A holly, jolly, bitchy Xmas, to you

So, I was at Border's today, giving myself a nice little present of some books for the holiday. Very traditional for me. If you ever need to get me a gift and don't know what to choose, get me a gift cert at any bookstore. Anyway, I'm trying to find one more book, just to take me over the credit left on my gift cards, so that I have two less pieces of plastic in my wallet. Good excuse, no? I'm sitting in the aisle browsing the Japanese cooking books. Whenever someone comes by to browse, I would tell them to "let me know if I am in your way," since I am blocking part fo the shelf, because my parents raised me to be ultra-polite, or at least regular-polite. Only two people came by, and I got into one book, not noticing how long I was sitting there for. Could've been ten minutes, coulda been 30, I don't know. You know how you can get when your attention gets caught by something, and I wasn't in a main pathway, or so I thought.

So, imagine my surprise and flabbergastment when this, this...woman pushes by me, saying loudly that she thinks that I have spent enough time blocking the aisle and that I should go somewhere else if I was going to read the books. She also said some other things that I don't remember (likely because they dribbled out from my ears and through my dropped jaw), and went to stand by the water fountains at the end of the row (which were more easily reached by going around my section anyway, so that wouldn't be a good enough reason to get mad), face to the corner, practically shaking with her rage. She mumbled a few other things to the wall, apparently thinking that it could solve the situation. Psycho bitch. A man who was walking past glanced back (and down) at me, smiled and rolled his eyes.

I mean, I was trying to be considerate, letting people know that I am aware that I am potentially in the way and totally willing to move, but I am browsing the bottom shelf. In a bookstore. Where browsing is socially acceptable. Many smooth comebacks went through my mind, but all I could think of was to get out of the crazy-woman's line of fire, and I got out of the store as quickly as I could, scanning the customers for her. Gah. And the main thing that keeps running through my mind is if she had the balls/ovaries to make a scene, why couldn't she use her fortitude to simply ask me to move? Too much holiday shopping? I'm lucky she didn't have an uzi under her winter coat. Oh well, I made it home, and I have all my ingredients to cook a turkey for dinner tomorrow.

Hope she gets eggnog poisoning.

Learning Curve

What have I learned this week?

1. Do not put lit candles anywhere that a cat may want to jump to.

2. Burnt cat hair smalls really, really bad.

Poor kitty (he's okay).

September baby

I have always tended to fit into the Virgo profile. Of course, you can trick yourself into fitting into anything...

From Brandy, via
21yo_curmudgeon:
Choose your birth month and cross out those things which you feel do not apply to you.


SEPTEMBER:
Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people's mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Thinking generous. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves sports, leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.


Of course, I can't figure out how to cross out things on this site, so I'll put in italics the things which don't sound like me.

Edited to add: Brandy showed me how to strike things out! Yay! People are actually reading this. Eek!

All hail the Illinois State Patrol!

So, there I was, trundling down I-57 on my way to Charleston for an SCA get-together. No passengers luckily, even though I offered rides to any who asked. Whn suddenly, the car starts making a horrendous rumbling noise. I quickly sort through my mental list of "things that need to get fixed when I have an actual income" and can't come up with anything that fits the bill. I decide to pull off onto the shoulder, where I discover that my right rear tire is flat. Very flat. Dammit.

Well, fine. There goes my day of fun in southern Illinois. Being a capable woman of the 90s (what? Okay, woman of the two thousands. No, doesn't sound good.), I get out the spare tire and proceed to switch good for bad. I've got all the lug nuts loosened and see a state patrol car pull off the road, going the other direction. Since I am naturally a guilty person, I go through my mental list of "why the police should pull me over." Of course, I'm already pulled over, so that is kinda moot. The nice officer actually drives across the median and stops over on my side of the road and proceeds to take off his tie (hubba!) , explaining that he is on his way to a funeral, but that he'll help me change the tire (aw!).

We switch the flat for the donut spare, get it all screwed on, and then discover (to our mutual dismay) that the spare has something sticking out of it. He pulls it out, then hastily shoves it back in when all the air starts hissing out. God DAMN it. Now I have a flat and a....flat! Sonofabitch. Seems that some sort of plastic furniture leg slide pin-doohickey must have fallen off something while I was moving to my new place and got lodged in the spare.

He calls a tow truck for me (even though I have my cell phone along) and apologizes that he needs to get to the funeral, being that he is in the honor guard and all. I reassure him that I'll be fine. Then, a second patrol car pulls up! So they swap out motorist-watching duties. So me and the new officer have a nice chat about living in small towns versus large towns and how nice the weather is and such, punctuated by slapping the bugs that are enjoying a nice snack off us.

The tow truck comes, and the officer puts out road flares for us (aw!) before he leaves. We get the car all hooked up and proceed on our merry way to the Wal-mart in Savoy, which is where the nice officers recommend me taking the car, since pretty much everything else is closed on Sunday.

Now, I won't bore you with the interminable wait at Wal-mart, where I found out that the tire needed to be replaced, but that they didn't have the tires in question in stock, or with the phone-tag I played getting more information on new tires, but I will say that the State Patrol did a wonderful job of keepign me sane and entertained while I waited for everything to play out on the the side of the ride. Thanks guys!

Appetite

So, I get home after a day of shopping, tired and stressed out and I'm all like "Ooo, what am I hungry for? I know, I want some coffee." So I make myself coffee, using milk instead of my nummy soy creamer, 'cause all I've got is vanilla and I really prefer plain, and I need to use of the milk that is two days past it's date (see previous blog). So I drink the coffee and now I'm all like, "Ooo, now what? I know, I'll have a chocolate (they go with coffee) and some chips. Oh, but chips don't go with coffee." So I finish the coffee, then I have some chips. Now it is 7:30 and I'm thinking of more substantial things. Now I'm going, "Hmm? What's for dinner?" So now I go through the fridge, and the freezer, and try to figure out some kind of more nutritious meal than chips and coffee. I decide to thaw a steak for tomorrow (bought them yesterday from a guy who came to my door and probably got ripped off, but I'm a sucker, so oh well) and continue the search. Find the last two pieces of Chicken Alfredo pizza from Papa John's (I don't recommend it, too dry) and heat them up, along with the remaining garlic dipping sauce (read: garlic powder and oil goop) and some spaghetti sauce because I really wanted red sauce on my pizza instead of what they call "alfredo." I finish the pizza (eh) and watch some more tv. A commercial for Quaker Brand oatmeal comes on, singing its praises for lowering cholesterol. Now I'm hungry for oatmeal (it happens). Then I find out that not only are there no packets of instant maple and brown sugar oatmeal (one of my favorite comfort foods) there is no plain oatmeal. I find some funky hot cereal mix and cook it up. Now I'm eating cooked cereal with brown sugar, butter, and a touch of the aforementioned vanilla soy creamer, because I used up all the milk in my coffee.

And I wonder why I gained over 100 pounds while I was married.