It can't just be me. I'm in my car heading home from a trip to the grocery store to pick up whatever I forgot to buy yesterday and the song that pops up on my iPod is the very perfect song for that moment, matching my perfect inner soundtrack to the movie about my life starring Me. The camera pans in: Quirky Girl Driving with Purpose.
That moment makes everything feel great. I'm suddenly absolutely comfortable in my skin, pleased with my hair, my casualness, my age, my knowledge of the world (or lack thereof.) The day is beautiful, everything is so green and vibrant and it's the very best part of the weekend - Saturday afternoon with a nice dinner, a glass of wine and some prime TV watching to look forward to and the hard work, house cleaning and a bike ride, behind me.
The song is Johnny Appleseed by Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros. It's a really really good song - melodic and deeply cool with a fantastic crescendo. You are welcome to use it on your own soundtrack if you like. I don't mind.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
One more reason to be annoyed with China
I ordered some funny little jewelry finding on eBay from a seller in China. They were cheap and not something I've been able to find anywhere else, so yay for that. Except, I bought them in June and still haven't gotten them yet. I've been in contact with the seller, who, despite reassuring me that I'm her #1 most wonderful and favored customer, hasn't really been able to do anything aside from giving me a tracking number and telling me to go ask my post office. Fair enough.
So, on Saturday I went to the post office. That's a crazy thing to do, I know, but I had a package to ship out anyway so I figured I'd ask while i was there. I mentally prepared myself and then I went. To. The. Post. Office. On. A. Saturday.
It was like going to a third world country. A line of people out the door who looked like they'd all been there for a few weeks. Naturally, the woman ahead of me seemed completely confused by the idea of mailing an object and didn't know how to ship it or what to put it in or how it worked at all. She had the item she wanted to ship and an address and that's it. le sigh.
I finally got my turn with the grumpy government worker and he was nice enough. I gave over my package and bought some cool Eames stamps and then casually asked him about my missing package. I gave him my tracking number and OH MY GOD, he got up to "go in the back" to see what he can find out. No, no! Come back! Never mind! Ah!
Now, anyone who's ever been to the post office and had an employee disappear in to the mysterious back region knows they are completely fucked. Here's what I think happens:
- goes into the back
- takes a smoke break
- eats a snack
- laughs it up with other employees who are "looking for a package"
- has another smoke break
- catches up on his stories
- plays package pyramid bowling
- takes a little nap
When he got up and walked around the corner I felt the heat of the collective rage of the other twenty people waiting in line. OH MY GOD WHAT DID SHE JUST DO? WHY IS HE GOING IN THE BACK. WE ARE NEVER GOING TO LEAVE NOW. LETS KILL HER WITH THESE FREE PRIORITY SHIPPING BOXES THAT NOBODY KNOWS HOW TO USE.
I coped by staring at the wall and pretending I couldn't feel the hate-rays penetrating me. Approximately 800 years later he wandered back and showed me a printout of the exact same information I'd given him to begin with - that my package had been been accepted July 02 in Shanghai. He earned his paycheck, however, by explaining to me that it meant the package hasn't actually left China yet. It's still in customs. Grand. I thanked him and fled the post office before the rest of the patrons stoned me.
I contacted the seller to let her know what was up and she offered to send me a replacement...wait for it...WITH MY NEXT ORDER. Now, I haven't even gotten my first order yet so why would I order more stuff I'm not going to get? What, am I an idiot?
I do wonder if my stuff will ever be released or if it's just there in customs forever. Does anyone know?
So, on Saturday I went to the post office. That's a crazy thing to do, I know, but I had a package to ship out anyway so I figured I'd ask while i was there. I mentally prepared myself and then I went. To. The. Post. Office. On. A. Saturday.
It was like going to a third world country. A line of people out the door who looked like they'd all been there for a few weeks. Naturally, the woman ahead of me seemed completely confused by the idea of mailing an object and didn't know how to ship it or what to put it in or how it worked at all. She had the item she wanted to ship and an address and that's it. le sigh.
I finally got my turn with the grumpy government worker and he was nice enough. I gave over my package and bought some cool Eames stamps and then casually asked him about my missing package. I gave him my tracking number and OH MY GOD, he got up to "go in the back" to see what he can find out. No, no! Come back! Never mind! Ah!
Now, anyone who's ever been to the post office and had an employee disappear in to the mysterious back region knows they are completely fucked. Here's what I think happens:
- goes into the back
- takes a smoke break
- eats a snack
- laughs it up with other employees who are "looking for a package"
- has another smoke break
- catches up on his stories
- plays package pyramid bowling
- takes a little nap
When he got up and walked around the corner I felt the heat of the collective rage of the other twenty people waiting in line. OH MY GOD WHAT DID SHE JUST DO? WHY IS HE GOING IN THE BACK. WE ARE NEVER GOING TO LEAVE NOW. LETS KILL HER WITH THESE FREE PRIORITY SHIPPING BOXES THAT NOBODY KNOWS HOW TO USE.
I coped by staring at the wall and pretending I couldn't feel the hate-rays penetrating me. Approximately 800 years later he wandered back and showed me a printout of the exact same information I'd given him to begin with - that my package had been been accepted July 02 in Shanghai. He earned his paycheck, however, by explaining to me that it meant the package hasn't actually left China yet. It's still in customs. Grand. I thanked him and fled the post office before the rest of the patrons stoned me.
I contacted the seller to let her know what was up and she offered to send me a replacement...wait for it...WITH MY NEXT ORDER. Now, I haven't even gotten my first order yet so why would I order more stuff I'm not going to get? What, am I an idiot?
I do wonder if my stuff will ever be released or if it's just there in customs forever. Does anyone know?
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
More Important Topics
Now, can we talk about something really important? I'm thinking The Olympics and human rights violations. More specifically, I think these stupid LZR bodysuits are violating my human right to see hot dudes in Speed0s. I'm not even joking. I mean, we are talking about the .001% of the population who should just walk around naked and they're wearing BODYSUITS? What has happened to the integrity of the Olympics? It's a damn shame.
And while we're on the topic, why can't the powers that be provide the women's volleyball team with bikinis that fit? It's like some team dude somewhere in a hotel in Beijing was all, "Oops! Looks like we only packed the XXS swimsuits! OH WELL." Truly, my husband doesn't seem to mind (uh, at all) but I really mind that the men's beach volleyball team wears tank tops and baggy shorts. WTF. How is that fair? Speed0s for all!
Clearly, I know what's important about the Olympics and I'll tell you right now:
1. Judging events about which you have no prior expertise. (I'm a crack judge in the synchronized diving category, just so you know.)
2. Nearly naked hot dudes.
Added:
3. My sister just reminded me about this national embarassment. Our president, ladies and gentleman! Wow. Just...wow. How many more days?
(Oh, and lest you all think I'm making light of human rights violations: I think it's completely ridiculous that the Olympics are in China at all. How did that even happen?)
And while we're on the topic, why can't the powers that be provide the women's volleyball team with bikinis that fit? It's like some team dude somewhere in a hotel in Beijing was all, "Oops! Looks like we only packed the XXS swimsuits! OH WELL." Truly, my husband doesn't seem to mind (uh, at all) but I really mind that the men's beach volleyball team wears tank tops and baggy shorts. WTF. How is that fair? Speed0s for all!
Clearly, I know what's important about the Olympics and I'll tell you right now:
1. Judging events about which you have no prior expertise. (I'm a crack judge in the synchronized diving category, just so you know.)
2. Nearly naked hot dudes.
Added:
3. My sister just reminded me about this national embarassment. Our president, ladies and gentleman! Wow. Just...wow. How many more days?
(Oh, and lest you all think I'm making light of human rights violations: I think it's completely ridiculous that the Olympics are in China at all. How did that even happen?)
Monday, August 11, 2008
At least now I know what moves you guys.
EIGHTEEN comments! I talk about serious world problems I get nothing. I talk about bacony debit cards I get comments. Well, I'm sorry to break all your hearts but as I was trying to check the bacon box my hand slipped and checked the sushi box. I'M SORRY. It was prettier! And now I'll never get another comment out of you all because you're so disappointed in me.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Oh, me and my first world problems.
You guys! Last night I was thinking about going through the towering stack of unopened mail that was threatening to take over the little table inside our front door and then Stella did a two point sliding landing into it from the chair and pretty much forced my hand. So, I went through the mail and made several stacks:
- trash
- trash that needs shredding (thus, it will end up in the towering stack of "to be shredded" mail that's threatening to take over our entire house)
- bills
- actual real mail, like the notice from our mortgage lender that they're taking back their HELOC, thanks very much. We weren't using it anyway, but dang.
Among the actual real mail I found a letter from my bank explaining that they'd be issuing me a new debit card and I have a big important related choice to make. People, oh my God. SO MANY CHOICES. WHAT TO DO. So, I figured, who would know better than the four people who read my blog? Plus, my sister is out of town and can't skew the results. SO, here is the visual:
- trash
- trash that needs shredding (thus, it will end up in the towering stack of "to be shredded" mail that's threatening to take over our entire house)
- bills
- actual real mail, like the notice from our mortgage lender that they're taking back their HELOC, thanks very much. We weren't using it anyway, but dang.
Among the actual real mail I found a letter from my bank explaining that they'd be issuing me a new debit card and I have a big important related choice to make. People, oh my God. SO MANY CHOICES. WHAT TO DO. So, I figured, who would know better than the four people who read my blog? Plus, my sister is out of town and can't skew the results. SO, here is the visual:
(please click to see it big 'an stuff)
NOW. What will it be? Kiwi? Sushi? BACON? I mean, what? BACON! It's so freaking weird. I should point out that "evergreen" is the default so its boring and we don't really want it even though I added it to the poll anyway (it's there on the right). Please vote! Polls close tomorrow at 11am.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Control Yourself.
Last night I had the second part of my meditation class and it focused more on health and healing, with a little bit of cringy inner-spirit/angel/God stuff thrown in, and even though it wasn't past-life regression (which we didn't perform, by the way, we just discussed) it was still really interesting.
He talked about healing and how meditation has been proven to help with serious illnesses, like cancer and heart disease. Then he casually dropped the C bomb- his wife has terminal cancer. I then realized that the woman sitting next to me and perhaps another woman sitting across from me were also currently battling cancer. I felt like a giant asshole. I wanted to raise my hand and announce that I was a huge jerk for nattering on about my stupid jewelry business and how I wanted to use the broadcast decree to attract customers. I'M SORRY YOU HAVE CANCER. PLEASE DON'T MIND MY SELF-CENTERED BULLSHIT.
Right before we did the healing meditation, when the instructor was talking about his wife and how it had helped her to cope, he also was all, "but this will work for a cold too! It doesn't have to be serious, like cancer." So that's good to know. But still, I felt like a worm. A worm flaunting my good health all over the place.
Amusing aside about my customer-attracting broadcast: the instructor was freaking delighted that I'd tried it and wants me to email him and let him know how it turns out. Such a nice man! It was a really good class overall.
He talked about healing and how meditation has been proven to help with serious illnesses, like cancer and heart disease. Then he casually dropped the C bomb- his wife has terminal cancer. I then realized that the woman sitting next to me and perhaps another woman sitting across from me were also currently battling cancer. I felt like a giant asshole. I wanted to raise my hand and announce that I was a huge jerk for nattering on about my stupid jewelry business and how I wanted to use the broadcast decree to attract customers. I'M SORRY YOU HAVE CANCER. PLEASE DON'T MIND MY SELF-CENTERED BULLSHIT.
Right before we did the healing meditation, when the instructor was talking about his wife and how it had helped her to cope, he also was all, "but this will work for a cold too! It doesn't have to be serious, like cancer." So that's good to know. But still, I felt like a worm. A worm flaunting my good health all over the place.
Amusing aside about my customer-attracting broadcast: the instructor was freaking delighted that I'd tried it and wants me to email him and let him know how it turns out. Such a nice man! It was a really good class overall.
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