if she ran some business who needed a writer, jewelry maker or critter creator? Damn.
Sponsor an animal!
The Oakland Zoo has a winter gift special going on -- you can sponsor 7 different animals at $49 bucks each.
Too bad you can't have lunch with your animal too.
Too bad you can't have lunch with your animal too.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Xmas is kicking my butt
I don't know what it is about xmas this year that's making it so difficult to get through. Usually by now I have no worries, no more shopping and all gifts wrapped. This year, I still need to buy stuff and still need to wrap gifts. I think it's because I have good gift plans this year, some were foiled, some were not. Some have taken longer to see through.
I had this brilliant idea of saving money by making all the girls in my life jewelry. So I spent a ton of money on beads and cute trinkety things and red velveteen pouches. Then I realized for some of them, I couldn't just give them jewelry, even if I did want to save some money. Something happens to me about the end of November, and I get all xmasy happy and start buying stuff like crazy. This year was no different, even with mortgage payments and looming property taxes and supplemental property taxes ahead of me. So now they were getting jewelry and a gift.
Then we had dinner with the in-laws, and I found out some of the girls I was just giving jewelry to make jewelry. Hello? I can't give them my jewelry! It just seemed stupid now. So I had to run out and buy them a little something (they weren't getting an extra gift before this -- I have a million kids in my life, some related by blood, others by marriage, and some just around).
And don't even get me started on the Family Giving Tree kids I picked. Every year I pick kids that want something that seems easy to buy. This year I picked a kid who wanted a Clifford the Big Red Dog video or sleeping bag (still not sure if he wanted a Clifford the Big Red Dog sleeping bag or just any old sleeping bag, but I couldn't find any Clifford sleeping bags except a used one on eBay, and that just ain't going to happen) and a girl who wanted scrap booking supplies. The video was easy enough; I bought 4 of them from an online video shop that sells them cheap and only charges 99 cents shipping.
The scrap booking supplies were more difficult. I looked at every store I thought would have a kit. But all the kits were for 6 and up. My kid was 13. I barely remember what 13 was like, but I know I probably was already weird or just turning weird, and if someone gave me something that was recommended for 6 and up, I would have been pretty miffed. Luckily I went to a party last weekend (the infamous "White Trash Christmas" party where my mom's jello cake was a huge hit -- so was my retelling of how my mom said, "Who is this person that's making fun of white people???"), and the person throwing the party has a 13-year old, and so I saw what one looks like now, and yeah. 6 and up scrap book kit would not do. She looked older than me.
I had went to Michaels the week before looking for a kit, only to be disappointed, and then realizing they have a whole 3 aisles dedicated to "adult" scrap booking in the front of the store in perfect view of the registers, but since I was already standing in a long and painfully slow line full of old women buying fake flowers, I didn't want to get out of line to see what they had and then get back in line. I just stored it in my memory bank of information for later use. I never made it out in the world this weekend to look for one, so on Monday I went back to Michaels (I didn't buy a single bead -- I'm very proud of myself!) to look at the scrap book section. I figured I was going to have to make my own kit for my kid and hope that everything gets to her. Luckily, they do make kits for older folks, and I found a really cool, slightly retro kit with tons of paper and fun stuff. Back in the painfully long line full of old people with their fake flowers for me!
During this time, I realized that the Family Giving Tree was one sneaky organization and had given my company several of these three-year olds who want Clifford the Big Red Dog videos or sleeping bags. I discovered this while being on another floor. Hmm, I thought. I'm buying four videos. There are about 3 and maybe more on the wall who want what I'm getting 4-fold of. I decided that my original kid was going to be lucky to see 2 of the videos I was getting him, let alone all 4, so I might as well spread the Clifford love by picking another kid who wanted the video.
I had the videos shipped to my mom's house to ensure I would get them (DHL likes to leave packages outside for anyone to grab, the UPS guy is generally good but then my husband would have to go to the HOA office to pick it up, and if USPS didn't want to leave it in condo "big package mail box," then someone was going to the post office to get the package. Mom's house is sooooo much easier much to her chagrin.), and so when she told me last week they came, I was happy. I could knocked two kids off my list! (Remember, I was still looking for the scrap booking stuff at that point.)
My mom brought the videos and some other stuff over. I looked in the box. There were only three. ONLY THREE!!! And I had to go pick another kid, I thought. Should have stuck with the one.... I had also deleted the email the video store sent me because I thought it was spam. So I had to do some research on my missing Clifford video. Turns out they shipped it out later than the other three for some reason. I turned my first Clifford kid in and waited. Luckily the 4th video showed up a couple of days ago, and now the 2nd kid's getting his two videos (or one, who knows what'll happen to them).
And even though I announced several months ago that my husband and I would not be spending a ton of money on each other for xmas, the gift buying has gotten a little out of hand and very much sort of last minute -- considered all my items were purchased online. Some of it has to do with the lack of personal shopping we were allowed to do since we bought our condo.
So I still have a ton of gifts to wrap, more on their way and time is running out. I'll get it done, though. Luckily xmas eve is on Saturday this year, so I've got the whole day. I'm still contemplating making cookies, but I just don't see that happening.
Pretty soon xmas will pass us all, and then...it'll be my birthday!!! I'm going to the zoo!
I had this brilliant idea of saving money by making all the girls in my life jewelry. So I spent a ton of money on beads and cute trinkety things and red velveteen pouches. Then I realized for some of them, I couldn't just give them jewelry, even if I did want to save some money. Something happens to me about the end of November, and I get all xmasy happy and start buying stuff like crazy. This year was no different, even with mortgage payments and looming property taxes and supplemental property taxes ahead of me. So now they were getting jewelry and a gift.
Then we had dinner with the in-laws, and I found out some of the girls I was just giving jewelry to make jewelry. Hello? I can't give them my jewelry! It just seemed stupid now. So I had to run out and buy them a little something (they weren't getting an extra gift before this -- I have a million kids in my life, some related by blood, others by marriage, and some just around).
And don't even get me started on the Family Giving Tree kids I picked. Every year I pick kids that want something that seems easy to buy. This year I picked a kid who wanted a Clifford the Big Red Dog video or sleeping bag (still not sure if he wanted a Clifford the Big Red Dog sleeping bag or just any old sleeping bag, but I couldn't find any Clifford sleeping bags except a used one on eBay, and that just ain't going to happen) and a girl who wanted scrap booking supplies. The video was easy enough; I bought 4 of them from an online video shop that sells them cheap and only charges 99 cents shipping.
The scrap booking supplies were more difficult. I looked at every store I thought would have a kit. But all the kits were for 6 and up. My kid was 13. I barely remember what 13 was like, but I know I probably was already weird or just turning weird, and if someone gave me something that was recommended for 6 and up, I would have been pretty miffed. Luckily I went to a party last weekend (the infamous "White Trash Christmas" party where my mom's jello cake was a huge hit -- so was my retelling of how my mom said, "Who is this person that's making fun of white people???"), and the person throwing the party has a 13-year old, and so I saw what one looks like now, and yeah. 6 and up scrap book kit would not do. She looked older than me.
I had went to Michaels the week before looking for a kit, only to be disappointed, and then realizing they have a whole 3 aisles dedicated to "adult" scrap booking in the front of the store in perfect view of the registers, but since I was already standing in a long and painfully slow line full of old women buying fake flowers, I didn't want to get out of line to see what they had and then get back in line. I just stored it in my memory bank of information for later use. I never made it out in the world this weekend to look for one, so on Monday I went back to Michaels (I didn't buy a single bead -- I'm very proud of myself!) to look at the scrap book section. I figured I was going to have to make my own kit for my kid and hope that everything gets to her. Luckily, they do make kits for older folks, and I found a really cool, slightly retro kit with tons of paper and fun stuff. Back in the painfully long line full of old people with their fake flowers for me!
During this time, I realized that the Family Giving Tree was one sneaky organization and had given my company several of these three-year olds who want Clifford the Big Red Dog videos or sleeping bags. I discovered this while being on another floor. Hmm, I thought. I'm buying four videos. There are about 3 and maybe more on the wall who want what I'm getting 4-fold of. I decided that my original kid was going to be lucky to see 2 of the videos I was getting him, let alone all 4, so I might as well spread the Clifford love by picking another kid who wanted the video.
I had the videos shipped to my mom's house to ensure I would get them (DHL likes to leave packages outside for anyone to grab, the UPS guy is generally good but then my husband would have to go to the HOA office to pick it up, and if USPS didn't want to leave it in condo "big package mail box," then someone was going to the post office to get the package. Mom's house is sooooo much easier much to her chagrin.), and so when she told me last week they came, I was happy. I could knocked two kids off my list! (Remember, I was still looking for the scrap booking stuff at that point.)
My mom brought the videos and some other stuff over. I looked in the box. There were only three. ONLY THREE!!! And I had to go pick another kid, I thought. Should have stuck with the one.... I had also deleted the email the video store sent me because I thought it was spam. So I had to do some research on my missing Clifford video. Turns out they shipped it out later than the other three for some reason. I turned my first Clifford kid in and waited. Luckily the 4th video showed up a couple of days ago, and now the 2nd kid's getting his two videos (or one, who knows what'll happen to them).
And even though I announced several months ago that my husband and I would not be spending a ton of money on each other for xmas, the gift buying has gotten a little out of hand and very much sort of last minute -- considered all my items were purchased online. Some of it has to do with the lack of personal shopping we were allowed to do since we bought our condo.
So I still have a ton of gifts to wrap, more on their way and time is running out. I'll get it done, though. Luckily xmas eve is on Saturday this year, so I've got the whole day. I'm still contemplating making cookies, but I just don't see that happening.
Pretty soon xmas will pass us all, and then...it'll be my birthday!!! I'm going to the zoo!
Monday, December 12, 2005
Things in common
I hung out with my niece on Saturday. We have many things in common:
1. We both prefer Togo's over any other sandwich joint.
2. I'm keen on the orangutan, and that's her favorite monkey.
3. We both love pugs.
4. We both like Sponge Bob Squarepants.
5. I use the word "nemesis" a lot, she has a cat named Nemesis (although she doesn't know what the word means).
6. We both don't like people who lie.
7. We both enjoy the arts.
8. We both love cats (she loved up my cat so much that my cat took a 36 hour nap).
9. We both don't like peppermint and prefer cherry-flavored candy canes any day.
Things I learned:
1. Orangutan isn't spelled nor pronounced with a "g" at the end (I learned that right now).
2. My niece is a pretty cool kid.
3. I'm not sure I'm ready to have kids because they have way more energy than I do, and I would need to take many naps a day.
4. My sis has a fear of unusual names, such as Persephone, Antigone, Malachi, and others that I've said in the past, which always gets a look from her like I'm calling up the devil.
1. We both prefer Togo's over any other sandwich joint.
2. I'm keen on the orangutan, and that's her favorite monkey.
3. We both love pugs.
4. We both like Sponge Bob Squarepants.
5. I use the word "nemesis" a lot, she has a cat named Nemesis (although she doesn't know what the word means).
6. We both don't like people who lie.
7. We both enjoy the arts.
8. We both love cats (she loved up my cat so much that my cat took a 36 hour nap).
9. We both don't like peppermint and prefer cherry-flavored candy canes any day.
Things I learned:
1. Orangutan isn't spelled nor pronounced with a "g" at the end (I learned that right now).
2. My niece is a pretty cool kid.
3. I'm not sure I'm ready to have kids because they have way more energy than I do, and I would need to take many naps a day.
4. My sis has a fear of unusual names, such as Persephone, Antigone, Malachi, and others that I've said in the past, which always gets a look from her like I'm calling up the devil.
Road Nemesis update
My husband followed me to BART (all the way to BART, which I didn't quite expect) this morning, and of course, my road nemesis was no where to be found. Actually, we left a bit earlier than we normally do in the morning, so I think that had a lot to do with it. There weren't too many people on the road, in fact.
So when we got to BART and I parked, my husband wanted me to tell him what the car looked like (again), and I said I didn't really know (again).
So much for that.
So when we got to BART and I parked, my husband wanted me to tell him what the car looked like (again), and I said I didn't really know (again).
So much for that.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Cupcake candle
One year I received ten million different candles as xmas gifts from a bunch of different people, mostly from people at work. I guess candles are the choice of most because 1. you don't need to really know the person you're giving it to, and 2. they're cheap. Someone gave me a cupcake candle that actually looked like a real cupcake. It's cute, but it's really not my sort of thing.
So this morning my husband was going through our box of xmas stuff, and he pulled out said cupcake candle and shoved it at me.
"Nooooooo," I whined. "I don't want that!"
"Then why don't you throw it away?" he asked. Like he's one to talk because when he decides he's done with a food item (leftovers, cookies, chips, etc.), instead of throwing it away, he just leaves it in the cupboard or refrigerator until I take care of it. We have a bag of pretzels in our cupboard that he bought -- it's been months now, but since he's "done" with them, he mysteriously doesn't see them anymore. And so they remain.
"Okay," I said and grabbed it.
Then I had a brilliant idea. These type of candles aren't really meant to be lit because they're so nicely decorated and cute and resemble a real thing. But if I don't want it anymore....well, then...I can light it and see what happens when that sucker melts!
I found some matches and lit it right up. Since I was wrapping presents near it, I had to blow it out because that was one massive fire hazard waiting to turn into a gigantic fire. But I will be working on this project for the next few days. I simply cannot wait to see what happens to my melty cupcake candle!
So this morning my husband was going through our box of xmas stuff, and he pulled out said cupcake candle and shoved it at me.
"Nooooooo," I whined. "I don't want that!"
"Then why don't you throw it away?" he asked. Like he's one to talk because when he decides he's done with a food item (leftovers, cookies, chips, etc.), instead of throwing it away, he just leaves it in the cupboard or refrigerator until I take care of it. We have a bag of pretzels in our cupboard that he bought -- it's been months now, but since he's "done" with them, he mysteriously doesn't see them anymore. And so they remain.
"Okay," I said and grabbed it.
Then I had a brilliant idea. These type of candles aren't really meant to be lit because they're so nicely decorated and cute and resemble a real thing. But if I don't want it anymore....well, then...I can light it and see what happens when that sucker melts!
I found some matches and lit it right up. Since I was wrapping presents near it, I had to blow it out because that was one massive fire hazard waiting to turn into a gigantic fire. But I will be working on this project for the next few days. I simply cannot wait to see what happens to my melty cupcake candle!
Friday, December 09, 2005
I have a road nemesis
For some reason driving down Stevenson instead of Mowry to get to the BART station in Fremont seems to be the morning drive from hell for me and for the loons that want to pretend the road is a racetrack and we're all in their way.
I've been having some regular tailgaters lately, and usually I don't care so much because they'll get annoyed with me only going 5 miles over the speed limit and will pass me by. We all hate the tailgater, have been a tailgater and have seen tailgating happen; so why do people still persist on doing it and not just going around? What I particular love, and this generally happens more on the freeway, are the loons that will drive up to your car at a billion miles an hour, tail gate you, and then move over to pass you. Hello? Like you couldn't figure out I'm not going a billion miles an hour such as yourself? Anyway. I digress.
So this past week I have had this one man who rides my butt all the way down Stevenson. This morning I got a little annoyed with the whole situation, so when he finally, and I stress FINALLY, decided to go around me, I sped up to trap him behind a car that was to my right. I didn't go fast enough, so he zipped right in front of me. Ah, whatever, I thought. But then a wad of paper came flying out of his window and hit my front window. It wasn't very large, and I wouldn't have noticed it if I wasn't looking ahead, but I'll tell you, you want to start a war with me -- well, then, strap your seat belt on, my friend.
My little car may look harmless, but it's got some pep. I know it like the back of my hand, and if I suddenly want to go really fast, I can make that happen. It's not called the pincushion because it's a target for everyone, oh no. It's the demon pincushion and all hell's bells, and you better get out of my way.
So I moved into the lane to the right and passed him up. As I did, I flipped him off.
(Okay, mom, I don't want to hear how I need to stop doing these things and so on and so forth -- it's called ROAD RAGE and I have it!)
He then pulled behind me and then moved into the right lane next to me (I'm in the middle). I continued to flip him off while I stared straight ahead. Then I thought, what if he really is a loon and follows me to BART. I'm a loon, so therefore, if he does follow me, I'm stupid enough to actually confront him and then be killed and dump in the bushes. I had only one choice: Floor it.
So when the light turned green, I shot off like a flying pinball and moved back into the left lane. He moved into the middle lane but was so far behind and got stuck in another mess of tailgaters (some plastic surgeon doctor near Kaiser in his fancy speedy car -- little does he know he could do just as well in a pincushion). I lost him at some point, and don't know whether he takes BART or not. That would have been good to know because I suspect I shall be seeing him again.
I told my husband about this incident (I didn't mention the flipping off --- or maybe I did --- anyway, he knows me), and so now he's going to follow me on Monday to the BART station and kick some old man hoopty butt. Throw paper at me? HELL NO. I'll bring out the demon of muscle to protect me (my husband and his car). Oh yes, the war is on.....
I've been having some regular tailgaters lately, and usually I don't care so much because they'll get annoyed with me only going 5 miles over the speed limit and will pass me by. We all hate the tailgater, have been a tailgater and have seen tailgating happen; so why do people still persist on doing it and not just going around? What I particular love, and this generally happens more on the freeway, are the loons that will drive up to your car at a billion miles an hour, tail gate you, and then move over to pass you. Hello? Like you couldn't figure out I'm not going a billion miles an hour such as yourself? Anyway. I digress.
So this past week I have had this one man who rides my butt all the way down Stevenson. This morning I got a little annoyed with the whole situation, so when he finally, and I stress FINALLY, decided to go around me, I sped up to trap him behind a car that was to my right. I didn't go fast enough, so he zipped right in front of me. Ah, whatever, I thought. But then a wad of paper came flying out of his window and hit my front window. It wasn't very large, and I wouldn't have noticed it if I wasn't looking ahead, but I'll tell you, you want to start a war with me -- well, then, strap your seat belt on, my friend.
My little car may look harmless, but it's got some pep. I know it like the back of my hand, and if I suddenly want to go really fast, I can make that happen. It's not called the pincushion because it's a target for everyone, oh no. It's the demon pincushion and all hell's bells, and you better get out of my way.
So I moved into the lane to the right and passed him up. As I did, I flipped him off.
(Okay, mom, I don't want to hear how I need to stop doing these things and so on and so forth -- it's called ROAD RAGE and I have it!)
He then pulled behind me and then moved into the right lane next to me (I'm in the middle). I continued to flip him off while I stared straight ahead. Then I thought, what if he really is a loon and follows me to BART. I'm a loon, so therefore, if he does follow me, I'm stupid enough to actually confront him and then be killed and dump in the bushes. I had only one choice: Floor it.
So when the light turned green, I shot off like a flying pinball and moved back into the left lane. He moved into the middle lane but was so far behind and got stuck in another mess of tailgaters (some plastic surgeon doctor near Kaiser in his fancy speedy car -- little does he know he could do just as well in a pincushion). I lost him at some point, and don't know whether he takes BART or not. That would have been good to know because I suspect I shall be seeing him again.
I told my husband about this incident (I didn't mention the flipping off --- or maybe I did --- anyway, he knows me), and so now he's going to follow me on Monday to the BART station and kick some old man hoopty butt. Throw paper at me? HELL NO. I'll bring out the demon of muscle to protect me (my husband and his car). Oh yes, the war is on.....
Merry Xmas, Target
I'm not thinking so much that it's the holidays and people will be in the stores, and that people in stores and me don't mix so well, and that perhaps I should just stay home, shop online or send my husband out for provisions. So since I'm not thinking this way, I'm still going out and shopping for things I could buy online or send my husband out to buy.
Like last night. I went to Target.
I did go with my husband, however, because I know myself well enough to know that I can't handle stores on my own too often.
The first thing I had to do was tackle the xmas area of our local Target, which includes a bountiful of xmas related items and decorations...and PEOPLE. I needed to get more wrapping paper and bows and ribbon and boxes. This should have been easy, but alas, two teenage girls decided dragging their shopping cart down the cheap wrapping paper aisle and blocking everything was a good plan. My husband decided he should stand back across the main aisle and wait for me. So with parmesan dusted soft pretzel in hand, I ventured up and down the xmas aisles looking for all the cheap stuff.
I would bring things back to my husband piecemeal because there wasn't enough room for me to be lugging around various items in one hand while stuffing said pretzel into my mouth. I had to take a deep breath and dive back into the wrapping paper aisle only to be embattled for personal space with the two teenie boppers. No one else existed at all. Only them and their stupid shopping cart. And all their friends that they were buying the wrapping paper and other stuff for. It was them, them, them. But what about me? I'm an adult. You be nice to me, teeny boppers or I'll get mad and call you a little girl!
I made the mistake of making the rounds again looking for wrapping paper that came in a set, which, by the way, Target apparently doesn't believe in anymore. When I turned to go back down that aisle, the two girls were still there, bouncing off the display walls. I was perusing the wrapping paper, decided on a couple of rolls, and then changed my mind on one because it was extra long, and I don't need extra long paper this year. That was when this huge mamajama came strolling down the aisle in her white kaftan, super done-up face and fat kid in tow. Being the kind person that I am, I decided I should wait for her to get out of my way instead of moving further down the aisle and getting into her way. You would think, wouldn't you, if someone was making this sort of an effort, you would move yourself, cart and fat kid in tow a bit faster instead of making the kind person wait for you to continue your stroll down the aisle? Right? I mean, I would. I notice these things. But no. Kaftan mamajama kept on strolling and fat kid wasn't planning on ever moving any faster than he was, so I had to push him out of the way a bit so I could put back the extra large roll of wrapping paper. Because I did that, I needed to head back up the aisle to get another roll of regular paper (why I didn't do that when I was waiting for kaftan to walk by, I don't know). So I turn around and wham! I've got teenie boppers blocking the way.
"Excuse me," I said in monotone while parmesan cheese dust fell all over my wool jacket.
She moved, but only in that way that indicates she was already planning to move, and it certainly wasn't because I was there or that I said excuse me.
I grabbed another roll, made it down the aisle and put them in our shopping cart. As I did, I let out a huge breath of air.
"What's the matter," my husband asked.
"Oh, I'm just decompressing," I told him.
We continued shopping, and when we headed to the checkout area, my husband relinquished the cart to me (I'm hardly ever allowed to drive the cart -- I tend to get angry and hit people with it) and ran off into the holiday candy section.
I found a nice older lady who was just waiting for me to show up so she could ring me up. I put all my items on the belt and moved toward the credit card machine. She picked up a desk lamp I was buying to take better pictures of my jewelry (so, in other words, out of all the stuff I was buying, this was the one thing I needed the most), looked it over, looked at me, stopped some man who was walking by (manager, I'm assuming), and said, "This doesn't have a price tag on it."
Oh, no problem, I thought. Someone will run over there to the shelf, check the price, tell her how much it is.
The guy's response was (without looking at it really), "If it doesn't have a price tag, then it's a display and you can't sell it."
"Oh, okay," she said and put the desk lamp in a box underneath her register.
Whaaaat? I thought. What about me?
"You okay with that?" she asked me.
Well, let's see. You're almost finished checking me out, there's a lady behind me who obviously wants to get out of here (I notice these things as well), my husband is MIA in the candy aisle so I can't send him to go look for a lamp that does have a price tag on it (there were three laying on the shelf), so what else am I to do? So I looked around and said, "Okay?" like I half believed myself.
I started grabbing for my cell phone to call my MIA husband and tell him to grab another lamp, when I saw him walking towards the register with a bag of Mother's cookies in hands. I told him to go grab another lamp. He gave me the bag of cookies, I added it to the remainder of my stuff, and when the lady was finished ringing me up, she asked me if I wanted to wait for him or just pay.
Well, let's see again. Should I be one of those obnoxious people who hold up the line because they don't want to get back in line to buy something that they should have been able to buy in the first place? Or just pay and make my husband wait in line to buy my lamp. The lady behind me did have "crazy shopper" eye, so I figured I should just pay and get myself out of the way. Who knows, she may be Kaftan's sister.
My husband cam back with another lamp with no price tag. Oh come on. They seriously can't say these two lamps that have plastic wrapped around them and cardboard shoved between the plastic vise clippers are displays. My husband told me that the third one didn't have a tag either.
Guess who walked by at this exact moment? The man who declared the first lamp a display without even investigating the situation.
"Excuse me," I said, "you told her this the lamp was a display and it couldn't be sold. This one doesn't have a price tag either, and there is a third one over there that doesn't too."
"Oh," he said. "I'll take care of you right now." He rung up the lamp based on my husband telling him that the sign said $6.99. My husband paid.
Now why couldn't that have happened in the first place? There was no way I was leaving Target without my lamp, I tell you.
Xmas shopping is fun, fun, fun!
Like last night. I went to Target.
I did go with my husband, however, because I know myself well enough to know that I can't handle stores on my own too often.
The first thing I had to do was tackle the xmas area of our local Target, which includes a bountiful of xmas related items and decorations...and PEOPLE. I needed to get more wrapping paper and bows and ribbon and boxes. This should have been easy, but alas, two teenage girls decided dragging their shopping cart down the cheap wrapping paper aisle and blocking everything was a good plan. My husband decided he should stand back across the main aisle and wait for me. So with parmesan dusted soft pretzel in hand, I ventured up and down the xmas aisles looking for all the cheap stuff.
I would bring things back to my husband piecemeal because there wasn't enough room for me to be lugging around various items in one hand while stuffing said pretzel into my mouth. I had to take a deep breath and dive back into the wrapping paper aisle only to be embattled for personal space with the two teenie boppers. No one else existed at all. Only them and their stupid shopping cart. And all their friends that they were buying the wrapping paper and other stuff for. It was them, them, them. But what about me? I'm an adult. You be nice to me, teeny boppers or I'll get mad and call you a little girl!
I made the mistake of making the rounds again looking for wrapping paper that came in a set, which, by the way, Target apparently doesn't believe in anymore. When I turned to go back down that aisle, the two girls were still there, bouncing off the display walls. I was perusing the wrapping paper, decided on a couple of rolls, and then changed my mind on one because it was extra long, and I don't need extra long paper this year. That was when this huge mamajama came strolling down the aisle in her white kaftan, super done-up face and fat kid in tow. Being the kind person that I am, I decided I should wait for her to get out of my way instead of moving further down the aisle and getting into her way. You would think, wouldn't you, if someone was making this sort of an effort, you would move yourself, cart and fat kid in tow a bit faster instead of making the kind person wait for you to continue your stroll down the aisle? Right? I mean, I would. I notice these things. But no. Kaftan mamajama kept on strolling and fat kid wasn't planning on ever moving any faster than he was, so I had to push him out of the way a bit so I could put back the extra large roll of wrapping paper. Because I did that, I needed to head back up the aisle to get another roll of regular paper (why I didn't do that when I was waiting for kaftan to walk by, I don't know). So I turn around and wham! I've got teenie boppers blocking the way.
"Excuse me," I said in monotone while parmesan cheese dust fell all over my wool jacket.
She moved, but only in that way that indicates she was already planning to move, and it certainly wasn't because I was there or that I said excuse me.
I grabbed another roll, made it down the aisle and put them in our shopping cart. As I did, I let out a huge breath of air.
"What's the matter," my husband asked.
"Oh, I'm just decompressing," I told him.
We continued shopping, and when we headed to the checkout area, my husband relinquished the cart to me (I'm hardly ever allowed to drive the cart -- I tend to get angry and hit people with it) and ran off into the holiday candy section.
I found a nice older lady who was just waiting for me to show up so she could ring me up. I put all my items on the belt and moved toward the credit card machine. She picked up a desk lamp I was buying to take better pictures of my jewelry (so, in other words, out of all the stuff I was buying, this was the one thing I needed the most), looked it over, looked at me, stopped some man who was walking by (manager, I'm assuming), and said, "This doesn't have a price tag on it."
Oh, no problem, I thought. Someone will run over there to the shelf, check the price, tell her how much it is.
The guy's response was (without looking at it really), "If it doesn't have a price tag, then it's a display and you can't sell it."
"Oh, okay," she said and put the desk lamp in a box underneath her register.
Whaaaat? I thought. What about me?
"You okay with that?" she asked me.
Well, let's see. You're almost finished checking me out, there's a lady behind me who obviously wants to get out of here (I notice these things as well), my husband is MIA in the candy aisle so I can't send him to go look for a lamp that does have a price tag on it (there were three laying on the shelf), so what else am I to do? So I looked around and said, "Okay?" like I half believed myself.
I started grabbing for my cell phone to call my MIA husband and tell him to grab another lamp, when I saw him walking towards the register with a bag of Mother's cookies in hands. I told him to go grab another lamp. He gave me the bag of cookies, I added it to the remainder of my stuff, and when the lady was finished ringing me up, she asked me if I wanted to wait for him or just pay.
Well, let's see again. Should I be one of those obnoxious people who hold up the line because they don't want to get back in line to buy something that they should have been able to buy in the first place? Or just pay and make my husband wait in line to buy my lamp. The lady behind me did have "crazy shopper" eye, so I figured I should just pay and get myself out of the way. Who knows, she may be Kaftan's sister.
My husband cam back with another lamp with no price tag. Oh come on. They seriously can't say these two lamps that have plastic wrapped around them and cardboard shoved between the plastic vise clippers are displays. My husband told me that the third one didn't have a tag either.
Guess who walked by at this exact moment? The man who declared the first lamp a display without even investigating the situation.
"Excuse me," I said, "you told her this the lamp was a display and it couldn't be sold. This one doesn't have a price tag either, and there is a third one over there that doesn't too."
"Oh," he said. "I'll take care of you right now." He rung up the lamp based on my husband telling him that the sign said $6.99. My husband paid.
Now why couldn't that have happened in the first place? There was no way I was leaving Target without my lamp, I tell you.
Xmas shopping is fun, fun, fun!
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Oatmeal + microwave = disaster
And I know this. I know that if you don't watch your oatmeal cooking away in the microwave, a huge balloon of oatmeal happiness overflows and covers everything. Today I thought I was outsmarting the oatmeal/microwave relationship by using a larger plastic bowl. I should have known better. It doesn't matter.
And it doesn't help that I got completely distracted by the poetry magnets on the refrigerator door either.
I turn my back for a few seconds and WHAM! half my oatmeal is all over the bottom of the microwave. Sad times.
And it doesn't help that I got completely distracted by the poetry magnets on the refrigerator door either.
I turn my back for a few seconds and WHAM! half my oatmeal is all over the bottom of the microwave. Sad times.
Writing in reverse
I'm reading my very first in reverse (including dialogue) book! I don't know how he did it because it's taken me about 50 pages to get used to reading it, so writing it must have been a nightmare, but Martin Amis' Times Arrow is a true literary feat. Not only does the book have to be interesting, but it's got to be interesting in reverse -- how do you even begin as a writer?
I bow down to you, Mr. Amis. You've done a spectacular job. From what I've read about this book (I'm not finished yet) is that it's a story about a Nazi doctor. So instead of going from the beginning to the end and trying to create a sympathetic story for a character that you're bound to hate, we go in reverse with the character's "soul" (very innocent, a bit non-committal about certain acts so far, but very honest in every sense) leading the way to the past.
If you've never thought of how a medical procedure would be in reverse (doctors as torturers instead of healers), then do so and you'll get what I'm taking about here. It makes you see things in a very different perspective (bars are where people drool, the act of going to the bathroom is more an act of receiving, taking a taxi usually takes you to places you don't want to be, etc.). The only thing I have a problem with is dialogue, so I'll read it the way it's written, and then I'll read it the opposite way so I make sure I'm not losing anything.
Very interesting read. A bit challenging, but worth it.
I bow down to you, Mr. Amis. You've done a spectacular job. From what I've read about this book (I'm not finished yet) is that it's a story about a Nazi doctor. So instead of going from the beginning to the end and trying to create a sympathetic story for a character that you're bound to hate, we go in reverse with the character's "soul" (very innocent, a bit non-committal about certain acts so far, but very honest in every sense) leading the way to the past.
If you've never thought of how a medical procedure would be in reverse (doctors as torturers instead of healers), then do so and you'll get what I'm taking about here. It makes you see things in a very different perspective (bars are where people drool, the act of going to the bathroom is more an act of receiving, taking a taxi usually takes you to places you don't want to be, etc.). The only thing I have a problem with is dialogue, so I'll read it the way it's written, and then I'll read it the opposite way so I make sure I'm not losing anything.
Very interesting read. A bit challenging, but worth it.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Another shameful plug
You must, must, MUST check out my little shop on Etsy.com -- zoesoph jewelry. I have added many new things in the past two weeks and currently feature sale items and free shipping on selected pieces.
And if you have a punk or rockabilly chick in your life (or you are one), I have many pieces listed that would tickler her fancy.
I am still in the process of expanding my business to include bags, but for now the sewing maven in me is on a little vacation until after xmas. I'm going to move on to making critters before I tackle a wide range of bags. If you like cats, spiders and goofy blobs, then you watch out....I can fulfill your wildest dreams.
Check out some of these keen pieces currently for sale:
Green Chalcedony Necklace
Copper Necklace
Pink Flower Ming Pottery Shard Necklace
Emerald and Teal Amazonite Bracelet
Seas of Green Choker
Each piece will be shipped in a red velveteen pouch until 12/19!
And if you have a punk or rockabilly chick in your life (or you are one), I have many pieces listed that would tickler her fancy.
I am still in the process of expanding my business to include bags, but for now the sewing maven in me is on a little vacation until after xmas. I'm going to move on to making critters before I tackle a wide range of bags. If you like cats, spiders and goofy blobs, then you watch out....I can fulfill your wildest dreams.
Check out some of these keen pieces currently for sale:
Green Chalcedony Necklace
Copper Necklace
Pink Flower Ming Pottery Shard Necklace
Emerald and Teal Amazonite Bracelet
Seas of Green Choker
Each piece will be shipped in a red velveteen pouch until 12/19!
Goodbye to the Xmas Card
I've decided this year I'm not sending xmas cards out unless it's paired with a gift.
Maybe to family, but even that I'm not sure about.
I say bah hum bug to the xmas card. My husband (who will still be sending out xmas cards if he can find the time to sit himself down and do it) loves the xmas card tradition. He declared this Sunday "xmas day" and we will be getting our xmas cards together. I said he could. I'll do something else. Maybe eat xmas candy and watch TV.
It seems as each year progresses, we get less and less xmas cards in return from people. I know, the xmas card mailing is strictly optional, but I'll tell you, when you start displaying xmas cards from your dentist to make it look like people like you and want to share holiday good wishes, then you've got a problem. And that would be us. Dentist, apartment complex management (that was last year, hopefully this year the HOA at our condo will dole out a few of our own bucks for some generic xmas cards), insurance agent -- you name it. When we get them, we display them to make up for the lack of cards we received from our real friends.
This year I'm not going to worry about it, and so the flood of xmas cards will be plenty, I'm assuming (a joke). My husband can dutifully send out his xmas cards to everyone he knows, and we'll get a few in return, and that's good enough for me.
Oh, and there's nothing like getting the "pity" xmas card -- where you send one to someone you hardly talked to because you got wrapped up in the xmas card fun of the day, so the recipient feels like they should send you one back. And you get it on the 28th, postmarked the 26th.
Oh yes, I notice these things. Don't you believe I don't.
Maybe to family, but even that I'm not sure about.
I say bah hum bug to the xmas card. My husband (who will still be sending out xmas cards if he can find the time to sit himself down and do it) loves the xmas card tradition. He declared this Sunday "xmas day" and we will be getting our xmas cards together. I said he could. I'll do something else. Maybe eat xmas candy and watch TV.
It seems as each year progresses, we get less and less xmas cards in return from people. I know, the xmas card mailing is strictly optional, but I'll tell you, when you start displaying xmas cards from your dentist to make it look like people like you and want to share holiday good wishes, then you've got a problem. And that would be us. Dentist, apartment complex management (that was last year, hopefully this year the HOA at our condo will dole out a few of our own bucks for some generic xmas cards), insurance agent -- you name it. When we get them, we display them to make up for the lack of cards we received from our real friends.
This year I'm not going to worry about it, and so the flood of xmas cards will be plenty, I'm assuming (a joke). My husband can dutifully send out his xmas cards to everyone he knows, and we'll get a few in return, and that's good enough for me.
Oh, and there's nothing like getting the "pity" xmas card -- where you send one to someone you hardly talked to because you got wrapped up in the xmas card fun of the day, so the recipient feels like they should send you one back. And you get it on the 28th, postmarked the 26th.
Oh yes, I notice these things. Don't you believe I don't.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
I always enjoy a mismatched cover song
The Futureheads do a nifty cover of Kate Bush's "Hounds of Love."
While I think it's mismatched, some reviewer thinks it's well-placed.
While I think it's mismatched, some reviewer thinks it's well-placed.
Friday, December 02, 2005
James Frey -- Dave Bazan's double?
I just finished James Frey's A Million Little Pieces.
James Frey and Dave Bazan from Pedro the Lion could easily be long lost brothers or doubles or dopplegangers (have you ever seen them in the same place?).
James Frey and Dave Bazan from Pedro the Lion could easily be long lost brothers or doubles or dopplegangers (have you ever seen them in the same place?).
I could even go so far as to say they both look like Joey Fatone from N*Sync (I had to do plenty of googling to get his name -- I could picture him, but I didn't know his name or what band he's in (first guess: Backstreet Boys)). Hopefully this will be last time I used those two cursed band names in my blog.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Lost
I almost hate writing what happened to me last night because the situation would be something I would make fun of it I saw it happening or someone else told me they did it.
But at the same time, it was so amazingly stupid, that I have to share it. I'll throw it out into the universe and let someone else grab onto it.
I had a late doctor appointment at Kaiser yesterday. The parking lot was pretty packed (doesn't matter what time of day with Kaiser -- it's always packed), and I thought I found a parking spot at the end of a section, next to a curb. I pulled right (the direction, as in left, right) into the spot and saw that it was for car pool cars. So I pulled out and parked in another spot further down.
After my appointment, I walked to the parking and to my car. Correction -- to where I thought my car was. Another car was there. I kept walking down the row. I was looking to my right because that was the direction I remembered parking. I couldn't find it. I went to the next row over. Still couldn't find it. I distinctly remembered walking on the parking lot pavement and not on a sidewalk, so I knew I was in the correct area, but my car was gone.
I walked back over to the area where I thought my car should be and stood there.
My first thought was that they took my company's branding info and not that they took my car. I had taken my branding packet home with me to work on a presentation. Darn it. Now I won't know my brand colors. The next thought was, why would someone steal my car? That's just wrong. No one wants my car. My car is a pin cushion.
I started calling my husband's cell phone and hanging up on the voice mail. I was trying to get my point across to him that I needed him to answer his phone. No answer after 7 calls. By now I looked like an idiot just standing in the parking lot wondering where my car was. So then I tried my mom, who also didn't answer. So I tried my husband again, and finally he answered the phone.
Right at the exact moment that he answered was the exact moment I saw my car -- parked almost opposite of where I thought it was.
"Forget it," I told my husband.
"I was trying to call you!" he said, thinking I was annoyed that he didn't answer the phone.
"No, it's okay. Just forget it." I started to laugh.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Nothing, I'll tell you later," I said.
I was at my car at this point, so I got in quickly and took off. I called him back and told him what I did.
"Lordy," he said.
Maybe it's time to put another Jack in the Box reindeer antenna ball on my antenna.
That or never go out at night alone. I don't see so well in the dark.
But at the same time, it was so amazingly stupid, that I have to share it. I'll throw it out into the universe and let someone else grab onto it.
I had a late doctor appointment at Kaiser yesterday. The parking lot was pretty packed (doesn't matter what time of day with Kaiser -- it's always packed), and I thought I found a parking spot at the end of a section, next to a curb. I pulled right (the direction, as in left, right) into the spot and saw that it was for car pool cars. So I pulled out and parked in another spot further down.
After my appointment, I walked to the parking and to my car. Correction -- to where I thought my car was. Another car was there. I kept walking down the row. I was looking to my right because that was the direction I remembered parking. I couldn't find it. I went to the next row over. Still couldn't find it. I distinctly remembered walking on the parking lot pavement and not on a sidewalk, so I knew I was in the correct area, but my car was gone.
I walked back over to the area where I thought my car should be and stood there.
My first thought was that they took my company's branding info and not that they took my car. I had taken my branding packet home with me to work on a presentation. Darn it. Now I won't know my brand colors. The next thought was, why would someone steal my car? That's just wrong. No one wants my car. My car is a pin cushion.
I started calling my husband's cell phone and hanging up on the voice mail. I was trying to get my point across to him that I needed him to answer his phone. No answer after 7 calls. By now I looked like an idiot just standing in the parking lot wondering where my car was. So then I tried my mom, who also didn't answer. So I tried my husband again, and finally he answered the phone.
Right at the exact moment that he answered was the exact moment I saw my car -- parked almost opposite of where I thought it was.
"Forget it," I told my husband.
"I was trying to call you!" he said, thinking I was annoyed that he didn't answer the phone.
"No, it's okay. Just forget it." I started to laugh.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Nothing, I'll tell you later," I said.
I was at my car at this point, so I got in quickly and took off. I called him back and told him what I did.
"Lordy," he said.
Maybe it's time to put another Jack in the Box reindeer antenna ball on my antenna.
That or never go out at night alone. I don't see so well in the dark.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
