Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Randomology

Just a few things that have been rattling around my brain.

1. I hate Clorox. Not any one particular product, but the whole company. Every freakin time I watch TV there is a commercial showing how important it is to use a clorox disinfecting spray on every.single.surface. in your home. I hate that for several reasons. I think it perpetuates the "I am a better mommy than you" sort of thinking for those who think they are doing their children a favor by bleaching everything they come into contact with. And also, it is creating stronger bacteria.

Children, and mankind in general, have managed to survive all these years without dunking everything in bleach. Some bacteria are good to have, and being exposed to others can strengthen your bodies immune system. Unless you have someone in your home who has a compromised immune system, there is simply NO NEED to go so far overboard in germ killing. I feel the same way about all of the antibacterial soaps available. Soap, on it's own, IS an antibacterial agent, and when used properly is pretty much all the power you need, unless again, you live with or are someone who has an illness that requires it, or you are a cardiovascular surgeon preparing to go in.

2. Not to go all Seinfeld on my thousands of adoring fans, but what is the deal with Coach purses? I understand they are nice, and well made, but honestly, when I see someone carrying one, all I can think about is that that person spent over 200 for a purse. A PURSE! And I am too cheap for that. I do own two supposedly Prada purses, purchased from an employee of the state attorneys office. So they are either evidence in a case for forgery or hopefully good knockoffs. And I paid about 60 bucks for each one of them and that is as high as I could go. I also get irritated with the logo. I guess I just don't see the thrill in carrying the logo as free advertising everywhere I go.

Anyway, although I hope to be able to live an abundant life as long as I am living, I hope I never get carried away and convince myself that carrying a purse that I paid over even $100 dollars is reasonable. If I have that much money left over after meeting my needs, I hope I am smart enough and kind enough to give it to a charity or individual that needs it more than I need a trendy purse.

3. It is spring and that means it is bug time here in Texas. I know other places have bugs too, but when people say things are bigger in TX, they really mean the bugs. And I am truly a bug-phobic. Really. Diagnosed and all. And I am outnumbered by the nasty little creatures, so I am doing my best to get as many as I can with the windshield wipers when I am driving. The locals actually refer to mid summer as cricket season. That is when giant huge crawling swarms of them are EVERYWHERE. They literally cover entire spaces in parking lots and manage to hop, walk, fly, and tunnel their way into the store and movie theatres. And not just the lobbies either. All the way into the theatre. And I know, on some dim level, that is quite the accomplishment for a bug, like running a marathon for a person. But I don't care, I just want them gone.

4. I joined a book club, and I liked the first book (The Kite Runner) and discussion, but the book I am supposed to read for next week just seems very chick-lit-y and that irritates me. I can read fluff anytime, but if I am going to meet up an talk about it, then I think a better, less highbrow book would be a better choice. I am buying it tomorrow anyway, but I am not gonna like it.

5. The new season of Work Out started tonight on Bravo. And yeah, I just panned a fluffy book, but I am all into the shallow drama on this show. It's MY blog. I'm allowed.

6. I was a good sister. I mailed a birthday card with $50 in it to my brother in CA. He is realy the only immediate family member I am in contact with, and we have only been close-ish for the last year or two. I have sent a lot of money to him, and that is not to brag, because I know he needs it - he has a degenerative spine condition and has not been able to work full time for a while. So it feels good to be able to help, plus if I ever need like a kidney transplant or something I totally have dibs on his. But it also bothers me, because a big part of the rift between my parents and I revolved around money. That wasn't the main problem, just the straw that broke the camels back. And it is sad when money comes between family. Or friends. I think that a family should be there to support one another no matter what, or else what is the point of even being a family? If you aren't interacting and caring for one another then you are just a bunch of strangers who happen to share some DNA.

My brother and I were never at all close before. He is either 5 or 7 years older than I am - I never remember which although I know how many years are between me and my sister and 2 other brothers. I truly do not think we have ever hugged each other or interacted on anything more than an strictly necessary way before, so I am happy that it happened better late than never.

7. Last, but not least - co workers who irritate me.
I work 3 ten plus hour shifts a week. On Thursdays, before I go to work, I buy milk, and celery to take with me and leave at work. I keep peanut butter already there, so I don't eat the crud in the vending machine. I got very angry this past week when I discovered that someone had helped themselves to about 1/3 of my carton of milk. I wouldn't have minded sharing, if I was asked, but I wasn't. Plus this was the expensive organic milk. And while I am back on the vegetarian wagon, I am not quite vegan yet and I wanted my milk! And the peanut butter - well, I buy the butter, I buy the celery and so I feel free to just dip the celery into the peanut butter and then double dip. My money, my groceries, my germs. So I was less than thrilled to see half of it gone with the serrated knife blade pattern clearly evident. So I posted a memo to everyone that it was mine and it wasn't placed there for everyone, and oh yeah there were germs aplenty. I don't really need a confession from the guilty party, but it would be nice if someone left a buck or two in an envelope as restitution. I can dream.

So, that's what has ben floating around in my head lately. Oh, and I hope everyone out there in Internet world filed their taxes on time. I'll be back soon to snark about Rock of STD's Two.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Little Me

Liz at http://tenmonthspregnant.blogspot.com/ has a post up today about her daughter writing on the wall, which made me think of my own graffiti days.

When I was maybe 5 or 6, the neighbor mom next door was Myra. Not only do I hate that name, but she had a moustache, and was a naggy whiny sort of person. I know it was back in the 80's, but I am pretty sure that you could get some sort of bleach paste or even tweeze. Anyway, I got the brilliant idea to write "I hate Myra, Jeremy" on the piano in orange marker. Since the piano was next to a table which was next to a couch, my crime went unnoticed for a very long time. Until the furniture was rearranged.

My parents brought in my brother Jeremy for a inquisition. Since "his" signature was clearly written on the piano, and he didn't care much for Myra either, he was found to be guilty, despite his pleas of innocence. But then, right before the spanking, one of my parents questioned why he would sign the message, especially since he is 3 years older than I am, and would surely have known better. All eyes turned towards me.

I am pretty sure I was spanked, but since my parents didn't much like the neighbors either, I probably got off lighter than had I scrawled another name. I was such a cute kid.

Where I live now has a little pencil graffiti on the hallway, and I just like it enough not to erase or clean it off. Some angry little dyslexic person had written "bicth" at about hip height, and I kinda like it. Plus, whoever did it was at least smart enough to use erasable pencil rather than orange permanent marker. So while their spelling may be lacking, at least the medium was well thought out.

Friday, April 4, 2008

So tired

Words I have made up:
1. Fevil. If you know what fugly is, you can figure this out.
2. Stepwife. Because I KNOW this happens in the Ozarks or somewhere. And for the record, I was born in West Virginia, which gives me license to make fun of other places thought to be inbred or worse.

I took two of my usual pills for sleep since I need to snooze before work tonight. More soon, but I can't keep my head from wobbling.