Not my site, me.
I am more than a little terrified but hopefully all will go well. I don’t know how long I will be in the hospital but I promise to whine all about it when I return. For those of you keeping score, I enjoy a sharp, cheddar cheese with my whine.
Talk amongst yourselves. Hope to be back soon.....
Friday, July 30, 2004
Thursday, July 29, 2004
My Version of the Welcome Wagon
I live in an area where the predominant forms of housing are Town Homes. Anyone who lives in such a development is well aware of the parking regulations. In a nut shell, when you purchase a town home you also purchase the 2 parking spaces designated by the Home Owner's Association. In case you are foreign to the concept, upon entering any town home community there are signs posted alerting you to the fact that the spaces are assigned and if you should venture into someone else’s spot, they have every right to tow your vehicle.
Simple, right?
I am a single person who owns a single vehicle and 2 parking spaces. Lucky me! Anytime I have a guest I don't have to deal with a designated guest spot because my other spot should be clear. Think again. It seems that the members of my development thought that since I am one person with one vehicle my other spot magically became a guest spot for my neighbors. I will admit that in the beginning, I made an effort to try and find out who owned the vehicle in my spot. Yes, I would actually go door to door to see who the offender was visiting. My goal was to not offend any neighbor by towing their friend's vehicles. Believe it or not, this got really old really fast. I quickly began to exercise my right to tow anyone in my spot. My general rule is this: ask me to use my spot and I will gladly oblige. Assume that I don't need or use my second spot and use it at your pleasure and I will most certainly tow you. With no guilt and much glee if you must know.
I return after being away for the 4th of July weekend, early Monday afternoon. What do I find when I return to my abode? BOTH of my spaces are occupied. I double park behind the 2 offenders and as I am unloading my car someone from my neighbors house walks out. I ask this person if they might know who own the 2 cars in my spot and without blinking she says she has no idea. Did I mention that these are new neighbors they are in fact moving in as we speak? So I replied quite cheerfully, "great thanks - then you won't mind when I have these 2 cars towed away." To try and be nice I did spend about 20 minutes outside unloading my car, walking my dog in hopes that the owners would come out and ask me to move so they could move. Once inside, I grabbed my cell phone and speed dialed Tommy the Tow Truck Operator he answers Hey Wicked, what's up. I told him to bring the flat bed thing because he has 2 to remove.
Tommy shows up within 10 minutes, miraculously the 2 owners of the vehicles appear, from next door thank you, and we have a towing summit outside. I am watching from the safety of my home. What I witness is some frantic arm flailing, lots of pacing and finally the exchange of wads of cash between said owners and Tommy. He all but bounces up my stairs asks for my key so he can move my vehicle back to it's rightful spot once the offenders move from my spots. I asked Tommy how he did, he replied that it was the easiest cash he has made without breaking a sweat. I believe I may be putting his kids through school....
So, welcome to the neighborhood.
Simple, right?
I am a single person who owns a single vehicle and 2 parking spaces. Lucky me! Anytime I have a guest I don't have to deal with a designated guest spot because my other spot should be clear. Think again. It seems that the members of my development thought that since I am one person with one vehicle my other spot magically became a guest spot for my neighbors. I will admit that in the beginning, I made an effort to try and find out who owned the vehicle in my spot. Yes, I would actually go door to door to see who the offender was visiting. My goal was to not offend any neighbor by towing their friend's vehicles. Believe it or not, this got really old really fast. I quickly began to exercise my right to tow anyone in my spot. My general rule is this: ask me to use my spot and I will gladly oblige. Assume that I don't need or use my second spot and use it at your pleasure and I will most certainly tow you. With no guilt and much glee if you must know.
I return after being away for the 4th of July weekend, early Monday afternoon. What do I find when I return to my abode? BOTH of my spaces are occupied. I double park behind the 2 offenders and as I am unloading my car someone from my neighbors house walks out. I ask this person if they might know who own the 2 cars in my spot and without blinking she says she has no idea. Did I mention that these are new neighbors they are in fact moving in as we speak? So I replied quite cheerfully, "great thanks - then you won't mind when I have these 2 cars towed away." To try and be nice I did spend about 20 minutes outside unloading my car, walking my dog in hopes that the owners would come out and ask me to move so they could move. Once inside, I grabbed my cell phone and speed dialed Tommy the Tow Truck Operator he answers Hey Wicked, what's up. I told him to bring the flat bed thing because he has 2 to remove.
Tommy shows up within 10 minutes, miraculously the 2 owners of the vehicles appear, from next door thank you, and we have a towing summit outside. I am watching from the safety of my home. What I witness is some frantic arm flailing, lots of pacing and finally the exchange of wads of cash between said owners and Tommy. He all but bounces up my stairs asks for my key so he can move my vehicle back to it's rightful spot once the offenders move from my spots. I asked Tommy how he did, he replied that it was the easiest cash he has made without breaking a sweat. I believe I may be putting his kids through school....
So, welcome to the neighborhood.
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Fish Bowl
I love to people watch. Before all the heightened security post 9/11, I used to volunteer to take and pick up friends/family to and from the airport. While waiting for them to depart or arrive, I would enjoy watching the other passengers from afar and come up with a storyline based on their body language and interactions with others.
I recently moved into a new office, which took me out of the basement level, and into a very nice corner office with one whole wall of windows. My office is located near the employee entrance so there is always some type of activity right outside my windows and because of all the activity my door is always closed; less distraction. It’s funny how regimented we can all be. It has been about a month since I’ve been in my new location. By now I can pretty much set my clock to certain co-workers actions. I’ve never been a smoker but I am noticing that the pair of co-workers who take smoke breaks together do so every day at the same time. They enjoy a slow stroll around the parking lot while puffing. Then there is the traffic past my windows during the lunch hour. I generally work through lunch. What can I say, I am a busy woman.
This afternoon I was busily plotting out a spreadsheet. My computer faces the windows. So I would guess that if you are on the outside looking in, it might appear that I am staring at you. I am usually staring at my computer non-stop for hours at a time. I have learned to ignore the activity outside my window. I didn’t notice that one of my co-workers had gone outside to make a cell phone call. It wasn’t until I looked up towards the corner window because I noticed some movement in my peripheral vision. What I see is the woman on the cell phone with her forehead against my window making a fish face at me, all the while continuing with her conversation. When she came back inside, she came into my office and half jokingly/half serious asked why I was staring at her while she was on the phone. When she saw the configuration of my desk she realized that I wasn’t staring at her, instead I was concentrating on the computer. We both got it at the same time and just started laughing. I was being punished with a fish face for seemingly invading her privacy. It was priceless.
I recently moved into a new office, which took me out of the basement level, and into a very nice corner office with one whole wall of windows. My office is located near the employee entrance so there is always some type of activity right outside my windows and because of all the activity my door is always closed; less distraction. It’s funny how regimented we can all be. It has been about a month since I’ve been in my new location. By now I can pretty much set my clock to certain co-workers actions. I’ve never been a smoker but I am noticing that the pair of co-workers who take smoke breaks together do so every day at the same time. They enjoy a slow stroll around the parking lot while puffing. Then there is the traffic past my windows during the lunch hour. I generally work through lunch. What can I say, I am a busy woman.
This afternoon I was busily plotting out a spreadsheet. My computer faces the windows. So I would guess that if you are on the outside looking in, it might appear that I am staring at you. I am usually staring at my computer non-stop for hours at a time. I have learned to ignore the activity outside my window. I didn’t notice that one of my co-workers had gone outside to make a cell phone call. It wasn’t until I looked up towards the corner window because I noticed some movement in my peripheral vision. What I see is the woman on the cell phone with her forehead against my window making a fish face at me, all the while continuing with her conversation. When she came back inside, she came into my office and half jokingly/half serious asked why I was staring at her while she was on the phone. When she saw the configuration of my desk she realized that I wasn’t staring at her, instead I was concentrating on the computer. We both got it at the same time and just started laughing. I was being punished with a fish face for seemingly invading her privacy. It was priceless.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Laughter, it's the BEST Medicine
I just spent the better part of a 15-minute phone call snorting with laughter. The call started out innocently enough with me berating one of my dearest friends. You know, triple dog daring her to get up the nerve to accomplish the very highest item on her to do list. Trying to convince her that you'll never know unless you try - admit it, you've given the speech to your friends before.
She is clever, my friend. Somehow we got off topic and ended up crying we were laughing so hard. I can't remember the last time I laughed with such gusto. In fact, lately I wouldn't have believed I had it in me. She is probably the only friend who can sneak in some gut busting scenarios that just set me off.
You're the bestest, Bishy!!! Thanks, I needed that. Oh, I now officially quadruple dog dare you....HA!!
She is clever, my friend. Somehow we got off topic and ended up crying we were laughing so hard. I can't remember the last time I laughed with such gusto. In fact, lately I wouldn't have believed I had it in me. She is probably the only friend who can sneak in some gut busting scenarios that just set me off.
You're the bestest, Bishy!!! Thanks, I needed that. Oh, I now officially quadruple dog dare you....HA!!
Monday, July 26, 2004
More Wicked H’s Helpful Hints...
If you want me to buy your door to door salesperson's product, she most definitely shouldn't be wearing micro-mini hot pants and a tube top. Sorry, I just don't swing that way. Now send me some male eye candy and we will probably have a sale. Oh, I might even buy whatever product he is peddling.
If you want to impress me with your hands free cell phone technology in the middle of Potomac Mills Mall, make sure the earplug actually leads to a cell phone. Because you know that I am going to check if you have annoyed me to the point of no return. Grey Old Navy tank top wearing LOSER. Oh and you may fish this ear thing out of the yellow trashcan in Neighborhood 12. Have a groovy day - dude.
If you are going to like, check out every can of generic like, peas in that section of the like, grocery store with your like, cart in the middle of the aisle? Then you better be prepared for me to go into uber bumper shopping cart mode. Like, if you like, think of it um like, driving? Then like, you won’t like get like whiplash while grocery shopping. For the love of Odonna Matthews, keep right.
I might just have to change my name to Heloise; I am so darn helpful.
If you want to impress me with your hands free cell phone technology in the middle of Potomac Mills Mall, make sure the earplug actually leads to a cell phone. Because you know that I am going to check if you have annoyed me to the point of no return. Grey Old Navy tank top wearing LOSER. Oh and you may fish this ear thing out of the yellow trashcan in Neighborhood 12. Have a groovy day - dude.
If you are going to like, check out every can of generic like, peas in that section of the like, grocery store with your like, cart in the middle of the aisle? Then you better be prepared for me to go into uber bumper shopping cart mode. Like, if you like, think of it um like, driving? Then like, you won’t like get like whiplash while grocery shopping. For the love of Odonna Matthews, keep right.
I might just have to change my name to Heloise; I am so darn helpful.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Maybe, it's just me......
Is it too much to ask? Or should a person working with the public in a service oriented field have a definite command of the English language? C'mon guys, work with me here, I beg of you.
Today I had to go and get slew of preparative work done for the resolution of my medical crisis. Last time I checked ( oh, and did I mention, I too work in this field?)the business of medicine is most certainly customer service oriented. I realize that I live and work in a diversely cultural area of the United States. I, in fact, am of ethnic heritage myself. Union made but ethnic none-the-less. However; it should not cause me or anyone else for that matter to go postal while trying to be registered into a data base in order to get my blood work drawn. Not unless the clerk registering you can only speak Tarzan's version of English if even that much at all.
I throw the question out to you. Any thoughts on how much of a degree of English you must know if you are the first contact of a business involving customer service?
I now return you to your regular programming....
Have a great weekend!!!
Today I had to go and get slew of preparative work done for the resolution of my medical crisis. Last time I checked ( oh, and did I mention, I too work in this field?)the business of medicine is most certainly customer service oriented. I realize that I live and work in a diversely cultural area of the United States. I, in fact, am of ethnic heritage myself. Union made but ethnic none-the-less. However; it should not cause me or anyone else for that matter to go postal while trying to be registered into a data base in order to get my blood work drawn. Not unless the clerk registering you can only speak Tarzan's version of English if even that much at all.
I throw the question out to you. Any thoughts on how much of a degree of English you must know if you are the first contact of a business involving customer service?
I now return you to your regular programming....
Have a great weekend!!!
Thursday, July 22, 2004
I am a Prankster.....
Hard to believe, I know.
When I lived in rural NC I participated in nearly every production of the Community Theatre. My usual place during the productions was behind the scenes: stage manager, light board, soundboard, prop mistress. You get the idea. Steel Magnolias was our dinner theatre production held at the one and only restaurant in town. It was a given that every production would sell out. It was a town of 5 thousand folks and they all knew each other, very quaint.
My task for this show was prop mistress. Our main character's part was being played by one of the town's young elementary school teachers. Your typical prissy, southern gal. She had a bad habit of not checking her props before each show and she had many props. During one of our pre-productions meetings, I kindly reminded everyone to make sure they checked their props before curtain. Miss Priss told me that was my job and walked off to prepare for the evening. Alrighty then. I decided it was time to teach the teacher a lesson.
Miss Priss has a scene where she opens up a gift box in the beauty shop. In the box is a cute, pink, floor length satin nightgown. Her place on the stage during this scene is facing the audience. The remaining characters are facing her with their backs to the audience. I cannot remember her lines word for word but they went something like this...."Look what Mama bought me to wear while I am in the hospital, isn't it the sweetest thing you've ever seen?" While delivering her lines she is opening the box and holding the nightgown up against her body as if to model it. This particular show, when she opened up the box, out came a red and black satin, open tip, crotch less teddy. I wish I could have snapped a picture of the look on her face when she realized exactly what she was modeling. It was priceless.
Believe it or not, the Community Theatre group continued to ask me back for future shows. Even more surprising, the teacher and I became good friends.
When I lived in rural NC I participated in nearly every production of the Community Theatre. My usual place during the productions was behind the scenes: stage manager, light board, soundboard, prop mistress. You get the idea. Steel Magnolias was our dinner theatre production held at the one and only restaurant in town. It was a given that every production would sell out. It was a town of 5 thousand folks and they all knew each other, very quaint.
My task for this show was prop mistress. Our main character's part was being played by one of the town's young elementary school teachers. Your typical prissy, southern gal. She had a bad habit of not checking her props before each show and she had many props. During one of our pre-productions meetings, I kindly reminded everyone to make sure they checked their props before curtain. Miss Priss told me that was my job and walked off to prepare for the evening. Alrighty then. I decided it was time to teach the teacher a lesson.
Miss Priss has a scene where she opens up a gift box in the beauty shop. In the box is a cute, pink, floor length satin nightgown. Her place on the stage during this scene is facing the audience. The remaining characters are facing her with their backs to the audience. I cannot remember her lines word for word but they went something like this...."Look what Mama bought me to wear while I am in the hospital, isn't it the sweetest thing you've ever seen?" While delivering her lines she is opening the box and holding the nightgown up against her body as if to model it. This particular show, when she opened up the box, out came a red and black satin, open tip, crotch less teddy. I wish I could have snapped a picture of the look on her face when she realized exactly what she was modeling. It was priceless.
Believe it or not, the Community Theatre group continued to ask me back for future shows. Even more surprising, the teacher and I became good friends.
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
In Training
I will be conducting a training session for the next 2 days. Always a fun time. We will see what type of brain trust the Gods have sent me.
Talk amongst yourselves.....
Talk amongst yourselves.....
Monday, July 19, 2004
Another Death Prevented - Hats Off to the Reston Starbucks Barista
Picture this: it is 6 am and I stroll into the local Starbucks near work quite ecstatic to see that I am one of 2 customers. It is of note that I am not a regular patron, I show up occasionally when I feel the need to splurge. A girl has to have at least one legal vice. Young Perky Blonde Business Woman (YPBBW) is ahead of me placing her order. I am most definitely not a morning person (you all have been fairly warned) so far this morning is going well for within mere moments I will have my caffeine fix. Life is good. Well not exactly. It seems that YPBBW is indeed a regular patron as it takes her 20 words to place an order. While doing so she is constantly flipping her sopping wet long blonde locks in an effort to flirt with the guy behind the counter. Don’t get me wrong, young lust is a wonderful thing. However each time YPBBW flips her hair off her shoulder, I must wipe the water from my face. Someone is going to die.
The Barista witnesses my dissatisfaction to my second shower of the morning and asks me to come over to him so he can take my order. He asks what he can do for me. I tell him that even better than making me a cup of coffee he can move heaven and earth to get YPBBW out the door before she dies. She is still reciting word 17 of her order and he is working fast and furious to get her coffee prepared. I have taken my place back in line behind her. He actually handed her the coffee and personally escorted her out the door.
Life is once again good, I now have my Grande Latte and YPBBW gets to live.
Cheers!!
The Barista witnesses my dissatisfaction to my second shower of the morning and asks me to come over to him so he can take my order. He asks what he can do for me. I tell him that even better than making me a cup of coffee he can move heaven and earth to get YPBBW out the door before she dies. She is still reciting word 17 of her order and he is working fast and furious to get her coffee prepared. I have taken my place back in line behind her. He actually handed her the coffee and personally escorted her out the door.
Life is once again good, I now have my Grande Latte and YPBBW gets to live.
Cheers!!
Helpful Hints from Wicked H
Dear Panhandler at Constitution and 23rd:
Dude if you want me to donate to the cause, it might be a good idea to not be walking around with a perfect goatee and more product in your hair than myself.
I am just not feeling sorry for you. Try again next time.
Dude if you want me to donate to the cause, it might be a good idea to not be walking around with a perfect goatee and more product in your hair than myself.
I am just not feeling sorry for you. Try again next time.
Friday, July 16, 2004
Just An Oil Change and Could You Manage to Get It Done In a Jiffy?
What happened to truth in advertising? I know, I know. I live in fantasy land.
So I am on my way to my niece's birthday celebration when I find that I have navigated the Metro area traffic with an extra 20 minutes to spare. As luck would have it I have time to get the oil changed. I have successfully pulled my SUV in line behind the oil changing bay, given my vehicle info to the J-Team member and am now in the waiting room with 4 gentlemen. I was assured that my vehicle would be up in 10-11 minutes and then in another 12 minutes I could be on my merry way. I have a 9-year-olds birthday bash to get to. I certainly don't want to be late for the very important date.
Sure enough in 10 minutes my SUV is ready to have it's oil changed, fluids checked, etc. Into the waiting room comes a stellar member of the J-Team asking me to the bay area. He informs me that everything looks great; however his computer tells him that at 18000 miles my particular SUV needs 2 critical things changed. One was the air filter the other item sounded more important don’t ask me now what it was (I never said I was a mechanic - okay). To which I whipped out the manufacturers spread sheet given to me by my SUV dealership, which states these things don’t need changing for at least another 2 oil changes. I suggested the J-Team upgrade the info in their computer and please get back to changing my oil in a jiffy.
When I return to the waiting room I am greeted with a standing ovation from one of the gentlemen. Here is our exchange:
JLMC (Jiffy Lube Male Customer): Wow that was great! Do you think you could teach my wife how to stand up for herself the next time she brings our car here?
ME: Gee, wouldn’t be easier for you to simply bring the car for her???
On that note, my name was called; I paid for my oil change and was on my way. I think JLMC was still standing mouth agape as I drove off.
So I am on my way to my niece's birthday celebration when I find that I have navigated the Metro area traffic with an extra 20 minutes to spare. As luck would have it I have time to get the oil changed. I have successfully pulled my SUV in line behind the oil changing bay, given my vehicle info to the J-Team member and am now in the waiting room with 4 gentlemen. I was assured that my vehicle would be up in 10-11 minutes and then in another 12 minutes I could be on my merry way. I have a 9-year-olds birthday bash to get to. I certainly don't want to be late for the very important date.
Sure enough in 10 minutes my SUV is ready to have it's oil changed, fluids checked, etc. Into the waiting room comes a stellar member of the J-Team asking me to the bay area. He informs me that everything looks great; however his computer tells him that at 18000 miles my particular SUV needs 2 critical things changed. One was the air filter the other item sounded more important don’t ask me now what it was (I never said I was a mechanic - okay). To which I whipped out the manufacturers spread sheet given to me by my SUV dealership, which states these things don’t need changing for at least another 2 oil changes. I suggested the J-Team upgrade the info in their computer and please get back to changing my oil in a jiffy.
When I return to the waiting room I am greeted with a standing ovation from one of the gentlemen. Here is our exchange:
JLMC (Jiffy Lube Male Customer): Wow that was great! Do you think you could teach my wife how to stand up for herself the next time she brings our car here?
ME: Gee, wouldn’t be easier for you to simply bring the car for her???
On that note, my name was called; I paid for my oil change and was on my way. I think JLMC was still standing mouth agape as I drove off.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
I Am Smarter Than I Look
I am the middle of 3 daughters. My Dad is quite a nosey person by nature. My Mother once told me that while she and Dad were dating ( or whatever the ancient equivalent to that word was back in their day) her soon to be Mother-in-Law warned her of his nosiness. She went so far as to tell my Mom that if you try and hide something from him, he will find it. Better to be up front with him at all times.
That being established, I didn't move out of my Parent's home till way past the national average. ( Another post topic entirely) It was common place for all of the inhabitants of our home to weekly take their trash to the big trash container located in the garage. It was then Dad’s job to make sure the trash got out for collection. One Saturday, after I had already emptied my trash into the garage receptacle, I went back into the garage for something. I discovered my Dad going meticulously through the bag I had deposited there. I quietly watched while he rummaged through the entire contents finding nothing worth keeping. Naturally I was offended. But it didn't take long for me to see how often he did this. So what I did from that day on was to leave notes in my trash for him to find. Things like: " sorry Dad! Nothing in this bag, try again real soon" or " not much to see in this bag, Dad". You get the point. I did this sporadically for a few months. He never mentioned finding the notes and I never asked him why he was going through my trash.
Fast forward to me finally leaving the Nest. I am making preparations to leave for a good job opportunity I am moving 3 States away. My Dad asked me if I wanted anything for a going away/housewarming gift I told him a stocked tool box would be a great idea. So I have now moved to my new place. I am pretty relaxed about unpacking everything I own right away. In fact I envy those who are unpacked and settled within 12 hours of moving to a new place. That being said, it took me a week or so to use the tool box. When I opened it up and lifted out the tray I found hundreds of my trash notes bundled together with a letter from my Dad on top. The letter was an apology for not trusting me and a thanks to me for indulging his curiosity. The letter went on to say that he was real proud of the way I turned out and that he was well aware of the fact that if I were to do something he may disapprove of I certainly would have disposed of the evidence away from the house. I am smarter than I look.
Takes one to know one, Dad
That being established, I didn't move out of my Parent's home till way past the national average. ( Another post topic entirely) It was common place for all of the inhabitants of our home to weekly take their trash to the big trash container located in the garage. It was then Dad’s job to make sure the trash got out for collection. One Saturday, after I had already emptied my trash into the garage receptacle, I went back into the garage for something. I discovered my Dad going meticulously through the bag I had deposited there. I quietly watched while he rummaged through the entire contents finding nothing worth keeping. Naturally I was offended. But it didn't take long for me to see how often he did this. So what I did from that day on was to leave notes in my trash for him to find. Things like: " sorry Dad! Nothing in this bag, try again real soon" or " not much to see in this bag, Dad". You get the point. I did this sporadically for a few months. He never mentioned finding the notes and I never asked him why he was going through my trash.
Fast forward to me finally leaving the Nest. I am making preparations to leave for a good job opportunity I am moving 3 States away. My Dad asked me if I wanted anything for a going away/housewarming gift I told him a stocked tool box would be a great idea. So I have now moved to my new place. I am pretty relaxed about unpacking everything I own right away. In fact I envy those who are unpacked and settled within 12 hours of moving to a new place. That being said, it took me a week or so to use the tool box. When I opened it up and lifted out the tray I found hundreds of my trash notes bundled together with a letter from my Dad on top. The letter was an apology for not trusting me and a thanks to me for indulging his curiosity. The letter went on to say that he was real proud of the way I turned out and that he was well aware of the fact that if I were to do something he may disapprove of I certainly would have disposed of the evidence away from the house. I am smarter than I look.
Takes one to know one, Dad
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
Hypocrites, Shipocrites......
"I am going to inject the iodine now through the IV. You may feel a warm sensation around your neck, face and in the pelvic region. Of course, I usually have this effect on my patients even with out the injection."
The above was a conversation between me and my very cute, young, male CT tech during my pelvic CAT scan. Our banter was witty and friendly but I certainly wasn't expecting him to go that far with the comments. I told him that it didn't bother me. In fact I needed a good distraction and between the hottie Tech and sharp banter it was just what the doctor ordered.
The above was a conversation between me and my very cute, young, male CT tech during my pelvic CAT scan. Our banter was witty and friendly but I certainly wasn't expecting him to go that far with the comments. I told him that it didn't bother me. In fact I needed a good distraction and between the hottie Tech and sharp banter it was just what the doctor ordered.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Let’s Say It Together Gang......DILDO-CAM
Laughter is the best medicine so they say. May I suggest grabbing a new pair of Depends and reading on?
Imagine finding yourself at the local radiology place supine on the exam table with the oh so lovely and ill-fitting cloth (it could have been paper - there is a GOD) gown. A very serious ultrasound tech comes in, introduces herself, proceeds to pull up the gown; places warmed gel on your belly and waves her magic wand and stares intently at her monitor. I asked "how do you guys keep us from peeing all over your table" she replied "with threats of probes and such." OKIE DOKIE then. So 3 minutes later her magic wand stops she lets me sit up and asks me to go empty my bladder and return to the room. So I do. What I find when I return is the table's stirrups are now pulled out and she wants me to lay back down put my feet up in said stirrups and scooch down to the edge of the table. Just for the record I DID NOT PEE ON THE EXAM TABLE. Okay, so there I am. Out comes DILDO -CAM. I kid you not! A probe with what resembles a price check scanner on its very tip and the whole thing is housed in its OSHA approved plastic sheath. Well I now feel a hell of a lot better, don't you? Said probe is now being inserted inside me. I usually have established some type of intimate trust before I allow things to go so far with acquaintances; at least a few dinners and many hours of conversation.
Serious Tech is glued to her monitor while navigating DILDO-CAM about. I nervously ask if she will tell me what she finds. She stops what she is doing and tells me that as soon as she is done, she will reveal to me what she sees. How can I describe how this all felt, let me just say that if the thing vibrated I personally would not have an issue with increased health insurance premiums. Unfortunately, it didn't vibrate and furthermore...EEEWWWWWWWW.
I won't go into the sordid details of findings. Things could have been better as well as being much worse. So you Men out there, consider yourselves quite lucky for at the moment there is no equal technology for your private parts but don't think I haven't hired a Nazi Female Scientist to start the research pronto!!!
Imagine finding yourself at the local radiology place supine on the exam table with the oh so lovely and ill-fitting cloth (it could have been paper - there is a GOD) gown. A very serious ultrasound tech comes in, introduces herself, proceeds to pull up the gown; places warmed gel on your belly and waves her magic wand and stares intently at her monitor. I asked "how do you guys keep us from peeing all over your table" she replied "with threats of probes and such." OKIE DOKIE then. So 3 minutes later her magic wand stops she lets me sit up and asks me to go empty my bladder and return to the room. So I do. What I find when I return is the table's stirrups are now pulled out and she wants me to lay back down put my feet up in said stirrups and scooch down to the edge of the table. Just for the record I DID NOT PEE ON THE EXAM TABLE. Okay, so there I am. Out comes DILDO -CAM. I kid you not! A probe with what resembles a price check scanner on its very tip and the whole thing is housed in its OSHA approved plastic sheath. Well I now feel a hell of a lot better, don't you? Said probe is now being inserted inside me. I usually have established some type of intimate trust before I allow things to go so far with acquaintances; at least a few dinners and many hours of conversation.
Serious Tech is glued to her monitor while navigating DILDO-CAM about. I nervously ask if she will tell me what she finds. She stops what she is doing and tells me that as soon as she is done, she will reveal to me what she sees. How can I describe how this all felt, let me just say that if the thing vibrated I personally would not have an issue with increased health insurance premiums. Unfortunately, it didn't vibrate and furthermore...EEEWWWWWWWW.
I won't go into the sordid details of findings. Things could have been better as well as being much worse. So you Men out there, consider yourselves quite lucky for at the moment there is no equal technology for your private parts but don't think I haven't hired a Nazi Female Scientist to start the research pronto!!!
Monday, July 12, 2004
Let's Talk About Drive Through Etiquette, Shall We?
If while in the fast food Drive Through lane you are in need of a special order, for the love of Mayor Mc Cheese go inside. Special orders due upset those of us who chose the Drive Through for the quickness of it all.
While utilizing the drive through ATM and you feel the need to test every function the machine has available for you, could you PLEASE do this during non-rush hours times. Some of us are TRYING to get to work or our appointment on time. May I suggest on-line banking. Again, Drive Through lanes are for brief transactions.
Don’t make me hurt you!!!!!
P.S. While utilizing any type of Drive Through do not and I repeat DO NOT also be on your cell. I implore you!
While utilizing the drive through ATM and you feel the need to test every function the machine has available for you, could you PLEASE do this during non-rush hours times. Some of us are TRYING to get to work or our appointment on time. May I suggest on-line banking. Again, Drive Through lanes are for brief transactions.
Don’t make me hurt you!!!!!
P.S. While utilizing any type of Drive Through do not and I repeat DO NOT also be on your cell. I implore you!
Sunday, July 11, 2004
To Blog or Not to Blog.....Welcome to Avert Your Eyes
Okay, so I am never one to be right up there with the times. Some say it is part of my charm others say part of my generation. To be honest more like laziness and lack of techno-web know how. If it weren't for my good friends, HFS and Juliet, I would still be one of those lurkers in the blog world, leaving comments here and there. Thanks to them, here I am. Let me make it clear that they are the techno-brains behind this operation so if you have complaints about anything besides content, I respectfully direct you their links.
What will you see here? I'll be honest again, I have no game plan. I am more of a shoot from the hip type of person when it comes to the ideas and thoughts that rattle on in my head. I can promise that politics will most definitely not appear here. Living in the Metro DC area is enough politics for me.
So welcome to my site, if you like it great! And if not...Avert Your Eyes!!!!!
What will you see here? I'll be honest again, I have no game plan. I am more of a shoot from the hip type of person when it comes to the ideas and thoughts that rattle on in my head. I can promise that politics will most definitely not appear here. Living in the Metro DC area is enough politics for me.
So welcome to my site, if you like it great! And if not...Avert Your Eyes!!!!!
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