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…

How to Stay Alive, So Far

Warning: the photo at end of this includes a word that some might find offensive. So sue me.

I will tell the story of the past 48 hours when later. Maybe. Have just two words for you : BE CAREFUL.

Despite the fact that I’ve always lived in nice places and have behaved myself sometimes, I’ve been a witness in a murder trial, thrown in the back of a car by two men (they were saving me from rapist), and almost shot while having a cocktail. I repeat, my lifestyle isn’t sketchy.

Night before last, a young woman was shot to death in her car. Within walking distance of my home. It is so tragic.

Already in possession of a serious alarm system, locked gates, a butcher knife by my bed, other accoutrement, and a ferocious dog, I’ve been forced to take things one step further. (Ferocious dog has hot spots, vet said to put him in baby t-shirt. I don’t have any baby t-shirts so Ferocious is wearing a smocked dress my eldest wore when she was three months old. Not very off-putting to criminals; dog won’t look at me). So, I have posted the following statement on all doors….

Here’s hoping criminals can read. And that the police find the %$#$ who killed an innocent woman. Very soon.

Pissed. Off to terror management.

Later. Hopefully.

Pick Your Nose in Public Day & PDFJ

 

It’s not on my calendar, but it must be Pick Your Nose in Public Day. I ventured out of my cave for a mere hour – everywhere I looked – a nose picker. In the post office, at the pharmacy, in the drive-through line at the bank, in a store. These pickers were elegant older ladies and men in suits. Repulsive. REPULSIVE, people!

Alas, there is no hope for the area where I live. Thirty miles down the road, female church groups are “Pole Dancing for Jesus“. Allegedly, a former exotic dancer teaches the ancient art choreographed to Christian tunes. Eight-inch heels required. I know, I know, every saint has a past and every sinner has a future. BUT I FIND THIS FRIGGING APPALLING. IN. SO. MANY. WAYS. God only knows what’s next.

Am literally all over the map for a while. Unemployed, unencumbered and five great destinations. Go figure. Must be because I’m not a public picker and/or pole dancer. Finally doing some things right!

Later.

Hi, My Name is Izzie and I am lame.

She IS lamo. I know, I have to live with her.

 Not really lame but relying on email jokes for posts is so … so … well, better than nothing I suppose. It’s just too crazy around here to have a good think. Overstimulated and underwhelmed. But marching forward, I share the latest Very Important Info I have received:

“According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December.

Female reindeer retain their antlers until they give birth in the spring. Therefore, according to EVERY historical depiction of Santa’s reindeer, EVERY single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be female.

We should have known … ONLY women would be able to drag a fat man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.” *compliments of the Grand Poobah, NOT Sarah Palin*

Ha Ha Ha Ho Ho Ho ….

Later.

Current Events Report Card: Yikes!

 

 

With the holidays bearing down on us like an 18-wheeler approaching a Volkswagen at 100 mph, the only item that appears to be in short shrift is time. So I must be quick here because I never like to miss an opportunity to be snarky. The topic today is Current Events.

  • Dancing with the Stars – Grade F-: Jennifer Grey is splendid. That Kyle guy is fine. But this Bristol Palin uproar is totally legit. I have no problem with her as a human but she is no dancer. She is being used and I feel sorry for her. Shame on her mother!

 

  •  Airport Sex/Security Procedures – Grade Incomplete: This is messed up on so many levels. Obviously, those  “In The Know” have information about terrorism that demands major security scrutiny. Hello, people! Staging protests = beyond already hideous lines = people missing planes. I get the point. I have heard the woman who had a security guard search inside her underwear, and stating it was worse than a visit to the gynecologist. I’m sorry but that is beyond acceptable. And the poor man who wore a urological contraption which was broken during his search, flooding his clothing and the floor with urine. And he’s supposed to get on a plane after that? Don’t know what the answer is here. But I will walk to my destination before I will allow a stranger – or a friend – to put their hands in my pants while I’m wearing them. Sheesh! What are we going to do here? 

 

  • Raising Hope – Grade A++++++: Backed into this one accidentally and am so glad I did. This is one of the funniest shows I’ve seen in a long time. We all need to laugh. You will laugh if you watch this. No, I am not being paid to say this. Cloris Leachman is hilarious as are all the cast members.
  • Spitting into the Wind – Grade N as in some things Never change: No matter what, I will never, ever, ever, never get used to seeing Christmas decorations in August. With a slight curtsy to Thanksgiving, Christmas is pounded into our lives for way too much of the year. Thanksgiving is a great holiday, too. Would it be too disturbing to focus on one event at a time? Good grief.

That being said, have a great, happy Thanksgiving. And if you don’t do Thanksgiving, have a great, happy week. 

 

I’m putting on my body armor so I can go to the grocery store and purchase ingredients for all the items I must cook. These will be served at my Mother’s house on Thursday. And they better be delicious. Or I will get an F and that doesn’t stand for “Family”.

Gobble, gobble. Later.

 

     

Tight Screws, Cracked Codes, Man Cues, & Stupid News

Good grief! Current events and what passes for “news” are making my brain limp. Er, flatline.

 

 Just Precious

Forgive me for starting out on the hygiene aisle, but this situation is out of hand. A few weeks ago, I got a brightly colored box in the mail. I LOVE surprises. Or did until this one. It was from Kotex; a little gift box of green, yellow, pink, and blue feminine hygiene products. I don’t know about you, but my privacy is color-blind and this was the most stupid advertising I’d ever seen. Until yesterday. I was watching television and a commercial came on. “Mother Nature” and a perky young woman were having a Tampax tiff. Perky woman shut MN down when she proclaimed her “feminine hygiene” product was “cute”. These companies paid the big bucks for advertising. Note to both enterprises: Your Stupid is showing.

 

Teen Text Codes “cracked” on GMA

In an effort to inform and enlighten parents everywhere, “Good Morning America” did a segment explaining just what some cell texts hieroglyphics really mean. I’m sure I’m the worst parent ever, but I’ve never pried the cell phone from either daughter in order to read their texts. That would require surgery as the phones are permanently implanted atop their right hands and I have no interest in that sort of endeavor. Nevertheless, here’s what I learned:

  • cu46 = see you for sex (really?)
  • gnoc = get naked on camera (I think not)
  • 53x = sex (raging hormones, always a problem)
  • wtgfa% = want to go for a drink? (and the drinking age is?)
  • doc = drug of choice (the more things change … blah, blah

 

Wedlock/Deadlock

Writer Bernadette Anat did some asking around on behalf of Glamour and MSN.com regarding “What 12 Things Smart Women Know About Men“; I found two I thought were spot on and not absolute “duhs”. Those are”Be picky” and “Be friends”. On second thought, duh.

Staying on topic, I located a factoid at yahoo.com/answers; it seems the U.S. average age for couples to marry is 25 for women, 27 for men. I was 27 when I married the first time; the jury is still out whether I’ll attempt that again. Marriage, not 27. Then I read about this woman in Taipei. She’s hired a wedding planner and her big bash is set and ready to happen soon. She is marrying herself! The highlight of this rather sad tale was the brilliant anonymous comment that followed …“I give it three months”.

Morons with Money 

A human(?) recently paid $302,500 for a Barbie doll at a New York auction. You must be so proud of yourself. Really, throwing down serious change for a doll when people are starving in … America! Jackwagon. 

 

 

 Political correctness is slowly but surely imprisoning the American population. Those two words sound innocent and proper to me. They are anything but. Freedom doesn’t exist in a place where you must carefully edit your speech and actions, where you can be punished for your opinions. I get that extreme cases require extreme measures. When these measures also apply to Average Joe and Jane, you and me, resulting in loss (job, money, brain cells), then we have a BIG OLD PROBLEM. I’d find a way to fix this if I were smarter, but if you have a good idea, count me in.

Enough!

Later.

 

The Text You Don’t Want to Receive

Good grief! Am sitting here, trying to write happy words and my youngest daughter sends me a text:

“Gunman on campus”

“Where are you?”

“In the ___ house. They are searching for him but he was last seen at the PCL (*library behind her house*) A lot of girls heard the gunshots this morning. UT Alert: ARMED SUSPECT LAST SEEN AT PERRY CASTENADA LIBRARY. SHELTER IN PLACE. STAY WHERE YOU ARE. MORE INFORMATION TO FOLLOW”.

Have heard nothing from her since that text 20 minutes ago. Called the ABC affiliate here, talked to the news desk, they told me they just heard he’d shot himself. They wanted my daughter’s contact info. An ABC Newscaster just broke into Good Morning America to begin reporting on the story. The gunman is dead. The area around the library is closed down to all but police. I believe my daughter is safe. But this story shall play out during the day. I don’t think I will exhale until I hear from her … or see her on tv.

Shit.

*Update: now they are looking for second gunman; have not heard from daughter but am not freaking … yet*

Double shit.

*She sent me a text saying she’s ok. At the same time the television was running film of the police unload an armored tank on campus. They have issued an “All Clear”, school is closed, and her area butts up to the crime scene so she won’t be going anywhere today. Good grief.*