Several weeks back, I wrote a post about how I'm always the bad guy. I feel I'm acting in a perfectly reasonable manner and, somehow, the person who's minding my business gets all offended when I fail to react the way they want me to react. The specific incident that inspired that post was a woman with a four-year-old who was offended because I failed to recognize how "special" her son was after he grabbed my hand in a Chicken Out. My friend, CV, was with me on that occasion and was gobsmacked that the mother had attacked me instead of apologizing.
Well, I have been vindicated! Not only did the unknown woman who observed the incident come down on my side, but, apparently, so did one of the mother's friends. CV has a cousin who's a child expert and saw my response to CV's post on facebook and figured out from the small amount I said that I was the "bad guy." It turns out that a friend of the cousin's went to dinner with Mommy Dearest (MD) that night and MD was all up in how horrible I was to poor little Future Axe Murderer. I was informed yesterday that the cousin's friend had told MD that she was wrong and I was right and came home and unfriended MD on facebook because MD was all offended when she should have been apologizing.
Besides, MD should be happy I said "excuse me!" instead of "WTF."
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
My ex-wife
Well, really, my late husband's ex-wife, but, hey, I still claim her!
I drove down to her house this past weekend to drop off a wine rack that was gathering dust and taking up space that I needed to Bill's crate. I loved her attitude, which was if I'm home, I'm home, if not, leave it on the porch. The perfect recipient of something free.
She lives in a subdivision of cookie-cutter houses. Well, not entirely cookie cutter, but they really do look an awful lot alike. They tend to have apartment size decks (despite being distinctly house-sized houses) and very little personality in the way of decorations or what not.
Not her. Her house has personality and if you pulled into her court and all you knew was that her house had personality, you'd be able to find it in a heartbeat. Plus her house-sized house actually has a house-sized deck, which I think is absolutely wonderful.
So here's to the woman who's a chocolate-covered strawberry in the midst of a bunch of sugar cookies.
Way to go, KT!
I drove down to her house this past weekend to drop off a wine rack that was gathering dust and taking up space that I needed to Bill's crate. I loved her attitude, which was if I'm home, I'm home, if not, leave it on the porch. The perfect recipient of something free.
She lives in a subdivision of cookie-cutter houses. Well, not entirely cookie cutter, but they really do look an awful lot alike. They tend to have apartment size decks (despite being distinctly house-sized houses) and very little personality in the way of decorations or what not.
Not her. Her house has personality and if you pulled into her court and all you knew was that her house had personality, you'd be able to find it in a heartbeat. Plus her house-sized house actually has a house-sized deck, which I think is absolutely wonderful.
So here's to the woman who's a chocolate-covered strawberry in the midst of a bunch of sugar cookies.
Way to go, KT!
Friday, August 19, 2011
Blog fodder
This post has been brought to you by <blank> <blank> Washington National Airport where I picked up a rental car yesterday. I'm spending $29/day for a... Crown Vic. I had reserved a compact car and was expecting a Hyundai Elantra and I, obviously, got an upgrade that I darned near tried to give back because it's a boat.
The <blank> <blank> is because I will not mention that name foisted on us by Bob Barr of Georgia, which is completely contrary to the wishes of the man to whom it belonged. Besides which, it strikes me as a tad insensitive to name an airport after the man who broke the air traffic controllers union. Then again, Bob Barr. Need I say more?
So I'm walking over to counters where the rental cars are and I'm on the outside part, which is covered by an awning, for lack of a better word. It isn't as fluid as a sidewalk is, because there are walls on either side and there's only so far you can move out of someone's way. And, yes, you know what happened.
I was on the righthand side, walking along, and here comes a man with his suitcase, barrelling down the walkway on the lefthand side (that would be his lefthand side). He's very busy watching the sidewalk, looking up now and then. Fortunately for him, he looked up at the right time to avoid hitting me when I stopped walking and said, "You know, I'm allowed to use the sidewalk too." He just swerved around me and then right back to barrelling. Yeesh.
Then the rental car company had three people who were high maintenance, which left one person for the rest of us (I was 6th in line and it expanded behind me) and slow computers. Fortunately, they called a couple of people down to help and once they got rid of one high maintenance person, they started plowing through the rest of us. But fun things can happen when you're in line.
Like the man in front of me, with a groupon, who wanted to know if he really had to stand in line and was told that, yes, he really did. He was also wearing a PBR hat and he was from Texas. Once I got my car, it turned out he was in the car right in front of me in the garage and he had to turn on his bright lights despite the car not moving. Tons of fun. Plus he and the woman ahead of him had to fawn all over the good-looking guy in front of them. Now, when I say good-looking, I mean absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Most definitely drool-worthy. As long as you didn't look at his clothes.
Picture this: gorgeous, hot, lovely man wearing a light blue button-down shirt (losing points for the shades tucked down the front of it), navy blazer and khakis. Then I looked down. Yeah, khakis. Khaki shorts, no socks, and topsiders.
So the two people ahead of me are trying to figure out who this man is. PBR asks if he's a television anchor on that show and the jerk says, "What show?" PBR says that he's seen the guy before and they talk about where PBR from (how I found out he's from Texas) and the guy says he's been in Dallas/Fort Worth a couple times and maybe that's when PBR saw him. At that point, I'm rolling my eyes and I really want to tell them that if he was really "someone," he wouldn't be in the line with the rest of us. But Mr. Khaki Shorts is really enjoying getting one over on these two and all I wanted to do was smack him and telling to stop playing with the stupid people.
Hmmm... that makes me nearly as bad as he was.
The <blank> <blank> is because I will not mention that name foisted on us by Bob Barr of Georgia, which is completely contrary to the wishes of the man to whom it belonged. Besides which, it strikes me as a tad insensitive to name an airport after the man who broke the air traffic controllers union. Then again, Bob Barr. Need I say more?
So I'm walking over to counters where the rental cars are and I'm on the outside part, which is covered by an awning, for lack of a better word. It isn't as fluid as a sidewalk is, because there are walls on either side and there's only so far you can move out of someone's way. And, yes, you know what happened.
I was on the righthand side, walking along, and here comes a man with his suitcase, barrelling down the walkway on the lefthand side (that would be his lefthand side). He's very busy watching the sidewalk, looking up now and then. Fortunately for him, he looked up at the right time to avoid hitting me when I stopped walking and said, "You know, I'm allowed to use the sidewalk too." He just swerved around me and then right back to barrelling. Yeesh.
Then the rental car company had three people who were high maintenance, which left one person for the rest of us (I was 6th in line and it expanded behind me) and slow computers. Fortunately, they called a couple of people down to help and once they got rid of one high maintenance person, they started plowing through the rest of us. But fun things can happen when you're in line.
Like the man in front of me, with a groupon, who wanted to know if he really had to stand in line and was told that, yes, he really did. He was also wearing a PBR hat and he was from Texas. Once I got my car, it turned out he was in the car right in front of me in the garage and he had to turn on his bright lights despite the car not moving. Tons of fun. Plus he and the woman ahead of him had to fawn all over the good-looking guy in front of them. Now, when I say good-looking, I mean absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Most definitely drool-worthy. As long as you didn't look at his clothes.
Picture this: gorgeous, hot, lovely man wearing a light blue button-down shirt (losing points for the shades tucked down the front of it), navy blazer and khakis. Then I looked down. Yeah, khakis. Khaki shorts, no socks, and topsiders.
So the two people ahead of me are trying to figure out who this man is. PBR asks if he's a television anchor on that show and the jerk says, "What show?" PBR says that he's seen the guy before and they talk about where PBR from (how I found out he's from Texas) and the guy says he's been in Dallas/Fort Worth a couple times and maybe that's when PBR saw him. At that point, I'm rolling my eyes and I really want to tell them that if he was really "someone," he wouldn't be in the line with the rest of us. But Mr. Khaki Shorts is really enjoying getting one over on these two and all I wanted to do was smack him and telling to stop playing with the stupid people.
Hmmm... that makes me nearly as bad as he was.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
I have two babies!!!!!
And without further ado, this is BL.
As you can see, he is black, brown, and a touch of white. He's probably about 13 months old and he no longer suffers from testosterone poisoning. Isn't he a beautiful boy?
Sasha's nose is a bit out of joint, but considering that she gets to do things that he doesn't, I don't have a problem with that. Besides, she's getting all kinds of mommy love.
And, because she's just so darned cute, here's my sweet girl.
Vintage Sasha.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
BL has come home!!!
Yes, it's a small pic and it isn't very good, but it's all I've got for now. BL is part Australian Cattle Dog and part Australian Shepherd and he is absolutely beautiful. He's also a project dog because he's very shy, very timid, and about afraid of his own shadow. But, somehow, he grabbed me and Sasha's being very possessive of me right now, clinging more than usual and really wanting lots of love (and she's getting it too!)
His name is BL, after Brooks Laich, who is my very favorite hockey player and I even threatened to become an Oilers fan if the Capitals let him go and Edmonton signed him.
So now I have two dogs with hockey names: Sasha after Sasha Semin and BL after Brooks Laich.
More pics as soon as I can coax him onto the balcony.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Adoption
Marlowe died four weeks ago tomorrow. Sasha misses him and I miss him, but we decided it was time for a new one.
And we found one. He's afraid of his own shadow and he likes Sasha because I introduced them today. She stood there like the trooper she is and let him smell all over her, then he ran off like a crazy dog, only to come back and sniff her again, which she tolerated again.
By this time tomorrow, I may be the mommy to two shy, timid dogs. Who'd have ever thought that?
And we found one. He's afraid of his own shadow and he likes Sasha because I introduced them today. She stood there like the trooper she is and let him smell all over her, then he ran off like a crazy dog, only to come back and sniff her again, which she tolerated again.
By this time tomorrow, I may be the mommy to two shy, timid dogs. Who'd have ever thought that?
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Signature Needles
I know that some people just fall all over themselves talking about how wonderful and fantastic Signature Needles are.
Not me. Especially not after Monday.
In my time, I have purchased eight pairs of Signatures. I have five left. Yes, because three of those eight had the cord snap. Now, granted the company will replace them, but when almost half of your total have the cord snap, why would I want to?
I have never had a cord snap on a pair of Addis, or on a pair of HiyaHiyas, or a pair of Clovers, or... well... you get the picture. So while I would say it's me, I think I'd have problems with other brands too, and I don't.
Why is it the most expensive of the needles that gives me the most agita?
Not me. Especially not after Monday.
In my time, I have purchased eight pairs of Signatures. I have five left. Yes, because three of those eight had the cord snap. Now, granted the company will replace them, but when almost half of your total have the cord snap, why would I want to?
I have never had a cord snap on a pair of Addis, or on a pair of HiyaHiyas, or a pair of Clovers, or... well... you get the picture. So while I would say it's me, I think I'd have problems with other brands too, and I don't.
Why is it the most expensive of the needles that gives me the most agita?
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Orphans
Mark always had a line he used when talking about children who didn't behave in public. He called them orphans, because children with parents didn't act like that.
Well, I met a couple of orphans last night and I believe I convinced Ms. B that there really is such a thing. Apparently, the so-called mothers, were sitting chit-chatting, not that there's anything wrong with that because I do it well myself sometimes. However, they let their two daughters run wild through the restaurant while they did. Running wild meant chasing each other around the furniture by the fireplace (and someone pulled a Carol on them by sitting in one of the armchairs, thus foiling their plans to chase each other around the fireplace and climb all over the chairs). It also meant getting one of the nice people who work there in a bit of trouble because they decided to make lemonade. They had their little water glasses and they got lemons and sugar from the soft drink area and proceeded to make a mess all over one of the tables, which someone else, of course, had to clean up (the nice lady who was told that she had to make sure the tables were clean). And, naturally, when the girls saw the adults gathered around their mess, they stopped and avoided it.
I kept waiting for one of them to run into B and then I was going to cut loose. As it was, I was ready to go to the manager about the little brats, but he'd already curtailed some of their activities.
Orphans, I swear. Because children with parents don't act like that.
On an unrelated note, it's amazing what a change in management makes. I tried to get a railing for Mark on the bottom steps to our condo and was told no. I told them that I had issues on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays because Fastran picked him up for dialysis and was told too bad, so sad, they were going to do what they had to do and they couldn't (wouldn't) cater to anyone who was handicapped. So now a downstairs neighbor asked for a railing and guess what was installed this morning. I don't begrudge him the railing for a minute because he really needs it. However, it does anger me that his request was considered while mine was shut down before it even got moving. Of course, we also have a different property manager now and that could most definitely be it. (And I'll admit to using the rail this morning too!)
Well, I met a couple of orphans last night and I believe I convinced Ms. B that there really is such a thing. Apparently, the so-called mothers, were sitting chit-chatting, not that there's anything wrong with that because I do it well myself sometimes. However, they let their two daughters run wild through the restaurant while they did. Running wild meant chasing each other around the furniture by the fireplace (and someone pulled a Carol on them by sitting in one of the armchairs, thus foiling their plans to chase each other around the fireplace and climb all over the chairs). It also meant getting one of the nice people who work there in a bit of trouble because they decided to make lemonade. They had their little water glasses and they got lemons and sugar from the soft drink area and proceeded to make a mess all over one of the tables, which someone else, of course, had to clean up (the nice lady who was told that she had to make sure the tables were clean). And, naturally, when the girls saw the adults gathered around their mess, they stopped and avoided it.
I kept waiting for one of them to run into B and then I was going to cut loose. As it was, I was ready to go to the manager about the little brats, but he'd already curtailed some of their activities.
Orphans, I swear. Because children with parents don't act like that.
On an unrelated note, it's amazing what a change in management makes. I tried to get a railing for Mark on the bottom steps to our condo and was told no. I told them that I had issues on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays because Fastran picked him up for dialysis and was told too bad, so sad, they were going to do what they had to do and they couldn't (wouldn't) cater to anyone who was handicapped. So now a downstairs neighbor asked for a railing and guess what was installed this morning. I don't begrudge him the railing for a minute because he really needs it. However, it does anger me that his request was considered while mine was shut down before it even got moving. Of course, we also have a different property manager now and that could most definitely be it. (And I'll admit to using the rail this morning too!)
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