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Three for Thursday: Random Thoughts

21 Mar

Here are three random thoughts from the past few weeks that have no unifying theme and don’t really warrant their own blog posts. But were too ridiculous to not share. Hence, my new feature: Three for Thursday.

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Image Source: © 2013 pithypants + CVS PharmacyI stopped by CVS on my way to work one morning last week. Even though I’m a morning person, the time change threw me off, so I was a bit groggy. As I used the self-checkout scanner, the persistent voice asked, “Do you have your Extra Care Card?”

Except my ears were foggy and I heard it as, “Extra HAIR Card.”

And I thought, “Now THAT would be a loyalty program. Hell yeah. Sign me up.”

…

On that same walk to work, I spotted two cranes in motion, high in the sky. (The construction kind, not the bird kind, but I can see how you might be confused.)

I looked at the little operator booth, some 20+ stories in the air, supported only by the narrow column of scaffolding. I shook my head, thinking, “No way would I ever be a crane operator – I don’t care HOW much the job pays.”

Then I thought, “Do they have to climb down that little ladder every time they have to pee?”

Then I realized they were probably like guys on a roadtrip, priding themselves on being able to pee into any container that had a lid. I shuddered to think of the Mountain Dew bottles the carried back down the ladder with them at the end of the day.

Also? Pretty sure there aren’t any crane operators with Crohn’s.

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Image Source: http://cl.jroo.me/z3/4/L/d/e/a.baa-Mouse-Laundry.jpgLaundry Philosophy. Can we agree that it’s not important to sort loads according to color? And that instead it is preferable to sort loads based on what touches your face vs. your butt?

I’d just feel so much better using a cloth napkin at your house if I knew you hadn’t washed it with your like-colored underwear.

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Quick: where can I buy a burkini?

10 Mar

I made a horrible mistake: I was at the store last week and decided to try on a swimsuit. GASP. The horror.

I usually don’t spend a lot of time obsessing over my body. As long as it’s strong and doesn’t prevent me from doing something, I’m generally happy with it. I’ve never, actually, been on a diet of any kind in my life. Which might explain how I ended up accidentally ended up piling on the Freshman 30 (that’s a thing, right?) at MSU without realizing it.

And yet, there I was, viewing myself in the three-way mirror, realizing that the bikini bottoms looked more like the twist that separates sausage links than simply something simply covering my butt crack. It served to bisect my body, allowing the top half to pile up on the lower half.

And now I’ve just booked a ticket to visit my aunt in Florida in three weeks. Which means some drastic action is required.

No, not a diet. BE REAL.

Does anyone know where Nigella Lawson purchased this little number?

Image Source: http://www.beachbelievers.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/burkini2.jpg

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Four Random Observations

3 Jul

RANDOM THOUGHT #1: Just called a person named Gene. Opened the call by saying, “Hi, Gene!” and then completely cracked up and couldn’t finish my message because I was hung-up on having said “hygiene.” I’m sure that *never* happens to him.

Also? I’m wondering about people named Jack now. Hijack? After some serious head-scratching, I’m really glad to report that I can’t think of anyone I know named “Brid,” “Biscus,” “Jinx,” or “Min.” If you do, please give me a reason to call them.

Double also? Good thing I don’t want to reproduce. Otherwise, guess what I’d name my kid? Now it’s a toss up between Perbolee,  and Bernate – both of which sound like they could kind of work in the south. (And yes, I realize I’ve played with the spelling. I tried to make them more name-y, so chill, Spelling Police.) 

RANDOM THOUGHT #2: Just me, or do raw onions smell like concentrated body odor. I pitched some off my salad and into the sink, and every time I venture into my kitchen now I think there’s a homeless man hiding behind the fridge.

RANDOM THOUGHT #3: I don’t care how shiny it makes things – you should NEVER use furniture polish to buff your floor. Even if you plan to run around barefoot, it’s a BAD idea. And if you wear socks? Forget about it. Trainwreck.

RANDOM THOUGHT #4: The best time to color your hair is NOT after you’ve finished a ten mile bike ride on a hot day. Unless you enjoy trying to shove the equivalent of ballpark franks into thin plastic gloves. Actually, maybe this needs to be broader: do not attempt to put on thin plastic gloves immediately after riding a bike. That means you, dentists, surgeons, pedicurists, and proctologists.

Just me, or is one of those things not like the others? Clearly the dentist, because they’re the only ones who put their hands somewhere most people don’t find gross.

Actually, now that I re-read this, rather than labeling this “Random Observations,” I’m thinking it should simply be called “Tips.” Consider this a summary of my advice to you:

  1. Don’t use the word “hi” when opening a phone conversation unless you’ve thought through the implications
  2. Name your child the suffix of a word that begins with “hi”
  3. Don’t put onions in your sink
  4. Only use furniture polish on your floor if you want to watch guests fall down (who doesn’t!?) 
  5. Don’t ride a bike
  6. Get a pedicure
You. Are. Welcome.

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Rub, rub, barf. This one’s all over the place.

23 May

There was a moment during my most recent massage (the one following the fire-alarm facial) when I’m pretty sure I heard my masseuse gag. She was pregnant, in her first trimester, and – as I lay face-down on the table – I heard her swallow a wave of nausea.

It got me wondering how many people have ever been barfed on in the middle of a professional massage.

I mean, surely it’s happened to someone. I want to interview that person.

Suddenly, my massage was mentally hijacked… in my best Barbara Walters’ voice, I imagined myself prompting, “So Donna. You were face-down, expecting a relaxing massage. Take us back to that moment. When did you realize you were bathed in vomit rather than massage oil?”

At some point, I realized that it was probably not natural to spend a portion of one’s massage contemplating a half-digested shower, so I tried to push the thought from my mind and relax. But then another – equally horrifying – thought occurred to me. What if it wasn’t her pregnancy that made her gag? What if it was ME?

I started a paranoid accounting of myself. Toe nails… trimmed and painted… No flabbier than the average client. No warts on my feet… Legs shaved… I’d showered right before my massage so no chance of my feet smelling funky.

And then it occurred to me: SPIDER BITES.

I’d woken up the night before with itchy legs and found two huge welts (dare I say HIVES) on my leg, each with a perfect dot in the center. They were bigger than mosquito bites, so – even though it was 3 am – I woke Alan up, turned on the light, and tossed the bed looking for whatever bit me.

I didn’t find it, but I figured I’d probably either killed or displaced it with my flurry of activity, so I was able to go back to sleep.

But lying on the massage table with two huge welts on my legs that looked like botfly larvae might burst forth at any moment? A person wouldn’t need to be pregnant to want to puke.

Speaking of – I actually don’t think I can finish this post. I just bounced over to Google images to see if I could find a “funny botfly larvae” photo to illustrate this story. That was a HORRIBLE idea. Those words should never be in the same search string. Take my word for this.

And so it is… only in my world can a massage lead to a fantasy that ultimately tracks to parasitic worms. No wonder I never seem relaxed.

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The Way My Brain Works

21 May

Alan says I’m a pessimist. I’d like to believe I’m just well prepared. On the whole I believe things will turn out just right – I just find it comforting to have Plan B in my back pocket. Even when there’s almost no chance it will be needed.

I chalk it up to having a fantastic imagination.

Take today. Walking home from work this afternoon, I saw a folded dollar bill on the sidewalk. Of course I bent to grab it. Only, once I was holding it, I saw that it was only part of a dollar. It represented maybe 20% of a full bill, but had been folded in a way that it looked like more.

Since it was useless, I pitched it in the next trashcan I saw.

And then… five steps later… the gears in my brain started to spin.

It was like someone had folded the dollar to trick people into believing it was whole. 

What if that had been a trap? 

I mean, if I were a terrorist, trying to randomly start an untraceable plague, that would be a great first step…

Step 1: Taint money with incurable virus.

Step 2: Cut money into bits and fold using clever origami technique to make each bit look whole.

Step 3: Scatter on well-traveled sidewalks, right before rush hour, near trash cans. 

Pretty clever, you must admit. While some people may walk past a coin, who isn’t going to stop to pick up a dollar? And by only placing *partial* bits, you ensure people won’t want to keep them after they examine them. And by scattering them near trashcans on busy streets, you’ve ensured the evidence will get incinerated relatively quickly.

Brilliant, no?

In fact, it was so brilliant that my first thought was: I need to write this down when I get home. If I ever write an espionage thriller, I’m totally going to use this technique.

And then my second thought was: Must. Wash. Hands. Immediately.

And my third thought was: Don’t. Touch. Face.

And my fourth thought was: Alan might have a point.

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