A visit to the post office

Granted, today was not the optimum day to visit the post office. But there I am, along with everyone else in the northern suburbs. There are at least 25 people ahead of me, and another 25 in line at the DIY machine. (I have been known to lie at the machine. When they ask "Will this label fit on your box", I always think, "Somehow, that sucker is going on the box, no matter what." So define 'fit'. But I digress. I was fortunate to be between 2 ladies who had a sense of humor. Of course, there was only one window open. And we were laughing at the lack of concern for speed. One lady had bills to mail, along with her package. We figured she would be asked if there was anything fragile, liquid or perishable in them, and then they would be subject to the slot test to see if they were too fat to go for the regular first class postage. We thought if they had provided cookies it would have gone a long way to maintaining a spirit of holiday. The other lady said she could open the box of chocolates she was mailing. That sounded like a good idea. Then she could tell the friends she had donated a box of chocolates in their name.

I had to fill out some customs forms for 2 of my packages. They were different than the last time. But I gamely scribbled out all the information while I stood in line. But, when I got to the window, I found out that I had not pressed hard enough to make the multiple copies needed. So, I had to rewrite everything, while others waited. Oops, I started one of them on the second sheet, not the first one. Not to worry. The postal worker told me he was going to throw that one out anyway. Go figure.

So, it's finally time to go, and say farewell to all my new friends. I feel like I have known them forever. The elderly lady who had been behind me, followed me out the door. "Now where in the world is my car?" she says. "I parked it right here and it's not here anymore." Now you have to understand that this lot is about the size of a postage stamp, itself. I offered to help locate it. "What color is it?" "It's the same color as this car," she says. "Are you sure it's not this car?" "I'm sure." "Okay, try your door opener and see if any of them blink." Nothing. So then I ask her, "What kind of car is it?" "It's a Buick LeSabre." "Well, this one's a Buick LeSabre. Are you sure this isn't your car?" So she tried the door. It worked. Then she says, "That darned husband of mine. He must have put the new plates on it without telling me." Then she hopped in and drove off. I'm thinking, this will no doubt be me in another 10 years.

Too busy

I just hung the Christmas stockings by the fireplace. Somehow I hung too many hooks. But the saddest part is that I hung one more than I originally thought I needed which was also too many. I needed 11, decided to hang 13 and when all was said and done, I had 14 up there. How does a person do something like that? Now the worst part is that I don't have any more Command adhesive for the hooks which means that if I take them down and reorganize, I have nothing left to hang them back up there. I've decided that the only answer to this conundrum is to adopt. We obviously need 3 more family members. I think I need to lie down.

Floss

I was so grateful when someone invented travel sized floss. It allows me to get so much more in my suitcase now. What a life saver!!

Another wedding

I was a week behind on when I should have gotten my hair done, but my hair person was on vacation. I was trying to negotiate with him about checking with me before he scheduled trips, but he didn't agree. The result of this little debacle was that I showed up at this wedding looking a little worse for the wear. I told the mother of the groom that I did it just for her, so that every time I stood close to her she looked marvelous. It seemed to work because she did look marvelous. And it was a very fun weekend. And for the record, I behaved myself all weekend. There was no butting in the buffet line, and no public humiliation.

Public Humiliation

We were publicly humiliated at a wedding last night and I think I really need to give my side of the issue before things get out of hand. We had to drive 30 miles to get to the reception after the wedding. Plus there was a bit of lag time, on top of the travel time. Let's just say that the natives were getting restless, and hungry. Now, I was sitting at a table with relatives of the groom, which should have given us license of some kind. And the Aunt of the groom and I are really a bad combination. Now, we were trying to ascertain just how the tables were being dismissed for the buffet, and for the life of me, there just didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason. I must have blacked out because the next thing I knew, we were all in line for the buffet. And the MC was saying something like this, "Now, people, if we could just wait until our table is dismissed, we could minimize confusion and mayhem." I have to say we were not repentant at all, and thoroughly enjoyed our ill gotten food. And the son of my friend, the aunt, who happened to be a groomsmen, came over to our table later. He said, "I looked up and there was my whole family in line...I was so proud."

Now I ask you. Once you turn 60, doesn't that give you some sort of carte blanche to do crazy old lady things? I mean, how old do you have to be? It's not as if I whacked someone with my cane. I don't have one of those yet.

The Delta Debacle

Have I mentioned how much I love Delta? We are forced to fly Delta because it's the one my husband must use when he travels for business, so I don't want any comments about us changing over to a different airline. Retirement looms on the horizon, but until then...

Here is my diatribe after my flights on Thursday last week. Nothing leaves on time or arrives on time and everything is always always overbooked, sometimes more overbooked than other times, but always overbooked. Other details vary. This time our pilot called in sick 10 minutes to take off. One must assume he called from the bar at the airport. So we sat and waited for the new guy to arrive. Well, he sounded like he might have been almost 14. He starts up the engine, and it dies, so they have to bring in the starter cart, or in layman's terms, the jumper cables. And we're off to Detroit, because no matter where you are flying from or to, now that Delta owns the skies, everyone is routed through Detroit. And next to Delta itself, I think I hate Detroit next worse. Since everything is always screwed up with flight times, I mean why even give a flight time, they could just say, "Hey, come on over, hang out at the airport, and eventually there will be a plane going somewhere close to your destination. So, inevitably you have to race like crazy down through Detroit's little rain forest place, which I'm sure would have a calming effect if everyone wasn't late and in a massive hurry. And you arrive at your gate only to find your plane has been delayed. But this time, we left the gate only to sit in line on the tarmac for an hour, AN HOUR, since only one runway is open. And I really timed it. There were 25 planes in line on one runway, waiting to take off. The one thing they have over Northwest, which used to be my airline of choice, is that they serve peanuts, but you have to be in the peanut zone.

I'm waiting for the day they require you to hold someone on your lap or pay a penalty.

Vacation Fun

I was remembering the episode on Sesame Street, years ago, when Grover is the waiter, and he keeps telling his customer they are out of every beverage he names. In desperation the patron asks what they DO have. Grover says "We have milk". to which the customer orders milk. Then Grover says, "Sorry, we're out of glasses."

We are staying in Helen, GA, this week, and we have little Will with us. After nearly falling in the rushing river, landing on my back on slippery rocks, and seeing my life flash before me, and being reassured by the Rocket Scientist that I'm fine, I don't need to change before going out to eat, we arrive at the Huddle House. Huddle Houses are about 1/2 step up from Waffle Houses, FYI. Our waitress arrives to take our beverage order, and the first thing she says is, "We're out of a few things tonight. We don't have anymore waffles, ketchup, or rutabagas." Immediately you envision a troupe of Cloggers arriving to spend the weekend and eating tons of waffles with rutabagas on them, and instead of syrup they want ketchup. So we order 2 milks and a coffee. She bounces back a few minutes later to tell us they are also out of milk, but they do have ketchup packets. So we order. I order chopped steak with mushroom gravy and mashed potatoes and green beans. Wayne orders chicken fried steak with white gravy, a baked potato and green beans. Will wanted chicken fingers, and fries, although he seemed a bit obsessed with strawberry jam on something. Soon the food arrives. For Wayne, his chicken fried steak, with gravy and potato, no beans. For me, chopped steak, mashed potatoes, no beans, no gravy. For Will chicken Fingers, and fries. Little Miss Sunshine assures us she will return with both the beans and the gravy. Five minutes later she bounces back with one order of beans, and flashes this huge smile, as if she has just solved cold fusion. I ask her if we are to share one order of beans, or if another one is forthcoming, and where is the gravy? Another 5 minutes pass, and she returns to tell us the bad news, they are out of beans now, do I want another side? And here's the gravy, no mushrooms. By now, my potatoes are cold, and I really don't want another potato as a side, so skip the side, deduct it. So we manage to finish dinner. Will did eat one chicken finger, and Wayne's toast with strawberry jam. The bill arrives, it has the milk on it and no deduction for the missing beans. And when we returned to the condo I looked in the mirror and realized my whole rear end is wet, and I'm covered in dirt and moss, and I will have to kill Wayne. Life in the fast lane.

My alien cat

My cat is trying to make me lose my mind. He follows me from room to room and just sits and stares at me. Repeated attempts to discover what he may want are futile. Nothing works. I read a book once that asserted that cats are really aliens waiting to take over the earth. Maybe he's trying to tell me the time has come.

Department of Abused Apostrophes

Last week, while traveling, I ran across a sign that said, "Acupuncture and Herb's". It made me wonder who would name a child Acupuncture, and what sort of business it actually was, since obviously, it belonged to these 2 people. Another mystery to solve.

Cars on Fire

Driving along, minding my own business, this morning, my steering wheel started smoking. I'm no expert on cars, but it seemed like this was not a typically good thing to happen. Since previously this week, my electronic windows had begun to function in a completely random fashion, I was afraid to roll the windows down, unless they got stuck down. But the smoke was beginning to blur my vision, not to mention the smell was getting bad. So, do I pull over and abandon the car, or carry on? I carried on, but decided to have my girlfriend drive me home. Turns out that the electrical harness was toasted. Who even knew there was a harness for the wiring. Is it sort of like a bra for wires? But I was told that I was lucky the car didn't burst into flames. Nice to know. In all of this debacle, my running lights were on and wouldn't turn off. I didn't even know I had them. And, where in the world was my owner's manual? There are so many questions that need answering. All in all, not a good day. But my trusty mechanic, Chris, called to ask me if they could keep the car overnight, to test everything out before I got it back. That seemed like a no brainer. The next time it smokes, it could blow up. Who wants that?

The cat who would be king

My cat runs my life. This will not be news to anyone else out there who is owned by a cat. But I'm blaming this all on my sister. It all started because the great white hunter always wanted to drink from the faucet in the bathroom. And, of course he always wanted to do that when I needed to use the sink, so I was forced to wait while he had his leisurely drink, because of course, cats are never in a hurry, unless you want to take them to the vet, and then they can run like lightening. But I digress. So baby sister tells me I should fill a glass for him and then he can drink from a glass, not the faucet. So, now I have to continuously refill his glass. Next step is to buy a fountain for him, which he doesn't like. So now we're back to the glass on the counter. But he only likes fresh water, so he has to see you draw the water, or he won't drink it. So, 10 years down the road and he's getting arthritic and can't jump on the counter easily, like he once could. So, now the glass is on the floor. But, it dawned on him this week that a glass on the floor is no better than a plebeian type water dish, so now he wants it back on the counter, but he must be lifted up to be able to drink. So, he comes to me, wherever I am in the house, meows at me, and I lift him up and fill his water glass. And all this started when he wanted to drink from the faucet. Meanwhile, baby sister has divested herself of the fountain she bought for her cats, but I still have mine. No wonder he thinks he's a god.

Granny Glo

Okay, I now know why you see old ladies with spots all over their shirts. I've become one of those old ladies. You seem to reach a point when you say, "I just don't care anymore." I guess that's me. As I'm noticing the spot on my shirt, I'm also tipping my glass forward and now there's coke in my socks. In my vague memory I can recall changing pantyhose because there was a small snag somewhere. Now I just move the 1/2 inch run to the back and pretend it's not there, or if someone mentions it, which takes incredibly bad taste, if you asked me, I feign ignorance and mumble something about it must have been the chair with the unsanded leg that did it. When did I morph into this mess of a person? Can the home be far behind?

The Post Office Visit

I had to go to the local post office this morning. (I am not sure, but I think I singlehandedly keep the postal service in business.) I was in line behind several people who required extraordinary help with their several packages. It was as if they had never mailed anything before. Patiently the clerk was helping them address and tape up their boxes. We all waited. Then there was the explanation of the 45 different ways to send these things, how many days it will take, and so on. This guy had a box that was going to cost over $100 to ship! I think I would just fly with it and take a vacation, it might be cheaper. And I didn't mention to this person that if they were sending it to AZ they were totally out of luck. I was down that road before. I was told an express envelope I sent took a whole month to arrive because allot of old people live there. I never knew you had to check the demographics of a location before you shipped anything. And I wondered if they were hauling truckloads of mail to the various nursing homes for sorting. The mind reels. That's the trouble with being organized. You expect the same standard from others. Someday we will talk about the people at the fabric stores who have to lay out their fabric while getting it cut, just to make sure that the requirements on the back of the envelope are correct, or the ones who buy 25 cuts of fleece. What does a normal person do with 50 yards of fleece?

Tacos serving beer

I was intrigued by a new restaurant we saw yesterday. We were on the way to get a pizza and next door was a small Mexican venue. There was a sign posted boldly: 'Tacos serving beer.' On the other side the sign said 'Burritos serving beer.' Although I was hungry for pizza and I don't drink beer, I really wanted to go there for lunch and order beer just to see the taco serving it.

Meanwhile, mad scientist was monkeying around with the cable and the phone lines trying to fix the loud humming on the line. The next time I wanted to make a phone call, the line was dead. Now, he claimed it was probably just a huge, giant coincident that the line went dead while he was working on it, and it could have had another cause. I was trying to look on the bright side. At least the humming was gone.

Today is Friday. That means I have received my weekly email from my web site server. They warn me weekly about a past overdue account. We took care of it in December. It occurred to me that it may be like the Star Trek episode where they were getting auto-response things from a certain ship for years and years and upon investigation they discovered that everyone had been dead forever. It makes me wonder if everyone is dead there and the auto-response thing just keeps going. Someone should check it out, I think.

Vests with Tabs

Oddly, I was actually watching the safety video on the plane yesterday. Have you ever done that? It's quite strange. All the flight attendants look like avatars or something. The cheeks have got to be implanted, either that or they are busily storing up nuts for the winter. And then they got to the part about the life vest. And she says if you don't have a tab on your vest, and I'm thinking, IF I DON'T HAVE A TAB ON MY VEST? And she's so nonchalant about it. So, suddenly I'm trying to dig around under my seat to see if I have a vest with a tab on it. And the nearby attendant tries to assure me that it won't matter. But I realized that, hey, we're flying over the desert, maybe I won't have to worry about a water landing. I'm still a little concerned about the vests with no tabs. But I suppose if I'm heading nose down into the sand, a vest with a tab will be the least of my worries.

For the past 8 years or so I have been making small, desk sized calendars for friends and family. Unable to find a calendar template, I create my own every year. I ought to employ an editor because there is always at least one error. This year there were two March 22nds. That would be wonderful if your birthday were March 22. And this led me to think that perhaps I should make a whole month with my birthdate on it. But that might just be too confusing for all the Tinas out there. But, the one friend that noticed it today asked if this was an intelligence test. It did get me to thinking, and wondering why 25 people had not notified me. Maybe next year I'll give a prize to the first person to find the mistake. The prize could be a whole boxful of outdated calendars, and a set of stickers to mark important dates.

Online Classes and Tina

The mad scientist signed up for some sort of web instruction this morning and forgot he had done so. We arrived home to find the message light blinking madly on the phone, and a semi intelligible message, which he immediately deciphered. He recognized the error of his ways, and dialed in. It was apparent that he was in the slow group. There was a member named "Tina" who couldn't even log in right. I knew it was going to be a long session. I told him he should ask to be promoted to the AP group. Tina couldn't hear, Tina didn't know much of anything. You wondered if Tina was at the library using a borrowed computer because it seemed like she had never been on one before. And poor Raoul, the facilitator, was having some trouble communicating. Fun times. When we left, in despair, for lunch, Tina was still having problems, and so was Raoul. Mad Scientist thought he could figure it out on his own.