It’s bad enough that folks don’t turn off their cell phone ringers (as they were recently instructed to do!) and that they don’t go out into the hallway to take calls (as they were also instructed to do!), but twice today, two different coworkers have taken calls that were so damned loud I could make out every single word from the person they were talking to. How rude!
Category: Crankypantsing
A PSA About Baby Powder
Mist Rising from Fish Creek
Folks, if you’re going to slather yourself in scented products, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, stay away from the ones that smell like baby powder. Do you really want to go around reeking of something that is so closely associated with the smell of dirty diapers? Because if you think it’s a good idea for a grown human to smell like a baby’s ass, I’m here to tell you that it’s not.
Dis-gusting
I just returned from the kitchenette, where someone reeked to high heavens of baby powder. All I have to say is that, to anyone who has actually had a baby or has spent much time caring for one, baby powder smells like ass. I think we can all agree that eau d’ass is an odor that has no business in a kitchen. M’kay?
Bouncy-bouncy E-mail
Also! If you e-mailed me near the end of July, and did not get an answer, it’s likely that your message went bouncy-bouncy or was sucked into a black hole. I might never have noticed there was a problem, except that I belong to several Yahoo groups and mail from them stopped. After a few days of no Yahoo mail, it occurred to me that there might be a bounce problem. Duh. I don’t know what the problem was, but it seems to have cured itself.
So, if I didn’t respond, it wasn’t because I was ignoring you. At least, not on purpose. If it was something important, please to be resending advTHANKSance!1!!!
That is all.
It’s the Heat *and* the Humidity
It’s supposed to be the hottest day yet, with temps in the mid-90s. At 5am it was already 75F and 90% humidity. Of course, that meant I got to work to find that chilled water will be rationed today and that they’re asking everyone to conserve electricity. As soon as the e-mail arrived, folks turned on their fans! Hello!!! Electricity conservation does not involve turning on power-sucking fans. It especially does not mean turning on power-sucking fans when the AC is still on. *boggle*
I have a feeling that this afternoon will be a lot of No Fun.
Patriarchy Blaming at the Grocery Store
I went into town this morning to run some errands. Stopping at the grocery store was at the top of the list. It’s Babbs’ 75th anniversary, and the place was packed. It was worth dealing with the wall-to-wall crowd, though, because their produce is really nice (e.g. beautiful green peppers that were grown locally for 50¢ each–mmmmmm).
There were long lines at each of the check-outs, so I had a bit of a wait. The old guy in front of me was chatting with a friend about how it sucked to be 80 years old. He just can’t do the things he could when he was 70. They commiserated for awhile, then, when the old guy’s turn came, he started bantering with the cashier, who must’ve been 16 but looked more like 13. The old guy hassled her about this and that, but she didn’t take any shit from him. Good for her! As he was loading up his things and she began checking my items, she told me to feel free to run over him with my cart. I said I was seriously considering it. He turned around and said, “God gave women such beautiful bodies, with pretty hair and eyes and all those curves. And then he had to go and ruin it by putting a mouth on you.” Hivemindy! I was thinking just the same thing about offensive, dirty old men!
Yaknow, I don’t know which is worse, men who think they have a God-given right to leer at women (or, worse, under-age girls!) or men who exert their white male privilege in order to put uppity girls in their places. Lucky me, I didn’t have to choose, because this asshole was a two-fer!
It’s Non-sequitur Friday!
- Seen at the gas station this ayem: old Pontiac Sunbird with a large steel hasp and padlock securing the hood. It was not entirely unlike this. The car’s back end was plastered with surfer-tattoo-heavy metal type bumper stickers. Duuuude!
- You’ve heard the ridiculous “The internet is a series of tubes” story? Well, now you can get the shirt! I really want one. They’re hand screened and numbered, and well worth the $20. Proceeds go to benefit community radio, so it’s for a very good cause.
- I’ve seen three red foxes this week–one on my road and two in Bloomington. I think, to see foxes, you need to be out and about at about a half hour before sunrise. They seem to be heading home at about that time.
- There was a Watchtower tucked inside my storm door when I came home the other day. So now I’m on the look-out for Jehovah’s Witnesses. I didn’t know we had them in our neck of the woods!
- Misogynistic t-shirt sighting, on frat boy: [University of Chicago:] If it were easy, it’d be your mom.
- It’s always allergy season for me, but ragweed is fixin’ to bloom soon, and that’s when the real fun starts. My eyes are getting itchy, my head’s congested, and I’ve got a sore throat. I suppose it could be a cold, but I don’t think it is.
- I saw the BoD’s Eeevil-ganger again yesterday, pulling into Casey’s convenience store. I kinda feel like Mr. Bean hunting down the little blue car Reliant. Only with more self-restraint.
Perhaps the, um, liberal application of more bumper stickers is called for?
- I have to mow this weekend. There’s no way I can avoid it. The grass is so long that it’s hiding bunnies right under Miss Brown’s nose. You have not seen a pissed off Boxer until you’ve seen Harriet realize that she let one get away. I think her ears melted a little bit from the steam shooting out of them.
- Metallica has finally sold out completely. And I thought they already had!
And, now, some happy sunshine reflecting on water, courtesy of my neighbor’s pond. Petsitting has its perks, you see. I’m going to be doing more of the same this weekend, so I’m likely to take more pictures. I’m hoping to get some close-ups of the bitty eraser-sized toadlets that occasionally hop across the driveway. They are ridiculously small and cute and precious. Of course, I only ever see them when I do not have my camera with me.
Server Not Found
It’s hot in here (or maybe it’s that I just chugged a huge cup of coffee?), the server is down system-wide, I overslept, and I’m tired and cranky.
I put $20 worth of gas in my car this morning, and the tank wasn’t even half full. There was a long line at the gas station because some jackass was buying lotto tickets–one of each kind, no less. Why, oh why, do people need to buy dozens of scratch-off tickets at 5am? I think maybe there should be separate gas stations for people who–wait for it!–actually want to purchase gas. And, if lotto tickets weren’t enough of an aggravation, they’ve installed a hot food kiosk in the center of the main aisle for breakfast sandwiches, hot dogs, and some sort of hamburger-y monstrosity. With “fix-ins” bar. O ick. Who in their right mind buys shriveled up hot dogs from a gas station? I suspect, whoever they are, they’ve got a death wish.
On the other hand, gas in Spencer was 17¢ cheaper than in E-ville or B-ton, so it could’ve been worse. And, at the Spencer Bigfoot, you aren’t subjected to hipster music. I win!
Speaking of cars, I looked at my pay stub yesterday, to see how much my pitiful raise actually amounts to in take-home dollars. I’m still being charged for an A tag, even though I down-graded to a C. An A tag is about 3x as much as a C, so the difference is substantial.
Photo: Harriet Brown blowing drooly spit bubbles while staring at french fries
Pod People
Spiderwort with Bee-thing
Have you ever had one of those days when it seems like everyone around you has been abducted by aliens and replaced with pod people? And then, you realize that it must be you who is off kilter, because no matter how much you enjoy a good conspiracy theory, the Horns of Disbelief won’t quite stand up to the possibility of a mass pod people infestation.
I’m having one of those days, and about the best I can manage is a baffled “WTF?”
Make it Stoooooop
Is it wrong that I want to kick John Lovitz in the shins?
red paper boat 