My Skirt Fell Off In Parking Garage

* 5 years ago … It happened again. Different skirt, different lot. Meh!

As I was walking from my office to my car, my skirt hit the concrete.  I remained upright, standing there in front of God and everybody, in my top and underwear. I do not have a tan – on purpose, but I sure could have used one at that moment.  My legs look like abnormally long pieces of packaged chicken. Read: white.  Did have on nice underwear, but it just doesn’t compensate for the lack of skin color – in daylight.  Couldn’t grab the demon garment  because I was holding boards.  The wooden kind. Ignored the horrified screaming and running of garage mates and finally managed to pull that sucker up under my arms.  And took my boards to the post office to mail them.

Who mails boards? As in not- too- long- but- sorta- heavy boards?  Interior designers, that’s who.  I’m not a designer, I am the office ODDJOB.  Without the razor-brimmed hat.  My areas of expertise are research (“Here’s a picture of a painting.  We need to know who the artist is.  There is no information, no caption, no nothing, don’t even know when or where the picture of painting came from. Go!” I found artist and a silkscreen of painting to purchase in 30 minutes), food choices (“Everyone is dieting but I still think we should get a cake, should we get a cake?” Get the cake. Am genius), and mailing boards.

Had to stick my stomach out to keep skirt on in post office.  Happy foreign man says, “You want to mail boards?”.  I said indeed I did and the cost must be under $100.  He started laughing and speaking to himself in his native tongue. Am thinking that means cost will be well over the budget. Skirting the details,I return to office with humble, sad face.  Walked into designers bull pen, looking for my boss to tell her about expense.  That damn skirt went south again. My colleagues, all women, were nonplussed; they are used to my wardrobe malfunctions.  Paper-clipped skirt top to underwear and called it a day.

Did I mention I live in the city located just on the outskirts of  Hell?  Where it is 81-degrees at 7 a.m.? This morsel of info is only necessary because sweats are not clothing here, sweats are a perpetual state of the body.  Every body.  So skirt slippage was heat-related. As evening approaches, it is a brisk 80-degrees inside my house; the a/c is working its ass(?) off, making the same sounds that pierce the air when empty cans are put in dryer and dryer is turned on high. War zone ambience. Trying to relax and cool down.

Turn on the computer and get some news.  Apparently bird doo facials are all the rage in NYC; you, too, can have one for $180. So “Emperor’s New Clothes”, I can’t even wrap this.  My mind is grinding, so I’ll throw out an offer for bird poop facial aficionados …. you are most welcome to sit on my patio – all day long – for $10; you will be delighted by all the bird bombs that cover your entire self.  There is only one catch … bring earplugs… the a/c sound might disturb your bliss.  Come early and stay late.

Don’t even think I”m complaining, I’m not.  Based on what I read, hear, and see, I am beyond lucky.  If anyone needs a skirt fail, a scary loud a/c, a poop facial provided by numerous regional birds, and/or  boards mailings, you know where to look.

*P.S.  Always wear nice underwear, even if you aren’t riding in the car … you never know ….. just saying.

Later.  If I don’t melt…

Herding Unicorns

IMG_0317

Methinks herding unicorns is about as easy as hunting for a job.  As I am currently involved in the latter, I know of what I speak.  My Dad, the man who paid for my college education, suggested I apply to be a greeter at Walmart. While I’m sure Walmart greeting is a lovely occupation, I don’t think the blue apron thing is bulletproof and am far too snarky to smile for eight hours.  Unless the salary is a $500/hour situation.

My French friend, AJ, wants me to teach conversational English.  Bless her heart, she doesn’t know I have been a very bad teacher.  I don’t believe instructing her to say “Hell, no!”, “Are you kidding me?”, “Get lost!” and other pleasantries will be of much help.  At least she will never be bullied.  Could totally teach conversational cursing but don’t think the position exists.  If you’d like to take this course, it’s $500/hour.

You may wonder what my skill set includes. This would be laughing, walking my dog, reading, and eating.  I know, amazing, right?  Seriously, I do have experience in many areas.  Just have to find that golden ticket.  And I will.  Maybe it’s canning cornichons, testing trampolines … the possibilities are endless.  My only prerequisite is a salary.

The very best outcome would be to do what I love while helping as many people as possible. Please do not suggest customer service.

Off to jump in my bed and pull covers over my head.  Because this is such a productive activity and representative of stong motivation and focus. Gah!

Later.

Friendship is a Sticky Wicket

Apparently it’s National Friendship Week.  Next week reserved for red noses. But I digress …

My Dad once said, “If you have a handful of true friends, you are lucky.”  At the time, I thought he was being negative and ridiculous.  Why, I had a million friends (I was young).  Turns out, he was right and I was wrong.  And, surprisingly, I love when I am proven wrong because I learn from it.  And it’s important to me to never stop learning.  I am lucky. I do have a handful of true friends, precious gifts I love and treasure.

Friendship is a sticky wicket. A delicate situation.  I love my friends.  I’m hard to love, so I’m lucky to have any.

imageAnd then there are the others … fabulous and not so much –

  • The Forever Friends – these are the wonderful people I may not see for 10 days, weeks, or years yet we pick up right where we left off  – ahh, beautiful!
  • I Wanna Talk About Me” Friends – we all have them; as long as they are the subject of all conversation, all is well.  Try to get a word in edgewise, like “Oops, I’m bleeding to death” – impossible.  Just gotta love them anyway.  From a distance.
  • Let’s Have Lunch Friends – never happening, don’t kid yourself.  They are really awesome people but chicken salad sandwiches and iced tea are not anywhere in your future.
  • Spill Your Guts/I Don’t Know You Friends – they appear at your door, spill their guts about a situation, situation gets fixed.  Next time they see you, they look right through you.  Pitiful.  Don’t answer door next time.
  • Deep As A Pie Pan Friends – can only talk about parties, travel, clothes, and light fabulousity; requires massive quantities of NoDoz and temporary loss of short-term memory.

So now I’m thinking I really am lucky to have my handful. As for the rest, move along. In the words of my new hero, Mark Manson, “I don’t give a f*&@!”.  (You are thinking this started out so nicely … SURPRISE!).

Off to work out snarkiness … maybe

Later

P.S. Many thanks to bestie Austin Ann for intro to writing of Mark Manson

Here Comes Bride, There Goes Kidney

Really and Not Really!

My youngest, McPaddie, is getting married! Her fiancé is an awesome man; we are all beyond excited. That means we are having a wedding! YIKES.

Fortunately, the big event is a year away. Haven’t broached subject of budget with her dad. While he is totally on board, he has no clue what weddings cost. I’m thinking he’s thinking $7. Am totally Scarlett O’Hara about having that conversation with him. Must contact EMS unit to have on hand when I grow a pair and spit it out. “Tomorrow is another day”.

Meanwhile, this mission requires MAJOR CREATIVITY. A few of the thoughts that have crossed my mind at 3:00 am every morning:

  • Sell a kidney (no, think that’s against the law)
  • Numerous bikini car washes (force future bridesmaids into slave labor)
  • Bake sales (one cookie = $1000)
  • Stand on busy street corner with sign (nope; too hot and I work every day)
  • Call BRAVO and ask Andy Cohen to make a reality series for us (so not happening)
  • Start a new trend: the drive-by wedding (just kidding)

Obviously, I need your help! If you have any ideas – puh-leeze throw them out here. Before throwing, please note: they won’t elope, we will do our best and honor what the bride wants on budget, we know it’s about the ceremony, not the flash.

*We are Southern. That means the weddings in these parts = church ceremony and reception. Reception includes buffet, mucho alcohol, and a great band so you dance your ass off. Just so you know. Oh, and photography. Just blew left side of brain.

You have your assignment. Am off to search for loose change.

Later.

You Might Be A Cockroach If ….

Good grief, I’ve been AWOL and I hate it! My tiny brain is exploding; working on a project that requires my absolute focus. Love the project but am in word bankruptcy as a result. Anywho, my two favorite quotes this week:

“If you step on people in this life, you’re going to come back as a cockroach.”

Willie Davis

“Why not upset the apple cart? If you don’t, the apples are going to rot anyway.”

Frank Clark

Hope all is peachy with you! Really!

Be happy. Your choice.

Later.

Under My Skin

I’m so peaced out, nothing gets under my skin. Except EVERYTHING. I’ll try to keep this brief.

  • Bad Press = More of the Same: In the olden days (last year), employees of GIANT DELIVERY SERVICES actually brought packages to your door. Numerous news clips over the past few months indicate some employees simply use your address as a target, the package as an arrow. We won’t even talk about the condition of the contents of said package/arrow. One would think GIANT DELIVERY SERVICES would have a chat with their staff, requesting true delivery of packages as opposed to Hail Mary target practice. Not so much. My recent experience:

Thanks, UPS

  • Car Dealership Service Departments: Maybe it’s just me, but I believe these should be renamed “Car Dealership So What Departments”. Living in a huge city, there are often numerous places to have your car “maintained”. Not mine. One dealership-from-hell. The service department is chock full of truly angry people with a collective offensive linebacker mentality when it comes to service. Slam that customer to the ground asap. Should your car need anything, it’s all your fault, not covered under warranty, and that will be 17 grillion dollars plus tax, tip, title, gratuity, and first dibs on future grandchildren to recover your vehicle. See ya never!

All I needed was an oil change 😦

  •  So Where Do I Get My Car Serviced?: Faced with this question yesterday, I went straight to the Wizard a.k.a. Google. Spent the better part of the day doing my research online. Selected the lucky service garage (keyword “loaner car”), rang them up, made my appointment for today. This morning, I packed some supplies (food, water, phone) and headed out to the garage. Which is in another town. I did have a map but am directionally dyslexic; maps serve me as well as Car Dealership So What Departments. One hour later – complete with 456 twists and turns – I’m there! Wherever that is. Everything is going along perfecto until we get to loaner car. Apparently there are just a few from which to choose. And here it comes …. “Can you drive a stick?”. Yes, of course I can drive a stick but haven’t since I was in my teens. “No”. A little bit of hemming and hawing and a big white thing appears in the driveway. I have no idea what it is but it goes forward and backward automatically. So I’m not really ranting about the new service provider, just the fact that I have to leave town to get my car taken care of. Wackadoodledo.
  • Car & Pet Wash: Swear on everything, I saw this place on my way back from wherever my car is. I am so taking photos tomorrow to prove it. In the meantime, I am quite confused how this situation works. Do you multitask by attaching dog to hood of car? That’s unacceptable. Does the cat drive the car, with perfume flowing through the air vents? Have you ever heard of this?

Is it too early to drink?

Later.

Use Your Words

That’s what I’m doing … using your words. Well, sharing your words. Loving:

“If life gives you lemons, keep them. Hey, free lemons!”

“I have a lot of growing up to do. I realized that the other day, in my fort.”

“Imperfection is beauty. Madness is genius. And it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.”

“Time is precious. Waste it wisely.”

“Welcome to today. Another day. Another chance. Feel free to change.”

“Some people just need a high-five. In the face. With a chair.”

“If you can’t convince them, confuse them.”

“Today I will be happier than a bird with a french fry.”

“Work like a captain. Play like a pirate.”

Yo Ho Ho … off to walk the plank!

Later.

Are You Kidding Me? Part 200

If I were an angry person, I would already be in prison. As it is, I’ve already pulled out all my hair because of these STUPID questions I can’t answer.

I just moved all my insurance. I just paid for all my insurance. Now, I get a million pages of questions about said insurance which must be answered a year ago:

  • Number of amps in electrical system – The only amps I’ve heard of are on an electric guitar. 
  • Fuses: Yes or No – Yes, I have a fuse and it is getting shorter by the second.
  • Knob & Tube or Aluminum Wiring – I am not wired to give out this information even if I knew what the hell you are talking about.
  • Plumbing system condition – The toilets flush.
  • Open or closed foundation – My home sits on something; have no idea about the emotional state of my foundation.
  • Copy of burglar alarm permit – This one is so easy; in my city, you have to apply, and then they DON’T send you a copy. So you go online and request a copy. Which is impossible to obtain unless you are an accomplished hacker.
  • Aircraft on premises? – Yes, I live in a townhouse and I have a DC-10 in my garage. Doesn’t everyone?

I immediately phoned and emailed my insurance agent for help. HELP! Was tickled pink to receive the following message:

“Hi! This is your insurance agent!

 I will be out of the office until the 12th of Never.

If you need to speak to someone, call your mother. Have a great day!”

Am sure there are many women who know all these answers. I’m not in your club.

Must make choice now: move insurance AGAIN or self-immolation. Leaning toward latter.

Later.

Maybe.

Bucket List Antithesis

There’s not a bucket big enough to hold all I want to do. But here are a few things I never want to do again:

  • Get stuck in small space with overserved man who has just inhaled a handful of chocolates: Don’t shake your head and wonder how this happened. It did. And the space was immediately filled with overwhelmingly heinous fumage. Would have fainted dead away, but space too small and I’m too polite (ha!). Had no choice but to stop, drop, and roll into a ditch. Still gagging.
  • Eat green peas and/or liver: More gagging. If I am on a desert island and all there is to eat are green peas and/or liver, I take this back. Note to self: no boat rides.
  • Register for “Do Not Call” lists: What a total waste of time. You crafty telemarketers and your “anonymous” and “private caller” handles! And for the managers of all “Do Not Call” lists, YOU’RE FIRED!
  • Reply to comment, “What country are you from because you don’t look like an American.”: Final answer: “I am a conehead. From France. Merde!
  • Work for people who are missing several teeth in the front of their mouths: If you have a “thriving” business, you can afford to go to the dentist and get some chompers. My experience with you tells me your business is anything but thriving because my paycheck bounced AND you don’t have a mirror. Basta!

Off to mind my own business.

What are your “never agains”?

Later.

Freaking Ridiculous

My brain blew into a million little pieces because:

  • Bill from idiotic doctor: Just got a bill from Doogie Howser; he charged me $28 to walk through his office to the lab. Which he doesn’t own. The independent lab bill has been paid. Have always “walked” free. Times may be tough, dude, but you aren’t getting a penny from me. <sticking tongue out at dumb doc>
  • Liar, liar, magazine on fire: Waiting for another appointment, I thumbed through a recent fashion magazine. One feature focused on how make up can make you look so rested. Then I saw the before/after of the woman in the photos. I knew her. She had everything from the shoulders up “redone” by a plastic surgeon before the photo shoot. Of course, the magazine failed to mention that , instead crediting her bright mug to new lipstick and blush. What a bunch of crapola! If you choose to believe it, the make up will cost you $30,000.
  • Running into old boyfriends: In the past few months, I’ve run into an unreasonable number of one of my friend’s old boyfriends. Better hers than mine, but this is getting ridiculous. Note to friend: run into your own old boyfriends. Thank you.
  • “So all you are going to do is work the rest of your life?” and “We are worried about you, financially”: Two comments, different friends. Note to friends: Here’s my bank account number; feel free to make large deposits frequently. Then I will be able to sashay about the planet and you won’t worry. Win-win.
  • Lose weight by watching tv:  If you want to lose your appetite, turn on Strange Addictions. I’m sorry these people do what they do. Even if you have a stomach of steel, five minutes into this show will, at the very least, produce some serious gagging and an aversion to snacking between meals. Wretched.
  • “Your wait will be 18 seconds.”: Groovy! Got this customer service message yesterday when calling about insurance. Change that message! Waited 20 minutes and then instructed to leave a voice message. Yeah, right. Customer service, my ass.
  • Phone rings. “Hello?”:  “What are you doing?” Oh, accepting the Nobel Peace Prize, building a rocket in the kitchen, rotating my tires …. I am answering the damn phone. And I thought it was obvious. Meh!

Enough! Ranting is no way to start the day. Better go check my bank account for large deposits.

Cockeyed optimist, I am!

Later.