Since I've been homebound this week, I've had a chance to list my jewelry on my etsy shop -- zoesoph jewelry and friends. I also changed my banner, so if looking at my fabulous jewelry isn't enough for you to visit my shop, then look at my cute new banner.
Oh, yeah, and buy something while you're at it!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Sad day in antenna ball history
My husband and I were walking past my car in our parking lot, heading towards the gate to get into our condo complex. I took a glance at my car to see if any new marks or dents have been added to its fine physique.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," I yelled.
"WHAT!?" my husband exclaimed. He really hates it when I just yell out of nowhere. Especially in the car. When he's driving.
"Look at my car! Look what's missing!"
My Jack in the Box antenna ball was missing.
Why must there be such evil in the world? I know he didn't fall off on his own. I know the condo cats didn't eat him because I periodically inspected him for bite marks. This only means some mean person took him from my antenna and called him his/her own.
It really makes me wonder what kind of life my car is leading when I'm not around because a week or two ago I noticed my tire was marked. Like it was parked in a spot with limited parking time. And if that did happen, I certainly wasn't there, so I just wonder what it's doing while I'm at work. Maybe I should enroll my car in a self-defense class so people will keep their paws off of it.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," I yelled.
"WHAT!?" my husband exclaimed. He really hates it when I just yell out of nowhere. Especially in the car. When he's driving.
"Look at my car! Look what's missing!"
My Jack in the Box antenna ball was missing.
Why must there be such evil in the world? I know he didn't fall off on his own. I know the condo cats didn't eat him because I periodically inspected him for bite marks. This only means some mean person took him from my antenna and called him his/her own.
It really makes me wonder what kind of life my car is leading when I'm not around because a week or two ago I noticed my tire was marked. Like it was parked in a spot with limited parking time. And if that did happen, I certainly wasn't there, so I just wonder what it's doing while I'm at work. Maybe I should enroll my car in a self-defense class so people will keep their paws off of it.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Te he llamado por tu nobre. Tu eres mio.
Whatever that means. It's from the bible, that's all I know.
You know how I've mentioned getting phone calls from people who ask for me and speak in Spanish, well, it certainly doesn't stop there. I am now getting more and more mail that's addressed to me, is in Spanish and is religious. I don't speak Spanish nor am I religious, especially Catholic, so I find this all very baffling.
A month or two ago I received a poster of Jesus in the mail, and if you stared at it long enough, you'd see some miracle thing happen (kinda like those posters you'd stare at and then finally see an image). After you saw the miracle, you're supposed to flip the poster over and kneel on it and pray. A poster and a prayer rug! Oh joy.
Yesterday I received a correspondence from the Priests of The Sacred Heart Monastery in Wisconsin. It was all in Spanish, with the above title/quote written on the top. My husband, who does speak Spanish, read the quote to me, and I asked who it was addressed to, even though I knew it was me. I was correct.
But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. Now I'm getting real fancy gifts. I now have my very own "La Familia Zarate" key chain with Jesus and his sacred heart on it. I always wanted mi familia to be recognized in such a splendid fashion, and well, Beato Padre Leo John Dehon, the founder of Priests of The Sacred Heart Monastery in Wisconsin, has allowed this wish to happen.
I don't even know what "Dios bendiga" means, but I know it's something real nice and religiousy.
I wonder what's next? I mean, I wouldn't mind giving money to save some Spanish-speaking kitties. Maybe even adopt a few.
You know how I've mentioned getting phone calls from people who ask for me and speak in Spanish, well, it certainly doesn't stop there. I am now getting more and more mail that's addressed to me, is in Spanish and is religious. I don't speak Spanish nor am I religious, especially Catholic, so I find this all very baffling.
A month or two ago I received a poster of Jesus in the mail, and if you stared at it long enough, you'd see some miracle thing happen (kinda like those posters you'd stare at and then finally see an image). After you saw the miracle, you're supposed to flip the poster over and kneel on it and pray. A poster and a prayer rug! Oh joy.
Yesterday I received a correspondence from the Priests of The Sacred Heart Monastery in Wisconsin. It was all in Spanish, with the above title/quote written on the top. My husband, who does speak Spanish, read the quote to me, and I asked who it was addressed to, even though I knew it was me. I was correct.
But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. Now I'm getting real fancy gifts. I now have my very own "La Familia Zarate" key chain with Jesus and his sacred heart on it. I always wanted mi familia to be recognized in such a splendid fashion, and well, Beato Padre Leo John Dehon, the founder of Priests of The Sacred Heart Monastery in Wisconsin, has allowed this wish to happen.
I don't even know what "Dios bendiga" means, but I know it's something real nice and religiousy.
I wonder what's next? I mean, I wouldn't mind giving money to save some Spanish-speaking kitties. Maybe even adopt a few.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
St. Joachim
My husband was recounting happy, fun catholic church stories to me while we were eating lunch one day. He was talking about the basketball teams between the different Catholic churches where he grew up, when he said, "Saint Jokum." I, of course, started laughing because I couldn't believe that anyone would willingly be called "Saint Jokum" because that's just really lame. He insisted it was correct.
Tonight I was looking up items on etsy and found a store full of handmade rosaries. I asked my husband if "normal" people could do that, or if the rosary should be blessed or something. He said anyone could do it. I then looked up 'holy water' and another rosary came up. The description began with a quote from St. Francis of Assisi, which I was pronouncing "St. Francis is a sissy" and laughing. I brought up the other St. name that I thought was funny, and my husband reminded me that it was St. Jokum.
I wanted to learn more about this St. Jokum, so I asked him how it was spelled, and he told me 'Joachim.' I googled the name, and I kept looking at it thinking how is this name pronounced "jokum"? That's just weird.
My next stop was Merriam-Webster's web site, where I typed in the name and then listened to the pronunciation. You can do this too. It sounds nothing like "jokum," so I immediately informed my husband of this.
"You big dork! It's not 'Jokum,' it's 'yo-kim'!" I turned up the volume of my laptop so he could hear.
"Well, that's how everyone said it!" he told me.
I then reminded him that the "everyone" was in fact a bunch of little kids and that they were probably saying it that was because it's funny. I thought it was funny, and I have a kid's mentality most of the time. Then I reminded him that he's also the one that goes to the "lieberry" and not the "library," and that perhaps he shouldn't have so much faith in how he learned certain words when he was a kid.
And what really gets me is that Spanish speaking people don't pronounce "j" the way anglos do. They pronounce is as a "y," so my name is often pronounced "yaneene." So how did this "j" name pass them by? It had to be joke. I mean a yoke.
Tonight I was looking up items on etsy and found a store full of handmade rosaries. I asked my husband if "normal" people could do that, or if the rosary should be blessed or something. He said anyone could do it. I then looked up 'holy water' and another rosary came up. The description began with a quote from St. Francis of Assisi, which I was pronouncing "St. Francis is a sissy" and laughing. I brought up the other St. name that I thought was funny, and my husband reminded me that it was St. Jokum.
I wanted to learn more about this St. Jokum, so I asked him how it was spelled, and he told me 'Joachim.' I googled the name, and I kept looking at it thinking how is this name pronounced "jokum"? That's just weird.
My next stop was Merriam-Webster's web site, where I typed in the name and then listened to the pronunciation. You can do this too. It sounds nothing like "jokum," so I immediately informed my husband of this.
"You big dork! It's not 'Jokum,' it's 'yo-kim'!" I turned up the volume of my laptop so he could hear.
"Well, that's how everyone said it!" he told me.
I then reminded him that the "everyone" was in fact a bunch of little kids and that they were probably saying it that was because it's funny. I thought it was funny, and I have a kid's mentality most of the time. Then I reminded him that he's also the one that goes to the "lieberry" and not the "library," and that perhaps he shouldn't have so much faith in how he learned certain words when he was a kid.
And what really gets me is that Spanish speaking people don't pronounce "j" the way anglos do. They pronounce is as a "y," so my name is often pronounced "yaneene." So how did this "j" name pass them by? It had to be joke. I mean a yoke.
Monday, March 20, 2006
SF Protest
Today was my hubby's first experience with a protest in SF. I've seen plenty of them since the "war" in Iraq began, so I was very not nonplussed about the whole thing.
A communication was sent out Friday regarding the protest, and that it would begin at 7am on Montgomery Street -- our BART station. My hubby forwarded it to me and asked what I wanted to do about it. Me, being the jerk that I usually am, just made light of it saying that we should run for the hills. Eventually I told my husband not to worry about it, nothing's going to happen because of the time. I just didn't see the protestors going nuts at exactly 7am. I'm an old pro at this, you know.
My husband was still a bit excited about the prospect of a riot forming on Market and New Montgomery / Montgomery, enough so that he told a former co-worker that he will be experiencing his first SF protest tomorrow. I quickly said I didn't think we'd see anything. But again, and as usual, I was ignored. Reality is sometimes so less interesting than anticipation.
We arrived today at 7amish (a bit before), and when we got up to the sidewalk, there wasn't much going on except a bunch of cops all over the place.
Oh, and this guy:
He was on our side of Market (in the above picture he's now on the other side where a majority of the protestors were housed). I pointed to him and told my husband, "There's your protest."
Very disappointing outcome if it was only the big puppet guy.
When we continued down New Montgomery, I was admittedly shocked over the amount of cops that were already waiting for something to happen. Even during the biggest "war" protest yet I didn't see as many coppers as I did this morning. And all of them were carrying a big stick to bonk protestors on the head with!
Boing!
A communication was sent out Friday regarding the protest, and that it would begin at 7am on Montgomery Street -- our BART station. My hubby forwarded it to me and asked what I wanted to do about it. Me, being the jerk that I usually am, just made light of it saying that we should run for the hills. Eventually I told my husband not to worry about it, nothing's going to happen because of the time. I just didn't see the protestors going nuts at exactly 7am. I'm an old pro at this, you know.
My husband was still a bit excited about the prospect of a riot forming on Market and New Montgomery / Montgomery, enough so that he told a former co-worker that he will be experiencing his first SF protest tomorrow. I quickly said I didn't think we'd see anything. But again, and as usual, I was ignored. Reality is sometimes so less interesting than anticipation.
We arrived today at 7amish (a bit before), and when we got up to the sidewalk, there wasn't much going on except a bunch of cops all over the place.
Oh, and this guy:
He was on our side of Market (in the above picture he's now on the other side where a majority of the protestors were housed). I pointed to him and told my husband, "There's your protest."
Very disappointing outcome if it was only the big puppet guy.
When we continued down New Montgomery, I was admittedly shocked over the amount of cops that were already waiting for something to happen. Even during the biggest "war" protest yet I didn't see as many coppers as I did this morning. And all of them were carrying a big stick to bonk protestors on the head with!
Boing!
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Match made in heaven?
I find it very baffling that my husband and I met each other, withstood a million different things that just happen in life but for a long time seemed to happen more often to us than to anyone else (and while we were both young and stupid and naive and green and didn't really know where we were going in life -- kids, take your time -- no rushing!), and got married and stayed married (almost 7 years now...so weird).
But when it comes down to it, we are two peas in a very procrastinating pod, he more so than I.
We have bought a ton of stuff for our condo to help with my 2006 condo beautification plan. We are basically in the position where we can redo our guest bathroom, including new paint (bought yesterday, thank you very much), but as of today, we haven't done a thing. Except buy all the stuff, and even that was a chore when it came down to it.
Is it lack of motivation? We're too busy? I'm not as annoying of a wife as I used to be?
I'm thinking I have a point with the annoying part, because I only mentioned one time to him yesterday, and it was in a soft voice, "You could still put up our mirror...," which was ignored. What mirror? you may be thinking. Oh, a mirror I bought at the end of January. And it's still leaning against our bed. It's supposed to go in the dining area.
The first roadblock (as I like to call them) was that my hubby needed a "stud finder." I declared myself the best stud finder since I always seem to find them without really trying, but he said that wasn't enough. So we bought one at Target. And I thought he'd go home, find them studs (I already did the hard part and measured where the nails should be nailed) and bang, bang, bang -- mirror! But nope. That was not in my hubby's plans.
The package just sat on the counter for a few weeks. Then got moved somewhere else. Sorta like the replacement toilet flusher parts we bought when we first moved -- they're still under the bathroom sink, packaging just like new. Luckily my dad intervened on that one a couple of months ago (he bought his own flusher replacements for us -- and the first one is still sitting under the sinks), and now the guest toilet flushes like a dream.
I don't even know where the stud finder is at this point because my hubby "squirreled" all our recently purchased items away. And when he does that, I tend to forget about the stuff because I can't see it. I need constant reminders that things need to be taken care of. Like piling dishes in the sink -- I know the dishes need to be taken care of. But if you squirrel away all our newly purchased items, then it's like they never existed and nothing gets done.
He even squirreled away some books and a calendar I bought at SFMOMA. One day I opened our coat closet and saw the bag, and thought to myself, "hey.....that's where they are!"
I digress. My original point is that this would drive most people crazy, yet we are very similar in this respect, and we found each other in this crazy world and so nothing ever gets done until one of us gets really motivated to get things done. Or if we invite someone over. Even if they're in the condo for 5 minutes - we like to live in a facade of cleanliness. Each weekend I declare Saturday the "home improvement" day, and each weekend Saturday comes and goes with us getting a late start on everything and by the time we get back home from errands it's like 4 or 5 pm. Who wants to tear apart a bathroom then?
This weekend was no different. We did the one thing we should have just done last weekend, bought the paint for the bathroom, but we came home and watched TV the rest of the night with bouts of annoyances over hotel picks in London. Our condo can fall apart around us, by golly! We have better things to attend to.
I thought maybe today we'd do something, but my husband already decided he wanted to go to his old work and sell CDs and buy stuff and then go grocery shopping.
I'm just wondering when the bathrooms will get their weekly cleaning. And who's going to make dinner? And how much does it cost to hire a handy man?
But when it comes down to it, we are two peas in a very procrastinating pod, he more so than I.
We have bought a ton of stuff for our condo to help with my 2006 condo beautification plan. We are basically in the position where we can redo our guest bathroom, including new paint (bought yesterday, thank you very much), but as of today, we haven't done a thing. Except buy all the stuff, and even that was a chore when it came down to it.
Is it lack of motivation? We're too busy? I'm not as annoying of a wife as I used to be?
I'm thinking I have a point with the annoying part, because I only mentioned one time to him yesterday, and it was in a soft voice, "You could still put up our mirror...," which was ignored. What mirror? you may be thinking. Oh, a mirror I bought at the end of January. And it's still leaning against our bed. It's supposed to go in the dining area.
The first roadblock (as I like to call them) was that my hubby needed a "stud finder." I declared myself the best stud finder since I always seem to find them without really trying, but he said that wasn't enough. So we bought one at Target. And I thought he'd go home, find them studs (I already did the hard part and measured where the nails should be nailed) and bang, bang, bang -- mirror! But nope. That was not in my hubby's plans.
The package just sat on the counter for a few weeks. Then got moved somewhere else. Sorta like the replacement toilet flusher parts we bought when we first moved -- they're still under the bathroom sink, packaging just like new. Luckily my dad intervened on that one a couple of months ago (he bought his own flusher replacements for us -- and the first one is still sitting under the sinks), and now the guest toilet flushes like a dream.
I don't even know where the stud finder is at this point because my hubby "squirreled" all our recently purchased items away. And when he does that, I tend to forget about the stuff because I can't see it. I need constant reminders that things need to be taken care of. Like piling dishes in the sink -- I know the dishes need to be taken care of. But if you squirrel away all our newly purchased items, then it's like they never existed and nothing gets done.
He even squirreled away some books and a calendar I bought at SFMOMA. One day I opened our coat closet and saw the bag, and thought to myself, "hey.....that's where they are!"
I digress. My original point is that this would drive most people crazy, yet we are very similar in this respect, and we found each other in this crazy world and so nothing ever gets done until one of us gets really motivated to get things done. Or if we invite someone over. Even if they're in the condo for 5 minutes - we like to live in a facade of cleanliness. Each weekend I declare Saturday the "home improvement" day, and each weekend Saturday comes and goes with us getting a late start on everything and by the time we get back home from errands it's like 4 or 5 pm. Who wants to tear apart a bathroom then?
This weekend was no different. We did the one thing we should have just done last weekend, bought the paint for the bathroom, but we came home and watched TV the rest of the night with bouts of annoyances over hotel picks in London. Our condo can fall apart around us, by golly! We have better things to attend to.
I thought maybe today we'd do something, but my husband already decided he wanted to go to his old work and sell CDs and buy stuff and then go grocery shopping.
I'm just wondering when the bathrooms will get their weekly cleaning. And who's going to make dinner? And how much does it cost to hire a handy man?
Saturday, March 18, 2006
It's official!
My hubby and I are finally taking the plunge and going to the UK!
I booked our hotel in London today, booked our flight on Friday and I'm in the process of booking our room in Dublin.
Our passport appointment is scheduled. Our travel books are bought.
I already have my favorite British phrase: Madder than a box of frogs.
Now it's just figuring out all the little things. But luckily we have time.
Can't wait for August! (Interesting that my hubby's bday is in August...and we're going in August during his bday week....Does that mean next January we can go somewhere international for my bday? In one word -- NO!)
My kitties need to start kissing up to their Grandmama because they do love her visits so and really want her to take care of them while we're gone. Right, Grandmama?
I booked our hotel in London today, booked our flight on Friday and I'm in the process of booking our room in Dublin.
Our passport appointment is scheduled. Our travel books are bought.
I already have my favorite British phrase: Madder than a box of frogs.
Now it's just figuring out all the little things. But luckily we have time.
Can't wait for August! (Interesting that my hubby's bday is in August...and we're going in August during his bday week....Does that mean next January we can go somewhere international for my bday? In one word -- NO!)
My kitties need to start kissing up to their Grandmama because they do love her visits so and really want her to take care of them while we're gone. Right, Grandmama?
Friday, March 17, 2006
Thursday, March 16, 2006
It's March Madness Time!!!
I don't really like sports. My husband does.
He likes football, basketball, anything that has to do with men willingly hitting, kicking or laying on top of one another, baseball (to a certain extent), fatmen competitions (aka World's Strongest Man competitions). Pretty much anything where there is a lot of action or where men can flex their muscles and show off.
BUT. Ever since last year when I won the March Madness basketball pool, which means I beat my husband and other men who follow the sport, I look forward to this time of year.
March Madness officially kicks off today, and while we can't be in a pool for money this time (no one seems to be gambling at the moment -- oh, wait, it is against the law in California...), I am part of a "virtual" pool on Yahoo!. My husband and his friends are in it too. I plan to kick some major man butt again.
I have my bracket at the ready, my juicy high lighter in hand, and I'm just waiting for the games to begin.
Admittedly, I don't care about the games or the teams. I just like to win. And I will win again because my goal in life is to show-up all men somehow. Oh yes...
He likes football, basketball, anything that has to do with men willingly hitting, kicking or laying on top of one another, baseball (to a certain extent), fatmen competitions (aka World's Strongest Man competitions). Pretty much anything where there is a lot of action or where men can flex their muscles and show off.
BUT. Ever since last year when I won the March Madness basketball pool, which means I beat my husband and other men who follow the sport, I look forward to this time of year.
March Madness officially kicks off today, and while we can't be in a pool for money this time (no one seems to be gambling at the moment -- oh, wait, it is against the law in California...), I am part of a "virtual" pool on Yahoo!. My husband and his friends are in it too. I plan to kick some major man butt again.
I have my bracket at the ready, my juicy high lighter in hand, and I'm just waiting for the games to begin.
Admittedly, I don't care about the games or the teams. I just like to win. And I will win again because my goal in life is to show-up all men somehow. Oh yes...
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Kaiser Pharmacy
Every day at the Kaiser pharmacy is a great day. I write this sarcastically.
Well, tonight was no exception. Quite the bunch of folk at the pharmacy tonight.
The line was so long that it started to loop around instead of just curving. I made my way to the end. This man walked in with coffee in his hand and just moved into line, but I think he figured the lady he cut in front of was ready to kill him, so he got out and moved to the side. Instead of asking what was what, he just stood there and stared at us in line. Like we were monkeys in the zoo. And I do like monkeys, so fine, go ahead and do that.
Then the outside door opened and this huge (as in fat), tall guy walks in. He was just as confused, but he asked where the end of the line was. I raised my hand. The coffee drinker perked up (the monkeys were communicating!) and asked where the end of the line was.
"That would be me," I said. Then I quickly corrected, "Actually, that would be him." I pointed to huge, tall guy whose new name is now doofy (for this blog entry, at least).
He said, very happily I might add (sure signs of doofyness), "Yeah, I'm at the end of the line!"
Coffee drinker moved behind me and dopey was going to slip in behind me when the line curved his way.
"IS IT ALWAYS LIKE THIS??" coffee drinker asked.
The girl in front of me said, "Yes, every night."
I knew this to be untrue, but I decided when I first saw coffee drinker, I was going to play the mute game. I helped herd him in line, my job was done.
"WELL, THIS JUST PLAIN SUCKS!" he announced.
Right then this skinny older man walked in. He was eyeballing the wall of over-the-counter meds. He made his way to where I stood, so I moved out of the way so he could look better. He very politely said "excuse me" and "thank you."
He was dressed in light brown carpenter overalls. And he was wearing a hat. Like a men's sun hat.
Right when he stepped in front of me, coffee drinker belched, "LOOK! IT'S INDIANA JONES!!!"
As with most doofys, dopey somewhat played along, probably for fear that coffee drinker would pick on him. No one else piped up. Silent monkeys, we all became.
The man got what he needed and then made his way to the end of the line.
"He must be from West Virginia," coffee drinker declared to dopey.
"Yeah," dopey replied.
What???! I thought. How asinine could one person be? We all know what living in W. Virginia means. And we all know that people who may be from W. Virginia obviously don't know how to hear, and if by chance they do, then they can't understand the English language. We all know they won't say something back to stupid, loud, coffee drinking men who think we're his entertainment. Heck, if he really wanted to insult the man, he should have said he's from Canada!
A lady walked into the pharmacy about this time and said, "Just tell me who is at the end of the line."
Another guy said it was dopey, coffee drinker and then him.
She said fine, she'd wait until they swung around and she'd get in line.
There was some sort of conversation going on, and then all of a sudden dopey states, "All's I know is that I'm behind this beautiful woman!"
I thought to myself, what beautiful woman? I'm in front of him! What the heck is he talking about?
Then I realized he was talking about me. And it was then that I realized my curse of attracting weirdos and ugly techie guys continues (except for my husband, thank you very much, and my first "real" boyfriend, who I still think is cute). I tell you, if I hadn't of played my cards right, I would most likely be married to dopey because that's all who wants me. Vegas can be a very scary place for a gal like me.
That was when I tuned them all out because it was entering a realm that I didn't want to be part of.
During my second stint in line (oh how I love Kaiser!), I was put into my ultimate nightmare: Two juicy conversations going on at the same time and me only having two ears that need to work together.
I ended up listening more the lady behind me because, well, she was directly behind me. Seems someone came back home and likes to stay out all night. Yup. She's making everyone worried. I mean, if she wants to stay out really late, fine, but she should come home at some time! Especially if she's trying to turn her life around. And she's an adult. Man oh man. And you know what's been going on in this area! (That confused and worried me because I don't know what's going on in the area...and she didn't expand on that subject. Probably should have asked.)
The other conversation was between two old men that knew each other. Apparently someone did something that got cops involved and then in turn made the first old man mad. But I kept tuning out. I just know the first old man has a caravan (mobile home -- I'm trying to learn British slang -- more on that later) with a full tank of gas that has been sitting there for 6 months. Those crazy old folks.
So that concludes tonight's fun at the Kaiser pharmacy. I'm hoping that soon I won't have to make these weekly trips. But I will miss all the craziness. I surely will.
And hey, I'm beautiful and woman, so don't you forget it!
Well, tonight was no exception. Quite the bunch of folk at the pharmacy tonight.
The line was so long that it started to loop around instead of just curving. I made my way to the end. This man walked in with coffee in his hand and just moved into line, but I think he figured the lady he cut in front of was ready to kill him, so he got out and moved to the side. Instead of asking what was what, he just stood there and stared at us in line. Like we were monkeys in the zoo. And I do like monkeys, so fine, go ahead and do that.
Then the outside door opened and this huge (as in fat), tall guy walks in. He was just as confused, but he asked where the end of the line was. I raised my hand. The coffee drinker perked up (the monkeys were communicating!) and asked where the end of the line was.
"That would be me," I said. Then I quickly corrected, "Actually, that would be him." I pointed to huge, tall guy whose new name is now doofy (for this blog entry, at least).
He said, very happily I might add (sure signs of doofyness), "Yeah, I'm at the end of the line!"
Coffee drinker moved behind me and dopey was going to slip in behind me when the line curved his way.
"IS IT ALWAYS LIKE THIS??" coffee drinker asked.
The girl in front of me said, "Yes, every night."
I knew this to be untrue, but I decided when I first saw coffee drinker, I was going to play the mute game. I helped herd him in line, my job was done.
"WELL, THIS JUST PLAIN SUCKS!" he announced.
Right then this skinny older man walked in. He was eyeballing the wall of over-the-counter meds. He made his way to where I stood, so I moved out of the way so he could look better. He very politely said "excuse me" and "thank you."
He was dressed in light brown carpenter overalls. And he was wearing a hat. Like a men's sun hat.
Right when he stepped in front of me, coffee drinker belched, "LOOK! IT'S INDIANA JONES!!!"
As with most doofys, dopey somewhat played along, probably for fear that coffee drinker would pick on him. No one else piped up. Silent monkeys, we all became.
The man got what he needed and then made his way to the end of the line.
"He must be from West Virginia," coffee drinker declared to dopey.
"Yeah," dopey replied.
What???! I thought. How asinine could one person be? We all know what living in W. Virginia means. And we all know that people who may be from W. Virginia obviously don't know how to hear, and if by chance they do, then they can't understand the English language. We all know they won't say something back to stupid, loud, coffee drinking men who think we're his entertainment. Heck, if he really wanted to insult the man, he should have said he's from Canada!
A lady walked into the pharmacy about this time and said, "Just tell me who is at the end of the line."
Another guy said it was dopey, coffee drinker and then him.
She said fine, she'd wait until they swung around and she'd get in line.
There was some sort of conversation going on, and then all of a sudden dopey states, "All's I know is that I'm behind this beautiful woman!"
I thought to myself, what beautiful woman? I'm in front of him! What the heck is he talking about?
Then I realized he was talking about me. And it was then that I realized my curse of attracting weirdos and ugly techie guys continues (except for my husband, thank you very much, and my first "real" boyfriend, who I still think is cute). I tell you, if I hadn't of played my cards right, I would most likely be married to dopey because that's all who wants me. Vegas can be a very scary place for a gal like me.
That was when I tuned them all out because it was entering a realm that I didn't want to be part of.
During my second stint in line (oh how I love Kaiser!), I was put into my ultimate nightmare: Two juicy conversations going on at the same time and me only having two ears that need to work together.
I ended up listening more the lady behind me because, well, she was directly behind me. Seems someone came back home and likes to stay out all night. Yup. She's making everyone worried. I mean, if she wants to stay out really late, fine, but she should come home at some time! Especially if she's trying to turn her life around. And she's an adult. Man oh man. And you know what's been going on in this area! (That confused and worried me because I don't know what's going on in the area...and she didn't expand on that subject. Probably should have asked.)
The other conversation was between two old men that knew each other. Apparently someone did something that got cops involved and then in turn made the first old man mad. But I kept tuning out. I just know the first old man has a caravan (mobile home -- I'm trying to learn British slang -- more on that later) with a full tank of gas that has been sitting there for 6 months. Those crazy old folks.
So that concludes tonight's fun at the Kaiser pharmacy. I'm hoping that soon I won't have to make these weekly trips. But I will miss all the craziness. I surely will.
And hey, I'm beautiful and woman, so don't you forget it!
Flock of Seagulls Guy pt. 2
So I saw the Flock of Seagulls guy again at the Montgomery BART station. I was very sad that my hubby wasn't with me because he would have enjoyed him.
I'm glad to announce that Mr. Flock of Seagulls is still sporting his fantastic hair style while being dashing in a black shirt with black tie. He still walks through the station like he's out to prove something to someone or he's just hoping someone will make fun of his hair style so he can wap them upside the head with his messenger bag.
If you missed my first entry about the Flock of Seagulls guy, you can clickety click here -- pictures are included! (Not of the guy at the station, so don't get all happy -- I just got my camera phone, and he's one guy I'm not going to try to take a sneaky picture of because I'd have a messenger bag hitting me upside the head 2 seconds after I snapped it!)
I'm glad to announce that Mr. Flock of Seagulls is still sporting his fantastic hair style while being dashing in a black shirt with black tie. He still walks through the station like he's out to prove something to someone or he's just hoping someone will make fun of his hair style so he can wap them upside the head with his messenger bag.
If you missed my first entry about the Flock of Seagulls guy, you can clickety click here -- pictures are included! (Not of the guy at the station, so don't get all happy -- I just got my camera phone, and he's one guy I'm not going to try to take a sneaky picture of because I'd have a messenger bag hitting me upside the head 2 seconds after I snapped it!)
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Netflix
Did you know that you can only have 500 movies in your queue?
I should have known something was up when movies I could have sworn I've put in our queue were no longer in our queue. Like the Exorcism of Emily Rose. I was talking about it one day, and so I decided to bump it to the top. When I searched for it on my queue page, it wasn't there. Odd. And then today I realized The Weatherman wasn't in our queue. And I know I put it in there. We watched a preview for Brick, and so I put it in our queue. When I went to look when it was coming out, I couldn't find it. Cause it wasn't there....
That's when I went back and added The Weatherman again and actually read the little message that popped up (I'm bad at reading messages that pop up). It said I had to remove some movies in my queue before I could add more. So I went back to my queue and realized we had 500 movies saved.
I have no idea which movies Netflix dumped to keep it at 500 too.
I'm very sad that we're so greedy.
I should have known something was up when movies I could have sworn I've put in our queue were no longer in our queue. Like the Exorcism of Emily Rose. I was talking about it one day, and so I decided to bump it to the top. When I searched for it on my queue page, it wasn't there. Odd. And then today I realized The Weatherman wasn't in our queue. And I know I put it in there. We watched a preview for Brick, and so I put it in our queue. When I went to look when it was coming out, I couldn't find it. Cause it wasn't there....
That's when I went back and added The Weatherman again and actually read the little message that popped up (I'm bad at reading messages that pop up). It said I had to remove some movies in my queue before I could add more. So I went back to my queue and realized we had 500 movies saved.
I have no idea which movies Netflix dumped to keep it at 500 too.
I'm very sad that we're so greedy.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Jelly Bellies
I'm currently addicted to Jelly Bellies. So I told my hubby I wanted to visit the Jelly Belly store at the Metreon.
When we got there, he decided he was going to get his own bag of jelly bellies. Fine, whatever, you sour-loving candy man! I thought.
I filled my bag up about 1/4 of the way, maybe a bit more. We were at the opposite side of the jelly belly bulk wall, and he came around the corner holding a 3/4 full bag of jelly bellies. That's when I decided I was done because I had no idea how much this was all going to cost.
We both put our bags down on the scale, and it read $18.50 for the total. My husband's eyes got big. He paid. We started walking out.
It was then that he read the sign saying $2.25 per 1/4 lb. He thought it was 1/2 lb (or so he says, which somehow is my fault because I read the sign outloud and he changed my stated 1/4 lb to 1/2 lb -- I reminded him that he knows how to read and should have double-checked me).
I told him that was our lunch out for this week. And that I wish I hadn't of taken him, Mr. Sweet Tooth, to the Jelly Belly store with me.
If only we knew how to diplomatically share things....
When we got there, he decided he was going to get his own bag of jelly bellies. Fine, whatever, you sour-loving candy man! I thought.
I filled my bag up about 1/4 of the way, maybe a bit more. We were at the opposite side of the jelly belly bulk wall, and he came around the corner holding a 3/4 full bag of jelly bellies. That's when I decided I was done because I had no idea how much this was all going to cost.
We both put our bags down on the scale, and it read $18.50 for the total. My husband's eyes got big. He paid. We started walking out.
It was then that he read the sign saying $2.25 per 1/4 lb. He thought it was 1/2 lb (or so he says, which somehow is my fault because I read the sign outloud and he changed my stated 1/4 lb to 1/2 lb -- I reminded him that he knows how to read and should have double-checked me).
I told him that was our lunch out for this week. And that I wish I hadn't of taken him, Mr. Sweet Tooth, to the Jelly Belly store with me.
If only we knew how to diplomatically share things....
Laptop
My laptop died early Friday morning.
I knew it was coming.
At some point my laptop refused to stay on standby. I have this bad habit of turning it on and never turning it off, and I generally cart it around with me around wherever I am (first apartment, then condo), so I used standby more often than maybe I should have, and it just stopped working. It would turn itself back on and run all day and all night for no one. Really, I believe I could have eliminated this if I just demonstrated some patience and let my laptop go to standby all the way, but I have no patience, so I usually just pushed the button and then closed her up.
Then my internet connection died, resurfaced, and died again. So I bought a PC Card and all was okay in the world again. Then then one day I realized I had my connection while not using my PC Card. So yeah, that whole situation was hit or miss.
Then the screws holding the screen to the body of my laptop sorta popped off. Something was still holding the screen on, but I had to get it in that "right" spot otherwise the screen would flop down onto whatever surface I was using to lay my laptop on. I asked my dad to look at it, and he said, like a prophet, "That doesn't sound good, but okay."
Eventually he did look at it, but I can't remember what he said. Probably there was no hope, and when whatever was holding it together decided to pop off, then that would be it for my poor laptop.
And finally, my laptop started refusing to get out of standby mode whenever it would go into it. This started happening several times a day. I would have to shut down my laptop the "incorrect" way and let it restart. I would sometimes get this weird blue background message saying something about windows not shutting down correctly, watch out, she's going to blow....But what the heck was I going to do about it?
And so Friday arrived, my laptop wouldn't come out of standby, I shut her down, restarted, and BAM. Blue screen forever. Seems windows can't start, no matter which option I pick.
I ordered my new laptop from Dell, thanks to some advice received from a friend. My husband was pushing Dell on me from the beginning, and I'm the type that doesn't like to wait, so I almost bought an HP instead. Then I realized the benefits of customization, and now that I've had a laptop for a few years, I knew what I did and didn't want.
The only sad thing is that my life is stuck on my old laptop, and I'm hoping my friend can do something about that when my new laptop shows up.
Keep your fingers/toes crosses.
I knew it was coming.
At some point my laptop refused to stay on standby. I have this bad habit of turning it on and never turning it off, and I generally cart it around with me around wherever I am (first apartment, then condo), so I used standby more often than maybe I should have, and it just stopped working. It would turn itself back on and run all day and all night for no one. Really, I believe I could have eliminated this if I just demonstrated some patience and let my laptop go to standby all the way, but I have no patience, so I usually just pushed the button and then closed her up.
Then my internet connection died, resurfaced, and died again. So I bought a PC Card and all was okay in the world again. Then then one day I realized I had my connection while not using my PC Card. So yeah, that whole situation was hit or miss.
Then the screws holding the screen to the body of my laptop sorta popped off. Something was still holding the screen on, but I had to get it in that "right" spot otherwise the screen would flop down onto whatever surface I was using to lay my laptop on. I asked my dad to look at it, and he said, like a prophet, "That doesn't sound good, but okay."
Eventually he did look at it, but I can't remember what he said. Probably there was no hope, and when whatever was holding it together decided to pop off, then that would be it for my poor laptop.
And finally, my laptop started refusing to get out of standby mode whenever it would go into it. This started happening several times a day. I would have to shut down my laptop the "incorrect" way and let it restart. I would sometimes get this weird blue background message saying something about windows not shutting down correctly, watch out, she's going to blow....But what the heck was I going to do about it?
And so Friday arrived, my laptop wouldn't come out of standby, I shut her down, restarted, and BAM. Blue screen forever. Seems windows can't start, no matter which option I pick.
I ordered my new laptop from Dell, thanks to some advice received from a friend. My husband was pushing Dell on me from the beginning, and I'm the type that doesn't like to wait, so I almost bought an HP instead. Then I realized the benefits of customization, and now that I've had a laptop for a few years, I knew what I did and didn't want.
The only sad thing is that my life is stuck on my old laptop, and I'm hoping my friend can do something about that when my new laptop shows up.
Keep your fingers/toes crosses.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Rumors
My husband told me he had breakfast this morning with some people in our lunchroom.
I thought, great! He's making friends. It's hard being the new person.
He said they were all talking about health and exercising and keeping fit. My husband's favorite topics to talk about.
Then he told me that he shared with his new pals that I lost a lot of weight on weight watchers. And so because I had great results, he went on it too. And lost some weight.
When he told me this, I thought, hmmm....well....that's nice that he's sharing this with other people that I don't really know. And right after giving this information, he confirmed to them that I was his wife. Because people really haven't been sure. Most knew that I was married, but they didn't get why I was eating lunch with this new guy all the time.
As in, oh, your fat wife -- that's Janine?
I was going to let all this go, but then my husband threatened to spread rumors about me because I'm always been interested in other people's business. I said that he can make lots of friends and get scoops and let me know what's what. I don't do anything with the stuff I know. I don't spread rumors; I just like to know stuff.
So that was when I said he already had. I'm going to hear through the rumor mill that I was 300 lbs and a big fatty and needed to get my stomach stapled.
And that was when his sometimes dim lightbulb brightened up and realized that telling people he doesn't really know that I lost a ton of weight on weight watchers maybe wasn't the best idea. Not that I think the 300 lb rumor will run around the place, but come on, man! That's my business!
Although, I did tell someone later in the day that he has what I call "vampire eyes." And that same someone ran over to him and said he's got vampire eyes. And it was all innocence on my part.
So he's a blood sucker and I'm a big fatty deep inside!
I thought, great! He's making friends. It's hard being the new person.
He said they were all talking about health and exercising and keeping fit. My husband's favorite topics to talk about.
Then he told me that he shared with his new pals that I lost a lot of weight on weight watchers. And so because I had great results, he went on it too. And lost some weight.
When he told me this, I thought, hmmm....well....that's nice that he's sharing this with other people that I don't really know. And right after giving this information, he confirmed to them that I was his wife. Because people really haven't been sure. Most knew that I was married, but they didn't get why I was eating lunch with this new guy all the time.
As in, oh, your fat wife -- that's Janine?
I was going to let all this go, but then my husband threatened to spread rumors about me because I'm always been interested in other people's business. I said that he can make lots of friends and get scoops and let me know what's what. I don't do anything with the stuff I know. I don't spread rumors; I just like to know stuff.
So that was when I said he already had. I'm going to hear through the rumor mill that I was 300 lbs and a big fatty and needed to get my stomach stapled.
And that was when his sometimes dim lightbulb brightened up and realized that telling people he doesn't really know that I lost a ton of weight on weight watchers maybe wasn't the best idea. Not that I think the 300 lb rumor will run around the place, but come on, man! That's my business!
Although, I did tell someone later in the day that he has what I call "vampire eyes." And that same someone ran over to him and said he's got vampire eyes. And it was all innocence on my part.
So he's a blood sucker and I'm a big fatty deep inside!
Snorey
There is this guy on the 4:15pm Fremont train that falls asleep and snores incessantly. It's really bad. And at some point, he knows when to stretch himself out with his legs propped up on another bench. He doesn't actually wake up to do this -- he just knows.
Now that I take BART home with my hubby, I can freely laugh at him. See, when you're alone on BART, you can't really laugh at people by yourself. Even if you know that everyone else wants to laugh at the person too. Because that makes you look a little nutty. Now, if you catch someone else's eye and see them smiling, you can turn that into a moment and laugh. Hopefully that person will laugh with you.
So the positive of having your hubby on BART with you is that you can laugh and laugh, and even if the guy wakes up and realizes you're laughing at him, your hubby can pop him one in the face. But the guy never wakes up. So that will never happen.
Yesterday I was laughing because by the time we got to Fremont, the guy was making quite the racket with his snoring. My free laughing made the guy across from us laugh because it was totally bizarre. Then I noticed others near Mr. Snorey were beginning to laugh.
And the really sad part about this? The guy takes the train home with his mom. She never really sits near him, but she wakes him up and gets him off the train. How'd you like to be that sort of mom?
Now that I take BART home with my hubby, I can freely laugh at him. See, when you're alone on BART, you can't really laugh at people by yourself. Even if you know that everyone else wants to laugh at the person too. Because that makes you look a little nutty. Now, if you catch someone else's eye and see them smiling, you can turn that into a moment and laugh. Hopefully that person will laugh with you.
So the positive of having your hubby on BART with you is that you can laugh and laugh, and even if the guy wakes up and realizes you're laughing at him, your hubby can pop him one in the face. But the guy never wakes up. So that will never happen.
Yesterday I was laughing because by the time we got to Fremont, the guy was making quite the racket with his snoring. My free laughing made the guy across from us laugh because it was totally bizarre. Then I noticed others near Mr. Snorey were beginning to laugh.
And the really sad part about this? The guy takes the train home with his mom. She never really sits near him, but she wakes him up and gets him off the train. How'd you like to be that sort of mom?
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
New Trend in Verbs
Someone told me today that they were going to "task" something to me to "get it off [her] plate."
So, "task" is the new "give."
And what she really meant was, "I don't want to be responsible for this, so I'm going to make you do it."
When I started my first "real" job (aka in an office where I slowly turned into a drone and lost all creativity), I really abhorred (yes, abhorred, not hated, ABHORRED) the words people used. Like "sharing" instead of "I want to tell you you did something bad and now our customers hate us"; and "reinventing the wheel" instead of "You dummy, don't do that again and waste everyone's time!"; and "challenge" instead of the infamous and often whispered "problem." I mean, come on, let's not "beat around the bush" and just get to the point. Say what you mean, mean what you say. Let's not talk in cliches and officespeak!
But then, after years of listening to the language, I sorta adapted and found myself saying the same terms. Okay, most of the time I'm making a joke of the terms, but I do admit I have said them seriously on occasion. So I was more than pleased to learn that "task" is a verb. I know it wasn't used in the sentence as the verb, but I figure that time is pretty close: "I tasked that yesterday." "You - you task in the corner." "Task to Starbucks and get me a drink!"
So I gave myself the task of tasking this thought in my blog. Task away, I say!
So, "task" is the new "give."
And what she really meant was, "I don't want to be responsible for this, so I'm going to make you do it."
When I started my first "real" job (aka in an office where I slowly turned into a drone and lost all creativity), I really abhorred (yes, abhorred, not hated, ABHORRED) the words people used. Like "sharing" instead of "I want to tell you you did something bad and now our customers hate us"; and "reinventing the wheel" instead of "You dummy, don't do that again and waste everyone's time!"; and "challenge" instead of the infamous and often whispered "problem." I mean, come on, let's not "beat around the bush" and just get to the point. Say what you mean, mean what you say. Let's not talk in cliches and officespeak!
But then, after years of listening to the language, I sorta adapted and found myself saying the same terms. Okay, most of the time I'm making a joke of the terms, but I do admit I have said them seriously on occasion. So I was more than pleased to learn that "task" is a verb. I know it wasn't used in the sentence as the verb, but I figure that time is pretty close: "I tasked that yesterday." "You - you task in the corner." "Task to Starbucks and get me a drink!"
So I gave myself the task of tasking this thought in my blog. Task away, I say!
Monday, March 06, 2006
Am I the only one?
I just watched most of Walk The Line, the movie about Johnny Cash.
First off, I'm not a fan of Mr. Cash. I can take some of his songs, and I admit they are good for bar sing-a-longs, but generally I'd rather listen to Donovan than Johnny Cash. At least Donovan sounds a bit happy even though that happiness stems from taking drugs. I think.
Secondly, this movie stinks. It's not a movie. If you take all the singing out, the actual movie part of it would be maybe 45 minutes. That's a TV movie with all the commercials.
I don't get why everyone was saying this was going to win awards. The actors -- Joaquin and Reese -- they did a great job. I'd rather listen to Joaquin sing Johnny Cash songs than the Man in Black himself, and Reese is always a pleasure to watch on the big screen. But now I think Joaquin is having identity issues because of his stint at Folsom prison a month ago, and Reese, well, now that she's won an Oscar, her head might get ballooned up. I predict a divorce from Ryan Phillippe some time soon....
I have yet to finish the movie, which is a good indication in my book that I don't care about it. If you haven't seen it yet, it goes like this:
Brother dies as a young kid, father hates Johnny, Johnny goes into the service, Johnny comes back and marries girl he knew for one month, Johnny starts music career, cheats on wife, takes drugs, divorces wife at some point (didn't get that far in the movie) and marries June Carter. And finally, Johnny dies.
I guess you can't really stretch that out for two hours. Why not fill up the gaps with lots of singing?
First off, I'm not a fan of Mr. Cash. I can take some of his songs, and I admit they are good for bar sing-a-longs, but generally I'd rather listen to Donovan than Johnny Cash. At least Donovan sounds a bit happy even though that happiness stems from taking drugs. I think.
Secondly, this movie stinks. It's not a movie. If you take all the singing out, the actual movie part of it would be maybe 45 minutes. That's a TV movie with all the commercials.
I don't get why everyone was saying this was going to win awards. The actors -- Joaquin and Reese -- they did a great job. I'd rather listen to Joaquin sing Johnny Cash songs than the Man in Black himself, and Reese is always a pleasure to watch on the big screen. But now I think Joaquin is having identity issues because of his stint at Folsom prison a month ago, and Reese, well, now that she's won an Oscar, her head might get ballooned up. I predict a divorce from Ryan Phillippe some time soon....
I have yet to finish the movie, which is a good indication in my book that I don't care about it. If you haven't seen it yet, it goes like this:
Brother dies as a young kid, father hates Johnny, Johnny goes into the service, Johnny comes back and marries girl he knew for one month, Johnny starts music career, cheats on wife, takes drugs, divorces wife at some point (didn't get that far in the movie) and marries June Carter. And finally, Johnny dies.
I guess you can't really stretch that out for two hours. Why not fill up the gaps with lots of singing?
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