I'm Determined to Get a Food Borne Illness This Holiday Season

This weekend I narrowly escaped eating tainted and recalled Honeybaked Ham.

Last night as I was cooking dinner and talking, I dropped my cell phone on the cutting board. The salmonella covered chicken cutting board.

This should send Christine to an early grave for sure.

Transparent

This morning when I stopped by my dealer's, I noticed that there were messages printed on the napkins:

Less napkins. More plants. More planet. Less napkins.

That's a really nice sentiment, and true to some degree. But I think the real message is:

Less napkins. More profit for Starbucks. Less napkins.

300th Post

I'd like to institute a new neighborhood covenant/restriction:

All rotten pumpkins must be removed from your yard before you can put up your Christmas decorations.

Oliver Claus

Again, the only reason I want a dog.

Letters, We Get Letters, We Get Stacks and Stacks of Letters

Dear Pollyanna,

You’re the only person in my Bunko group who I’ve found I don’t care for. I’m sure you’re lovely, but you’re just not my cup of tea.

Maybe it’s the fact that you use my email address to try to sell your products. Maybe it’s your knack for turning every conversation back to you within 10 seconds. It could be that you never show any interest in anyone else or ask how she is. Oh, I know. It’s that we’ve known each other for almost a year, you’ve been inside my house, and you still call me Cary. That’s it. I refuse to correct you because I would then be denying myself an opportunity to roll my eyes at the women of substance surrounding you.

Step outside of your fantastic little life for a minute and get a clue.

Peace Out,

Cary

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Woman in the Publix Parking Lot,

Yes, I realize I was driving the wrong way down a one-way aisle. I did it on purpose. I assure you that no one’s car or person was in danger.

Did you know that as you pantomimed and bounced in your seat and said repeatedly that it was one-way I kept my face as impassive as I could as I stared at you? I understood what you were saying, therefore rolling down your window and trying to tell me a fourth time was completely unnecessary.

I sincerely hope this is the biggest problem you face today, as I don’t think you have the coping skills for a real crisis.

Best,

Your passive aggressive fellow driver

B-A-N-A-N-A-S

One of the newest things to drive me crazy is the misuse of clichés or commonly used phrases. I’m sure I’m guilty of this too, but it doesn’t bother me when I do it. Imagine that.

On Top Chef last week someone screwed up approximately 3 clichés in one sentence. I don’t remember all of them, but one was “don’t throw me off the bus.” Correct cliché (all of these are in my experience only) = “Don’t throw me under the bus.”

On The Amazing Race one of the guys said his partner was being “snickety.” Is that acting in the manner of Lemony Snicket? Correct cliché = “Being snippy” or “In a snit.”

Once an old boyfriend told me that someone was “tempting the waters of fate.” I just looked at him slack-jawed and wondered how I could’ve ever made out with such a dumb ass. Correct cliché = “Tempt the hand of fate” and/or “Test the waters.”

I have a coworker who I actually like a whole lot, but who constantly tempts the waters of fate with her misuse of names/words/and clichés. We were recently talking about someone who was once looked upon favorably, but who is now in the doghouse with our supervisor. She told me that “the dew was off the lily” and “the glow was off the rose” in so many variations that I eventually forgot just what the fuck we were talking about in the first place. I’m not even sure of the correct cliché in this instance. The bloom is off the rose? She also tells me several times a week that different things are not her bailiwick. Okay, I understand that that’s a way of saying that something’s not your job, but you made me look up the word in the dictionary, and you’re still not pronouncing it right.

Updated to add: don't even get me started on "innocent bystandard."

In Defense of the Fair

Every fall we go to the county fair. I love the fair. I love the cool weather and watching the sunset over the city and eating things on sticks. It would be easy to put the fair in the same distasteful category as theme parks because it true that they too are loud, crowded, germy, and dangerous.

This was a banner year due to the addition of Purell stations every 10 feet. I no longer had to plan the eating of funnel cake before the petting zoo, and I didn’t have to save my $7.00 bag of cotton candy until I got home. Also, there was this new ride that I was so excited about. I can’t describe it, but it required the removal of my shoes and shoulder harnesses. Because of his height, Joe has a hard time with shoulder harnesses. Apparently the workers (I was going to call them carnies, but I won’t now) couldn’t get the thing to latch properly, which would make the safety light come on. I have underestimated fair workers because I never knew there were safety lights, much less that they were enforced. I almost hugged the man as I thanked him for not allowing us to be catapulted into the next county.

We bought tickets from a woman who looked like the “after” part of a crystal meth advisory poster. If she had been operating the catapult, I can’t say I’d be here to write this.

No Title Tuesday

Yesterday I was using a public restroom and the girl in the next stall was talking on her cell phone as she peed. I could not believe it. I thought doing that was something only seen on television commercials or an urband legend at the most.

I flushed twice because I'm spiteful that way.

Happy Birthday Alicia!

I'm not so good at the mushy, plus C. said it all. You are an amazing person with a huge heart. Everyone who meets you loves you. I know this past year will be hard to top, but I hope the upcoming one is your best yet. Thanks for being such a great friend. I love you!

It's Like They Planned the Menu for Me

When I met Joe he worked at an amazing company that threw amazing Christmas parties. I got to go to places I'd never been. Places you have to pay dues to for the priviledge of later buying dinner. Well, this company was bought and the annual entertainment budget was reduced from $25,000. (I'm not even kidding. This is mind-boggling to a girl who's only worked in human services.) Last year was the final straw. We were insulted when we received the invitation to the holiday party at the zoo. We protested by wearing jeans and laughed at the morons in their semi-formal wear.

Joe changed jobs in January. It's a small company, and we really didn't expect to have a party. Believe it or not, no party is better than a party at the zoo. Today we received an unexpected invitation to one of the old members-only clubs. The invitation has a menu card which I've been carrying around so I can look at it now and then. My mouth waters every time.

• Bacon wrapped shrimp with sweet chili sauce
• Duck spring rolls with plum sauce
• Stuffed mushroom caps
• She Crab soup
• Salad of mixed greens, glazed pecans, dried cranberries, gorgonzola cheese & champagne vinaigrette
• Chargrilled filet mignon
• Crab cake with lobster cream sauce
• Chocolate layer cake

We've been instructed not to wear denim. I think that's a fair trade.

The Opposite of Fun

Once again I had to torture myself by carving a pumpkin using a stencil. You can't tell, but on the back is a cat and when lit it casts a shadow. In the middle of all this I started swearing and sweating (and stepped on a shard of broken glass) and said I'd never do it again. I'm oddly pleased by how the rats look like my sister's old guinea pig. I'll leave the question of whether or not I purchased a half-priced stencil book today unanswered.

Last night after our 13th trick or treater dressed up as him/herself, we instituted a new rule: "If you can't be bothered to dress up, we can't be bothered to give you a Snickers or Butterfinger. You will receive a Starburst instead."