Okay- so I did the tag thing. I think I might not do it again since I got lots (some) shit for opening up my heart and airing some of my quirks. Thank god I didn't list them all. I would be ousted from the community and have to live in a hole. So - I like my spaghetti with butter and ketchup once in a blue moon! It's not like I invented self service cash registers at Walmart or am personally responsible for closing 600 Starbuck's because I think the roast is too strong!
What if I told you I won't scratch anyone's back older than a 10 year old? What would you say to that 'quirk'? Huh? The thought of human skin and hairy man back under my nails (even though they are fake) just gives me the willies. I would use a spatula or a ruler or something to help you reach the 'spot'. I am not that heartless. And how about the fact that I have no pinky toe nails, huh? Huh? (defensive stance taken here) How's that for a quirk? ;)
Oh yeah - The global warming thing? That was totally me. All that butter melting in the warm soft noodle. Eating up ozone layer and destroying polar bear habitat - I take full blame for that one!
What's with people and drive thru ATM's? What is so difficult about this concept? You drive up, put your card in, punch in your PIN, get your money and drive away! If you have more than a 1 minute transaction - GO INSIDE! Our local bank actually has padded rails on either side of the the ATM drive thru since I guess they've had a tough time identifying the rear view mirrors of the different makes and models of the cars that have been left in the driveway. Again, if you can't navigate the bumper car - stay off the ride. And, there should be a rule that only the driver can use the drive thru ATM - not the front passenger and definitely not the 7 teens squeezed in the back of the Scion trying to get enough change scraped together for the Chalupa deal meal the Taco Bell.
I must admit I am a jealous soul. All this talk about BlogHer convention and I wasn't even invited. I feel like the girl who wasn't asked to the prom because she was just a junior even though she hung out with seniors. Whazzup with that? If it was in Vegas, I would have gotten the comp.
We all go the nail salon for our bi-weekly Vietnamese lesson, right? What is with the new phenomena of male nail technicians? According to Xio/Lynn/Kathy (whose name has changed 3 times depending on which place she is working) - they own the salon. Are they the mani/pedi pimps or something? Do they beat the girls for not upselling? "No brazillian wax and spa pedicure? You don't eat tomorrow!" Oh- and although they all speak Vietnamese, most of them are actually Chinese. At least the one's I have quizzed - and I do quiz them. I am nosy like that. And , I ask them what they are always yelling about. And- they are making fun of you, in case you were wondering. They are actually making fun of me and my freakishly quirky no-nailed pinky toes.
There are some things I don't trust...a masseuse with tiny hands, a young handsome gynecologist (what young stud would want to get into the business end of an older patient?), the fact that an older model Ford LTD would actually be able to negotiate the lane at the drive through ATM, and a male manicurist.
I think I have figured out the ultimate difference between men and women. Men don't have the *gasp* gene. You know, that sound you make when you see your toddler climb up to get a (real) glass from the cabinet. Or the sound when you look away for one minute at the playground, only to see your kid hanging from the highest landing on the jungle gym. Or - when your husband is playing in the pool with your two little girls and flings them so high in the air they get a nose bleed from sheer altitude. The other day in the PUD's pool, Hubby was throwing them around , I just couldn't look. Even though their laughter was great - and all the other dad's in the pool started chuckin' their kids around too - it was too much much for me to handle. I *gasped* so much I actually had to go in the water and dunk my head (fun mommy fo' shizzle) just to drown out the noise.
I am home with the kids the majority of the time - they don't seem to get hurt with me. Hubby comes in the house, rouses them out onto scooters and skateboards and within twenty seven seconds, I hear crash, bang , boom and "OWWWW". Half an 8 year old's ass is left on the sidewalk. I *gasp* and run outside - pick up the kid and slap the man. Sorry you had girls, Hubby- soon they,too, will develop the *gasp* gene and will take to kinder gentler play. They'll come to your softball games and actually watch you tear your planter fasciata instead of dangling off the precipice of the tallest platform of the jungle gym. You'll hear them as they actually....
*Author's note to her mom.
*I am sorry mom. Now I know why you always said 'watch your head' when I was doing anything that would remotely come close to me hitting my head. And all those time when we would go out at night and you would say "Drive carefully" in your mom tone. And, we snotty know-it-all kids snark back something like "naaah, I think I'll swerve alot and hit a guard rail". You were only doing it because of the *gasp* gene. It wasn't your fault. You trusted us. But, I will say this, mom- the only time I ever hit my head is when you would say "watch your head" and I would turn to you to say "what?" and guess what....I'd hit my effin' head. I totally get it now. I have inherited the *gasp* gene. Like my blue eyes and bad thyroid gland- I got you babe. ...*gasp*
Oh yeah - one more thing. Dang blammit those Merv Griffin's Crosswords people. They changed the time the show aired (it used to be at 2:00 and 2:30 here) so I didn't catch the rerun. I set the DVR for nuthin'. And, the show is so lame, it only airs once in some markets (Deb in VA) so as mine was the 2nd show - the rerun never got re-ran. I didn't win so who really gives a shit anyway. We'll just have to wallow in my Jon Cryer music video fame for a while until they call me back for the Tournament of Losers show ( which I would totally try out for if they asked me - who am I kidding! So go ahead and call me sweet wonderful producer people!).