Thursday, March 9, 2006
love it or hate it, part 2
I'm just going to go ahead and say, hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Lately all Hardee's commercials seem to zoom right in on the "oral." Close-ups of people eating ginormous, unsightly burgers and taco salads and other varieties of Death on a Bun. The amplified munching sounds that accompany these feasts, which typically take place in big rigs and feature slovenly individuals. This "Driving" commercial sends me over the edge, however. He's got a steak hanging from his mouth the whole commercial, and shakes it like a dog toy. Fucking gross.
I long for the days when they interviewed the restaurant manager who employed Donald Trump-esque mannerisms: Angus Beef. It's the best you can buy. At least that one was funny, even if they didn't mean it to be.
Wednesday, March 8, 2006
what is it about...
- Jobs. Just like classrooms, or gyms, or churches, or clubs, or whatever, they provide you with a time and a place where you'll see certain people on a regular basis. Maybe you like these people, maybe you don't. I had a job. As of a few days ago, I no longer have a job, partly by choice, partly by circumstance, which I'll elaborate on in a mo'. And, I was lucky enough to very much like the people I saw every day at my job. I miss them.
- When you quit a job. Or end a semester, or graduate from a program, or leave a church or a club, or change gyms or whatever. No longer do you have that structure, that time and place, in which to see the people whom you may or may not have liked on a regular basis. I don't have that structure anymore. I haven't, actually, for a few months, since they day I became too pregnant to stand--or, as the case was, to sit--8 hours at a time handling customer service issues. And now, of course, I have a baby. So I don't see a lot of people anymore, which, I know, happens. But it still makes me sad.
- Babies. Ah, babies. I love this one, currently sleeping in my lap, a whole lot:
Babies tend to make you reorganize a lot of things in your life: Priorities, schedules, your sock drawer. I've changed around all 3, and then some. I've reduced our cell phone plan; I've greatly diminished, if not eliminated, my inclination toward impulse Target shopping; I am making an art and science out of bargain grocery shopping. I'm desperately praying that the little savings will add up. And, I quit my job. This move was unforeseen until very recently, and may seem antithetical (is this the right word?) to the whole need-money dilemma. Firstly, though, daycares and babysitters incidentally charge nearly as much, if not more, than I make per hour. Secondly, look at that face (above). I can't do it. I can't regularly leave her with someone else. - Those ended structures, and the friends therein. You hope the friends know how much you like them. You hope that you'll continue to talk, to email, to hang out. You might. You might not. It's hard without the structures.
- Moving on. A necessary part of life. Sometimes regrettable. Sometimes desired. Often bittersweet.
- Me. Due to the fact that I am rather socially retarded, I am terrible at keeping up friendships and other relationships. Most of the time I'm too scared to call people and ask them to get together. (What if they're busy? What if they feel like they have to make an excuse? What if they're like, um, Penelope Who?) And, I am too dependent on things like jobs as structures. I depend on them to regularly see the people I like. I depend on them to even call the people in them friends. So then, when the structure goes away, I immediately call into question the validity of all of it: did they like me? Did they know I like them? I am not good enough while in the situation, such as the job, at developing friendships outside of the situation. I front with a long list of excuses (I'm tired, I'm a hermit, or, now--I've got a baby!), when really, I'm just nervous. And terminally uncool.
So. I'm in a funk lately, feeling like now the job's gone and I'm "in" all the time and really it's all pretty fabulous being a stay-at-home-mom like I always wanted, but... I don't know. I feel like something's gone? Anyway, my ladies at Castle Branch, if you're reading, and if even if you're like, "Penelope, that sucker--whatever": I love ya! Think we can ever, I don't know, do lunch?
sincerely disappointed
The other day on a misguided whim, I chose the "reduced sugar" version of Cocoa Puffs. What was I thinking? Both kinds of Cocoa Puffs, the good kind and the crap kind, were on sale for $2. Considering all the other crap I eat in a day, did I think I was going to save my teeth? Oh, I know--I thought my ass size would diminish more rapidly with one box of reduced sugar ceral. And perhaps it will, since RSCP's taste so boring I probably won't eat them. WTF. They taste like browned Kix. Which, incidentally, might be mother-tested, but no kid other than a pod-child would approve.
Monday, March 6, 2006
love it or hate it?
When Jessica Simpson sings, "These bites are made for poppin'," on the Pizza Hut commercial, it sounds like, "These bites are made for bobpin'." And I can't decide if this makes me cringe, or if I want to forevermore sing every word that begins with a "p" like it begins with a "b."
Sunday, March 5, 2006
Saturday, March 4, 2006
Weekend Randomness
1. Last night I burned a pot of frozen peas. This isn't something I have ever done, or have ever come close to doing. Ever. How the hell do you burn peas, and in under 10 minutes? It seems to take a special kind of talent.
2. Also last night, though, discovered I had a fever, which might have affected the pea cooking.
3. Instead of peas, served leftover beans as side dish with leftover cubed steak. (It was a night of leftovers, a newly instated L-beam tradition in honor of Operation Spend Less.) Yet, somehow managed to serve both portioins of meal not entirely warmed through. Again, special kind of talent? Or fever. Either way, seem to have failed Microwaving 101.
4. Today, discovered that baby is apparently going bald. And she had such pretty hair, but I suppose it happens. All of a sudden the top of her head is fuzzed-only, while the back and sides remain fully grown in. Kind of like George Costanza.
5. Pondered possible breastfeeding-related infection, which seems to be behind the fever. Do not wish to discuss further details.
6. Dallied in crocheting again. Attempted to start coaster as another practice project. Completed approximately 1 3/4 rows before baby had a fit, which may or may not have been related to sudden onset of Infant Pattern Baldness.
7. Returned to Target, and... did buy some things, but only cleaning products, and only out of convenience. Dammit. Had to go back in order to retrieve aforementioned 60 missing pills.
8. Read a few more chapters of Harry Potter, which I started rereading, shamefully, over a month ago. Have never taken this long to blow through Harry Potter, but suppose I have a good excuse.
9. Half-interestedly watched some of ANTM marathon on VH1. Only thing on. Besides Project Runway marathon. But... have just seen all of these eps. Just biding time until PR2 season finale and start of ANTM Cycle 6.
10. Noticed exciting new commercials for the Surreal Life 6 and had to look up on web. This season will feature the Jeffersons guy, the lead singer of Smashmouth, a dude from Poison, another Playboy bunny, Mrs. Brady, a mystery reality "hunk" whom the other cast members will choose, and the rarely-mentioned Arquette sister. Or brother. Or sister. Alexis? Hmmm. Not sure which.
Tonight's plan: L-Beam Movie Night. Popcorn. Waiting for Guffman. Hopefully sleeping-baby-filled and fever free.
2. Also last night, though, discovered I had a fever, which might have affected the pea cooking.
3. Instead of peas, served leftover beans as side dish with leftover cubed steak. (It was a night of leftovers, a newly instated L-beam tradition in honor of Operation Spend Less.) Yet, somehow managed to serve both portioins of meal not entirely warmed through. Again, special kind of talent? Or fever. Either way, seem to have failed Microwaving 101.
4. Today, discovered that baby is apparently going bald. And she had such pretty hair, but I suppose it happens. All of a sudden the top of her head is fuzzed-only, while the back and sides remain fully grown in. Kind of like George Costanza.
5. Pondered possible breastfeeding-related infection, which seems to be behind the fever. Do not wish to discuss further details.
6. Dallied in crocheting again. Attempted to start coaster as another practice project. Completed approximately 1 3/4 rows before baby had a fit, which may or may not have been related to sudden onset of Infant Pattern Baldness.
7. Returned to Target, and... did buy some things, but only cleaning products, and only out of convenience. Dammit. Had to go back in order to retrieve aforementioned 60 missing pills.
8. Read a few more chapters of Harry Potter, which I started rereading, shamefully, over a month ago. Have never taken this long to blow through Harry Potter, but suppose I have a good excuse.
9. Half-interestedly watched some of ANTM marathon on VH1. Only thing on. Besides Project Runway marathon. But... have just seen all of these eps. Just biding time until PR2 season finale and start of ANTM Cycle 6.
10. Noticed exciting new commercials for the Surreal Life 6 and had to look up on web. This season will feature the Jeffersons guy, the lead singer of Smashmouth, a dude from Poison, another Playboy bunny, Mrs. Brady, a mystery reality "hunk" whom the other cast members will choose, and the rarely-mentioned Arquette sister. Or brother. Or sister. Alexis? Hmmm. Not sure which.
Tonight's plan: L-Beam Movie Night. Popcorn. Waiting for Guffman. Hopefully sleeping-baby-filled and fever free.
Friday, March 3, 2006
Anyway
another list like the last bcs the hummingbird and her babies ate all my thoughts for breakfast.
1. paint
2. eat lunch
3. surf the net, catch not one single wave
4. read
5. yoga?
6. watch gilmore girls
7. ponder this quote: "The intent and the effect of contempt is always to exclude someone, push them away, leave them out and isolated. This explains why filth is so constantly invoked in expressing contempt and why contempt is so cruel, so serious. It breaks the social bond more severely than anger. Yet it may also be done with such refinement. How often we see it, in the schoolyard, at a party, even in the home or church sanctuary! Someone is being put down or oh so precisely omitted, left out. It is a constant in most of human life. In the course of normal life one is rarely in a situation where contempt is not at least hovering in the wings. And everyone lives in terror of it. It is never quite beyond the margins of our consciousness." ~Divine Conspiracy
8: dismayed at lack of chin hair, think about it, oh wait, rejoice.
9: leave the rest of the day uncharted.
1. paint
2. eat lunch
3. surf the net, catch not one single wave
4. read
5. yoga?
6. watch gilmore girls
7. ponder this quote: "The intent and the effect of contempt is always to exclude someone, push them away, leave them out and isolated. This explains why filth is so constantly invoked in expressing contempt and why contempt is so cruel, so serious. It breaks the social bond more severely than anger. Yet it may also be done with such refinement. How often we see it, in the schoolyard, at a party, even in the home or church sanctuary! Someone is being put down or oh so precisely omitted, left out. It is a constant in most of human life. In the course of normal life one is rarely in a situation where contempt is not at least hovering in the wings. And everyone lives in terror of it. It is never quite beyond the margins of our consciousness." ~Divine Conspiracy
8: dismayed at lack of chin hair, think about it, oh wait, rejoice.
9: leave the rest of the day uncharted.
Thursday, March 2, 2006
That is IT.
I declare an official Penelo-Boycott of Target. Sayonara, bitches. And I mean it.
What happened was this: I just went to get a few things. And yeah, I had been there yesterday to get the previously plugged Arrested Development Season 2 for the shocking low price of $14.99. And some sunglasses for the baby. And some Mega M&M's, a product whose purchase, you may remember, had been thwarted last week by the Tyrant. But alas, I realized yesterday evening that a) my prescription was almost gone, b) the dishwasher was full but we had no dish detergent, and c) we were about to run out of foil. Somehow the foil seems just as pressing as everything else. So, called in the prescription this morning using Express Rx, and after (thankfully) being able to calm down the Kaleigh-bug and take a shower, headed over to my formerly favorite store.
I quickly filled the cart with the necessary items, including also 100-count Target brand trash bags, as well as a birthday present for Mom, then headed over to the Pharmacy. Which was... a little crowded. Really, there were only a few people in line, but whenever you've got a cart and have to stand in the line at the Pharmacy, it's a bit of a problem, because where do you stand. Pretty much you're always going to be in someone's way. But, what to do--need the prescription, otherwise, will have to go back. And, it's only a few people. Until I get there. Then everyone else and their jackass cousin who needs drugs too stand in line behind me. Except they're not really behind me, they're sort of off to the side, while I've tried to cram my cart, in an effort to be both strategic and polite, next to one of the endcaps. There's a lot of pharmacy employees behind the counter, including, I notice, the cross-eyed lady who usually works the regular checkout line. Which is...odd. Thought you had to have some sort of pharmacy schooling to work in the pharmacy, but maybe she does and what do I know. Anyway, Cross-Eyes seems to be attending to customers rather slowly and haphazardly, but she's got help, and since she works up front usually, let's cut her some slack, right? And it is crowded--I hate working customer service when it's crowded. Sucks for everyone involved. However--REGULAR RULES OF COURTESY AND CONDUCT SHOULD STILL APPLY. Meaning, people behind the counter, you can see who gets in line first--especially important when you work in an area where there's no space for a line and everyone kind of crowds around in a big mishmash. And, people waiting to be served, you, too, can see who got in line before you and after you. And everyone has to wait, it's not just you. But be honest, assholes. Don't cut. If you hear, "I'll take the next person in line," and you're not it, do not pretend that you are. Let whoever was in front of you go. And back to you, people behind the counter. After you say, "I'll take the next person in line," and someone who wasn't steps up, say so. If you really aren't aware that this person and the six after him are LYING, JERK-FACED LINE-BUDGERS, perhaps take note of the people off to the side who are shooting you appalled expressions of, hey wait--hey. I was here first. The people who are trying to push their way forward to the counter and claim their stake but can't because--oh that's right. They have a cart that they were trying to keep out of everyone's way.
It's a George Costanza moment: We are living in a society here...
Oh, but that's not all. People in said society are assholes and this is not news. But after finally getting waited on by (of course) Cross-Eyes, Pharmaceutical Employee Extraordinaire, she has to call me over to the side, away from everyone, because she can't understand my last name. Even after I spell it. Slowly. Loudly. And twice. As she's looking for my prescription, I load my items onto the counter because hell if I'm waiting in another line after this. Anyway, everyone else is doing it, so why not. Cross-Eyes turns around, my prescription in hand, and starts mumbling like Milton-who-lost-his-stapler, that um, the uh, items need to, uh, be on the other side of the, um, divide. That is, uh, where she, um, has to, uh, ring them up. Except that the other side of the divide is filled with items being purchased by one of the LYING, JERK-FACED LINE-BUDGERS. But she makes me move them anyway. And then rings me up, and my prescription keys in at a whopping $75. Three times the normal amount. Why? Oh yeah. Because my prescription, when written by the doctor, originally called for 3 months at a time. But I had forgotten about this because last time I dropped the thing off in person, and was able to specifically request 1/3 that amount. However, after waiting for 20+ minutes in a line of socially insensitive jerk-faces, and being lucky enough to draw Cross-Eyes in the retail pharm-rep lotto jackpot, could my blood pressure withstand explaining the complexities of the error? Not to mention waiting for at least another 20 while they corrected the error? And then there's the matter of the $75.
I perhaps should have prefaced this all by mentioning that the Penelo-Boycott's timing is really no coincidence. And I'm trying not to obsess about it, but we are currently experiencing some financial issues. Not uncommon with the arrival of sweet little Kaleigh-type monsters. And it's fine. We're shuffling, we're regrouping, we're figuring things out. Trying to avoid indulgences, wherever possible, such as the second season of a beloved television series on DVD. Unless, of course, it is $14.99. In which case, the purchase might be considered "frugal," and "smart," rather than "completely unnecessary." But, apparently, we are going to this year owe the federal government somewhere in the neighborhood of $3000. That's right. To everyone I haven't emailed or have otherwise neglected for the past few days, this is where I've been, mentally, physically: In Turbo-Tax Hell. And I used to be a big fan of Turbo Tax. The name alone--it's like, Go go Gadget Turbo Tax, right? Or something like that. Turbo Tax used to be my friend, and gave me not only simplicity and convenience in sorting out my funds each year, but also REFUNDS. Remember refunds? Ah, those were nice. Now, Turbo Tax is my mortal enemy, my number 1 shit-listed nemesis. And it's not even really Turbo Tax's fault. It's no one's fault, that's just the way things are. The way the cursed numbers add up. Time after time after time. But, have I mentioned that aside from taxes we're broke? I'm thinking extensions, I'm thinking 10-year payment plans with absolute minimums, I'm thinking...pay it all in one wad next year, when we actually get a return. Which we should, for the love of pete. Crimony. Stupid fucking government. More than happy to pay what we're supposed to, but when we're coming up short as it is?
BLAH.
So really--I am fully aware--Target is just the lucky recipient, the chosen scapegoat, for my Wrath at Everything Else. Better a retail store than a person, I suppose. I don't know how long the boycott will actually last. Probably not anywhere as long as my standing Wal-Mart boycott. I mean, $14.99 for a whole season of Bluth.
And again...whine whine whine. Life really is not so bad, and in many ways is in fact quite good. What's another $3000 of debt, in the grand scheme. Just money. It all works itself out in the end. The daffodils are blooming, the sun is out. And even though I checked the bottle when I got home and found only 30 TABLETS rather than the 90 I PAID FOR and had to call the pharmacy and speak to a person (thankfully not Cross-Eyes) who didn't really do anything, just promised to have Blake Barefoot, Head Pharmacist and All-Around Super-Nice Guy, call me in the morning... It will be fine. It will all be fine. Must. Breathe. Deeply.
What happened was this: I just went to get a few things. And yeah, I had been there yesterday to get the previously plugged Arrested Development Season 2 for the shocking low price of $14.99. And some sunglasses for the baby. And some Mega M&M's, a product whose purchase, you may remember, had been thwarted last week by the Tyrant. But alas, I realized yesterday evening that a) my prescription was almost gone, b) the dishwasher was full but we had no dish detergent, and c) we were about to run out of foil. Somehow the foil seems just as pressing as everything else. So, called in the prescription this morning using Express Rx, and after (thankfully) being able to calm down the Kaleigh-bug and take a shower, headed over to my formerly favorite store.
I quickly filled the cart with the necessary items, including also 100-count Target brand trash bags, as well as a birthday present for Mom, then headed over to the Pharmacy. Which was... a little crowded. Really, there were only a few people in line, but whenever you've got a cart and have to stand in the line at the Pharmacy, it's a bit of a problem, because where do you stand. Pretty much you're always going to be in someone's way. But, what to do--need the prescription, otherwise, will have to go back. And, it's only a few people. Until I get there. Then everyone else and their jackass cousin who needs drugs too stand in line behind me. Except they're not really behind me, they're sort of off to the side, while I've tried to cram my cart, in an effort to be both strategic and polite, next to one of the endcaps. There's a lot of pharmacy employees behind the counter, including, I notice, the cross-eyed lady who usually works the regular checkout line. Which is...odd. Thought you had to have some sort of pharmacy schooling to work in the pharmacy, but maybe she does and what do I know. Anyway, Cross-Eyes seems to be attending to customers rather slowly and haphazardly, but she's got help, and since she works up front usually, let's cut her some slack, right? And it is crowded--I hate working customer service when it's crowded. Sucks for everyone involved. However--REGULAR RULES OF COURTESY AND CONDUCT SHOULD STILL APPLY. Meaning, people behind the counter, you can see who gets in line first--especially important when you work in an area where there's no space for a line and everyone kind of crowds around in a big mishmash. And, people waiting to be served, you, too, can see who got in line before you and after you. And everyone has to wait, it's not just you. But be honest, assholes. Don't cut. If you hear, "I'll take the next person in line," and you're not it, do not pretend that you are. Let whoever was in front of you go. And back to you, people behind the counter. After you say, "I'll take the next person in line," and someone who wasn't steps up, say so. If you really aren't aware that this person and the six after him are LYING, JERK-FACED LINE-BUDGERS, perhaps take note of the people off to the side who are shooting you appalled expressions of, hey wait--hey. I was here first. The people who are trying to push their way forward to the counter and claim their stake but can't because--oh that's right. They have a cart that they were trying to keep out of everyone's way.
It's a George Costanza moment: We are living in a society here...
Oh, but that's not all. People in said society are assholes and this is not news. But after finally getting waited on by (of course) Cross-Eyes, Pharmaceutical Employee Extraordinaire, she has to call me over to the side, away from everyone, because she can't understand my last name. Even after I spell it. Slowly. Loudly. And twice. As she's looking for my prescription, I load my items onto the counter because hell if I'm waiting in another line after this. Anyway, everyone else is doing it, so why not. Cross-Eyes turns around, my prescription in hand, and starts mumbling like Milton-who-lost-his-stapler, that um, the uh, items need to, uh, be on the other side of the, um, divide. That is, uh, where she, um, has to, uh, ring them up. Except that the other side of the divide is filled with items being purchased by one of the LYING, JERK-FACED LINE-BUDGERS. But she makes me move them anyway. And then rings me up, and my prescription keys in at a whopping $75. Three times the normal amount. Why? Oh yeah. Because my prescription, when written by the doctor, originally called for 3 months at a time. But I had forgotten about this because last time I dropped the thing off in person, and was able to specifically request 1/3 that amount. However, after waiting for 20+ minutes in a line of socially insensitive jerk-faces, and being lucky enough to draw Cross-Eyes in the retail pharm-rep lotto jackpot, could my blood pressure withstand explaining the complexities of the error? Not to mention waiting for at least another 20 while they corrected the error? And then there's the matter of the $75.
I perhaps should have prefaced this all by mentioning that the Penelo-Boycott's timing is really no coincidence. And I'm trying not to obsess about it, but we are currently experiencing some financial issues. Not uncommon with the arrival of sweet little Kaleigh-type monsters. And it's fine. We're shuffling, we're regrouping, we're figuring things out. Trying to avoid indulgences, wherever possible, such as the second season of a beloved television series on DVD. Unless, of course, it is $14.99. In which case, the purchase might be considered "frugal," and "smart," rather than "completely unnecessary." But, apparently, we are going to this year owe the federal government somewhere in the neighborhood of $3000. That's right. To everyone I haven't emailed or have otherwise neglected for the past few days, this is where I've been, mentally, physically: In Turbo-Tax Hell. And I used to be a big fan of Turbo Tax. The name alone--it's like, Go go Gadget Turbo Tax, right? Or something like that. Turbo Tax used to be my friend, and gave me not only simplicity and convenience in sorting out my funds each year, but also REFUNDS. Remember refunds? Ah, those were nice. Now, Turbo Tax is my mortal enemy, my number 1 shit-listed nemesis. And it's not even really Turbo Tax's fault. It's no one's fault, that's just the way things are. The way the cursed numbers add up. Time after time after time. But, have I mentioned that aside from taxes we're broke? I'm thinking extensions, I'm thinking 10-year payment plans with absolute minimums, I'm thinking...pay it all in one wad next year, when we actually get a return. Which we should, for the love of pete. Crimony. Stupid fucking government. More than happy to pay what we're supposed to, but when we're coming up short as it is?
BLAH.
So really--I am fully aware--Target is just the lucky recipient, the chosen scapegoat, for my Wrath at Everything Else. Better a retail store than a person, I suppose. I don't know how long the boycott will actually last. Probably not anywhere as long as my standing Wal-Mart boycott. I mean, $14.99 for a whole season of Bluth.
And again...whine whine whine. Life really is not so bad, and in many ways is in fact quite good. What's another $3000 of debt, in the grand scheme. Just money. It all works itself out in the end. The daffodils are blooming, the sun is out. And even though I checked the bottle when I got home and found only 30 TABLETS rather than the 90 I PAID FOR and had to call the pharmacy and speak to a person (thankfully not Cross-Eyes) who didn't really do anything, just promised to have Blake Barefoot, Head Pharmacist and All-Around Super-Nice Guy, call me in the morning... It will be fine. It will all be fine. Must. Breathe. Deeply.
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