 |
| Someone's been playing with Picassa again. |
1. I am in desperate need of a blow up doll. Not for that. I need one to ride shotgun so I can use the carpool lane. What? You think I could make this simpler by getting a real person to commute with me? Please. That would be way more trouble than it's worth. A real person would expect me to make conversation. A real person might ask me to compromise on the radio station we listen to. They'd expect me to not let out air. Which I never do, but still. If a chick toots and there's no one there to hear/smell it, it never happened. I'll bet a real person would be offended if I plucked a chin hair at a red light.
Human being = obligations, manners and expectations. Griselda the Amazing Latex Friend = speedier commute without the hassles.
2. There's that guy at the office. Two actually. You know. Very serious. Very busy. And these are very serious times. I don't mean to make light of the good work they're doing on behalf of the organization.
But.
Anytime I'm doing something boneheaded or embarrassing like crawling around on the floor moving my computer tower or missing my mouth with a spoonful of yogurt as I eat lunch at my desk or like when the caterers spilled iced tea in the tiled foyer and needed napkins to sop up the spill and I wasn't supposed to leave the phones at the front desk, but dashed down the hall to the mail room where I know we keep the overstock of napkins....
A top-heavy woman dashing in a pencil skirt and pumps? Not a pretty sight.
Of course one of those guys was rounding the corner. One of them is always there to bear witness to my doofishness.
Which reminds me - whoever invented "soft" multi-line phone buttons that change when a new line rings in, should be strung up alongside the sadists who invented underwire bras, pantyhose, The Grapefruit Diet and Fox News.
3. Speaking of that guy, there was a different guy on I75 yesterday. He apparently enjoyed my singing with emotive facial expressions and hand gestures as we sat in bumper to bumper traffic. What can I say? Norah Jones makes me invisible. Or so I thought.
He beeped to get my attention and applauded when I looked his way. Lucky for him, me and my bad singing were walled off from the world. I blew him a kiss and he caught it with a big goofy grin.
My lane started moving. The moment was over.
4. At our house, they're called Sloppy Jews. But don't be fooled. They taste just like my mother makes them with ketchup, mustard and brown sugar.
5. I caught the stealth carpet pooper in the act today. Booing him loudly as he finished his business didn't stop him mid-dookie, but it sure made me feel better. Sadly, shame has no sway over felines.
6. Atlanta needs a decent traffic report that isn't part of the AM right wing talk station. If I have to continue listening to Sean Hannity just to find out if I should take I75, I285 or I20, I will very likely have an aneurysm. Today he and his guests were talking about why George Zimmerman isn't a murderer. One of his young female guests was quick to point out that young Martin had been suspended from school. Can we start executing kids for being suspended from school because that means I should at least be able to taze my kids for backtalk. Or, you know, that electric cattle prod is just collecting dust since MathMan and I gave up those particular role-playing games......
7. Every morning, it's the same thing - straight or curly? Burn myself on the flat iron or the curling iron? Life was much easier when the question was simply shower or not shower? This morning, I made pin curls which turned out quite nicely, but Mathman was concerned that I was going to leave the house with the coils pinned to my head with bobby pins. Bless his heart. But will he tell me when my shirt is on wrong-side out? Of course not.
8. Shredding is most gratifying. I like to call it destroying the evidence. I don't think the shredder is supposed to smoke though.
9. MathMan and I are in a bit of a standoff. I had a fit about the lack of division of labor around here. I shouted something about if I was going to do the majority of the housework, baseball bleacher sitting, kid management, hunting and gathering, doctor/dentist appointment making and keeping, bill paying and cooking, then I sure as hell will not be taking care of the yard, too. Then I scooched up a little higher on that cross and got comfortable.
All of which explains the backyard.
Weedy. But don't the dogwoods look lovely?
Hi! What's growing on you?
You carflirt, you! I need to switch to Norah Jones, because growling out Metallica just isn't getting the ovations . . . Though it is an outlet for the commuter rage.
ReplyDeleteWith your lovely singing voice, Sarah, you should definitely give Norah Jones a try.
DeleteWe are haphazard yard care people. In our defense, the retired neighbors around our place have truckloads of yard work people who descend upon their homes, scatter about & whip those corner lots into Sunset magazine glory. Our yard is a whole 'nuther story. We both work full time, so we tackle the battle with the weeds (they are winning by the way), but we drag our exhausted asses out on our days off & do what we can o keep the weed from taking over entirely. There are random sprints-- where a yardwork marathon happens, and a random thought of "I'll do some yardword", turns into a 6 hour event. In the end the yard looks great & I feel the pain. I may be limping, but dammit, those edges are trimmed.
ReplyDeleteOur corner lot eats weed whackers. People used to do all that by hand?
I started out my workday by heading up the final stretch up the deadend road that leads to my workplace.
There was an 18 wheeler smack dab in the middle of the road, trying to make a tight turn. Apparently it overshot the correct angle, so suddenly the freaking semi truck starts backing up.
Holy crap! I'm beeping my Toyota horn... to no avail, He's backing up slowly but I need to scramble to get the hell out from behind him. The road has a busy turnoff & I though holy crap! if there are vehicles behind me.... what the hell will I do? I'd have to drive backwards in the wrong lane. Waaaay too much excitement @ 7:50 am-- not only will I freaking be late, but now maybe dead!
Ugh! So there's my gem of wisdom..... stay way the #$#% backed off of semi trucks!
Yikes, Fran! I don't ever want to see a semi backing up in my direction like that.
DeleteAs for the yard work, I used to be sore every spring from taking on too much. Perhaps I've learned my lesson?
Don't worry too much about the guy seeing you singing in the traffic. It probably wouldn't have turned into true love. Just a passing fancy.
ReplyDeleteHa! Yes, a passing fancy. I'm sure he applauds all the girls, too. He had the look of a shameless flirt about him. (Takes one to know one, right?)
DeleteWhy worry about traffic reports? Check the tv before leaving the house, and then just listen to your music on the way in to work. My experience with Atlanta was always that it doesn't matter which route a person takes, you're always screwed. And it's always the perfect excuse for being late. All you have to do is snarl the word "traffic!" and everyone makes commiserating noises. (If I could get away with occasionally playing the Atlanta traffic card, anyone can -- I lived walking distance from the office.)
ReplyDeleteI wish, Nan. It's not the morning drive that gets me. It's the one at the end of the day when I'm tired and just want to get home. The office is by the airport (I can see the parked planes from the window). I check WSB radio and TV and the Navigator website before I leave the office, but you know how ATL is. 75 can be all clear one minute and a huge jam up the next.
DeleteWe really need to move closer to the office.
I Would be glad to listen to Atlanta traffic on XM for you. I'll send reports via Twitter.
ReplyDeleteIf you'll just send me the channel number for the ATL traffic, I'll listen myself. Why can I never find it when I need it, Steve?
DeleteBut if you want to tweet me with updates, that would be divine, too.
For me, #7 would be: Every morning, it's the same thing: straight or straight? Flat or flatter?
ReplyDeleteI'm the type of person who tried to get a perm as a young teen and, after all the chemicals and rollers and waiting, the hairdresser took everything out and my hair fell....completely flat. She said it was because I had "virgin hair." And don't even get me started on that ripoff "Wash & Curl" shampoo.
My kingdom for hair with body...
My kingdom for an answer to the bird's nest.
DeleteRunning in a pencil skirt? No, no. Those are only for gliding, like Joan on Mad Men. Let your tits lead the way.
My kids have really straight hair, too, Laura. And MathMan and I both have wavy hair.
DeleteI guess we're just like Prince's mother. Never satisfied.
Averil - I must remember that. Gliding......
DeleteI can see that the Economy has been rough on you and that you are increasingly being disenchanted with Obama. Hopefully, you have been reading some Economics lik Friedman's Capitalism & Freedom. You do not seem to want Holy Islamic Sharia to be the Law of the Land. Besides, you would not look good in a Burqua. Say the word and I'll be the first to welcome you to the GOP.
DeleteNo one expects the Spanish Inquisition, but they should. What's this yardwork that you speak of? Is that some weird Georgia thing?
ReplyDeleteLovely dogwoods!
ReplyDeletestealth carpet pooper
Band Name.
~
I am so pissy. It must be good for my writing though because I sure am productive this week.
ReplyDeleteThe pissier I am, the easier the writing goes. My lucky lucky husband.
DeleteI knew a woman who traveled everywhere with the top half of a male mannequin in her car not because of carpooling but because she was scared to look like she was alone. I once suggested a toy AK47 slung across his chest but she thought that would be too much.
ReplyDeleteWatching you crawl around wearing your pencil skirt and high heeled pumps might actually be quite entertaining for them.
My friend mentioned above would have had a heart attack if anyone in another car noticed her.
I think your garden looks wonderful. We still have yellow grass here and no leaves at all - never mind flowering trees.
You write the funniest posts. I can personally testify that if a woman passed air and it's not heard it doesn't count :)
ReplyDelete"Then I scooched up a little higher on that cross and got comfortable."
ReplyDeleteI'm going to be laughing at that one all day. Right before I head for hell in a hand basket.
I just walked into the living room and casually told Chachi, "We need to buy Lisa a Blow Up Doll and mail it to her". He turned from his video game, eyebrows raised, and didn't say a word. "She needs it for her commute", I continued. He leaned to the right, punched his right ear and shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "You heard me. BLOW. UP. DOLL. COMMUTE." Then I left the room. I think he's still sitting in the living room, trying to make sure that he really heard what I said.
ReplyDeleteSo, Lisa. Do you want a blonde or a brunette?
You're stuck with Sean Effing Hannity to get drive-time traffic? I think you should get paid lots extra for that. And what is this tooting you speak of? The only females I know who pass air are these 2 dogs and man-oh-man you don't want to be in the room when that happens.
ReplyDeleteSee you Thursday!! (this gives me the giggles)
I have never personally experienced any air-letting-out, but if I ever did, it might have been when I got into an elevator, alone, and then it stopped on the next floor and a handsome man got on with his dog, and then after a few moments apologized for his dog, and I let him.
ReplyDeleteWhen you listen to Hannity, just do as I do: Imagine him as an Undercover Nathan Lane, spewing his Acidic Hate while sitting there in DRAG. Works for me EVERY SINGLE TIME. [My apologies to Nathan Lane, whom I adore.]
ReplyDelete1. Made me think of a Curb Your Enthusiasm Episode when Larry David hired a hooker so he could use the carpool lane to get to a baseball game!
ReplyDelete2. Oh yes, I am quite familiar with being caught doing something humiliating by a Mr. Serious type.
3. Singing loudly in traffic = awesome.
4. Sloppy Jews! AHAHhahahHHhahahahah
5. Damn that carpet popper.
6. I wish I could taze my son sometimes too.
7. I always vote for curly hair.
8. The joys of shedding are endless.
9. No yardwork for you! And those trees look lovely!
My hair has suddenly grown curly in my mid-life. My hairdresser says it's due to hormones. *sigh* As if you need to tell a 50-year-old woman her hormones are out of whack.
ReplyDeleteI have the same dilemma every morning--use the flat iron so it straightens out nicely, or let it remain in a slept-upon mangled mess of cowlicks.
Not being a morning person, I let the cowlicks lie where they fall.
I have the same issue with random curls & cowlicks. I refer to it as "the white girl dreds"; my co-workers tell me that I have "Rock Star Girlfriend Hair".
DeleteI guess it's all in how you look at it! :)
Ha! I hope you're really enjoying your job--I'm SURE you've got to like working again.. But yeah... that commute surely sucks. I've been lucky to not have to drive for my commute--in Portland we had really good public transportation, and HERE I walk. I suppose though, nobody applauds me when I wam walking and reading...
ReplyDeleteI'm picturing you driving along with the auto-pilot from Airplane!
ReplyDeleteOr maybe the "emergency guest" from the early years of Conan O'Brien
ReplyDeleteYou know, the Brits work very hard to make their gardens look naturally wooly. You could claim that as your method. Just saying. Glad the job is good.
ReplyDeleteGreat post with lots of laughs - thanks, I needed it! Glad your job is going well despite being caught in the act of being doofy a few times. I spent most of my working life being doofy and it worked for me! LOL about the stealth pooper. I never catch ours in the act but since we only have one cat he knows I know who he is.
ReplyDeleteSounds like working life to me. And yes, the dogwoods look very lovely :).
ReplyDelete