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.