Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Cone of Silence


I recently viewed the movie, "Get Smart" and want to get one of those thingies that was like a cone of silence. I don't think that's what they called it but I still want one. The reason I want one? So I can let out the rabid thoughts in my head as they occur to me, no censoring, no being nice, just blurt it out. But I would appear nice because the person I didn't want to hear it though standing within earshot would not hear it. I'd need an improved version that was invisible and able to be connected to only one other individual of my choosing. I wouldn't want any snarky, rude thought that might cause laughter to go completely underground. As it stands now the thoughts occur to me and I stop them or sometimes I later relay them to GTC or another person but the delay lacks the punch of the original thought. I don't know why I need this because I do have a blog to vent upon. I guess the immediacy is appealing.

So tonight I come home from taking the kids to karate and roam through the house to put some things away. As I descend the stairs I see a big ass out the back window. See, a cone or some sort of censor might come in handy even as I type. Anyway, our neighbor behind us has taken our comment that she can use the trampoline "anytime" to mean you can use the trampoline "all the time." The disturbing thing about this is the entrance to the trampoline is facing the back of the house. Her daughter was on it and she was leaning into the entrance pushing down on the trampoline to bounce her daughter as her big butt was awkwardly jiggling to and fro. Lazy -- get on the damn thing. Your child is 20 months. But the visual is hard to shake - no pun intended. The thing was shaking it's way all around. To make matters worse it was dinner time. I did the only thing a forthright person could do -- I pulled the blinds shut. If I wanted to view that kind of spectacle I would rather it be of my choosing from late night HBO and preferably someone I do not know at a time when the kiddies were all safely elsewhere. If I had the cone I would have opened the window and shouted, "Get your FAT ASS off my property! I am trying to have a nice family dinner here!"

There are so many other instances where the cone would be of use. Had to get this one off of my mind.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Oh the Damn Mind Games

I awoke this morning in good cheer. After a nutritious breakfast for the kiddies of whole grain, vitamin fortified, Sugarburst cereal we headed to the zoo. There's no need to detail the morning because it went well. We brought our lunches, went on a lame choo choo ride that revealed a mysterious underbelly of the zoo in the way of the backsides of many cages all absent of any creatures living or dead. Three bucks I will never recover but that will be well spent I am certain capturing and caging many more lucky animals being saved from extinction. As an aside I do wonder if the rescuing of a species from extinction is worth it to the animals themselves. That's an entirely different post, however.

To the point of my current thought process...after the zoo I stopped at a local mega super store that shall remain unnamed but will be referred to herein as "We may treat our people poorly but everything is cheaper here." I needed a pack of hanes tshirts for tie dying and some diaper ointment. Of course, I am physically unable to go to this wonderfully under priced store and stick to only the two things I "need." Along the way I found a fabulous and flimsy full-length mirror which I have been coveting for some time because I like to torture myself with the reality of what my entire person looks like. I carefully chose the CHEAPEST one. Pay close attention to that detail because it comes into play later on.

As I approached the checkout my daughter said what she always says every single time we are in a public place. "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom." This time I skipped the speech about how the bathrooms here are filthy (her response last time and I kid you not was, "so is my butt.") I told her older sister and her to head to the bathrooms. Yeah, yeah I had visions of them being abducted in the bathroom but I had a clear view of the bathroom entrance and I was second in line so I knew they'd be back before my turn. Regardless of the faith I had in the decision to send two young, rambunctious children into a public restroom while I was trapped in a checkout line I felt a little stress. They seemed to take longer than usual and I swear I saw people staring toward the restrooms probably wondering where the hell those two loud kids' parents were. But, alas, they returned before my turn as expected.

The older gentlemen clerk tried to scan the full length mirror in the cart but it didn't work. Then he tried to read the skew numbers on the tag as he reprimanded my two year old to "keep it still, buddy, I can't read them movin' numbers." Finally, I said "Let's just move this thing onto the belt there, fella." And the thing still won't scan. So the cashier says, "How much was that?" Here's the damn mind games. I said, "I think 5.99 or 6.99, but I really don't know." He looks at me suspiciously and says, "I don't think the long ones are that cheap." So for a frozen moment in time it's like a showdown, but only he is at this showdown. I quickly say, "I don't remember. I know I got the cheapest one but I don't know the price." So he says, "I'll let you get away with it this time."

At this point my mind is going. First gear -- Catholic conditioning. I am a sinner. I feel guilt. I must've done something wrong here though I am unclear on what that might be. What am I trying to get away with? Second gear -- fuck off, you lazy ass old punk. It's your job to tag these things so get off your rump and check the price. Third gear -- I should tell him I don't feel comfortable "getting away with anything" today and can you please go check the price on this cheap ass mirror while seven people piss and moan behind me? Fourth gear -- if you are that lazy I should have said the price was 89 cents. Damn mind games.