Have You Seen Lidia? Lidia the Tatooed Biker

OK, I am the 1st to admit, I am old. and while I like to listen to all sorts of music, I tend to have older stuff on my mp3 player. It's not that I don't like anything new, it's just that I am a creature of habit & well, as you know (if you know me), I really like to sing along with things I listen to. You can't do that for songs you don't know! huh...this may actually be why people play songs I don't know...I think I am on to something!

ANYWAY...I was out with a friend last night and we decided to play some tunes on the juke box. This friend is about a decade younger than me (I had to explain what a Wurlitzer was to her...young pup...) and such a sweetie. I felt bad as I was making my selections, "she's not going to know or like half of these songs...they were made before she was born..." But, we were in a pub ~ you have to play a certain type of song in a pub!

We made "our" (my) selections and almost immediately, some biker guy came over to select some music. This guy was wearing a black leather vest and t-shirt to show off the copious amount of tatoos up & down his arms, and had a shaved head~ complete with a tatoo on his skull.

Since we were next to the juke, I was being typical me & making snarky comments to him. "Don't be trumping my songs!" (with these new fangled jukes, you can pay more to have your song play next). We were then mocking his selections. "You don't scare me with your tatooed head. I could still kick your ass."

He laughed and snarked back. I can't say his selections were any better. Come on. What man over the age of 30 would select Pussy Cat Dolls, Katy Perry, and Britney Spears? Clearly he was a poofter.

We hung out until our songs played and then once Lidia the Tatooed Biker's songs started, we motored ~ 'cause I am old and it was 11pm, after all! Plus, I had 44 oz of beer and wanted more. Figured it was better to leave!

And for your Muppet viewing pleasure: Kermie singing "Lidia the Tatooed Lady":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlkFmtr9fyE

It's Amazing Where Grass Will Grow

In the 90's, I lived in Australia with a FABULOUS family as an exchange student. Close to the end of my stay, we took a family trip down through the Murray River Valley, to Victoria, along the Great Ocean Road, and back up through to Canberra, then home.

It was a great road trip. I was very lucky. It was required for them to take me on this trip. I don't think I could ever express the depth of my gratitude to my family.

A few days ago, someone sent one of those forwards that gets sent to you 50 million times. I opened it and there were a few cute photos, but the one that made me smile was similar to the one here. It is of the Twelve Apostles. These structures are along the Great Ocean Road. That's pretty much all they are...twelve rocks. Most Americans are familiar with a beach near here too - Bells Beach. Think Patrick Swazye, Keanu Reeves, Nixon & Reagan masks...it's "the" beach at the end of the movie.

For me, when I see the Twelve Apostles, I remember how rainy & chilly it was for that trip. Most of all I remember Mum standing there looking out over the vast sea at one of the Apostles and saying "it's amazing where grass will grow."

Isn't it weird how a simple sentence like that can stick with you for so long?!

I don't get it?

I just don't get some people...I watched a few people return carts to this cart corral. Good for them, better than leaving it out in the parking lot, waiting like a predator for a new paint job to attack, a new fender to dent.


What I don't get is that this corral is equidistant to the front of the store. Actually, I believe it's even closer to walk the cart all the way into the store than from where I watched these people walk the cart to...

I try not to use these unless it makes too much sense ~ like if I am parked right next to it. It might stem from my experience working in a grocery store where we had people (Baggers) to take the groceries out. We just rarely had carts in the lot. We also had "tunnel vision" where we were expected to not only focus on the patron, we were meant to do it politely. Not really a requirement at Meijer & WalMart...or Martin's (the local supermarket chain), depending on the store in which you are shopping.


I was recently flying (whoa, you don't say?!). This time, I had to use an airline I typically don't fly on. It was less than a great experience. It was compounded by the fact that they didn't get my bag in on time. I had missed my connection in Chicago ~ it didn't make sense to stay in Chicago for the night, so I rented a car and decided to get my bag the next day.


Before I left Chicago, I verified that my bag would be sent to South Bend (it would). I verified the flight it would be on. I was told if it wasn't on that flight, they would deliver it to my house.


I go to the local airport an hour after the bag should have arrived. It wasn't there. The VERY NICE fella that just started (not jaded by the BITCHY boss that he has) filled out the paperwork so that my bag would be delivered. He needed to verify the form (he hadn't been trained on them yet) was complete.

The manager looked up in my direction and said something snotty followed by "she'll just have to wait." Hmmm...I was actually in a carefree friendly mood. Tired, but understanding that these things happen ~ I was just happy to be home. Why did she assume I was being snotty?

15 minutes later, she stopped over and without looking at me, without any sort of greeting what-so-ever, she starts barking "facts" at me.

Nasty South Bend United Manager (yes, I am being passive aggressive and naming names, but she was not nice!): "So, you CHOSE to not take the scheduled flight? Whose FAULT was it that YOU missed YOUR flight?"

Me: "Hi. How are you?"

Nasty Lady sneers - still doesn't look up continues after she does a dramatic snort/cough combo indicating that I was being difficult: "It is not our fault you CHOSE to not take your flight."

Me: "Hello. How are you?"

Nasty Lady finally looks up with a look that wouldn't kill, but could inflict some superficial injury. Still no greeting and continues on with whatever she was blathering about. I stopped listening. I did not like her. She was mean and icky.

After stating that it was their fault that I missed my flight and answering all of her snide comments and snitty questions, I stated something like the following: "Wow. You really hate your job, huh? Not once have I blamed you or your airline for the things you are copping a 'tude about. All I want is my bag. It was not on the flight that I was told it would be on. I was told that, if that were to have happened, you would deliver it to me. There really is no reason for you to be snitty."

She didn't like that either. She decided to go to the back to do whatever it was she needed to do.

When she came back, she says "As a courtesy, we are going to deliver your bag."

I said thanks, but laughed as I did. She looked at me with irritation bubbling up to her eyeballs. I think she was hoping I would get lippy with her to justify her attitude. I say, "I think you need to look up the word 'courtesy' in the dictionary...or have your new hire show you what it is ~ they seem to have a better idea of what that is."

Amazingly, I still got my bag.

Happy Birthday, Puppy!

September 13th was my friend Jill’s, my brother’s and my dog’s birthday.

Yes, I know my dog’s birthday. I didn’t get her on her birthday, that was more like November 3rd, 1999. The picture was taken on our way home from “Grandma & Grandpa’s” house this week. She rarely relaxes in the car. She looked peaceful and beautiful, so I had to take a picture.

She was so cute. 6 pounds of pure fluff. She also chose me. Mom & Dad were in town. Dad was installing a disposable shower in the basement of the house I was renting. Mom & I decided that we’d help by going shopping.

I was only a few blocks from South Bend’s Farmer’s Market. It’s not too bad of a market. I have seen worst. I enjoy going to get fresh cut flowers and/or perennials. In the autumn, I am all about the apples & cider too. This autumnal day, as we were meandering through the market, we encounter a guy with 3 puppies. I had moved into this rental for the specific reason of getting a dog. I made sure the Landlords were dog-friendly before signing the lease.

I wanted a boy dog. Girl ones are, well…lets just say there is a reason the term for female dogs is used negatively. I also wanted a golden retriever.

Of the 3 dogs, 2 were male and one was golden retriever-like. Yeah, it wasn’t one of the boys…darn it. I see the golden-like one squirming and snipping. Total wiggle-worm. I took her from the little girl that was just about ready to drop her. The darn thing curled up in a ball, tucked her nose in my cleavage and fell asleep. The man declared that I must take this dog, as she hated everyone else. Sure…uh huh…nice try. “Seriously,” he said “hand her to anyone.” I did as asked. Wriggle-pup showed up again. This time Mom picked the little fluff ball up. Snuggled with her.

OK, so maybe he was telling the truth. I took the puppy back and sure enough, she cuddled with me. I looked at my Mom & she gave me this all-knowing look and asked “So, what’s her name?” The yet-to-be-named puppy then lifted its little head up and licked my chin. *Heart melting*

She chose me.

We get home and go to the basement. I put “little 6 pounds” down and let her walk over to Dad. He just rolled his eyes. He loved her instantly too, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

She wasn’t named for a few days. Mom came up with some dorky names – Maple is the one that I recall. No, she’s not a Maple… My friend Jess was over & the Simon & Garfunkle song came on; Little-No-Name actually reacted to that song. She liked Cecelia. She apparently likes to be named after some hoochie mama that invited other men up to some guy’s bedroom (really, go listen to the song: “…up in my bedroom. I got up to wash my face, when I come back to bed, someone’s taken my place” – they were in HIS bedroom!).

As I sit here in my living room, I am watching my puppy sleep. She just had a bath. And as much as I love her, I cannot deny that she really smells bad – even after a bath.

Mostly, I remember that she chose me.

Happiness is a Mown Lawn

There is something so gratifying about seeing those lines after you have mowed the lawn!

It is so short lived too, but for the day or two that they are prominent, it gives such a sense of accomplishment.

My neighbor, God bless her, is psychotic about her lawn. Today, while I was mowing the front. she was out there. I thought she was finishing up, but nope. Even though it didn’t need it and you could still see the track marks, she was out there getting ready to mow.

With here, it’s an art really. She uses the leaf blower first and picks up all the leaves. Then, she gets out the big honkin’ push mower, complete with mulcher and bag. She makes certain to line the wheel marks up from the last time it was mowed. I think she does it so she doesn’t lose her place (or if she does skip a row, you’d never know…)

It looks beautiful, but I still don’t get why she pre-blows it with the leaf blower when she has a bag? The lawn is dense enough that the leaves aren’t trapped down in the grass, so I just don’t get it.

I also feel sorry for her. I have this lovely view of their uber-manicured lawn & she has to look at my hillbilly/ghetto-tastic yard. Now, it has come a long way from where it was, but it’s still nothing spectacular. Tough to prioritize on where to spend the limited funds on a single income. So, for now, I do my best to keep it clean & neat. Some day, I may have the time and energy like she does, but for now…I think I’ll just take a nap.

(did anyone start singing "Happiness is a Warm Gun" when they read the title?)

Hehe...seems even technology gets lonely (desperate...horny...) sometimes...

Ain't That America...

I love the fact that Lady Liberty gets to stare at a Costco & IKEA on the dilapidated shores of Queens.

Anyone else wonder...

if its the same piece of plastic spinning around and around?

Stowage

Amongst the commoners...

eww!?

And it seems that Mike also got really tan too.

Airports...

apparently everyone's garbage can...

They are Pretty, but...

I bet they get really dirty really quickly. I wonder who has to clean them off?

I Keep Giving Them a Try

And they keep disappointing.

I am an avid Hampton Inn & Suites goer. Every once in a while, I have to choose another hotel & I try to keep it in the family. Doubletrees are my next favorite. Hilton Garden Inn & Hilton's themselves...not so much.

My 1st HGI stay was in Saratoga Springs. Fail. Elevator broken, emergency exits/stairwells closed for painting, room not ready, no water in room once it was ready - how can you clean a bathroom w/out turning on the faucet?- service recovery non-existent (..."here, have a free breakfast..." OK, I am overweight, but do I really look like I need 3 free all-you-can-eat breakfasts in one morning?)

I tired another & it was OK, but not really impressed.

I am in one right now. It started out OK. Then, I notice that the towels in the bathroom are caked with toothpaste.

It just makes you question the cleanliness of everything...then I found a barrette on the floor...and in the breakfast area, the counter was all sticky. Just yuck.

Tonight, I went to go soak in the hot tub (my back went out...yay). Yeah, yet another fail. Room temperature hot tub. I actually had to get out because I had goose bumps. Goosebumps! In a hot tub! I went back to my room and the shower wouldn't warm up either. Bad water pressure too.

Boo. Don't you feel sorry for me?

maybe it's me?: How Have I Missed This?

maybe it's me?: How Have I Missed This?
http://something-i-noticed.blogspot.com/2009/09/theres-ladys-version.html

Enigma

I love that my friend wasn’t bothered by the large tattoo, or septum ring that the guy driving the Lincoln (really?!) had, but by the fact that he didn’t have arm hair.

Word Tree...Fairly Cool!

I have this habit of using words that are close to what I really want, but sometimes, miss the mark. At times, I miss the mark by using a word that is close in spelling, but very different in meaning. Sometimes, I get close to the meaning I want, but just don't get it all the way there, for example, I mean indigent, but for some reason can't pronounce it, so I end up saying indigenous...a little different! Other times, it's probably due to laziness in searching for the correct word.

I was just trying to determine whether or not I am intolerant or just annoyed and I came across this neat application ~ I plan to play with it plenty.

And, in case you are wondering, I am annoyed, not intolerant.

How Have I Missed This?

More importantly, how have I survived without it?

*Shakes Head, Moves On*

I have recently posted a few things that required trips to the ED, and a few others that probably should have included a trip to the ED…

There are a few others too – like when they had to rush me to the ED from work because I couldn’t breathe due to chest pain.  Not a good feeling, especially since I have a heart condition. That ended with a diagnosis of pleurisy.  Or when I was walking – just walking – and my ankle rolled and swelled to the size of a cantaloupe. Until my friend witnessed that event with her own eyes, I think she thought I was doing these things to myself for attention.

Needless to say, with every event, my boss would just walk in to the office, look at me, get the low-down, shake his head, and walk on.  At one point he made the comment “you know, if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t believe them, but somehow, with you, I do.”

I think historically, if things like this happened to someone, they’d be using it as an excuse to cut out of work, but eh, not me.  I think because of that, he trusted that I was a loyal employee, a weird one, but loyal none-the-less.  I am like a loveable entertaining accident.  From his perspective, none of it was able to be turned on under workman’s comp too ~ so he didn’t need to worry!

These things are part of who I am and even though there was a great deal of pain associated with the event, the stories are quite often entertaining to relay, at least.  SO, they happen and I move on.

I think part of why I embrace the nonsense that infiltrates my life is due, in part, to something my homeroom teacher told me in 7th & 8th grade.  We were playing kickball and I Charlie Browned it.  I TOTALLY bit it.  There I am, flat on my back in front of all my classmates.  I busted out laughing.  She told me something to the effect that she was so proud that I was confident enough to laugh that off, many wouldn’t.  Who knew?

The only problem with having so many ED visits in a short time  ~ and switching EDs to boot, I was put on a “list.”

On my last trip to the ED I had a social worker come in my room.  I didn’t realize who she was or why she was there at first. (BAD PATIENT SAT! ALWAYS INTRODUCE YOURSELF! COMMUNICATE COMMUNICATE COMMUNICATE!).

Social Worker: So, you are single right?

Me: yep

Social Worker: No boyfriend?

Me: nope

Social Worker: Roommate?

Me: Nope.  No. And thanks for making me feel like a dateless loser.  Want to discuss my weight now too?  How about my dead grandfather?

Social Worker: uh…

Me: Wait…I know why you are here!!  Oh, no.  I think my house is just possessed.  Either that, or there is black mold in the house. No one is abusing me.

She told me she was required to ask me a few other questions “just to make sure.” I think she was really glad to be out of there. I don’t think she knew how to take my sense of humor. Must be a tough job walking into those rooms ~ not knowing what may result from it.  At least the case was closed on me.