Alright, I'm up on a DAMN SURFBOARD and can manage only
5 6 comments? Two of which are from Stella? (who, by the way, is getting extra credit for that)
[/sniff] Who ARE you people?
Sure the wave was only like a... footer, footer and a half-er but humor me; I was the "old chick" in these lessons.
(maybe should have I gone for doing some tricks? Perhaps a handstand or surfing while playing the ukulele on one foot while singing Hawaiian Rainbows or something? Or an artful photo of me biting it (because that I have actually, as that is how I "stopped")).
Anyway, while I'm comfortably in the Yippin Zone, other things that have bugged:
While in Hawaii, aka The Land of Awesomeness, I got to "hang out" with a lady who entered the elevator I was on as she was mid-teeth flossing and CONTINUED ABOUT HER FLOSSING BUSINESS ON THE ELEVATOR. Totally without embarrassment either, like, hey, this is what people do. They walk and floss. Floss and walk. Oh, and while TALKING with her friend. And you could hear the flick-flick of the floss going in and out of each tooth. I'm not even a germ-a-phobe but even I thought this was just too eck if not a touch (or 8 touches) too bizarre. So it was in that moment that I mentally awarded her a tie for Biggest Weirdo Encounter of 2007 (thus far - and the other half of the tie going to lady for crying on my feet). And I think this is saying something considering this means I'm giving Cat Scarf Lady a pass. Boy.
To the People Who Use Public Toilets: A word.
"How hard is this?"
Yesterday, I was in the nice Filene's Basement in Back Bay in Boston yesterday (hoity-toity section of Boston if you aren't familiar) and had to use the restroom. Alright, I know we all have at one time or another "seen some shit" (if you'll pardon the pun) - especially if the toilet is busted, or located in a dive bar, a gas station, etc., but when there is (quite a bit of) fecal matter ON the actual toilet seat, that is when I stand up and say, "Mother of Troy, What.The.Fuck?" I'm not even sure how the physics of that compute. Which vexes me so much so that of course this lent my stupid mind to drift to CONTEMPLATE the physics of this disgustingness. So thank you for that, Ms. Toilet Defiler.
The only thing I could think of was maybe someone was employing the Hovering Stance and things went terribly, terribly awry. Or maybe they had a child doing the business and things got ...tricky. Regardless, it is my contention (I'll make it my platform should I ever run for office) - You Mess It Up, YOU CLEAN IT UP. C'mon, at least TRY. I don't need your Hovering Stance pee on the lid forcing me to move onward or, if the situation forces the issue, clean it on your behalf (which incidentally for every row of 5 stalls, there is at least one with the Hovering Stance pee on it), and P.S. I CERTAINLY DO NOT NEED TO SEE YOUR POOP. In or ON the toilet.
Which brings be to bitch point #2a Flushing: Is this, like, really such a difficult skill to master? Or are people really just THAT lazy that they can't be inconvenienced to flush down their own excretions. I mean, come on.
Bitch point #2b: Oh, and here's a thought perhaps taking that extra second to make sure your ALL of your business went down the drain? I empathize that two flushes can be so labor in.....wait...no, ...no...actually, upon further reflection, it is really not so hard to do.
Flush, sometimes twice is what I'm saying.
Lastly, to The Self-Imposed VIP Entitled Assholes Who Walk Around Town:
Quit. walking. into. me.
Do you know these people of who I speak?
You're walking, you're walking, you're paying attention while you're walking because that is just good sense and you are on a course, a straight course, and the person walking in the opposite direction almost seems to go out of their way to walk almost right into you. If I were a guy I would suggest that these people are RIGHT UP IN MY JOCK. Sometimes it's calculated and they know that they're doing it and don't care, and other times these people are veering because they cannot be bothered to LIFT THEIR STUPID HEADS ('stupid heads'..heh, and I didn't even plan that) because they are so, so very important. Or these people have a pal, or 3 to walk straight across the sidewalk but hey, don't mind me! I'll just be WALKING IN THE STREET OR PRESSING MY BODY AGAINST THIS HERE WALL LIKE A SCENE STOLEN FROM CAGNEY AND LACEY OR SOMETHING. MAYBE I CAN STAND IN THIS GARBAGE CAN TO MAKE SOME ROOM FOR YOU ALL.
Except not, because being the passive aggressive bitch that I am capable of being, yeah, I'm not moving. Oh sure, I suppose I could, but then I am basically reducing my life the real life version of Lifetime Television for Women's movie "Stutter Steps: A True Woman's Tale of Danger, Deceit and Total Bullshit". (Hmmm, I wonder if they could get Jennifer Boob Hewitt to play me. And maybe give her a shiv. Yeah, that would be pretty boss.) Seriously, I feel like I'm playing a human game of Frogger.
Also, P.S. to the chick in my building this morning: could you just give me a minute, slow your stride a mere half pace, and let me get out of the rotating doors FIRST before you enter my spot. Seriously, I'm pretty quick, and I know I said 'give me a minute', but really I'll only be a HALF A SECOND there, SWEET CHEEKS.
Okay - the yipping is over. I hadn't done that in very long while. Just needed to get that off my chest.
Have a nice day.
(Seriously, if you walk into me, may God have mercy on your stupid-headed soul.)