Happy New Year Everyone!

Happy New Year Recipe
For Peace & Happiness

Take twelve, fine, full-grown months,
see that these are thoroughly free from
all old memories of bitterness, rancor,
hate and jealousy; cleanse them
completely from every clinging spite:
pick off all specks of pettiness and
littleness; in short , see that these
months are freed from all the past;
have them as fresh and clean as when
they first came from the great
storehouse of Time.

Cut these months into thirty or thirty-one
equal parts. This batch will keep for just
one year. Do not attempt to make up the
whole batch at one time (so many persons
spoil the entire lot in this way), but
prepare one day at a time, as follows:

Into each day put twelve parts of faith,
eleven of patience, ten of courage, nine
of work (some people omit this
ingredient and so spoil the flavor of
the rest), eight of hope, seven of
fidelity, six of liberality, five of
kindness, four of rest (leaving this
out is like leaving the oil out of the
salad, don't do it), three of prayer,
two of meditation, and one well selected
resolution. If you have no conscientious
scruples, put in about a teaspoonful of
good spirits, a dash of fun, and a pinch of
folly, a sprinkling of play, and a
heaping cupful of good humor.

Pour into the whole love ad libitum and
mix with vim. Cook thoroughly in a
fervent heat; garnish with a few smiles
and a sprig of joy; then serve with
quietness, unselfishness, and
cheerfulness, and a Happy New Year
is certain.


Author unknown

Dear Neighborhood Exhibitionist:

Wow. Just wow. I have so much to say; too much adrenaline surging to collect my thoughts.

Your dancing prowess is exemplary. That whirly thing you do with your member is really quite amazing. Have you had any professional training?

Are you aware that while you are practicing your American Bandstand™ moves in the nude at 5:10 in the morning in front of your bedroom window with the curtains open, you are effectually giving the neighborhood a show?

For the record, I would like to point out that I did not seek out this performance. Dexter, my dog, happens to squat right across the street from his home. I will say that I have not needed my morning caffeine fix. Adrenaline surges are better stimulants that boring ole caffeine.

Rock on Dude! I’ll, um, see you tomorrow at 5:10 am.

Get a Room

To the couple who are obviously quite enamored with each other, I beg you, take it elsewhere.

Don’t get me wrong, I am all for expressing ones love but not in front of my picture window while I am trying to eat lunch and complete year end financial reports simultaneously.

Have some decorum.

Plus I really don’t have the time for a cold shower in the middle of my work day.

Early Christmas Present

Redskins 35 Giants 20

Thank you St. Nick!

A Politically Correct Christmas Story

A little something to enjoy in this crazy time. Be safe everyone!!!


'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."

And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorised use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.


Copyright; Author Unknown

This Greeting Has Been Cleared by My Attorney

(A little something in the continuing vain of political correctness)

From me ("the wishor") to you ("the wishee") please accept without obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, politically correct, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

I wish you a financially successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2006, but with due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures or sects, and having regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, choice of computer platform or sexual preference of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting you are bound by these terms that:-

This greeting is subject to further clarification or withdrawal.

This greeting is freely transferable provided that no alteration shall be made to the original greeting and that the proprietary rights of the wishor are acknowledged.

This greeting implies no promise by the wishor to actually implement any of the wishes.

This greeting may not be enforceable in certain jurisdictions and/or the restrictions herein may not be binding upon certain wishees in certain jurisdictions and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wishor.

This greeting is warranted to perform as reasonably may be expected within the usual application of good tidings, for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first.

The wishor warrants this greeting only for the limited replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wishor. Any references in this greeting to "The Lord", "Father Christmas", "Our Savior", "Rudolph the red nosed reindeer" or any other festive figures, whether actual or fictitious, dead or alive, shall not imply any endorsement by or from them in respect of this greeting, and all proprietary rights in any referenced third party names and images are hereby acknowledged.

This greeting is made under United States Law.

Dated this 20th day of December two thousand and five.

What the Bleep?

I always find it highly amusing to gather a bunch of people and their respective significant others together in the spirit of the Holidays. This group generally would not socialize together.

Snippets of conversations overheard while mingling:

“He was dividing up the pieces of shard into individual tea cups”

“That just wasn’t what I pictured her husband to look like, well done.”

“I really should to move on, but you know I am vested now.” ( One spouse referring to another)

“This coffee table, did you know that it really isn’t here?”

“Wait. Does this movie have any farting references? If not, I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“Really? I prefer to only frequent topless beaches.”

“Yes, children do say the darndest things. I totally feel that orgasms should be completely explained if they ask.”

“Existentialism and bouncing neutrons, now there is something I can wrap my head around.”

“This is making my brain hurt.”

Nothing says Seasons Greetings like intelligent discussions fueled with spirits.

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Animals are Really People in Disguise - TGIF

WHAT PART OF QUIET DIDN'T YOU UNDERSTAND??



EVERYONE NEEDS TO FEEL SECURE....



COULDN'T HELP IT MA, THAT FIRST STEP IS A KILLER..



NOW WHAT DO I DO???



MAN...I'M GETTING SO FAT I CAN HARDLY SCRATCH MY OWN BUTT!!



THESE MORNING WALKS ARE KILLING ME!!!!



WE IS FRIENDS......



HAVE YOU SMILED TODAY?????





Enjoy the weekend everyone. Don't let the Holidays stress you out too much!!

The End of the World as We Know It

Yes friends, the DC Metro area is expecting a “wintry mix” starting later this morning and lasting through the afternoon/evening rush hour.

For those of you who had to rush to the grocery store for the wimpy snow fall we had last week depleting the area of milk, bread and toilet paper, I would like to ask that you refrain from leaving your homes. You should be entirely stocked and really if you can’t handle just snow you will not be able to handle snow, then sleet followed by rain. Followed by who knows what else.

You will thank me later.

I thank you in advance.

Tis the Season to Stop Engaging your Brain

Last night I took my dog into the Vet for his routine blood work. This was a scheduled visit with a Vet technician. Our goal was to draw some blood, figure out if the values were within the correct limits and refill a couple prescriptions.

One of the blood tests could not be preformed because Dexter’s prescription ran out 24 hours prior. I should have known better, but I too am guilty of disengaging my brain this Holiday Season. The Vet technician returns Dexter to me and we have the following exchange:

Vet Tech (VT): We couldn’t do the thyroid test because his last dose was over 24 hours ago.
Wicked: No problem, if you’ll give me some more medicine, I’ll bring him back for the test.
VT: We can’t.
Wicked: Why not?
VT: We can’t give him the medicine until we do the blood work.
Wicked: We are at an impasse then because if I don’t have the medicine to give to him the blood work won’t get done.
VT: Right.
Wicked: (trying to keep my cool because amongst all this we have a lab puppy whimpering loudly, a shepherd puppy barking even louder and a lap dog snorting uncontrollably. A cacophony of reverberating sound) May I speak to the Vet please?
VT: Okay
Vet: I don’t want to give out a full prescription until we know the lab results.
Wicked: Which we can’t do unless he continues with the medicine.
Vet: Right.
Wicked: Do you people have SAMPLES????
Vet: Oh! Of course, I’ll bring them right out.

So my advice to all of you is to engage your brain or simply do not go out in public right now.

Barbie Dolls, Limited Edition for Northern Virginia

Mattel recently announced the release of Limited-Edition NoVa dolls for
the Northern Virginia market:

McLean Barbie: This princess Barbie is only sold at
Neiman's in Tyson's II. She comes with an assortment of Kate Spade handbags, a Lexus SUV; a long-haired dog named Honey, and a cookie-cutter house. Available with or without tummy tuck and face lift. Workaholic Ken sold only in conjunction with "augmented" version.

Falls Church Barbie: This modern-day homemaker Barbie is available with Ford Windstar minivan and matching gym outfit. She gets lost easily and has no full time occupation or secondary education. Traffic-jamming cell phone included, headset sold separately.

Manassas Barbie: This recently paroled former "Porn
Actress" Barbie comes with a 9mm handgun, a Ray Lewis knife, a Chevy with dark tinted windows, and a meth lab kit. This model is only available after dark and can only be paid for in cash; preferably small, untraceable bills. Unless you are a cop, then we don't know what you are talking about.

Great Falls Barbie: This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of BMW convertible or Hummer H2. Included are her own Starbucks cup, credit card, and country club membership. Also available for this set are Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper. You won't be able to afford any of them.

Reston Barbie: This former Dot Com Barbie cashed in
her options before the bust and now "works from home doing freelance
consulting" until the kids get older. She comes with a huge house on a tiny lot, and she channels her formidable energy and intellect managing the extensive social and athletic activities of her three kids, each of whom plays two sports, takes piano and karate, and is on the chess club. A member of the PTA, this Barbie is famous for running her daughter's Brownie troop like a Fortune 500 company ("Do we really have a solid ROI on Girl Scout cookies?"). Her greatest personal accomplishment this year was outmaneuvering the other uber-mommies to be selected as Room Mother for her son's second-grade class. She comes with AOL Ken, accessorized with a Porsche, giant gas grill, and flat-screen TV equipped with Tivo.

Woodbridge Barbie: This pale model comes dressed in
her own Wrangler jeans two sizes too small, a NASCAR shirt, and
Tweety Bird tattoo on her shoulder. She has a six-pack of Coors Light and a Hank Williams, Jr. CD set. She can spit over 5 feet and kick mullet-haired Ken's ass when she is drunk. Purchase her pickup truck separately and get a Confederate flag bumper sticker absolutely free.

Sterling Barbie: This collagen-injected, rhino plastic Barbie wears a leopard print bikini outfit and drinks cosmopolitans while entertaining friends at the McMansion. There is also a Percocet prescription available.

Leesburg Barbie: This tobacco chewing, brassy-haired
Barbie has a pair of her own high-heeled sandals with one broken heel
from the time she chased Beer-Gut Ken out of Fontana Barbie's house.
Her ensemble includes low-rise acid-washed jeans, fake fingernails, and a see-through halter top. Available with a mobile home.

North Arlington Barbie: This doll is made of actual
tofu. She has long straight brown hair, arch less feet, hairy armpits,
no makeup, and Birkenstocks with white socks. She prefers that you
call her "Willow". She does not want or need a Ken doll, but if you
purchase two North Arlington Barbie's and the optional Subaru wagon,
you get a rainbow flag sticker for free.

South Arlington Barbie: This Spanish-speaking-only
Barbie comes with a 1984 Toyota with expired temporary plates and three
back seats, but no car seats. The optional Ken doll comes with a paint-bucket lunch pail and is missing three fingers on his left hand. Green cards are not available for South Arlington Barbie or Ken.

Best Christmas Gift Received So Far. Probably EVER

I know, I should not have opened my present before the big day. There was no indication on the package requiring me to wait, so there.

My very good friend , HFS, as usual pays attention. I received a great card with HFS Jr.’s school picture which already has a prized spot on the refrigerator gallery. The package contained a t-shirt with conceivably the most apropos statement: “Let me drop everything and work on your problem.”

Considering the new leaf I have turned over, the t-shirt could not have shown up at a better time. I have decided to wear it under everything and when the situation is right, reveal the message to the defeatists of the world.

Thank you HFS!

Yes Blogosphere, There is a Santa Claus

I took a Mental Health Day from work today to begin my holiday shopping. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to announce that my shopping excursion was completed in record time and with no injured or otherwise traumatized individuals.

We will celebrate this day next year. I began and finished in 2.5 hours. Let the festivities begin!!

Happy Holidays....

Snowy Conversations from the Past

Scenario: Working in East Jesus NC where snow is a rare occurrence. Running 5 medical facilities with about 50 staff.

Group of Excited Locals (GOEL): Wicked!!! It is snowing!!
Wicked: Indeed, it’s very pretty.
GOEL: We need to go home early.
Wicked: It just started, let’s see what happens. It’s still melting as it hits the ground.
GOEL: But you don’t understand, we need to make snow cream.
Wicked: Excuse me. What is snow cream?
GOEL: You aint from around here, are you?
Wicked: Nope.
GOEL: Snow cream, is ice cream made with snow. Only you don’t make it from the first snow fall.
Wicked: (Knowing I probably don’t want to know but I ask anyway) Really, why is that?
GOEL: Because the first snow is polluted, it’s dirty.
Wicked: Okay. But you know the snow falls through the same atmosphere each time.
GOEL: But the first snow cleans the air of it’s pollution.
Wicked: Blink…..Blink, blink.

Sometimes I wish I was back where life was simple. Most times I don’t.

We just had our first snowfall of the season in the Metro Area. It could not have been more perfect. Just enough snow to make it pretty but not enough to snarl traffic.

Clever or Ignorant

We all have had to fill out medical questionnaires when visiting a medical establishment for the first time. They are pretty important tools for your provider. They are even better tools for the ancillary staff.

Today one of my co-workers was giggling uncontrollably as I walked by. Of course my curiosity got the best of me. There is a section on the questionnaire asking sexual orientation. One of our patients answered the section by stating very active. I asked the co-worker the age and occupation of the patient. I was trying to determine if they were being clever in an effort to give someone who reviews the document a chuckle. The patient was 34 and under the section regarding work history, he replied “lots.”

Alas, the patient wasn’t clever, just obtuse. At least he is having fun.

Selfish Countessa

It is a sad state affairs when you think you might need an impartial arbitrator to be able to decide on a group gift for your parents. For the love of all that is holy, the holidays seem to make most family situations less palatable.

I used to think Selfish Countessa’s ( a.k.a. younger sister) issues revolved around her longing to be “Sadie the Married Lady.” Well she recently celebrated her 1st anniversary and she is less tolerable now than before the nuptials.

I mentioned before that I am the middle daughter with two sisters, one eight years older the other 8 years younger. We basically missed the typical rivalry issues to due the age range. No complaints on that front. The dynamic we ended up with was a very strong bond between me and Brain Surgeon (my older sister) and a basic forbearance of Selfish Countessa.

It seems Countessa doesn’t understand that the pecking order traits need to be modified in adulthood. I feel I am a bit old to be reprimanded by my parents after she whines to them about some perceived injustice against her Highness.

I have the unenviable task of setting up a meeting among the three of us so that we can, once and for all, iron out whatever issues we seem to have. It is not going to be pretty. First of all I need to find a location that is central to us all. Enough of me always bending to fit everyone else’s schedule. I have a life too. Finding said location will involve Selfish Countessa having to navigate the beltway. Did I mention she does not do the beltway. My feeling is we need to figure out why all the animosity. If we can repair the damage, wonderful. If not, so be it. I am not sure that one can change their ways as an adult. Selfish Countessa seems to have this sense of entitlement that is not warranted. Brain Surgeon has anger for deeds past, present and future. I admit to holding a few grudges for deeds past as well but have relegated myself to forge ahead.

Wish me/us luck. Hey Santa, if you are out there, throw us a bone. Would you?

A Reminder to the Sisterhood During this Season of Imbibing

When we girls drink too much:

We have absolutely no idea where our purse is.

We believe that dancing with our arms overhead and wiggling our butt while yelling “WOO-HOO”, is truly the sexiest dance move around.

In our last trip to pee, we realize that we now look more like a homeless hooker than the goddess we were just four hours ago.

We start crying and telling everyone we see that we love them soooo much.

We get extremely excited and jump up and down every time a new song plays because “OH MY GOD! I love this song.”

Our eyes just don’t seem to want to stay open on their own so we keep them half closed and think that it looks exotically sexy.

We take our shoes off because we believe it’s their fault that we’re having problems walking straight.

Nurturer Caretaker

Between Mr. & Mrs. Psychotic Hypocritical Jesus Freakazoids, Desperately Seeking an Alimentary Canal, Mr. Emotionally Damaged with Waa Waa Black Sheep Have you any Wool Syndrome and now Flaming Ogress you’d think I would be broken of my habitual need to help others.

Actually truth be told, I think I may be on a hiatus for a while. My bleeding heart society is closed. When will it reopen? Not for a LONG time. Recently my Mom gave me some sage advice and I think it is about time I take it. I am now in the keep Wicked happy and all else is gravy mode. It remains to be seen how long I can stay on track. Although I know my family and close friends have signed affidavits that state they have permission to beat me about the head if I stray in the slightest.

Thank God for each and every one of them.

Do Be Do Be Doooooo

Overheard while on line for coffee:

“He’s crazy!”

“No he isn’t! He has the BEST hair!!!”

So all you guys out there, sounds like all you need is a good do these days. Although probably possessing the ability to do it good would seem more important.

Perhaps the key is be good doing it with the best do.

Thoughts, comments, suggestions?

Warm and Fuzzy…Not

My Dad, who is an accomplished psychiatrist, loves to use his trade’s labels on anyone he comes in contact with, not excluding family. I am here to assure everyone those 43 years of subliminal psychotherapy have their pros and cons. He had to try his methods out on someone, enter the middle kid. Hi! My name is Wicked H.

After a particularly trying time in my life, Dad told me that he hoped that I would never end up in any type of program that involved a 12 step recovery phase. You see, I don’t fall for that methodology. What gives me comfort is that I don’t currently have an addictive personality which might lead me down such a path. Knock on wood; of course one cannot predict the future, so far so good.

Recently at work, we had a training session which involved upgrading a computer system. Like most people, the staff does not like change. Nothing earth shattering but a definite change in the way information is processed. Basically if one was avoiding any contact with a computer, they would have a huge adjustment to the new system. The trainer, a very upbeat cheer-leaderesque person, handed out a “goodie” bag at the end of the session.

It did not do much for me in the way of motivation but I thought I’d share it with you:

The contents of this bag are to assist you in the great interactions you have with people everyday. You should always be reminded how great you are and all the great things you do!

Rubber Band – A reminder to stay flexible.
Paper Clip – To help you hold things together.
Eraser – To remind you everyday is a clean slate.
Kiss – To remind you we all need hugs and kisses.
Candle – To remind you to share the light with others.
Band Aid – For healing hurt feelings.
Smile Sticker – Smiles increase the face value. It’s outrageous!
Mesh Sponge – For the rough road ahead – seek support of family.
Sweet and Sour Candy – To help accept and appreciate the difference in others.
Lifesaver – To remind you of the many times others need our help and that you need theirs.
Ice Cube – To keep your cool.

As I looked around the room, I saw that may 45% of the group saw the value in this prize. Me? I took out the chocolate, hard candy and the mesh sponge and threw the rest away.

Just for shits and giggles, I showed the handout to my Dad. After he finished reading it he asked how long it took me to trash it.

The man knows his stuff.

Post Prandial Playback

Due to missing the usual key apparatus for turkey prep, we punted and went with open roasting of the bird with a pesto rub. If I must say so myself, it was fantabulous. The rest of the meal was scrumptious as well and just enough food not the usual over abundance that none of us needs. Also the 2 pies that the B-I-L slaved over ( stood in the ugly pre-thanksgiving purchasing free-for-all at Costco) were equally yummy.

Younger Sis (YS) did indeed bring an entire dessert. There must have been a meteor shower causing the world to rotate backwards on it’s axis. Later, I realized that is was some sort of peace offering for the delayed return of a teaching skull. An entire post could be devoted to the skull debacle, but I truly don’t want to relive it. Bottom line, YS will never change and me and BS need to get over it. Our parents will always take her side on such matters and play the “we are going to die with one eye open” card. So be it. If there wasn’t at least one family squabble, then it wouldn’t have been a true family gathering.

Best pre-meal moment happened during my task of making sure all the side dishes were warmed to perfection while BS was operating on the bird. I made the fatal error of placing the gravy ( the only item not made from scratch - shameful I know) into the fancy schmancy gravy boat. My dilemma was could I put it into the oven after warming it in the microwave? Because I am now bespectacled and can no longer read the fine print on the bottom of said boat and BS’s eyes are even worse that mine, Little Mermaid to the rescue. We held up the gravy boat over her head so she could read what was underneath for us. Of course, the writing was upside down for the first try and then the boat was moving around too much from my hysterical laughter for Mermaid to be able to read it. Crisis averted, it was microwave safe only.

All in all it was a great Thanksgiving. With my family around me and all in relatively good health, we all had many blessings to count.

To all of you who are wacky enough to brave the whole “Black Friday” shopping bullshit. Well all I can say is God love you because someone should. Bring on the Holiday season stressors.

Thankful For:

Arriving late to work and seeing that the spot I usually park in was left empty for me. Seriously, that was a very lovely surprise. It does not take much to make me happy

Over the Potomac and Through DC to Brain Surgeon’s House We Go

Since my mom had her heart attack it’s become tradition to gather at BS’s house for Thanksgiving. We are going on three years now. The typical routine is for me to show up early on Turkey day after I have dropped Dexter off at his Grandparent’s house.

I have actually enjoyed this new tradition, it gives my Mom a break and it makes for great bonding moments for BS, Little Mermaid and I. B-I-L is usually watching football games and giving us backseat suggestions for the menu. We are accomplished cooks/chefs if I must say so myself. What’s on the menu? The traditional stuff with our usual twist. YS will be spending Turkey day with her M-I-L. She usually shows up for dessert. We have a bet going to see if she will bring a half eaten pie or cake.

Also this year I want to see how much money Little Mermaid will earn. You see, so far we have had to bribe her with cash to ingest any type of vegetable. Such the entrepreneur that kid (I am secretly proud of that particular character trait). She is probably a closet vegetarian but is counting on the cash for her visits to the Limited Too. (The love of shopping gene was not passed on by me)

Hopefully we can all be on our best behavior, remember why we are gathered and be thankful of all we have and that the family is for the most part healthy and happy.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

Cleaning House

I am the first to admit that I am not perfect. Never have been and probably never will be. Perfect is boring. That is my story and I am sticking to it.

That being said, I do have a few character traits that for the most part have been tamed. Until recently, I have done really well controlling my 2 worst deeds. They are impatience and beating dead horses. To be completely honest, these 2 demons come out only when I become severely agitated. It’s not pretty, I concede.

The next 48 hours will be quite difficult for the recipient of my wrath. Once this hurdle is surpassed, I will be able to move on. Will it cure me of impatience and the beating of dead horses? Not completely. It will be the catharsis needed to forge ahead.

Bespectacled Flux

This being my first foray into the four-eyed world, I am having a difficult go of it.

For the record I am not imbibing, although it sounds like an excellent idea right about now. I cannot seem to navigate any type of movement with the goggles in place. I thought life through the looking glass was supposed to be clear and unencumbered. Instead I possess the gait of Foster Brooks.

This just in, I am only supposed to wear the damn things while securely seated in front of the computer and working.

I am off to see the Wizard for a brain.

Note to Self

When attempting to have witty repartee with someone, make sure that they are both witty and capable of repartee. Otherwise you will be faced with a situation where too much information is exchanged.

Case in point: I know a young man who has dread locks alternately every 2 days. Today, in passing, I jokingly asked him if he was an impatient man. He didn’t understand my question. I remarked that I wouldn’t have the patience to have my hair braided every 2 days. What followed was the following tangent, very seriously delivered:

Dread Lock Man (DLM): I used to be a barber.

Wicked H: Okay.

DLM: And many barbers do not clean their shears. I have seen many men end up with nasty bumps at their base of their necks. You know dermatology bumps.

Wicked H: Blink, blink.

DLM: So I will never cut my hair again.

Wicked H: …….

DLM: I saw one man with a third head on the back of his neck. And that is NASTY!

Wicked H: So you have your hair braided one day and then undone the next because?

DLM: I don’t want a third head on my neck.

Wicked H: I’m glad you cleared that up.

I’m sorry I asked. Next time I will make sure the conversation will be at a level we both can enjoy. Helpful Hints from Wicked H.

Dear Aimless Mumbling Blowhard:

I warned you. Did you listen?

Do you think the Acme School of Business, where you received your MBA, would give you a refund? Oh, you didn’t think your employers would eventually find out that your “MBA” came from a school that advertises on matchbook covers?

GWU called. They have obliterated any record of your attendance. You have seriously tarnished the reputation of their Allied Health program. Tsk, tsk.

So how do you like being a grunt? How about the hospital staff questioning every order you issue? Isn’t that a hoot? You did such an upstanding job hiding in your office for the past 2 years grooming your overgrown ear hair that none of the ancillary hospital staff has a remote clue as to your existence or function. Come to think of it, it is one of your voluminous flaws. How about those 13.5 hour long shifts. Are your perfectly ironed chinos in a wad?

Wasn’t it hilarious to find that your office is now a storage room? Bet that was a proud moment for you. How about when you entered the room of the Chief to find out that you were stripped of your duties. DEMOTED. Admit it, that had to hurt.

Karma is a bitch.

This Post Is Not Meant to Offend Cat Lovers

My name is Wicked and I am a dog lover.....

You Know You Love Dogs When:

You have a kiddie wading pool in the yard, but no small children.

You have baby gates permanently installed at strategic places around
the house, but no babies.

The trash basket is more or less permanently installed in the
kitchen sink, to keep the dog out of it while you're at work.

You can't see out the passenger side of the windshield because there
are nose-prints all over the inside.

You refer to yourselves as Mommy and Daddy.

Your dog sleeps with you( for the record on the floor around the perimeter of the bed).

You have 32 different names for your dog. Most make no sense, but
he understands.

You like people who like your dog. You despise people who don't.

You carry dog biscuits in your purse or pocket at all times.

You talk about your dog the way other people talk about their kid.

You sign and send birthday/anniversary/Christmas cards from your
dog.

You go to the pet supply store every Saturday because it's one of
the very few places that lets you bring your dog inside, and your dog loves
to go with you.

You open your purse, and that big bunch of baggies you use for
pick-ups pops out.

You get an extra-long hose on your shower-massage just so you can use it to wash your dog in the tub, without making the dog sit hip-deep in
water.

You don't think it's the least bit strange to stand in the back yard
yelling, "Google, pee!" over and over again, while Google tends to play and
forget what he's out there for (but what your neighbors think of your
behavior is yet another story).

You and the dog come down with something like flu on the same day.
Your dog sees the vet while you settle for an over-the-counter remedy from
the drugstore.

Have I missed any?

Ice Breaker or Stupid Question?

I went to my get my oil changed today with the Jiffy Lube Team. As I got out of my vehicle, the guy who confirms the information on the computer looked at the “I Voted” sticker on my chest.

Jiffy Lube Guy (JLG): Did you vote today?

Wicked H: Nope.

JLG: (Blank stare followed by rapid blinking)

I believe one should have fun while running errands. Of course with my luck, the transmission may fall out when I go over a pothole.

Pot Luck Etiquette

I have a question for the masses.

If you are invited to a family pot luck brunch and you are acutely aware of the number to be present, shouldn’t your dish be plentiful enough for those in attendance? Similarly, shouldn’t you simply leave the 12 pieces of peanut butter brownies at the hosts home upon your departure?

Perhaps my expectations are too high. Or the offender is a) out to lunch, b) her elevator does not reach the penthouse, c) she somehow got switched in the nursery before being brought home or d) all of the above.

Whatever!

Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right…

Every month, I am surrounded by otherwise seemingly intelligent, functional individuals whose brain synapses cease-fire for 5 days. You can set your watch by it.

Is it the stress of reaching a deadline? They really don’t act as if they even care about the freaking deadline. Could they be fooling the rest of us the remaining 25 days of the month? Anything is possible. Do they act this way to simply drive me batty? Even though I may not show it on the outside, that is truly the result of these brain farts. And they are the smelly kind.

This process takes place 12 times a year. We have been performing it for four years now. If anyone of you has any ideas as to how I can motivate the troops to not freak out at the end of each month, I am open to all suggestions.

On my way to purchase spectacles I think I might also pick up a wig. You know, to hide these bald spots created by me pulling my hair out.

I Can See Clearly Now

Right after I get out of denial and purchase my first ever pair of eyeglasses. Myopia with a side of bifocals. Joy!

I have found as I age, I am choosing physicians who are exponentially younger than me. Not sure exactly why this phenomenon is occurring. Perhaps because I find that the younger Docs have a better sense of humor. If I need specialists, they better have a personality. Dammit!

My Ophthalmologist could not have been older than 30, if that. She had a very good bedside manner. We had an interesting exchange:

Eye-Doc: Due to your age, I am going to use this torture device to measure the amount of tears your eyes produce. ( She actually shoved two pieces of graduated cardboard into each lid)

Wicked H: Only if I can shove them into your eyes too. ( Funny how quickly she left the room after inserting said devices)

Eye-Doc: Hmmm. Looks like we won’t have to perform punctal implants, the moisture level in your eyes is satisfactory.

Wicked H: Darn. No sympathy for me when I get back to work.

Eye-Doc: No need to worry, I’ve numbed your eyes. The drops should only sting a little bit.

Wicked H: Do you all still use cocaine to numb the eyes?

Eye-Doc: Not anymore.

Wicked H: Bummer. I guess I’ll have to score on my way back to the office then.

She left the room laughing and I left the office with a prescription to become bespectacled.

Which One Of These Is Not Like The Others?

Happy Halloween!

Trip Without Luggage

This morning during our walk, Dexter, my 12 year old golden, proved to me that he is still very young at heart. Lately during his morning constitutional he is only able to saunter around the neighborhood. It comes with age. I have accepted that.

Today we had excitement. For some reason, I changed the schedule around a bit and we took our walk after I had gotten ready for work. My plan was to have our walk then off to work I’d go. Dexter decided to also change our routine. As he rounded the corner he encountered the neighborhood bunny. Today he decided chasing it was in order. The bunny was 18 feet away. How do I know this you may inquire? His leash is exactly 16 feet. When he reached his limit of 16 feet, he turned on the power and succeeded in nipping the bunny in the tail and knocking me down. In the process dragging me 2 feet in the dewy morning grass.

I am extremely proud of my furry kid. However, I would have preferred he perform this feat while I was still in my non-work clothes. Dexter still has it. Now I need to go and remove the blades of grass that are stuck in my teeth and change clothes.

Pasta and Puccini

I found a great way to keep the youngsters away from my office, thus enabling me to be more productive. Play my classical tunes loudly. They claim their ears will bleed if they listen too long.

I will definitely keep this tool handy. Now if you will excuse me, Beethoven is calling my name.

THAT’S What I’m Talking About

Go Redskins GO!!!

Welcome back Levar. We’ve missed you.

Most points scored by the Skins in I don’t know how many years. ( 1999 maybe?)

Offense and Defense jellin.

Boo-Yah!

Hilarity Ensues

Family gatherings bring out the questionable best, especially with my tribe. October is a very busy celebratory month for us. We have four birthdays and my parent’s wedding anniversary to commemorate. Due to various and sundry schedule snafus we have decided to gather together this Saturday night and rejoice.

It took an entire month to decide on which date we would amass. In my defense, I have the clearest schedule and I defer to those with busy social calendars. Also, I made sure that my sister, the brain surgeon, and I who have a birthday a week and eight years apart did celebrate at the correct time.

Another few weeks passed before a destination could be decided. Finally I asked the younger sister to make a reservation and then send out an e-mail to all parties because we can’t seem to pass along information without details either getting skewed or left out entirely.

Let the grumbling begin:

B-I-L: Who let YS decide where we were going to eat?

Wicked H: She didn’t, BS and I decided.

B-I-L: Well I don’t like that restaurant.

Wicked H: Have you ever been?

B-I-L: No.

Wicked H: Then how do you know you don’t like it?

My Mom: Oh…I have aches and pains. Woe is me.

Wicked H: Does that mean you don’t want to go out to dinner then?

Mom: No, just reminding everyone of my aches and pains.

Dad: Did we find a place where the entrees start at $6.00?

Wicked H: You have fun at McDonald’s Dad, we are going to the restaurant.

Brain Surgeon: Ugh! I am tried of all the whining and bitching. I’ll be at the restaurant, whoever wants to come can and the others can do what they want.

So, hope you all have half as much fun as we might. I am open to any other offer from anyone of you. Someone, please, make me an offer!!!!

Because I Have the Giggles...

Confucius say:

He who eats jelly beans, fart in technicolor

Everyone has a photographic memory, some people just don't have film

Man who eat crackers in bed wake up feeling crummy

Two wrongs not make right, but two rights make U-turn

If you not pay your exorcist, you get repossessed

Best I can do first day back from vacation, drowning in work.

Abreaction

They are a contingent. Inseparable. Intrusive as the day is long. You can make many postulates and judgements in a 24-hour period. It’s a full time job for the quartet. It has to be exhausting. They are nothing if not punctual. If you don’t carry a time piece, it won’t be needed in their vicinity.

From the outside, it seems ineffectual, boring. Not for this assemblage. They thrive for the knowledge the rest of us could care less about. Maybe the rest of us have lives, other remunerative items to sustain us.


Carry on sad souls. Conceivably one day the tides will change and your days will pass more exuberantly. Perchance effectually.

Perhaps not.....

Tympany With Taps

If you love classical music and you are a fan of Savion Glover, may I suggest you catch his show “Classical Savion.”

Ninety minutes of classical arrangements complete with rhythmic tap interpretation by Mr. Glover. I didn’t believe the pieces could have been enhanced by his tap dancing but I was definitely wrong. It was nothing less than brilliance. What made the evening even more special was the venue, one I had never visited before tonight, and the company of Little Mermaid and Brain Surgeon.

Happy belated birthday Mermaid and Brain Surgeon. I am kind of glad we didn’t get to celebrate until tonight. I don’t think it could have been any better.

I urge you to catch this show. It was amazing!

The Art of the Deal

This morning, I was privy to an area of life that I will never experience on my own. It wasn’t part of my destiny. Thankfully I can learn and grow from these deal makers.

In the span of 45 minutes I witnessed complicated debates, compromises, clenched threats and intricate deals spun like Charlotte’s web. It was amazing. Nay mesmerizing. Where was I? The Hill? A courtroom? No. I was shopping for shoes at DSW Warehouse.

In the time it took me to try on and purchase five pairs ( who knew I could be a shopper?) of shoes, the toddler brigade of Northern Virginia tested their respective mother’s within inches of their precious lives. Did you know that a 2.5-year-old little boy can make excellent use of the wadded up pieces of tissue paper that annoys the shoe shopping public? Indeed. Charlie was quite industrious. He turned them into badminton birds and used the molded pieces of plastic (equally irritating) as his and little Eddie’s racquets. Their net was one of the many low rows of shoes, DSW’s trademark layout. Cecilia, who was getting an early start of her disdain for wadded up tissue paper, decided to shred them all into various heaps throughout the store. Joey, stroller-bound literally, was practicing untying and hurling his shoes at his mother. In his defense, he was simply imitating his mom. I mean really.

While I was checking out, I watched the following negotiations:

Charlie: Sentenced to 15 minutes of time out after forfeiting the game and cleaning up his mess.

Little Eddie: Incriminated in the makeshift badminton tourney, lost his trip to McDonald’s.

Cecilia: Guilty of littering, was told that her afternoon play date would be cancelled unless she cease and desist immediately. I watched her also grab a few of the badminton birds left behind by Charlie and Lil Eddie.

Joey: Asked by his mother if he saw anyone else having shoe tantrums? His response was to hit her square in the head with his other shoe.

All this reminded me why I despise shopping. It also gave me a better understanding of the whole Mother’s Day Out schematic. If these ladies can’t get their short reprieves, I am not sure that today’s toddlers would make it into adulthood.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

I saw this sign posted at a place of employment attached to the time clock:

“No Smoking Within the Time Clock!”

Hmmm. Unless this group has an ability to shrink themselves and gain access to the innards of said time clock, I really don’t see it as an issue.

Odd.

Any thoughts?

Daintily Dangerous

My older sister attended most of her high school dances. You know the formal ones. She was quite the social butterfly.

This tale is about her first home coming dance. You know I am not a fashionista in any sense of the word so I cannot remember what she wore. I do however remember that her date wore a baby blue tuxedo complete with matching ruffled shirt. I remember this because I had to palpate the shirt, it was that foreign to me. Her date was fun for me even before it started. My father kept asking my sister the name of her date so that he could greet the young man properly as he answered the door. Thirty minutes before Jeff arrived, my father kept repeating his name. My guess was he didn’t want to embarrass my sister or himself once he arrived. Even as he was walking toward the door, he asked one last time. In unison, my sister and I said Jeff.

“Phillip, how wonderful to see you” my father said as he shook the young man’s hand. I also remember my sisters audible groan. Top that off with me massaging the ruffled shirt, I am sure she couldn’t wait to get her date started. Off to dinner and dancing they went. Her curfew was reviewed several times in the few minutes it took them to rush out the door.

Later when she returned, mom and I were waiting in her bedroom. We wanted all the details! The ones she would share. It was odd that she never mentioned how dinner was she jumped right into the details of the dance. Finally, mom asked her about dinner. My sister turned the deepest shade of red. She quickly said it was fine and started to get ready for bed. Mom kept inquiring and my sister eventually told us what happened at dinner.

It turns out that in her attempt at being dainty while eating her salad, the date took a wrong turn. The cherry tomato that she bit in half while perched on her front teeth, made a very interesting pattern of juice and seeds on Jeff’s ruffled shirt. She said she was mortified. It took forever for him to return to the table and the stain did not look any better, in fact it was worse.

My sister was not amused by the amount of laughter emanating from my mom and me. She kicked us out of her room and slammed the door.

We have since referred to the story as attack of the killer cherry tomato.

Dear Northern Virginia Commuters:

We have been spoiled with a drought all summer and early Fall, that is no excuse to forget how to drive in the rain. Come on folks, we are better than the raindrops.

In case you have forgotten, let me give you a quick refresher course:

Traction is compromised when the roads are wet, keep some distance.

Jersey walls tend to have puddles at their bases. If you cannot compensate for that, choose an alternate lane to drive in.

Applying make up, reading the Post, programming your palm pilot are all unacceptable generally but FORBIDDEN in the rain.

These are but a few indiscretions that I witnessed while driving to work today. You have a full weekend of rain to practice your safe driving skills.

Make me proud!!

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

Sent to me via e-mail, always one to share.......

ACTUAL AUSTRALIAN COURT DOCKET 12659

A lady about 8 months pregnant got on a bus. She noticed the man opposite her was smiling at her. She immediately moved to another seat. This time the smile turned into a grin, so she moved again. The man seemed more amused, then on the fourth move, the man burst out laughing, she complained to the driver and he had the man arrested.

The case came up in court. The judge asked the man, who was about 20
years old, what he had to say for himself.

The man replied, "Well your Honor, it was like this: When the lady got on the bus, I couldn't help but notice her condition. She sat under a sign that said: "The Double Mint Twins are Coming" and I grinned. Then she moved and sat under a sign that said: "Logan's Liniment will reduce the swelling", and I had to smile! Then she placed herself under a deodorant sign that said, "Williams Big Stick Did the Trick", and I could hardly contain myself. BUT, your Honor, when she moved the fourth time and sat under a sign that said, "Goodyear Rubber could have prevented this Accident"? I just lost it."


CASE DISMISSED

Middle Ages

Today I am celebrating the 18th anniversary of my 25th birthday. You do the math. I already know the answer.

I am quite comfortable with the number. Once I hit 40, the numbers lost their daunting prowess. Of course when I was much younger, I imagined my life to be at a different stage by now. No matter, I have learned to go with the flow.

Other things I’ve learned:

*Simple pleasures are what make me tick, and I never take them for granted.

*I have no tolerance for drama or BS, for the most part I have eliminated them from my life.

*Any day that I have a conversation with my niece is a fantastic day.

*There are times that you don’t necessarily like each member of your family but you always love them.

I’ll leave you with a couple favorite birthday quotes:

To me, old age is always fifteen years older than I am.
- Bernard M. Baruch
Middle age is when you've met so many people that every new person you meet reminds you of someone else.
- Ogden Nash
A birthday is just the first day of another 365-day journey around the sun. Enjoy the trip!
- Unknown

How Not to Make Friends and Influence People

The other night I had to pick up my parents from Reagan National Airport. My Father didn’t want to inconvenience me, so he told me to just drive up to the arrivals sidewalk and they would hop into to the car.

There were several flaws with his suggestion. First of all they are 80 years old, there is no hopping into anything. Secondly, they were returning from overseas. The possibility of their flight arriving on time AND my Father predicting what time they’d be on the sidewalk was impossible. Thirdly, we are in the post 911 era. You can not casually keep circling the arrivals area without causing a ruckus.

I tried to be the dutiful daughter. After my third pass of the arrivals area, 2 of the officers actually blocked my passage and sternly suggested I utilize the parking garage and go in and wait for my parental units. I told them I completely agreed with their advice and off I went to park my car.

Take it from me friends, just don’t listen to your folks. Park the car and wait for them inside. It will save you much hassle.

Make It Stop

For some reason I have this French nursery rhyme stuck in my head.

Alouette

All: Alouette, gentille alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai.

Leader: Je te plumerai la tete
All: Je te plumerai la tete
Leader: Et la tete
All: Et la tete
Leader: Alouette
All: Alouette oh, oh, oh, oh Alouette, gentille alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai.

Leader: Je te plumerai les yeux.
All: Je te plumerai les yeux
Leader: Et les yeux
All: Et les yeux, et la tete
Leader: Alouette
All: Alouette oh, oh, oh, oh Alouette, gentille alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai

I learned it as a child while living in Montreal. I cannot get rid of it.

Oh well, there are worse things to get stuck on I suppose. I am happy to share.

Plop Plop, Fizz Fizz...

I used to transcribe medical dictation for a group of orthopedic surgeons. I enjoyed medical transcription. It could get quite tedious but it was a good learning tool.

The owner of the practice was notorious for his time management skills. He put them to good use while dictating. The good doctor would dictate everywhere. Among his favorite locations: while navigating traffic, during his lunch break while chewing his food and of course while on the toilet.

One day after transcribing for 6 hours straight, I got a little giddy and decided to relieve some stress. I transcribed the tape exactly as it was dictated. It took some doing, but I was able to type out every, honking horn, expletive, burp, slurp, fart and plop. Once I was done I passed it around to the other transcribers, we all had a good laugh and continued on with our tasks.

My fatal error was placing the non edited version of the patient note on the chart for the doctor’s review and signature. Needless to say, he was not amused. That was pretty much the end of my transcribing hijinks. You’d think someone that creative with his time would have had a better sense of humor. I always seem to learn the hard way.

Fixer Uper For Sale

I received this via e-mail, thought it was apropos:

BATON ROUGE, LA. - The White House announced today that President Bush has successfully sold the state of Louisiana back to the French at more than double its original selling price of $11,250,000.

"This is a bold step forward for America," said Bush. "And America will be stronger and better as a result. I stand here today in unity with French Prime Minister Jack Sharaq, who was so kind to accept my offer of Louisiana in exchange for 25 million dollars cash."

The state, ravaged by Hurricane Katrina, will cost hundreds of billions of dollars to rebuild.

"Jack understands full well that this one's a 'fixer upper,'" said Bush. "He and the French people are quite prepared to pump out all that water, and make Louisiana a decent place to live again. And they've got a lot of work to do. But Jack's assured me, if it's not right, they're going to fix it."

The move has been met with incredulity from the beleaguered residents of Louisiana.
"Shuba-pie!" said New Orleans resident Willis Babineaux. "Frafer-perly yum kom drabby sham!"

However, President Bush's decision has been widely lauded by Republicans.
"This is an unexpected but brilliant move by the President," said Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist. "Instead of spending billions and billions, and billions of dollars rebuilding the state of Louisiana, we've just made 25 million dollars in pure profit."

"This is indeed a smart move," commented Fox News analyst Brit Hume. "Not only have we stopped the flooding in our own budget, we've made money on the deal. Plus, when the god-awful French are done fixing it up, we can easily invade and take it back again."

The money gained from 'The Louisiana Refund' is expected to be immediately pumped into the rebuilding of Iraq.

Dear Door to Door Home Security Sales Woman:

Although you had no idea that I was home from work and very ill when you rang my doorbell repeatedly, you really should have picked up on the cues that I had no desire to speak to you about home security issues. Not at the time and while we are at it, EVER.

If I am not mistaken, you even had the gumption to mention to me that you thought I looked like wasn’t feeling well. Hello, freaking ding ding!! Then move along with your sales pitch lady. But no, you decided to ask me inane questions while my elderly dog was also bothered by your existence.

The whole scenario became quite satisfying to me when I learned later that you knocked on my neighbor's door immediately after mine while sobbing. You complained to the neighbor that I scared you and was rude to you. Poor baby.

For the record, if you choose to wear hot pants and attempt to present yourself as a respectable business person while annoying me, you are going to get your feelings hurt. If your goal was to allure the men of the households you were visiting with your bimbo get up, then may I suggest knocking on the neighborhood doors during the weekend when you might find more men at home.

Take your act somewhere else sister. If I decide to buy a home security system you better understand that it will not be from a scantily dressed chippie knocking on my door in the middle of a work day.

Dear Office Larcener:

At first I thought what you were doing had one purpose, to annoy your fellow staff. Now I realize that you have a serious problem.

There are many avenues still open to you if you would simply come forward, admit you have a problem, then we can get you the help you definitely need. The longer you continue on this spree, the uglier it will get for you. You know the drill, stop while you still have a fighting chance to use your monkey as a bargaining tool.

Forget that we have individuals walking around with prescribed controlled substances in their possession. Forget that those individuals really shouldn’t be on the clock while under the influence of said substances. Perhaps they are not. I surely hope not. All this does not negate the fact that you have turned our work place into an unsafe zone.

If it comes to drug testing your jig will be up in 24 hours. Then being unemployed will be the least of the evils you will endure.

I implore you, take the opportunity to turn yourself in and use the system to get the help before the addiction completely takes over. It can’t possibly be worth it. Unfortunately for you, I believe you don’t currently have the ability to see that far in the future.

Flatulence on a Budget

While sight seeing in Italy this summer, my B-I-L had one of his gastro-intestinal warnings. Not wanting to risk public humiliation in a foreign country, he did the clenched sprint to the nearest public restroom.

Turns out it costs 8 Euro to fart in Italy. Beats free sharting any day.

Color Me Surprised

The first place I ever rented was a gorgeous lake house. I was very fortunate in that the East Jesus, NC market was not really set up for rental property. I had driven to NC with the sole purpose of finding a place to live before I made the move. I spent an entire day being shown houses to buy even though I repeatedly told the real estate agent that purchasing a home was not on my agenda. I had just agreed to move to East Jesus because the physician I was working for decided to move his practice. I wasn’t sure if I’d even like small town living, I needed a rental. I promised him that once I was ready to buy a place, he’d be the agent I’d use.

We looked the lake house one hour before I was scheduled to get back on the road north. It had been on the market over a year. I told the agent how much I liked the location and to ask the owner if I could rent it for a year. The deal maker was the fact that I would pay one years rent in advance. It was a done deal.

Because the it was a weekend house for the owner he offered it to me furnished. This was a 3 bedroom house which was furnished in typical weekend get-away fashion. None of the furniture matched. Most likely the pieces were hand me downs. It gave the house character, I enjoyed the ambiance. The house over looked Lake Tillery and had a very beautiful 3 level deck. It was all very serene and cheap by northern standards.

When I moved my stuff in, I had to empty the bedroom on the first floor of it’s contents. The closet in that room contained a metal box. It reminded me of a strong box, one that you might keep important papers or items in. The weight of the box made me think it might have a gun in it. Since I was moving it from it’s original location to the basement and because it was not locked, I peeked inside.

To my surprise, I found a cornucopia of S&M supplies. Yes friends, hand cuffs, studded dog collar and a short whip. Also in the box a few videos to complete the package. No wonder my dream lake house was a bargain. It also doubled as the weekend den of inequity for the truck drivers of the owner.

The next day I had the locks changed and asked the owner to go ahead and remove the furnishings. I really did not want anything to do with any of the contents of the house after my discovery. The owner sent his drivers to the house to collect the furniture. The first item removed, by all three drivers in tandem, was the strong box. I guess the S&M supplies were back with their rightful owners.

Frankly, They Scared Me

I attended my first, and last, Majestic Epicurean gathering a couple of years ago. A good excuse to get the ladies out of the house for a sort of bonding ritual. I was one of a few single females in attendance, all else were either SAHMs or working professional moms. All very dynamic individuals, great conversationalists and seemingly quite intelligent women. Admittedly, I had little to nothing in common with most of them being a middle aged single female. I went along to see what all the fuss was about, this event was well planned complete with written invites. It captured my interest. I do enjoy tooling around the kitchen; a girl can’t have too many kitchen gadgets.

The party began with all of us crammed into the hostess’ sun room, heavenly scents wafting from the kitchen. The Majestic Epicurean Sales Woman of the Year had us sit in a semi-circle; easier for her to make eye contact with us all. She began by asking each of us if we were party regulars or a virgin attendee; if so what was the single most reason to return and if not, why not? After the 3rd woman tried desperately to outdo the previous woman’s answer, I knew this was not the right place for me. I had no idea this was to be a competition.For the love of Julia Child, they are only peddling kitchenware. When my turn came, I told the group that this was my first party and that I had no difficulty differentiating between baking and cooking. It was a serious dilemma posed by the sales woman and you’d be surprised how many of the participants actually gasped when I proclaimed my knowledge. How can you not know the difference between the two? Don’t get me started .

Next on the agenda was an exhibition of some of the new products and the top favorites. Followed by testimonials of how some of the items have completed the lives of those in attendance. Which surprised me since 75% of them previously admitted to knowing next to nothing about the kitchen in general.

The absolute best part of this party was when these seemingly composed women were falling all over each other to be able to participate in adding ingredients to whatever the hostess was preparing. It was set up as a demonstration; of course using each of the marvelous Majestic Epicurean tools to their maximum potential.

I am quite sure this is where the writers of the Stepford Wives got their material. Be afraid, very afraid.

TGIF - Joke for the Times

The man's wife demanded he take her somewhere expensive that night.

His solution? He took her to a gas station!

Lame? Maybe, but it made me laugh.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Crazy Busy

Work seems to be getting in my way. Just no time to be witty or creative. I’ll be back soon.

Thanks to those of you who have sent me notes to check up on my welfare. All is well, just swamped with work stuff. I hate it when works cuts into blogging time.

Talk amongst yourselves…….

Update on Little Mermaid’s Katrina Relief Effort

My niece decided that selling her items on Ebay would take too long. “People are dying,” she said. Instead she got up very early on Saturday morning, made dozens of bookmarks to be given to anyone who would donate to the cause and she packed the items on her wagon and went door to door in the neighborhood. She came away with $147.00 which her mother will match and send to the Red Cross.

We can all help, please find a way.

Every Little Bit Helps

It is unbelievable. I am having a difficult time trying to imagine what the survivors of Hurricane Katrina are facing. It is unfathomable. My thoughts, prayers and any other type of help I can come up with continues.

I am sure by now most of us had made some type of donation to the various agencies seeking assistance for the fine folks of the Southeast. Last night I was speaking with my sister who told me that my 10-year-old niece decided that the old toys that she had set aside to donate to the children of Appalachia would be better served if contributed to Hurricane Katrina’s relief effort. She asked my sister if she could sell them on Ebay and then donate the money to the cause. It may seem like a paltry amount of money but the love behind is immeasurable. I am very proud of my niece for contributing to the cause.

We can all so something.

Bow Wow Wow Wow Yippee Oh Yippee Yay

Somehow I have become the resident expert on dog care and training. I am on constant call 24/7 for the needs of Little Mermaid, my 10-year-old niece, and her parents.

You see they have added Google, a 4-month-old golden-doodle, to their family. Do they collectively have any knowledge on dog care? Not so much. That is what family and friends who are current dog owners are for, right? I have given my B-I-L ( brother-in-law) many pointers on house breaking and other general tips. B-I-L is a stay at home Dad so he has the most contact with Google. So far, B-I-L has not taken my advice and tried a few things on his own, only to be corrected by the dog trainer they now have on retainer. Imagine B-I-L’s surprise when the trainer gave him the same advice I did. Some lessons are learned the hard way.

Little Mermaid has not had much interaction with the male species, human or canine. What I am trying to explain is that she has little to no knowledge of the male anatomy, human or canine. The first time Google got “excited,” Mermaid alerted her mother to the fact and asked what was going on? Since her mom is in the medical field, she decided to take the blunt approach to the quandary.

LM(Little Mermaid): Mom! There is something wrong with Google! Something is sticking out! What is it?

BS(Brain Surgeon a.k.a. her Mom): Oh? Well.....don’t worry about it. He is fine.

LM: We need to take him to the Vet! IT is not right. I have not seen this before!

BS: (fidgeting by now, quite uncomfortable with this topic in general; human or canine)Well Mermaid, he is really fine. He has an erection.

LM: An infection?

BS: YES! But not to worry, it will come and go by itself, just leave it alone.

LM: Oh. Are you sure?

BS: I promise, it is normal for him to have it.

BS was recanting this story to me via phone and I could not stop laughing. BS does not enjoy discussing this topic. BS tried to change the subject. Meanwhile, in the back ground I hear Little Mermaid announcing yet another infection that Google is encountering. Little Mermaid asks her Mom is there is some medicine that can be used?

BS: (Audibly groaning) No! He doesn’t need any medicine. STOP trying to touch it!!!!!!

LM: How come it keeps happening. Don’t infections get better, WITH medicine? I know. We can rub something on it.

BS: OH. MY. GOD. Don’t touch it. Just don’t!

My suggestion was to have her Dad explain the “infection” process. Just because Little Mermaid is female doesn’t mean he should be excluded by such topics of conversation. This Aunt stuff is a piece of cake. Give all the advice and sit back and watch it all unfold.

Google, what a stud muffin! Tee hee!

Ladies, Sharpen Your Claws!

Jennifer's wedding day was fast approaching. Nothing could dampen her excitement - not even her parents' nasty divorce. Her mother had found the PERFECT dress to wear and would be the best dressed mother-of-the-bride ever!

A week later, Jennifer was horrified to learn that her father's new young wife had bought the exact same dress! Jennifer asked her to exchange it, but she refused. "Absolutely not. I look like a million bucks in this dress, and I'm wearing it," she replied.

Jennifer told her mother who graciously said, "Never mind sweetheart. I'll get another dress. After all, it's your special day." A few days later, they went shopping and did find another gorgeous dress.

When they stopped for lunch, Jennifer asked her mother, "Aren't you going to return the other dress? You really don't have another occasion where you could wear it."

Her mother just smiled and replied, "Of course I do, dear. I'm wearing it to the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding

Mary Quite Contrary

A bunch of us went out to lunch today. It’s a rarity and we always have an enjoyable time.

Today was no different. I work with a terrific bunch of people, each memorable in their own way. I would not trade them in for all the tea in China. A couple of us are picky when it comes to food. I am usually a go with the majority kind of gal. It’s food, nourishment for the body - no big deal. We actually broke a record deciding where we’d go and when we’d leave. Within 10 minutes, we assembled the group and off to Amphora we went.

It was amazing. Collectively we agreed to celebrate this occasion next year. Usually it takes over an hour to weed out all of the possibilities regarding food procurement.

There were seven of us today. We had the most energetic 80+ year-old server, Mary. She was a spitfire. We could not move fast enough for her, in fact I think we held her back. Bless her heart. She tried to be patient when one of us couldn’t decide what to order. I think Mary may have brow beaten my co-worker into placing the order. I am very sure Mary is the one who decided what my co-worker was going to ingest.

Mary was quite efficient when it came to refilling our drinks. I am telling you she was a blur of activity. Perhaps she was snorting some high test Geritol back in the kitchen. I am not here to judge, merely an observer. Mary was quite efficient when it came to refilling our drinks. Before I had even taken two sips from my diet coke, I had another one waiting for me. Mary’s annoying habit? Aw come on, you knew I was going to mention it. Mary did not like to keep a half-filled glass on the table. She would bring you a fresh drink and want you to transfer the straw into the new glass. If this wasn’t accomplished fast enough, Mary would take care of it for you.

A little quirky our Mary but her system got us in, fed and out of there during the lunch rush in less than 60 minutes. Believe me folks. That, in and of itself is a major feat in these parts. Truthfully, if Mary hadn’t spoken up “Kitty” would still be deciding what to order.

Dear Subpar Medical Professional Possessing an MBA:

Let me help you out for you are in dire need. First of all, how a prestigious institution of healing even hired any one of your mediocre medical abilities is truly astounding. I pray each and every night that if I end up in your infirmary you are not the one to take over my care. If I am conscious I will most certainly demand someone else or be transferred to another facility. Oh, but that would mean you actually perform some type of medicine while on duty. In that case, I need not worry. You are too busy trying to figure out how to cut and paste a schedule. Did you know monkeys can be trained to do that task? That would mean you have the intelligence to equal a monkey, we all know you do not.

Secondly, there are support groups and even trained professionals who can assist you with this paranoia problem. Seriously. I can set you up, all you need to do is ask for help. Of course that would mean you could string along a series of words in a coherent manner. Have you noticed that your co-workers are in a state of glazed indifference? It’s because you cannot form a sentence. Did you miss that day in MBA school? I am willing to bet you made straight “A”s on the section of passive aggressive annoyance. If I do some digging, I am almost sure that was the topic of your thesis.

Thirdly, you are in a hell of a mess. If you think your life is difficult now, you aint seen nothing yet. This is not a threat. It is a promise. You have irritated me by proxy for the LAST time. It’s no longer business. It’s personal. I honestly don’t think you understand the capacity of what is about to happen to you. I don’t care. If you poke the bee hive enough times, your ass will get stung.

Personally, I hope you have a vile allergic reaction.

Again, this is not a warning, rather a covenant.

Richie Rich

The specialty medical practice that I left in NC was staffed by three very fun and gifted physicians. These guys were most likely on the nerd squad while in high school complete with pocket protectors and calculators hanging from their belt loops. However, they blossomed into handsome, accomplished men. We are talking brilliance on a stick. These guys were triple Board Certified and that is no easy task. Besides all the intelligence we had humor. Can you imagine? Intelligence and wit all wrapped up in not one but three specialists. It’s rare, trust me.

This post is dedicated to Richie Rich. He looked exactly like that character. The first day at our practice, I asked if I could refer to him as Richie Rich and after I explained who he was, the doctor agreed. Did I mention that Richie Rich was all of 29 years old when he joined our practice? Doogie Howser’s cousin, easily. ( Yes, I had to explain to him who he was also)

These physicians had a super charming exterior which made the female drug dealers, a.k.a. pharmaceutical reps, flock to our practice. We came up with a system within the office to curtail the drug dealing visit. We’d give the physicians enough time to hear about all the bells and whistles of the new product for 15 minutes. If the drug dealer wasn’t wrapping it all up, we would page the physician’s beeper to move things along. At that point he would dismiss the drug dealer and move on with patient care.

Richie Rich seemed to have a bunch of groupies. It was comical. He also had a very controlling wife. She specifically dropped by my office one day to tell me to keep Richie focused and away from any drug dealers. This was a diminutive Asian/American woman but she intimidated the hell out of me, a lawyer by trade. I told her I would do my best.

Richie specifically enjoyed the attention and would have a difficult time sending the drug dealers away. It got to the point where he would ignore the page all together. He would set the parameters of the visit no matter how hard we tried to keep him on schedule. To his credit, he did make up the time by the end of each day and no patient was slighted in the least. Part of my job was to keep the whole process moving along with happy physicians and patients. If Richie wants to enjoy the attention, who am I to stop him. It was not my job to keep his wife happy.

Unfortunately, Richie got busted. On this particular day during a drug dealer visit by a particularly attractive rep, Mrs. Rich decided to make a surprise visit. I saw her pull into the parking lot and I immediately began paging Richie repeatedly. Once again, he ignored the pages. I even stuck my head into the nurses station where the encounters took place and he waved me off. I did what I could. The second Mrs. Rich entered the nurse’s station, Richie’s ears became beet red. He looked like a thermometer ready to explode. Mrs. Rich placed herself between Richie and the drug dealer and told her husband it was time for lunch. And she leads him away. Forget that we had four more patients waiting to be seen in the waiting room. I was not going to interrupt the impending domestic discourse between Dr. and Mrs. Richie Rich.

I did what any good administrator would do. I paged the other two physicians, found out which one could come to the office to see the remaining patients and our morning was complete. Of course between the rest of the staff and me, we made sure that the rescuing physician knew all the details so that Richie could be mercilessly berated.

Richie never ignored another page while in my tutelage.

A Little Snark with my Sundae

Back when I was in high school, you know MANY moons ago, the best cure for what ailed me was a sundae. This particular incident jumped to my fore-brain after reading someone’s post about the misbehavior of some children in restaurants.

I was enjoying my sundae with one of my friends, commiserating whichever event that brought us there in the first place. Some type of teenage angst, I don’t remember those details. While we were ingesting the sweetness, the two toddlers sitting in the booth behind me decided to reach over and get acquainted.

I have always loved children and still do. I don’t particularly care for some parents. Certainly not the parental units of these two offspring. The first time they reached over with their sticky hands and pulled my ponytail, it was admittedly cute. However, after five minutes of them playing with my hair with their ice cream-covered hands was quite enough and not even remotely amusing. A couple of times I turned around to look at the parents who were sitting side by side on the opposite side of the booth. I figured they would get the hint. I never heard either of them trying to correct the conduct of their bambinos. Not once!

As the family was leaving, they had to walk by our booth to exit the restaurant. I was expecting an apology of some kind. That is really all I needed, an acknowledgment that their kids had been discourteous. Again, nothing. Being the acerbic teen that I was, I made the following comment.

“ There is a good argument for birth control!”

If looks could kill, I would have been dead. Lucky for me they don’t.

Perseverance Pays Off

Or a message to parents: be careful what you promise.

Little Mermaid, my 10 year old niece, has hit pay dirt. Her parents promised she could get a dog if she got straight A’s. They should have made the stakes a bit higher because I knew she would have no problem achieving that goal.

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce you to Google. He is the newest member of the family. Cousin to Dexter and Homer and my Grand Nephew. He is a 3 month old golden-doodle and was aptly named by yours truly. I suggested the name Google for 2 reasons; his breed type and the fact that he was found via Internet.



Next to Dexter, he is the sweetest thing. Welcome to the family, Google!!!

Good luck with the scooping of the poop Little Mermaid. I think you might need to invest in some nose plugs. It would look kind of funny if you were retching while walking the Googster

First Date

If you didn't see this on the Tonight show, I hope you're sitting down when you read it. This is probably the funniest date story ever, first date or not!!!

We have all had bad dates.. but this takes the cake. This just tells you how tough it is to be single nowadays

This was on the "Tonight Show" with Jay Leno. Jay went into the audience to find the most embarrassing first date that a woman ever had. The winner described her worst first date experience. There was absolutely no question as to why her tale took the prize!

She said it was mid-winter... snowing and quite cold... and the guy had taken her skiing in the mountains outside Salt Lake City, Utah. It was a day trip (no overnight). They were strangers, after all, and truly had never met before. The outing was fun but relatively uneventful until they were headed home late that afternoon. They were driving back down the mountain, when she gradually began to realize that she should not have had that extra latte.

They were about an hour away from anywhere with a rest room and in the middle of no where! Her companion suggested she try to hold it, which she did for a while. Unfortunately, because of the heavy snow and slow going, there came apoint where she told him that he had better stop and let her pee beside the road, or it would be the front seat of his car. They stopped and she quickly crawled out beside the car, yanked her pants down and started. In the deep snow she didn't have good footing,so she let her butt rest against the rear fender to steady herself.

Her companion stood on the side of the car watching for traffic and indeed was a real gentleman and refrained from peeking. All she could think about was the relief she felt despite the rather embarrassing nature of the situation. Upon finishing however, she soon became aware of another sensation.

As she bent to pull up her pants, the young lady discovered her buttocks were firmly glued against the car's fender. Thoughts of tongues frozen to pump handles immediately came to mind as she attempted to disengage her flesh from the icy metal.

It was quickly apparent that she had a brand new problem due to the extreme cold. Horrified by her plight and yet aware of the humor of the moment, she answered her date's concerns about "what is taking so long" with a reply that indeed, she was "freezing her butt off and in need of some assistance!" He came around the car as she tried to cover herself with her sweater and then, as she looked imploringly into his eyes, he burst out laughing. She too, got the giggles and when they finally managed to compose themselves, they assessed her dilemma.

Obviously, as hysterical as the situation was, they also were faced with a real problem. Both agreed it would take something hot to free her chilly cheeks from the grip of the icy metal! Thinking about what had gotten her into the predicament in the first place, both quickly realizedthat there was only one way to get her free. So, as she looked the other way, her first-time date proceeded to unzip his pants and pee her butt off the fender.

As the audience screamed in laughter, she took the Tonight Show prize hands down... or perhaps that should be "pants down." ....And you thought your first date was embarrassing.

Jay Leno's comment .. "This gives a whole new meaning to being 'pissed off

Ooops, I Forgot

Exactly how does one forget to remove the home made pipe bomb from ones bag before going through airport security?

It’s bad enough we all have to worry about terrorists. Now we have to also worry about good ole yahoos. Why does someone make a pipe bomb just for fun anyway? Hello?? This is not the time to screw around with such things.

I’d like brain cells for a thousand, Alex……

E-V-O-O Yum Yum

Ever Vigilant Obnoxious Oaf

Effervescent Vastly Offensive Old-Maid

Exceedingly Vitally Oviparous Officiate

Oh. My. God.

I cannot stand the 30 Minute Meal Lady - Rachael Ray. Nobody can be that happy about food. Well maybe I could get THAT excited if I was racking in the big bucks for parading around like a cheerleader while preparing food in the kitchen.

Please, someone out there tell me that she also grates on your nerves like a micro plane zester. I am begging.

To her credit, she does make some good meals. But the perkiness. Make it stop. Also, is it so difficult to say extra virgin olive oil? What is this E-V-O-O crap?

The only way I can watch her is with the sound muted. I am not kidding.

Stimulus Overload

I may be one of they few around who has yet to own an Ipod. I am technologically constipated. I admit it. I am really ok with it. Half my problem with the lack of gadgetry is probably funding the other is interest. While driving I prefer to listen to the radio and/or one of the six CDs that rotate through the car’s stereo. None of that satellite radio business for me. I need to hear the local weather and traffic and if not that’s what God made the CD changer for. I exercise in the comfort of my home so music is readily available for that purpose. Maybe if I commuted to work via the subway it would make sense since I don’t like socializing while on public transportation. I might tell you I am blind or something - oh wait - I previously mentioned that, so you should already know. ( And if you are expecting me to link to that exact post, forget it. Technologically challenged)

All this brings me to the cookout we had at OS/B-I-L’s house. This is the home of the almost technologically savvy. Why almost? Well it is not for lack of owning most every new gadget on the market and sometimes more than one of each. Little Mermaid is obviously of the techno-generation. Her Mom, the brain surgeon and my OS, can pick stuff up if shown in the most expedient manner. She is good that way. Just never, EVER, mention Avogadro or his freaking number and you all will get along really well. B-I- L thinks he knows it all when it comes to gadgets, certainly knows more than myself, but I have never known anyone who can break as many computers as he has. Who knows, maybe that is his way of upgrading machinery and justifying the cost. If so, Bravo B-I-L. Of course this is the same man who did a triple gainer with a half twist over the handle bars of a moped/scooter on one of the many islands they have frequented. ( That’s all I am saying)

I arrived early to the cookout to help and came bearing an upbeat mixed CD that I burned myself. You don’t understand. This is an accomplishment for me. Because my B-I-L has an Ipod with however many giga some things it is armed with, he is always looking for more music to add to his collection. So I handed him the CD and told him to see if he would enjoy it, if so he could do whatever it is one does to get the tunes onto the Ipod. As luck would have it, just last week his Ipod crashed his computer so it has been sent to the Ipod doctor. He would download the tunes to his computer. Sounds easy enough, even I can do that. Off to his office he went. I and the brain surgeon are bonding in the kitchen. Little Mermaid is busily flicking her thumbs on yet another piece of technology that I probably could not even turn on.

B-I-L returns to the kitchen to play the CD on the intercom system so the whole house can hear the music. We also have some swim meet on television being broadcasted on the brand spanking new and humming flat screen 450 inch screen. ( Maybe its 45 inches, it’s damn big that’s all I know and for some reason it used to hum until a technician came out to sell them a high end cable. Now the old TV that is in the bedroom hums. I guess they couldn’t afford two high end cables - usually I just listen and don’t ask questions)

We also have the bleating of the pulsating food processor amongst the cacophony. Every 2-3 minutes, B-I-L will return to the kitchen, find a song on the CD and ask me title and artist. You see I broke rule number one of making a mixed CD. I did not make a table of contents for it so that he could easily list the songs onto his computer to be later loaded on the Ipod when it returns from the doctor. Who knew? I decided to utilize the services of Little Mermaid, every time the next song would come on I would tell her title and artist ( these were tunes from the 70's none she knew) and she would relay the info to her Dad who would be furiously tapping the data into his computer. We had a system, and it was working.

The only problem? After he successfully downloaded my CD onto his computer, his computer refused to acknowledge one of 3 different burners on his hard drive.

I think to be technologically ignorant works great for me. Fewer hassles in life.

Dear Newly Re-United Couple:

I can appreciate how you long for each other, actually I am a bit jealous.

I am so very happy for you, sincerely. However, the next time you need to reconcile a minor difference, could you take one giant step to the right?

I can't tell you how uncomfortable I felt while watching your scenario unfold right in front of my office window. I promise I was not trying to intrude but you were right in my line of site. I realize that my corner office is a huge perk. One I do not want to give up, but I don't know how long I can endure all this lovey dovey stuff. Really, my dentist makes enough from my treatments and so far I have avoided too many cavities. After today, I am not so sure. Either I'll need a bunch of fillings or an insulin pump installed.

May you be in love forever and ever, amen. Just please, not in front of my office.

All That AND a Bag of Chips

I have never been one to ogle material possessions. There is absolutely nothing wrong with owning the best of the best or flaunting your newest acquisition. However, if you are expecting me to oooh and ahh over it, then you are barking up the wrong tree. To me a vehicle is a mode of transportation. Sure a new one is great but it is a vehicle, that’s it. I don’t notice them, it’s not my thing. I am much more in tune with the type of person you are than the amount of money in your bank account or the number of endowments you own.

My YS (younger sister) was apparently quite upset with me because I did not stop to covet her new car. In my defense, I was just pulling out of my parent’s driveway and did not recognize the car that was pulling in and it had tinted windows. For all I knew it was a friend of my father so I continued on my way. No big deal, right? WRONG.

The YS is a piece of work anyway but she is also an adult and really should use those adult powers to resolve issues. If she was so disquieted by my actions, she should have picked up the phone and said so. Instead, she asked my father to call me and reprimand me about ignoring her. I reminded my father that I am 42 years old and she is 34. I respectfully asked him to back out of this entanglement and let her effectuate in the proper manner. Bless his heart, it did not sit well with him so to appease me we ended our conversation.

Imagine my surprise when a few days later she called to ask if she and her husband could visit me. Keep in mind that this is the same woman who could not be bothered to call or visit me while I was having major surgery last year. She asked if I was busy on Sunday and I told her come on over. Her response, great then we can show you the new car. I knew the visit had nothing to do with wanting to see me rather showing off the new chariot.

They arrived an hour and a half later than they said they would, typical of YS. I answered my door and YS was asking me if she and her husband parked in the right spot. He was still with the car. I told her they did a great job and proceeded back into my house. I believe I thwarted the first attempt to check out the new wheels.

We had a nice visit. We live a little over an hour away from each other, this might have been their first visit ever. I am usually expected to make the trek out to see family. There was no mention of the car during our sojourn. Finally after 2 hours of chit chat, I asked how the new car was working out for them. I have never seen 2 people so anxious to show off their wares. They shot up out of their seats and we all headed out to inspect the purchase. It was a car, a new one. I sat in the passenger seat for 10 seconds, told them it was real nice and to use it in good health. Then we went back into my house.

Ten minutes later, our visit was done. Their mission was accomplished, I saw and approved of the new car. WHATEVER!!!!!

Foraging for Food

I realize that trying to find a place to eat dinner on a Friday night that does not involve a period of waiting is next to impossible. What I wasn’t prepared for was the way in which the hostess announced the wait time. She told us that currently the average wait for a seat would be between 110 and 145 minutes. Um, excuse me?

I’d like to know who came up with this tactic. Some frustrated marketing major is my guess. I don’t know about any of you but I would have preferred to hear the next table will be available in an hour and a half to two hours. Calculating the precise number of minutes was not only mind boggling but it seemed like a much longer time frame. Bad call.

Luckily my friend and I sauntered over to the next eatery which was able to seat us in less than five minutes. In that case, the use of minutes was entirely acceptable. The food was great and the company even better. I have always been more interested in the company I keep versus the type of restaurant I dine in. Seriously, who waits two hours for a table when there is a plethora of restaurants in the vicinity.