Random Thoughts on a Random Day

I love Alfred Hitchcock. His sense of humor is timeless & priceless.

I wish I wanted to call my mom. But, I don’t.

I had my first gardenia bloom yesterday. Gardenias are my favorite.

I have 4 cats. That makes me half way to ‘crazy cat lady’ status.

I don’t understand why people make mountains out of molehills. My answer to that is to not answer their emails.

Silence is the best response to a fool.

If I were a super hero I would want to be Ironman. Tony Stark is rich.

If I were an animal, I of course would be a cat. Sleep, eat, purr, eat, sleep.

I would love to have a pet dragon. I wish they were real.

I have a taxidermy weasel in my office. His name is Dave.

I also have an Enterprise replica with a bobble head Spock on my desk.

I also have a coffee mug on my desk that says “Save Oxygen. Shut up.” I wish more people would pay attention to that mug some days!

I have been told that I am one lab accident away from a super villain. I hope there is a lab close by.

I like my coffee black. 

What does all this have in common? Absolutely nothing. I have not a single ounce of brain power lately and I have wanted to post something, but can’t come up with anything. I am not sure this is worth the read, but here it is…reading it is your choice…or not…

You Never Know

You never know.

Some people never come to the realization that you never know. I know I have never known for several decades. It is a comfort, but it is a devil as well. Playing with your mind. Almost making you believe sometimes that because you don't know, this may be the last second you even can think about the fact that you don't know. And so it goes.  

What am I talking about? Death of course. We live every day never really knowing if we will make it to work or not - or - make it home again.  Never having a warning that it might be your last seconds on Earth.

I just found out a person I have known for at over10 years did NOT make it home Sunday. She was 24. She was sweet and kind and always had a smile. I never once heard her complain about anything.  

I didn't really know her as you may imagine though because the only time I saw her was when I ordered food at a local restaurant. We were such frequent visitors that she knew our order before we said anything. That was it. We never went anywhere together, we never hung out, I doubt she even knew my name, but somehow we had a connection. We were friends in a way that most people do not see. Most people do not take notice of the person that takes their order or brings them their food. We did. 

We knew her name, we asked about her family and when she was pregnant we gave her a baby gift. 

That was all the relationship entailed. But I LOVED this girl - like she was my daughter. 

We went to the restaurant today. There was a computer generated sign with her picture asking for money to help her 2 young daughters. She had been killed in an auto accident Sunday. She was 24. She was too young to die. She was too sweet to die. She had too many reasons to live. 

It is odd, but normal, that when you see someone, it may never cross your mind that you will never see them again. It certainly didn't cross my mind last week when I saw her. 

It hurts me to the core that evil, malicious, and downright mean people can live to torment others for what seems to be an eternity. But good people like Brittany only last 24 short years. 

I will miss seeing her - and be reminded in a stronger way - that you never know. 

I love you all...

 

Hello? Is Anyone In there???

My husband and I haunt Goodwill. We find lots of great stuff that is ‘used’ but then becomes ‘new’ to us. Why on Sunday I found a Vera Wang purse for $15. What woman would not want a Vera Wang purse for $15??!! Sold!

Today we found a mower. I love to mow – it is my valium.

I have recently been looking at mowers. I don’t need a mower, I have one, but I want a better one. One that is self-propelled.  I am old; I need an easy push, not a push until I pass out because my mower is as old as my children mower. It practically wears me out just pulling the cord to get it started! I basically have to take a nap right after I get it started. I only mow now if my husband is around to start it.

But you don’t care about all that.

This mower looked fairly clean and little used. Another bonus. It had the famous “TESTED” sticker on it, which is supposed to mean that the staff at Goodwill has tested the product and they say it works. They loosely judge the idea of works.

I have purchased items that said “TESTED” and once I got them home found that they do not in fact work. So I am skeptical of the “TESTED” sticker.

We wanted to "TESTED" this mower ourselves. So we asked if we could. The employee we talked to initially looked at us like we had 2 heads and were spitting fire at the random furniture sitting around. He could already see the headline: “Local Goodwill Goes Up in Flames!” So, he just turned and walked away - no comment - no answer - just walked away like we hadn't even spoken to him.

So, since our interaction with him was completely useless, we searched for the manager. We found her and she was a rather talkative, but not a listening, type of woman. Here is the exchange (which is the reason for this post):

Us: We are interested in this mower. May we take it outside to make sure it works?

Manager: It just came in from another store this morning.

Us: Um yes, we are interested in this mower. May we take it outside to make sure it works?

Manager: It looks like it is a very good mower.

Us: Um yes, and we are interested in this mower. But may we take it outside to make sure it works?

Manager: I don’t know why we got it from the other store...

Us: Great, but we would like to take it outside and test it.

Manager: We don’t usually allow items that use gasoline in this store.

Us: Great, but may we TAKE IT OUTSIDE AND TEST IT?

Manager: You know, it just came from another store and we just put it out on the floor about an hour ago!

Us: Wonderful. May.We.Test.It? The door to the outside is right there (we were pointing)!

Manager: Oh, you want to test it? It has a “TESTED” sticker on it, two in fact so it must be fine.

Us: Yes, but we have purchased items before that had that sticker on it and then got the item home only to find that it actually didn’t work. Soooo, may we take the mower outside and just see for ourselves that it really works.

Manager:  I wonder why we got it from the other store. We have only had it a couple of hours.

Obviously we were not getting through to her (or she was just ignoring our request) and I was rapidly losing what little bit of self-control I possess, so I grabbed her by the shoulders, looked her square in the eye and said:

“Look, I don’t trust your “TESTED” sticker, I don’t care where it came from, how long you have had it, or whether your store allows a gas powered anything in it. I NEED to take this mower outside that door – right there – and start it myself and push it around to make sure it works. Any questions?”

She calmly answered, “Why no, go ahead.”

I think my husband and I are magnets for those who are inept or stupid. I really do.

 

 

 

P.S. No word on the buffalo yet...I will keep you posted though!

 

When Dealing WIth Buffalos - Read The Fine Print

Sometimes, just when you think all is lost in the world, to your surprise the planets align, the stars shine their brightest, God winks in your direction and you get your very own buffalo head.

Now, that kind of providence doesn’t just happen every day! I mean you have to be pretty special to get a buffalo head. Something that remarkable does not happen to just the run of mill, muddling through life, pedestrian humans. There are many individuals out there that do not appreciate the magnificence of the grand animal – which is shocking! They don’t want the planets to align, or the stars to shine, or God to even look in their direction in regard to taxidermy – and they don’t understand MY obsession. But I can’t concern myself with those kinds of trifling people. Those that know me understand.

Such a glorious day as was described above happened to me yesterday. I was beside myself with joy. I was engulfed in a world of pure taxidermy elation because I had won a taxidermy buffalo head of my dreams in an auction on eBay. There is no greater high.

But everyone is aware that with great pleasure – comes great pain. My pain came in the form of the ‘fine print’ I had not noticed in the Second Chance Offer sent to me. I hadn’t noticed the message the seller had included in that offer which said he had several ‘other’ heads and I could have one if I accepted his offer. I thought I was getting the buffalo pictured in the auction.

I was not.

Because my excitement did not let me read fine print!

I was getting a buffalo I had never met! Never even viewed! There are NO blind dates in the world of taxidermy! It just isn’t done!

When questioned, the seller offered up pictures of ‘my’ buffalo. This poor creature was a cross between Eeyore (you know – ‘thanks for noticing me’), a drunk that had been punched in the nose, and Don King.

My mind reeled, my hands shook, my heart raced. How could something so right, go so wrong? No, my mind screamed – not to me…don’t do this to ME…

I can’t take it, I am not strong enough. I begged God to take away this pain – and – that awful replica of my dream head. (Get your mind out the gutter – or is that just me?)

We have emailed back and forth and I have been offered the possibility of multiple other heads (again – mind – gutter – or only me) and the pictures of them should be sent to me in the next day or two. I hope one screams, “Pick ME, Pick ME!” But I don’t know, I am pretty taxidermy picky.

So the ecstasy and the agony continue. My fireplace waits to hang my prize in all its glory – if indeed I get a prize. I may just get my money back.

Oh, mercy me, the horror of it all. The lost innocence.

I will let you my dear readers, know of the final outcome, be it good or be it bad; be it happy or be it sad. I am strong. You be strong from me too…

 

 

Family Vacation & Texting

Daughter: How about going to Charleston?

Me: I think it is too far to drive.

Daughter: I thought so too. (yet she suggested it - what?)

Son: We could fly!

Daughter: I hate flying.

Son: First Class. Foot massages. Movies. Solid gold cups that are never empty. My kind of plane!

Me: First Class is the best!

Son: Alcohol for days! (Why a 19 year old suggests that is kind of baffling – or telling…)

Daughter: I hate people touching my feet.

Me: We know!!!

Son: UGH! Fine! Live a life of massage less squalor!

Daughter: I ENJOY MY SQUALOR THANK YOU VERY MUCH

Me: Wow, this is getting too hostile for me…

Son: IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE HEAT THEN GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN.

Son-In-Law (who had been silent up until now): Can we not

Me: Don’t you mean get out of the airplane??

Son: HA!

Daughter: Airplanes have kitchens.

Me: Do they have foot kitchens?

Daughter: Why would you want to cook a foot?

Son: You don’t know my preferences.

Son-In-law (apparently at work and getting aggravated by all the texts): I will destroy you all!

Daughter: I think we are driving my husband crazy.

Son: Maybe a little.

Daughter: And I do know your preferences. I’VE KNOWN YOU YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!

Son: I’M MYSTERIOUS AND UNPREDICTABLE!

Me: It is a mystery to me why EVERYONE KEEPS USING CAPITAL LETTERS!

Son: If I need to shout – I NEED TO SHOUT!

Daughter: ME TOO!!!

Son: DON’T STIFLE MY FIRST AMENDMENT RIGHTS!

Me: I about to exercise my 2^nd amendment right if you guys don’t stop yelling at me!!!

Daughter: So, really, are we doing a family vacation?

 

I love my kids and maybe I think this is funnier than it really is, but hey, I just took up 2 minutes of your day when you obviously had nothing to do or you wouldn't be trolling the blog posts!! GET BACK TO WORK!

Go Away "MayMay" (plus a Stay Reboot!)

I posted last night about my awe inspiring “Easterween” decoration. At work it is hailed as brilliance incarnate and beloved by all. Well, most of them ‘like’ it.

This morning, my sister sent me a text that stated that she had noticed that I made a grammatical faux pas on the aforementioned post, so I went to my blog to fix it. It was then that I noticed there was an obvious increase in ‘comments’ on past blogs so I eagerly clicked in to check them out.

I was stunned. Some humanoid with the screen name ‘maymay’ had commented on nearly all my posts. The problem? NONE of her comments were even remotely related TO my posts! I knew the web had a seedy social media side that I try to stay away from (Facebook for example), but this person had crashed into my blog, assaulted my space, posted GARBAGE – verbally looooong GARBAGE – and walked away without a scratch. I was incensed!

Things like this are why I hate people and definitely should NOT be or work in public; and yet I do. How dare this human piggyback their mindless prattle upon the back of my hard thought out thoughts! Consider them all deleted.

While deleting the unwanted rubbish comments, I came across my post about mom and the perfume I had given to her called Stay. I reread the post since I had just visited my sister (and received the awesome Easterween gift) that included a visit our mother (a kind of 2 for 1 special). Mom had come out one morning dressed and ready to go bathed in the smell of that clean smelling Stay – and I do mean bathed in the smell.

I mentioned that she smelled good and it went – like instant delayed replay about Stay – like this…

Me: You smell good!

My sister: Yes, you do.

Mom: It is the perfume you gave me. It smells so fresh and clean. I love it!

Me: Nice.

Mom: What was the name?

Me: Stay.

Mom: Noooo, wasn’t it Gap or something?

Me: No, it came from The Gap. It is called Stay. (as if the name isn’t the bottle she uses every day!)

Mom: The Gap. That makes no sense.

My sister: It makes perfect sense if that is what they wanted to name the store.

Mom: I still don’t understand why they call it ‘Stay.’

My sister: Because the fragrance ‘stays’ with you all day! (she clearly was grasping for straws here – anything to stop this conversation)

Mom: Well it certainly does "Stay" with me because I spray it all over myself.

Me: How many ‘sprays?’

Mom; Oh, I don’t know, 5 or 6.

My sister: 5 or 6?! Isn’t that kind of excessive? I just do a couple of sprays here and here (pointing to the places on her body).

Me: Me too! Wow, 5 or 6 is a lot. You will run out of it so fast! I better send you another bottle.

Mom: Bottle of what?

Me: Stay.

Mom: Stay? I thought we were going out to lunch.

You just can’t make this stuff up people…

By the way, I switched my perfume from Stay to Sunshine, also from The Gap. I am not telling my mother.

Happy Easterween!

And we are back. Did you miss me?

I was sick, depressed, bored, and useless for the last couple of weeks. So I did not think I had anything worth saying. But I am better now. You might want to run…

It has come to my attention – that my attention – to decorating detail has shifted as I have gotten older. They say that the older you get the more your “bad” or “unlikable” tendencies rear their ugly head in direct correlation to the number of calendar days you have on your human frame. I think I am turning Goth as I breeze through my 50’s and I am not sure how I feel about that.

I do know how my mom feels about that. She is sure I am the backsliding on the road to Perdition. My sister I believe, does not care one way or the other – actually in a strange way she is encouraging this metamorphosis. My coworkers think either I am awesome cool or I have fallen off my traditional rocker. (Some of my coworkers actually rarely think at all – if you catch my drift) My husband – well – God love my husband, he tolerates just about anything I do. My kids have learned to go with the flow – no matter how crazy their mother gets.

Bones have become a fascination to me. Not in the forensic anthropological way, in the cool interior design way! Now I must clarify exactly which boney artifacts I prefer. Skulls – definitely out. To ‘gangy.’ Skeletons however have my full attention.

This penchant has been inside me a long time. I had bone earrings when I was in my teens. I loved those earrings. But when I was 17 I hiked 35 miles on the Appalachian Trail with a church group. I wore those earrings so that I would be a fashionista among the bears and snakes. However, the leader of my proverbial pack decided that I might catch them on a branch or a mountain lion claw and wanted me take them off. I protested, but I was taught strict rules of church hierarchy and so I complied. It has been a decision I have regretted for the rest of my life. Because although I placed them in what I thought was a secure pocket of my backpack; one was lost. I was inconsolable. I think I even requested that we backtrack the whole 35 miles to try to find them! But that earring was lost to the ages and those actions of that ‘leader’ have become the closest thing in my life to an unforgivable sin. I still curse him under when my breath when I think of that incident.

So, it started young and is only now coming out in ways I never thought possible. I go crazy at Halloween – because all things boney are acceptable fodder at that time. I did not do that in the past. My children wonder what happened to the mom that would only let them dress up in ‘happy’ costumes their whole childhood. They wonder why now I have turned into the Grim Reaper.

I don’t know what has happened either. But I kind of want to say I like it.

That leads me to why I wanted to talk about this. I saw my sister (the preacher’s wife who let her children dress up anyway they wanted when they were growing up – no matter how morbid – and my kids probably wished she had been their mother for the Halloween season) and she gave me a gift. An awesome, wonderful, amazing gift. A black cast iron skeleton for Halloween that is walking and carrying a stick across his/her shoulders that holds 2 glass pots that you can put candy, or dip, or chips, or tiger teeth, or witches brew in. I LOVE it. So much so, that I just could not relegate it to the attic for 7 more months waiting for the ‘proper season.’ So I eagerly stated to all in ear shot that I could take it to work and put Easter candy in the containers. At least I could then look upon the loveliness that was this Pottery Barn skeleton for a few extra days during the year. We then started talking about how one of my sister’s children decided we should dress up for Easter this year and celebrate “Easterween” instead of just Easter. GENUIS! Well, we had the “Ween” part of that holiday sitting on the table in front of us – all we had to do was add the “Easter” part!

So we did. The results are in the picture below. 

Office View

Home View

I am either the Queen of Easter or the Queen of Halloween - or - the Queen of EASTERWEEN!!! All hail the Queen of TWO (2) holidays! I feel like I am opening a new frontier to holiday enjoyment!

Come by my office and get some Easterween candy....you may or may not feel like this is the best double holiday in the history of the world.

You are welcome!