Friday, June 18, 2004

So I have just a few random odds and ends this morning, things that didn't seem important enough to be their own posts (like that's ever stopped me before. But seriously folks...).

The food bank collection box at my office is still there in the kitchen, still accepting donations. It hasn't been emptied/delivered in months. Inside of it right now: A bunch of pasta, a JollyTime popcorn ball maker (two hemi-spherical pieces of plastic), Stop n' Shop brand pumpkin pie filling, and the winner of worst donation of all goes to: An open, half-eaten jar of organic baby food (mashed squash, I think), which I threw away upon discovery.

If you are a person who does not blush, and you happen to meet and spend time with someone who does blush, let me give you this piece of advice: If your new acquaintence starts blushing for whatever reason, the thing to do is NOT to say "Hey look, you're blushing! Wow, your face is getting sooooo red! It's like neon red! Ha ha ha! Hey everyone, look at her blushing!" Saying things like this to me means an automatic sucker-punch to the gut. Then I will rain bitch-slaps upon your face, until I am able to stand back and triumphantly say, "Hey look at how red her face is! You look like a candy apple! Ha! Ha! HA!" A jury of people who blush would acquit me in a second. The correct thing to do: Ignore the blushing entirely.

A few weeks ago as I was walking my dog on my street, a car drove up slowly next to me and the window rolled down to reveal a late-middle-aged woman with fussy hair. She said "I hope you pick up after that dog." I said yes, I always did, I am a responsible pet-owner. "Do you have bags with you?" Yes, yes I did have bags. I'm very responsible, I always pick up the poop. She chuckles and says "But do you USE the bags? Because they're no good unless you use them!" Uh, yes, I always, always use them. (Didn't we go over this?) She pulls into the driveway of the house diagonal from mine. Her house is huge and expensive-looking and her lawn is weed-free. Now, every time I pass by it, I think about leaving a neatly-tied baggie of my dog's poop on her porch. This very morning my dog took a dump on her property, and I contemplated leaving it there out of spite; but I didn't. Because I am a responsible dog owner, not one of the many, many people who carry around plastic bags just for fun and fashion.





4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Whenever I blush, I also get all red and splotchy in the neck and chest region. I have had people POKE me between the collarbones and shout, "WHY IS YOUR CHEST ALL RED? DO YOU HAVE A RASH?" and as they go poke poke poke I have calmly extracted a Bowie knife from my purse and stabbed them in the eyes. It's the only way they'll learn.

Love,
Alice (finslippy.typepad.com). Anonymous THIS, blogger.

av said...

I KNOW. That made me laugh. Blushing sucks! I hate blushing hugely when you aren't supposed to. Like if someone at work talks about sex and you're just supposed to play it cool. Like when my coworker apologized for yawning during our meeting, saying he's a necrophiliac. He goes, "Or is it..." Me: "Narcolepsy. Necrophiliacs have sex with dead people." He laughs, all embarrassed. "I've been up all night!" I joked. OK, then I didn't really blush that bad, I kept my cool pretty good. I hate talking about sex with coworkers. It just always crosses the line.

debl said...

I literally have not blushed for years, so it was horrible when it happened a couple of weeks ago. A drunk hippie couple came by when I was chatting with a male acquaintence on the street, and they asked us all of these friendly questions, like were we single, and how old we were, and then insinuating that we clearly liked each other and were about to hook up, (complete with comments like "nice choice, she's very pretty"). Which, you know, wasn't going to happen. But because of the nature of the acquaintence-hood, I blushed at the suggestion, and they, being drunk and lacking in social graces, made sport of me. Also, the woman, guessing my age, said, "are you 17?", and when I hesitated, she said,
"Wait, 12?" Assholes.

av said...

How annoying! Haven't blushed in years? Dang. I haven't blushed in days. Maybe weeks? Yeah. Tel me this: why reschedule a 9:30 meeting to 9:00, make Av on time for work for once, then not start the meeting? It's 9:20. It's one of life's mysteries. Another mystery is how fast my last week at work is going! Woo hoo!