(the return of) WTFFriday

11 03 2011

Dear Lady on the Train who was Painting Her Nails,
Really?
WTF?
Who paints their nails on the TRAIN?!
I STILL have a headache.

Dear Pedestrians,
Just because you have the right-of-way doesn’t mean you get to walk like an ass.
Use the crosswalk.
Cross when you’re allowed.
Don’t dawdle.
Also, I don’t want to hit you any more than you want to be hit, so The Death Stare isn’t necessary.

Dear C-Section Scar,
If you’d stop hurting after I work out,  I could work out more.

Dear Mr. C,
If you’d stop putting your arm up to your elbow into your mouth, you wouldn’t throw up.
Just Sayin’.

Dear Mr. C’s Teeth,
You’re hurting my baby.
Show yourselves already.

Dear Lady Who is Always in Front of Me Wherever I Go,
Get your change, move aside.
Do not stand directly in front of the register and repack your bills and change into your wallet, put your wallet into your purse, close your purse, put your purse over your shoulder and take your bag.

Dear Beer,
How I loved and missed you.





Follow-Up Friday: Clumsy Momma in MS Paint

25 02 2011

Beh. I knew I should have done more scenes… Falling over the cords was one incident, then this:

(Yes, the cart/trolley wheel is supposed to be wonky)

 


(now, not that my store is that disorganized, but I didn’t feel like drawing 97000 cans/bags of cat food)


(and it’s not that Buffy & Kali eat THAT much, but Bailey has taken to snacking from their bowls, making us go through food 200% quicker)

Better now?





WTFFriday: “MYOB in Paint”

17 09 2010

Due to my current state of waddledom, I cop out and take the LIRR half a mile to my office.
I choose to sit at the front of the first car, tying not to sit close to other people, such as one does in the restroom (occupied, empty, occupied, empty).

Getting to a front seat, there’s someone on the train I haven’t seen before and well, that voice in my head said “Maybe you should sit further back” and the other voice said, “It’s only two stops!”
So I pass Unrecognizable Person, and make sure there’s two seats between us; the train has one other person on it at this point.

I wasn’t quite able to get her hair big enough without blocking out the rest of the scene. Work with me here.
So, I take my seat, resume my I-feel-unlady-like-but-damn-it’s-comfortable-to-not-close-my-knees seated position.
I hear that screechy theme from Friday the 13th start playing and in slow motion, I see Unrecognized Person turn towards me.

“WHEN IS THE BABY DUE??!?!?!”, U.P. says SUPER LOUD.
Not feeling like a total bitch, or maybe because I chickened out, I did NOT say, “What baby?” or “Do I know you?”. Instead I forcibly laughed and said, “A few weeks still.”
“Wow, you’re working up right till the end, huh?!”
Resisting temptation to have her come see  my obvious car, I nod, not making eye contact, “Uh huh. I feel fine, there’s no reason not to.”
“SOOOOOOOO, do you know what you’re having?!?!?!?”
Thinking that she’s not getting the hint from my tone, I try looking tired and say very simply, “No.”
She faces forward, taking that “Oh, you don’t want to talk to me about your bbbbaaaabbbyyyy” skunky beer face*.
Then the Friday the 13th screeching starts again.

“Welllllll, I JUST found out that MY daughter is pregnant!”, she says, turning her body towards me, trying to engage me in conversation.
“Congratulations.”
“Poor thing is so sick. Just vomiting all the time and nauseous.”
I do that forced laugh thing again, “Yeah, I hear that happens.”
Skunky beer face, again. “The doctor wants to put her on medication, but she doesn’t want to take it.”
“Ah ha ah ah.” (I am Stephanie’s feigned interest)

I turn away, not a total body turn, but more of “hey, what goes on over here.”
It was her stop. “Well”, she sing-songs, “Good luck!”
“Thank you.”

The other person on the train was smirking the whole time.

Note: Headphones and books do nothing in these situations. People tap me on the arm to ask questions.

Dilemma: “Oh, hush up, they’re just happy and excited for you!”, some people say.
Those people don’t understand.
First of all, I often don’t know the person who is asking me these questions. HOW exactly are they excited or happy for me?
Second, I feel as though incubating questions are personal. Do these people ask other people what kind of underpants people wear? Do they ask clearly sick people how their feeling? Oh, wait, sorry, it’s allowed to be nosy with pregnant people because babies are precious and adorable… cancer is scary and bad and we don’t want to discuss that.

*You know, when you crack open a beer, expecting it to be all kinds of awesome and then it’s that rogue beer that ends up being f-ing gross.

(Funny, Pregnant Chicken just posted about Things I Wanted to Say While I was Pregnant)





Monday, Why do you Torture me??!

13 09 2010

It’s feeling a bit like Friday the 13th, rather than Monday the 13th.

1) Traffic on the 10s is useless when you don’t announce an accident that’s more than 10 minutes old. Especially when it’s right after I pass the last exit to take the alternate route.

2) Constant Comment is in the office. (remember him? Here, here and here)

He comes up to me, I’m already in a bad mood and he’s using that “You’re so young and stupid” voice… “So, how you feeling these days?”
“Fine.” (Thinking, “Go away.”)
“Feeling the baby kick?”
“I’m 9 months pregnant. I should hope so.” (mind you, he was in a month ago and asked when I was due, clearly out of courtesy, then promptly started talking about himself.)
“Oh, then you can go about any time then!” (my new least favorite phrase)
“I have a few weeks still. (“GO. AWAY.”)
Taking a “I have poops older than you!” tone with me, “Bet you want some advice.”
Taking a “I’m being serious when I say this” tone back to him, “No. Actually, I don’t.”
He proceeds to talk to me anyway.

3) Note to Annoyance, you know that I was working on that proposal. Why aren’t you asking me about it?





WTFFriday: Shorties

10 09 2010

(I know you’ve all missed me soooooo much… no MiniMak yet, just nothing “exciting” going on; doubt you care about my whining that Dairy Queen is closed at 9pm.)

Dear Media Outlets,
If you don’t want something to be news, don’t pick it up or cover it.
That nutjob with the Quran burning, he’s getting the attention he wants because you’re giving it to him.
Sure, it’s news, but YOU’RE the ones blowing it out of proportion. Not saying that what he’s doing is wrong or right, but he had a flock of 50. In Florida.
Pretty sure it wouldn’t have been national news if you’d keep it in your pants.

(now that we’ve got the unpleasantness out of the way)

Dear Old Navy,
You’re so hard to resist with your chunky sweaters, non-mumu maternity clothes and adorbs baby stuff.
I wish I knew how to quit you.

Dear People Who Don’t Know,
When a lady is pretty far along in her pregnancy, she’s got a good idea of if there’s one or more babies in there.
Asking her if there’s twins in there causes undue TMJ flare ups. Extra flare for following up with, “Are you sure?”
This, just moments after you commented on how good (read: smaller then someone this far along)  she looks.
Besides, if there were twins A) you would have heard about it by now B) They’d be the size of peanuts because twiners are A LOT bigger.

Dear Date Requesters,
Baby isn’t taking requests for birth day.
We’re honored that  you’d be willing to share your birthday with us, but really, when he/she is ready, that’s when it is.
Stop looking at me like I took Old Yeller out back when I say, “We’ll see when we decide to come…”

Dear Rotating Doctor,
I’m sure it’ll be nice to meet you next week.
Sorry that our first encounter is going to require your looking at my lady bits. This isn’t how I usually start relationships off.





WTFFriday

27 08 2010

WTF Person Who Laughs at Everything,
Just wondering, what is so funny about someone sneezing? No really, let me in on this joke because I don’t get it.
I sneezed, pardoned  myself and you damn near burst your bladder.
I know you’re not that jovial, what’s with the laughing?
Someone brought you a soda? HAR HAR HAR!
Won a scratch-off lottery? HEE HEE HEE!
Ate some chips? HAW HAW HAW!
*blink*

WTF NYS plate “FEWPROUD”,
Clearly you misread your directions about where to turn.
No problem.
Let me let you in on a tip.
If you’ve realized that you no longer have to turn right, slow down, stay on the shoulder,  put your LEFT blinker on, check your mirror, check your blind spot and when you’re certain that a purple Trailblazer isn’t trying to pass you, THEN pull back onto the road.
Also, that BLARING noise in the key of F, that was my horn.
Your driving antics caused me to break a perfectly good glass when my bag when sailing into my dashboard. You owe me $2.
I’m just glad I didn’t have to pee urgently.

WTF Subway and your “Veggie Delight”,
Let me get this straight… you based the nutritional information using the condiment quantity for a “regular” sandwich and that’s why I have to insist on extra extra veggies?
Ah-ha.

WTF NY plate “U2 ROCKS”,
Your driving offends me.
First, that sign that alerted you to upcoming merging traffic means that traffic will be merging. This doesn’t mean that you play flying eagles with another car that is going slower than traffic and then speeds up to pass you.
Secondly, it’s a called a blinker, or in some areas “directional”. Learn it, love it, use it.
Thirdly, when you pass someone, do not SLAM on the brakes as soon as you get in front of them; especially when there’s a good 700 yards between the bumper in front of you.
Fourth, it’s a posted speed limit. If you’re not going to do it, get to the right.

Fifth, I don’t think you realized ANY of the hundreds of other motorists on the road.
And screw your “Pray for all Priests!” bumper sticker. I pray that you don’t kill someone with your driving.

WTF Gestational Diabetes,
You’re only present for a short time after I eat way too much (i.e. chips, salsa and enchiladas at El Canelo).
Case in point, when I ate that leftover cake and tested 45 minutes later, you were at 115. Technically, you should have been higher.
When I get retested in a few months, kindly stick to the levels we’ve been having.

WTF Chocolate Milk,
Why do you rock so hard?
I love you.





WTFFriday: The Coffee Pot

30 07 2010

WTF is it with the coffee station at work?
There’s a bevy of issues here.

1) What is so hard about making coffee?
Is it that hard to fill the pitcher, open the pre-measured grounds, replace the filter, pour the grounds and pour the water into the maker?

2) How/Why do you leave significantly less than a cup of coffee in the pot?
Are you not going to want more coffee? I mean, it’s 8am.
Are you too good to make more coffee?
Who do you think makes more coffee if you don’t? The coffee elves? Because I’d like to hire them to clean out those gross-ass dishes which keep ending up in the sink.

3) How/Why do you leave 1/8″ of coffee in the pot and then put the pot on the burner (which is on)?
Maybe you didn’t notice the burner was on, that’s acceptable. However, when I can smell the burning coffee 30 feet away and you’re 15 feet away…

4) How/Why do you not go see just WHAT that burning smell is?
I mean, really… plus, I’ve seen you walk past the coffee station a number of times… did you stuff firecrackers up your nose as a child or something?

5) Who is stealing the sugar?
I took inventory and noted that we didn’t need sugar. The next week, there was a hub-bub that the last canister of sugar (with a brown label) was being used. Two days later a canister with the “old” orange-red label was in the trash can. (our sugar used to come in the orange-red canisters, we switched suppliers and the canisters are now brown, if that makes this less confusing.)

6) That little light near the “on/off” switch is a burner on/off indicator. If you’re moving a pot to another burner, why wouldn’t you turn that burner on? Unless, of course, there’s 1/8″ of coffee in the pot.

7) Make. Sure. The. Grounds. Make. It. Into. The. Trashcan.

8 ) Did you not notice that you spilled coffee all over the counter top? How about the floor? I’m a slip hazard when I’m NOT pregnant… plus, it’s not like it’s easy for me to get down there to clean up YOUR mess, BTW. Just saying. You know, in case you thought it was “woman’s work”. In which case, I’d like to introduce you to “Woman’s 2×4”.

Did I forget anything?