A Rare Aggravation

Generally the little store owned by the Three Z's is a peaceful and lovely place to work. Nice customers, interesting people, and rarely is anyone disgruntled. It is not all that unusual to have some well, off-beat folks visit. Mostly they are sweet and nice, but every so often the more off-the-wall oddball visits. While working at the Three Z's shop yesterday...

Random Dude: That is going to kill you.
Me: *Looking for imminent death and seeing none* What?
Random Dude: The Diet Coke. It's going to kill you.
Me: Uh, thanks. Yeah, it's not good for me. *Looks skeptically at the tiny 12 oz bottle of DC*
Random Dude: Yeah, like it is going to destroy your health.
Me: Well, it's just about my last vice, so I sort of cling to having one a day still.
Random Dude: It's not good for you. I bet if you stop drinking it you will feel so much better. Like, when people ask me for health advice I always say that they should stop drinking Diet Coke. You should drink something else instead. Like coffee. Drink coffee all day long. Or regular Coke. Or (lists 400 beverages). Anything is better than Diet Coke. It's going to kill you.
Me: Thanks.
Random Dude: Lectures about the perils of Diet Coke....again.
Me: Thanks. *thinking, SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPOHMYGODSHUTUP!!!!!*

Random, preachy, annoying, irrelevant and unsolicited advice is perhaps my least favorite thing. Ever.

Happy Hallo- Wait, What?

Dude. People, I went to get Ruth and another friend, Brooklyn, birthday cards and when I walked into Hallmark they were decorating it for Halloween. Not kidding. Halloween. Stuffed cauldrons, plush witches, ceramic pumpkins, all sorts of All Hallow's Eve brick-a-brac.

It is three months, MORE than three months to Halloween. This is just obnoxious. I mean, could we sport a little 'Back to School' and then some 'Fall' before we break out the candy corn?

I am picking up Morrigan and then heading to NYC to celebrate the birthdays of Ruth and Brooklyn. We will make merry, maybe take in a museum, definitely hit the beach and take in a Yankees game. Clearly I will be rooting for the Twins. I am going to try and work up a post or two to leave you while I am gone. I won't be back until Friday, but I am sure you will survive without me. :)

Pepe Be Gone

Every night I have a visitor.

He is very ardent in his pursuit.

Somewhere between ten and two he appears on my front lawn and makes his presence known.




I feel much like the poor cat in this picture. Nearly every night Monsieur appears beneath my window proffering his bouquet of stench. The scent is enough to make my eyes water. It can wake me from a sound sleep.

I have seen this skunk. In fact, I saw it last night when I was walking home from Darcel's place. It's oddly white, like 80%. From a distance you could tragically mistake it for a cat.

Oh how I wish he would go away. Far, far away.

*The photo is from here.

Fireworks - Not For You, Massachusetts, Not For You!

Most I really love living in Massachusetts. It's pretty liberal, there is a big city, beaches, good chowder, skiing, lots of state parks, fall foliage, the Red Sox and more. However, sometimes this place is so effing uptight that you can not believe it. The Yankee blood runs true- conservative, puritanical, no-fun, doom and gloom reign here on the Fourth of July (and select other moments).

Did you know that in the state of Massachusetts every single kind of firework is illegal. Every kind! You can't even light a sparkler or a black snake* for the love of Pete! No lie. A BLACK. SNAKE. Um, the most benign firework ever. If you lose a finger or toe lighting one of these I gotta say that's Darwin at work and leave it at that.

What kind of state says that you can't light a sparkler? I get maybe advising us not to, or reminding us to put down the beer while we light up the black snakes, but exactly how incompetent do you think we are? We can really decide if we want to lose our fingers all by ourselves, so could you butt out, Massachusetts? A few PSAs regarding the dangers and some good limitations would really be just about enough.

Honestly, I don't need my neighbors to be armed with professional grade fireworks. I don't want to stay up all night listening to some moron's unending supply of crappy fireworks whistle, bang and sizzle. But I would kinda like to be allowed one box of multi-colored sparklers. I'm old enough. Seriously. I can manage it.

OK, kids, you have fun and stay safe out there. If you live anywhere but here, you light up a sparkler for me. Don't lose any fingers in the process, please. Remember, put down the beer, then light the sparkler...

*Please watch that Black Snake Firework video- a dad yelling 'Flaming pooping trio!' while the toddler giggles and the mom goes, 'eeeeewww, that's grooooos'. Classic. If that's not family fun, on America's birthday what is??

Hard Day = Clean Apartment

Yesterday was a totally crappy day. A company that owes me money is pulling the 'revenue stream issues' and 'tough times' line. Right. So, for work I have already completed you will not pay. Great. They assure me that they really will pay me. Someday. Not so helpful for say, today.

My reaction was a moment of hysteria and then I grabbed some cleaning implements.

Really. Cleaning stuff. What is the matter with me? When faced with emotional crises, those which I can't change and that make me nuts, I clean.

I got out the Windex and went to town on the windows. The baseboard radiators are shiny and dust free. The baseboards, spotless. The pollen that once decorated my windowsills? Goners! Loads of laundry, a reorganized closet, a freshly made bed.

So I'm an emotional wreck. But hey, my apartment is spotless!

*Helmet image proof positive that I've always been a little crazy and that a helmet is always a handy accessory.

Olympic Trial Idiots

Dear Morons Sitting Behind The Still Rings (and a few others),

Yes, you.

Look, if someone has worked their whole damn lives to reach the Olympics could you show some respect? You look like you can barely make it up the stairs to your seats, so I doubt you know the effort that these young men and their entire families have made to get here. But really, use your small brains and try and work it out.

They (and the rest of America) don't need to see you waving, making faces, shaking your asses and letting your obnoxious four-year-old monkey dance for the cameras. Did you get lost? This is not a hockey game. Or a baseball game. Or a football game. It's the Olympic trials. This happens once every FOUR years. Could you pull yourselves together and sit still while these young men perform?

If you feel you must, then dance and mug for the camera during the million minutes that people are NOT performing. During the 60 seconds that these guys perform amazing feats of athletic grace and strength could you sit still?

I really wish I could reach through the television and slap you.

You've really done America proud, folks, really awesome.

Thanks,
Jess in MA