So I'm standing in line at my local grocery store. I have the typical single person's items (non-PMS related by the way) which included two boxes of Chex cereal - one rice and one wheat. I like to mix my cereals, what can I say? Plus I had my coupon for $1.00 of two boxes, and they were already on sale. Score!
I don't quite recall how the chatter started, which is true for about 95% of my conversations, but the guy behind me was definitely a crowder. You know the type. The crowder is the one who inches in and makes you feel like they are trying to put their stuff on the conveyor belt with yours and then pretend that they are actually your friend, standing too close. Then he says, "Can I take a look at this?" while picking up my box of Wheat Chex cereal. "Uh, sure," I mumbled, since he was already looking at it anyway. I am usually more talkative but he seemed icky and I was kind of wishing he wouldn't talk to me. He had a bottle of red wine and some other stuff...I guess the items of a more classy single person. He then goes on to explain to me that since his cholesterol levels...blah blah blah or something, he always checks the labels on the cereal box to see if sugar is listed within the first three ingredients. I mean, this is not NEW news dude. Still, he has to show me that of course sugar is one of the top three ingredients in my cereal. Duh. He should be behind me during a PMS-induced shopping trip. Then he went on and on about high fructose corn syrup and how he'd prefer to drink soda with regular sugar as opposed to high fructose corn syrup (insert the voices from Peanuts grownups here). I asked him, "So what cereals have you found to have sugar NOT listed in the top three - Kashi maybe?" He just started looking around and grunted, "I can't think of any right now." What the hell fella? If you're going to preach to me about my cereal ingredients, including crossing that line of picking up the box to read the ingredients, then you'd better know what you're talking about and be able to offer me some alternatives!!! Luckily the line had moved along and our quality time was coming to an end. I paid and then took my sugary Chex cereals and left without saying goodbye to Icky Guy.
It got me to thinking though. I have often chirped up in grocery lines to the people around me in line, making what I have always considered to be friendly, casually conversation. Sometimes it has paid off and friendly conversation ensued. My sister says I talk too much. However, I never pick up other people's belongings or lecture them on their purchases. What's most important to remember at those moments of engagement is to know your audience. You can get a real feel for people who are not feeling you. They may not be surly or unfriendly, but recognize their indifference at back off immediately. Other times checking out can turn into a real party fun fest! Stick your toe in the water first, then proceed as appropriate.
Maybe next time I'll address the inconsiderate asses who can't get off their cell phones for two minutes to check out and how eye-rolling at the cashier is totally appropriate!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Movie Review: Our Idiot Brother
I love Paul Rudd. I figured there would be more to this movie than just a story about an idiot guy who asks the guy next to him on the subway to hold his huge wad of cash so he could tie his shoes or whatever. And I was right. The problem is, even a really good cast could not pull it off. I had an idea that it would be sweet - a story about trusting others and living without prejudgments, worry, stress or anger and how one guy living that way could open everyone up to peace, love and understanding. It was sort of that way, but something got lost in translation. Maybe this film was trying to be a little quirkier than other movies doling out the same type of message.
I was hoping to leave there feeling inspired to be an "idiot" - the idea that simplicity is mistakenly viewed in our society as stupid or naive, and that is somehow bad. Being nonjudgemental or keeping things simple does not equal being dumb or naive. The film sort of made me mad like that, but at least the sisters in the movie realized that they were wound too tight and thought they'd like to think more like their "idiot" brother instead of how they'd been acting, but it just didn't feel genuine somehow. It felt like they were going to laugh at the end and say, "HAHAHA - we were just kidding you, you IDIOT!"
I expected too much. I went to see Little Miss Sunshine with no expectations - LOVED IT. I loved the relationships between these strange and unlikable people that grew stronger by the end of the movie. They all forgot their differences to form a protective shell around Olive. Genuinely sweet. I went to see Sunshine Cleaning with no expectations and really liked that a lot too. The relationships worked somehow. Maybe it's just Alan Arkin.
I give this movie: 2 Oscars (represented by a black cat since my black cat is named Oscar)
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Shermie Gets Sentimental
This doesn't happen often, and when it does it's usually in private. I am feeling introspective and incredibly grateful, and I am going to share my feelings on that. Feel free to look away, but I am hoping these feelings ring true for many of us. We need to embrace them and share with others so it becomes more of the norm.
I am no different than anyone else - in 2010 I had good times and bad times and then good times again. The usual. But somehow this year felt different.
I rang in the New Year with my best friend and her kids. It was a genuine good time. We played games, laughed and made resolutions. As the new year progressed, I continued to feel more and more mired in my financial difficulties and couldn't get a grasp on it to be able to pull myself ahead. It just wasn't happening. Then a few months into the year, Oscar had a very bad asthma attack. He has attacks periodically but this was bad. I called my mom and sister, who within minutes were in front of my apartment ready to drive Oscar and I wherever he needed to be, which was at an emergency animal clinic since it was late in the day on a Friday. In case you missed it, Oscar is my eldest cat at 16 years of age. It was pretty scary. He wasn't sick to where he needed to, thank goodness, be put down but he needed to be treated! Long story short, he ended up doing okay and I was forever grateful to my mom and sister for their support. They never blinked an eye. They were not working at the time, so their financial times were tough also. After that whole experience, I decided to take them up on their previous offer of having me move into their rental house with them. I'd have the basement to myself, basically. I felt the time was right - I could help them with rent, etc and they could help me get back ahead of the game. Not to mention my mom had used her credit card to pay the vet bill, so I could pay her back and then some.
For the first six months or so, things were awesome. Aside from my sister smoking in the house, I really had no grievances, and even that wasn't much of a complaint after a few strategically placed fans and candles. She seems to think that the smoke goes right out the window which she leaves open right by her and doesn't grasp that smoke goes e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. When I get out of the shower, my towel reeks of smoke. I decided to pick my battles and that was pretty much off limits. You need to know my sister to understand why I let that go. Soon after I moved in, she got a job and that helped a lot on many levels. On the other hand, my mom wasn't working so she was doing my laundry while I was at my part time job, and then when I was at my regular full time job, where I work from home, she would make me dinner. It was a pretty sweet setup! In fact, I started thinking that maybe I could get used to this for life.
Here we are about a year later. The sweetness is giving way to some tartness. I must say most of it must be coming from me because I am now starting to get those itchy-scratchy feelings of needing my own place. I don't want to ask friends over and say, "Umm..kay, wanna come play in the basement where I stay?" Everyone who enters the house must enter through the front door and go through the living room, where each evening my mom and sister are at their usual posts, one on each couch, watching their stories. I have no problem with that - more power to them and whatever makes them happy. But it's time to have my life back. As a grown woman.
My mom is now working again. My sister's working again. I'm still working two jobs, but I am back ahead of my financial distress. So I think we are all ready for fresh starts.
Still, when I think about how grateful I am that I had the opportunity to get caught up and to help my family in the meantime, and the fact that they are truly happy to have me here in the house with them, I do get a little veklempt (I don't know if that's the way it's spelled, but you get my drift). There aren't a lot of people who have the type of family to be able to work through all this, and even though I feel a need to break free, it feels good because it's not out of anger or frustration that I feel a need to leave, but rather a greater appreciation for what it takes to not get myself in a bad situation again - I really learned a lot from how they run their household and hopefully I've rubbed off on them as well, in my own way. It's how it's all supposed to work, and if you'd asked me a couple of years ago if that would be possible, I would've laughed a very loud, tip my head back and open mouth - HAHAHA...no way in hell! But growing up teaches us that we are all capable of much more than we give ourselves credit for.
Ahem...I should add that I am not perfect because I am still quite petty when it comes to the relationships with my cats - MY kitties. I take great pride in having raised Oscar to be 16-1/2 years old and a sweet little old man (although a bit dramatic and perhaps a bit of a wuss), along with all the others. I do get a little peeved from time to time at being informed of the patterns and personalities of my cats by my mom and sister (which I have been familiar with for years, but whatever) and they seem to be almost daring me to get mad at the fact that they think my cats are going to be unable to live without them. I know differently. Oscar has moved a zillion times with me and has always enjoyed the new places as much as the old. Cats are curious so they like change and finding new fun things to enjoy. But that's for a different blog post because I just now remembered that I am supposed to be feeling grateful. Oops! I slide back into being sort of pissy so easily! Practice...deep breath...ahhh.
I am no different than anyone else - in 2010 I had good times and bad times and then good times again. The usual. But somehow this year felt different.
I rang in the New Year with my best friend and her kids. It was a genuine good time. We played games, laughed and made resolutions. As the new year progressed, I continued to feel more and more mired in my financial difficulties and couldn't get a grasp on it to be able to pull myself ahead. It just wasn't happening. Then a few months into the year, Oscar had a very bad asthma attack. He has attacks periodically but this was bad. I called my mom and sister, who within minutes were in front of my apartment ready to drive Oscar and I wherever he needed to be, which was at an emergency animal clinic since it was late in the day on a Friday. In case you missed it, Oscar is my eldest cat at 16 years of age. It was pretty scary. He wasn't sick to where he needed to, thank goodness, be put down but he needed to be treated! Long story short, he ended up doing okay and I was forever grateful to my mom and sister for their support. They never blinked an eye. They were not working at the time, so their financial times were tough also. After that whole experience, I decided to take them up on their previous offer of having me move into their rental house with them. I'd have the basement to myself, basically. I felt the time was right - I could help them with rent, etc and they could help me get back ahead of the game. Not to mention my mom had used her credit card to pay the vet bill, so I could pay her back and then some.
For the first six months or so, things were awesome. Aside from my sister smoking in the house, I really had no grievances, and even that wasn't much of a complaint after a few strategically placed fans and candles. She seems to think that the smoke goes right out the window which she leaves open right by her and doesn't grasp that smoke goes e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. When I get out of the shower, my towel reeks of smoke. I decided to pick my battles and that was pretty much off limits. You need to know my sister to understand why I let that go. Soon after I moved in, she got a job and that helped a lot on many levels. On the other hand, my mom wasn't working so she was doing my laundry while I was at my part time job, and then when I was at my regular full time job, where I work from home, she would make me dinner. It was a pretty sweet setup! In fact, I started thinking that maybe I could get used to this for life.
Here we are about a year later. The sweetness is giving way to some tartness. I must say most of it must be coming from me because I am now starting to get those itchy-scratchy feelings of needing my own place. I don't want to ask friends over and say, "Umm..kay, wanna come play in the basement where I stay?" Everyone who enters the house must enter through the front door and go through the living room, where each evening my mom and sister are at their usual posts, one on each couch, watching their stories. I have no problem with that - more power to them and whatever makes them happy. But it's time to have my life back. As a grown woman.
My mom is now working again. My sister's working again. I'm still working two jobs, but I am back ahead of my financial distress. So I think we are all ready for fresh starts.
Still, when I think about how grateful I am that I had the opportunity to get caught up and to help my family in the meantime, and the fact that they are truly happy to have me here in the house with them, I do get a little veklempt (I don't know if that's the way it's spelled, but you get my drift). There aren't a lot of people who have the type of family to be able to work through all this, and even though I feel a need to break free, it feels good because it's not out of anger or frustration that I feel a need to leave, but rather a greater appreciation for what it takes to not get myself in a bad situation again - I really learned a lot from how they run their household and hopefully I've rubbed off on them as well, in my own way. It's how it's all supposed to work, and if you'd asked me a couple of years ago if that would be possible, I would've laughed a very loud, tip my head back and open mouth - HAHAHA...no way in hell! But growing up teaches us that we are all capable of much more than we give ourselves credit for.
Ahem...I should add that I am not perfect because I am still quite petty when it comes to the relationships with my cats - MY kitties. I take great pride in having raised Oscar to be 16-1/2 years old and a sweet little old man (although a bit dramatic and perhaps a bit of a wuss), along with all the others. I do get a little peeved from time to time at being informed of the patterns and personalities of my cats by my mom and sister (which I have been familiar with for years, but whatever) and they seem to be almost daring me to get mad at the fact that they think my cats are going to be unable to live without them. I know differently. Oscar has moved a zillion times with me and has always enjoyed the new places as much as the old. Cats are curious so they like change and finding new fun things to enjoy. But that's for a different blog post because I just now remembered that I am supposed to be feeling grateful. Oops! I slide back into being sort of pissy so easily! Practice...deep breath...ahhh.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
My facebook dilemma...
I love facebook. I don't like the games like Farmville or Skankville, or any of those other time-consuming ways to drive other people crazy. Sending flowers or hearts...not my thing. I just like the connection with people who feel the same way about things I do, and even the connection with people who don't. It has been so wonderful to find people I knew waaaay back when, at a time when I didn't know how to pick friends or people I liked or disliked. Now it's nice that we've all grown up and can still reminisce from totally different perspectives.
Okay - here's what stresses me out though, and truly it's all on me. I am too insecure or something, I guess. Say I make a comment to something someone wrote. Then I get really frustrated when someone doesn't acknowledge MY comment. Maybe I'm not insecure, maybe I'm really a selfish attention whore. I'll give you a specific example. I noticed under my cousin's thread (jargon for the beginning of a "discussion") people were congratulating her for losing some weight and she mentioned that she stopped drinking diet coke. So I added that I am inspired by her, and that I had read all sorts of bad stuff about aspartame, blah blah blah. Anyway, I guess I thought that people should respond to my very informative addition to the thread, and when people continued to add comments I was sure there would be thanks involved. But no, they just kept congratulating her as if they hadn't even READ my comment! And maybe they hadn't, but in any case I followed along to see where the topic of discussion would go, and my cousin responded to somebody who came after me about the negative stuff she had read about aspartame...with NO mention of what I had said and NO thanks whatsoever. I need therapy to figure out why this grates on me so badly. I mean, it's not a personal affront to me. I tell myself it really has nothing to do with me, so what's eating at me? Do I have a desperate need to be needed maybe? Do I need constant stroking of my ego? Do I need to hear someone affirm my thoughts and feelings constantly?
Ugh. No matter what, this needs to stop. My sister says I need to make everything be about me, and even though she usually says it with a nasty edge to her voice which sounds a bit bitter and, dare I say, hateful, I guess she's on to something. The good news is she doesn't read my blog, so she'll never know I admitted that she may be right. I still have my motto to always fall back on..."at least I'm not driving around with bodies in my trunk." Thanks to Todd Snider for those lyrics. It truly put life into perspective.
Okay - here's what stresses me out though, and truly it's all on me. I am too insecure or something, I guess. Say I make a comment to something someone wrote. Then I get really frustrated when someone doesn't acknowledge MY comment. Maybe I'm not insecure, maybe I'm really a selfish attention whore. I'll give you a specific example. I noticed under my cousin's thread (jargon for the beginning of a "discussion") people were congratulating her for losing some weight and she mentioned that she stopped drinking diet coke. So I added that I am inspired by her, and that I had read all sorts of bad stuff about aspartame, blah blah blah. Anyway, I guess I thought that people should respond to my very informative addition to the thread, and when people continued to add comments I was sure there would be thanks involved. But no, they just kept congratulating her as if they hadn't even READ my comment! And maybe they hadn't, but in any case I followed along to see where the topic of discussion would go, and my cousin responded to somebody who came after me about the negative stuff she had read about aspartame...with NO mention of what I had said and NO thanks whatsoever. I need therapy to figure out why this grates on me so badly. I mean, it's not a personal affront to me. I tell myself it really has nothing to do with me, so what's eating at me? Do I have a desperate need to be needed maybe? Do I need constant stroking of my ego? Do I need to hear someone affirm my thoughts and feelings constantly?
Ugh. No matter what, this needs to stop. My sister says I need to make everything be about me, and even though she usually says it with a nasty edge to her voice which sounds a bit bitter and, dare I say, hateful, I guess she's on to something. The good news is she doesn't read my blog, so she'll never know I admitted that she may be right. I still have my motto to always fall back on..."at least I'm not driving around with bodies in my trunk." Thanks to Todd Snider for those lyrics. It truly put life into perspective.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Yucky Monday
I do try to face every day with a positive attitude. I take it as it comes, generally, even though I get juiced about things - it mostly stays in my head I guess. Sometimes I take it out on Twitter and Facebook. But today I had to admit I was off to a rough start to my day and, since it's Monday, I hope it can only get better from this for the week.
My mom is home today, sick. Gross coughing and just generally looking and feeling pretty crappy. I feel bad for her. My sister is home today as her day off for having to work on Saturday. Okay. I am off today as well. My job requires me to work weekends, so I usually get two days off through the week. This week it's Monday and Tuesday. So we're all home. Enter the gnawing sense of an impending non-relaxed day. I enjoy the days when I get to come home and have a little quiet time which makes me feel I am back in my own place. Just me, myself and I. And the cats. Peace. Quiet. No need to talk about anything for a few hours until everybody else starts getting home. Ahh. I love those days. No biggie. One day isn't going to kill me. At 1:15, while sitting at Bread Company reading and having a bagel, I realize I've missed a phone call from my sister who says, "Hi, it's us." Then something about did I want something from McDonald's and what did I want for dinner? Ugh.
Back up to yesterday. My mom had pulled her car in the driveway behind my sister's car, and my sister planned to get an oil change, etc, so she needed Mom to move her car. I found this out while getting ready to go to my part-time job this morning and immediately went into my mom's room to tell her I would move her car so she wouldn't have to. Nice, right? The response? "Well NOW you think of that." So she had already gotten dressed, but what the hell? I said, "I just found out the plan!" Hmmph. I get her keys and go out with my sister. I back out, then she backs out and I pull back into the driveway so she can pull her car in behind. I pulled up almost under the carport and stopped and turned the car off. I looked in the rear view and my sister had this really nasty ass look on her face, threw her hands up in the air and then waved them as if waving me forward. I could read her mouth - "Keep going!" or at least something to that effect. So I turned the car back on and pulled up another, what, foot? Oy. Come on.
I wish things got better from there. I get to work and the scanner is down. I should explain that my job is scanning. And I have a bit of an attitude towards one of my many Republican co-workers because she seems to have that air of superiority that I often pick up on, but also often overreact to. Trying to avoid spiraling into the abyss of poopy moods, I went to find something else to do away from my desk. I still had to leave an hour early and hence lost an hour of pay. Yes, I'm whining, but since my job is apparently on its way out (being phased out by a computer software), I am justified.
I am not sure where this is going, other than my rambling whining, but there's an underlying theme here. It may sound a bit self-centered, but here it is: No matter how optimistic I feel when I get up out of bed in the morning, people are mean. To me. For no reason.
Of course this evening I had to feel sorry for my mom. My sister was very irritated with my mom's coughing and said to her, "Well I had a nice day off having to listen to you cough all day." My mom responded, "Well it hasn't been fun for me either." To which my sister replied, "Well you're the one who's sick." And I could feel my blood pressure rising, along with some type of gastric irritation coming to life in my gut.
My optimism must win out. Tuesday. Must. Be. Better...
My mom is home today, sick. Gross coughing and just generally looking and feeling pretty crappy. I feel bad for her. My sister is home today as her day off for having to work on Saturday. Okay. I am off today as well. My job requires me to work weekends, so I usually get two days off through the week. This week it's Monday and Tuesday. So we're all home. Enter the gnawing sense of an impending non-relaxed day. I enjoy the days when I get to come home and have a little quiet time which makes me feel I am back in my own place. Just me, myself and I. And the cats. Peace. Quiet. No need to talk about anything for a few hours until everybody else starts getting home. Ahh. I love those days. No biggie. One day isn't going to kill me. At 1:15, while sitting at Bread Company reading and having a bagel, I realize I've missed a phone call from my sister who says, "Hi, it's us." Then something about did I want something from McDonald's and what did I want for dinner? Ugh.
Back up to yesterday. My mom had pulled her car in the driveway behind my sister's car, and my sister planned to get an oil change, etc, so she needed Mom to move her car. I found this out while getting ready to go to my part-time job this morning and immediately went into my mom's room to tell her I would move her car so she wouldn't have to. Nice, right? The response? "Well NOW you think of that." So she had already gotten dressed, but what the hell? I said, "I just found out the plan!" Hmmph. I get her keys and go out with my sister. I back out, then she backs out and I pull back into the driveway so she can pull her car in behind. I pulled up almost under the carport and stopped and turned the car off. I looked in the rear view and my sister had this really nasty ass look on her face, threw her hands up in the air and then waved them as if waving me forward. I could read her mouth - "Keep going!" or at least something to that effect. So I turned the car back on and pulled up another, what, foot? Oy. Come on.
I wish things got better from there. I get to work and the scanner is down. I should explain that my job is scanning. And I have a bit of an attitude towards one of my many Republican co-workers because she seems to have that air of superiority that I often pick up on, but also often overreact to. Trying to avoid spiraling into the abyss of poopy moods, I went to find something else to do away from my desk. I still had to leave an hour early and hence lost an hour of pay. Yes, I'm whining, but since my job is apparently on its way out (being phased out by a computer software), I am justified.
I am not sure where this is going, other than my rambling whining, but there's an underlying theme here. It may sound a bit self-centered, but here it is: No matter how optimistic I feel when I get up out of bed in the morning, people are mean. To me. For no reason.
Of course this evening I had to feel sorry for my mom. My sister was very irritated with my mom's coughing and said to her, "Well I had a nice day off having to listen to you cough all day." My mom responded, "Well it hasn't been fun for me either." To which my sister replied, "Well you're the one who's sick." And I could feel my blood pressure rising, along with some type of gastric irritation coming to life in my gut.
My optimism must win out. Tuesday. Must. Be. Better...
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