More Friday Soapbox

April 3, 2009 at 6:58 pm (Friday Soap Box) (, , , , , )

Mr. Wonderful and I had to run an errand to pick up some essentials. We headed for the dreaded Walmartssssss, God I hate that store but you know, it’s in the hood. And while I’m on the subject… why do the elderlysss always call it Walmartssss? My mother does this and it drives me crazy, that and she calls herextra-strength” pills “Vicodent.”  MOM, for the love of pharmacist, KNOW YOUR DOSES… KNOW YOUR DOPE!

So we’re getting the essentials, Easter candy, furnace filters, shoe polish, you know the usuals and I head over to the area by checkout to pick up some bags of salt for the water softener. There’s this 30 something man standing/leaning on the salt bags and he’s texting or some shit.  I walk up and then start trying to heave these 40 pound bags of salt into my cart (Mr. Wonderful isn’t strong enough to handle the job yet). Man Ass didn’t even look up. Of course if he had then I guess that would have been an acknowledgment that my delicate little ass is struggling and maybe he should show some chivalry and help me out but no, he continued to play with his phone. If I was in his position I would have insisted on helping. I should have let one of the bags fall on his foot. Bastard. What is wrong with people?

Yeah, I got the bags in the cart with no problem really… I am woman hear me roar… whatever. I’m getting very use to having to lift and fix things that typically would be “mens’ work” but it would be nice, once in a while, if I just didn’t have to.

*****

Now to report on something good, I thought I would share an experience I had at pharmacy one day. I was standing in line to check out my 2 for 1 mineral powder deal, woot!, and there was this very clean cut, high school age, brother and sister trying to check out. Their purchase was 19 and some change but their debit card wasn’t going through. The brother says to the sister, “mom said she put money in the account yesterday.” He then tells the clerk sorry but they will have to come back. The next man in line said, “don’t worry about it kids, I got this.” They thanked him but said no they couldn’t accept his generosity. He insisted saying that he had plenty of money and he would really like to help them out and with that he handed the clerk a 20 dollar bill.

Now that was cool to witness.

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Friday Edition

April 3, 2009 at 2:59 pm (Friday Soap Box) (, , , , , )

So last night I decided to introduce Mr. Wonderful to the delights of Wendy’s. As with most kids, Mr. Wonderful been pretty well stuck on those damn Happy Meals and just recently decided to be a little adventurous and try Subway, to which he discovered suited his palette well. So last night I thought I would introduce him to the delights of Wendy’s. I hadn’t been there for a long time and was surprised to find that it was an additional $.40 for the damn cheese.  I suppose since it’s called a Single and not Cheeseburger I should have had a clue but I didn’t so ok, I dealt.

Where I live has three cities that are connected and I live in one of the burbs which is right on the edge of the main city. Usually I stay on my side of town which translates into not crossing the intersection into “the city.” Anyway, last night I decided that I would take us on a whirlwind adventure and cross that intersection so we could go to Wendy’s (there is a point here… I’m getting to it, honestly.) So I get the food, travel back to the burbs and come home to eat. As I’m sitting here eating I’m looking at the receipt because there was an issue with the frosties. I glance down and notice the tax is $.93 and I think, WTF, that seems high. Since I’m already pissed about the cheese and the frosty I get my calculator out and calculate what the tax rate is. Turns out the tax rate in the city is 9.25%. I happen to have a receipt in my car from KFC which is across the street, and in the burbs, so I calculate their tax and it is 7.25%.  Sure it’s only 2% but it’s the principal and I am so sick of getting taxed to death on everything. If I wasn’t so lazy I would calculate how much of our dollar we actually get to keep these days… I’m certain it’s maybe $.25… on a good day.

So that’s my rant for the day, I feel better now.

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Here’s my counteroffer to your counteroffer — go fuck yourself

January 30, 2009 at 9:08 pm (Exorcising Demons, The Monkeys in My Head) (, , , , , , )

The monkeys are at it again. I’m having a very difficult time letting go of something that doesn’t even exist. Intellectually, I know what is in my best interests so this shouldn’t even be a consideration but I can’t help hard-racking this to death. And because I’m giving it so much consideration and really want to forget about it for at least seven or 45 minutes, I’m feeling a bit Butchie Yost and thinking, “I’m going to get high, I’m going to get fucking high.” But like Butchie, can’t seem to get the deed done as I fear hangovers in the worse possible way.

Why do we do this to ourselves? It isn’t even worth the time and energy I’ve spent on it.  I know what it is, it’s the shiny and sparkly that I’m missing and oh dear Lord little baby Jesus how will I cope? My mother, who can be pretty damn funny, told me I should just forget about dating and go to the adult store and stock up on supplies. Wiser words have never been spoken.

The other thing I can’t get past is I keep feeling like I must have done something wrong. It was my decision in the end, the only rational one to be made, but I still can’t help thinking that if I had done something differently there wouldn’t have been such a turn of events. That is just stupid, I never do anything wrong, I am a Goddess and I must always remember this.

While deep in the throws of composition I took time out to do some reading and here is a snippet of something I found interesting:

Compatibility is rarely a factor in attraction, because it doesn’t create that attractive spark. We are more likely to be attracted to mates who stimulate us because they are different, who open doorways into worlds that are new to us. Perfect compatibility is boring – it’s sitting on the sofa watching tv for the rest of our lives. Few of us are really looking for this kind of relationship.

The arena(s) in which we will do most of our soul growth is/are indicated in the natal astrological chart. A soulmate relationship generally begins with a feeling of fatednessand kinship, which signifies that there will be contact on a soul level. This does not necessarily mean that marriage and a lifetime of perfect harmony will follow, but rather than this relationship will provide lessons and growth experiences for you. It is not unusual for this kind of relationship to fall away once the lessons have been learned so that the individual can move on to the next level.

That all sounds good but what are the lessons here?

  1. Don’t be such a dumbass
  2. Take a vow of chastity and blog more as a distraction
  3. Find someone boring and be happy with them
  4. Paint your nails and call it a day
  5. I still have much more suffering to do

The suffering comes from something J. Drill once said back in 2003 when we were flying off on a whirl-wind adventure. Still worried about terrorists and flying in general, I said something about the plane going down and J. Drill said to me, “Won’t happen, you haven’t suffered enough yet.” Damn that woman and her psychic abilities!

So one beautiful fall morning I happened to spy, with my little eyes, what would become my PTSD for some time to come when I witnessed what the full range of plethora looks like close up. At this point, J. Drill said I had perhaps suffered enough and shouldn’t fly anytime soon (see, I’m not the only one who has to laugh in the face of tragedy!). I truly felt that this was the coup de grâce and things could only get better but no, hell no. Fate or whatever laughed at me and it roared its ugly head once again just a week later. Anyway, my point is, it’s not over till its over and until then we just have to stand it like a man and give some back.  And I propose that it might just be a splendid idea to stand it like a man and hit the range; give some back with some names on the targets.

On an up note, I got my hair done today and I must say it looks mighty fine and sassy. And I’m pretty sure it makes me look at least 2-3 months younger!

And the title, well that’s just in case I should get a call at some point seeking a counteroffer.

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