Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew!

Baths. Are. Gross.

They say baths are relaxing. A nice, warm bath will help prepare you for sleep.

The only thing a bath is good for is sitting in your own filth. What, I should marinate myself for the monster under the bed? “Mmmm,” said the monster, “Uriah stew! Fresh from the tub, even!’

A Bit of Fall in the Summertime

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Between the agave nectar and the Brown sugar, this pie is sweet enough for even the most hardened sugar fiend. Although I think for the next berry pie I make I will certainly process and strain the skins out of the filling before baking. They’re a bit tough. Perhaps it’s from using frozen berries? Any advice from more seasoned pie bakers?

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Mmmmmmmm….Pie……

Despite what my dating history might suggest, I have a love for sweet things. Ice cream, cake, and, of course, a good fruit pie. And for the past year I’ve had an almost irresistible craving for blueberry pie.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to find blueberry pie in this town?

Frustrated wanting drives productivity, apparently.

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It was a simple recipe I found through a quick search. Not having white sugar I used Brown, and unable to find cinnamon amongst the myriad seasonings in my cabinet, I used pumpkin pie spice, so it’s a Summer pie with a lovely hint of Autumn.

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I haven’t baked a pie in years, so I made a few mistakes, but hopefully it will still taste as lovely baked as it did sitting in the bowl.  Even if it is a little dark around the edges.

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But aren’t we all?

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What do you people do on the weekends?

DUDE!

There are people EVERYWHERE!!!

It’s so strange…

I’ve become so accustomed to doing things during the week when there’s no one out and about because they’re all professionals and working and the like that being out and about while everyone is off is strange.  I feel awkward, like I don’t fit in anywhere.  Really, really awkward.  Like, that southern baptist kid at the school dance who’s not allowed to dance so they just stand against the wall awkward.

I don’t know where I’m supposed to be, when, or anything.  It’s like trying to do the Electric Slide while everyone else is doing the Boot Scoot & Boogy.

WHAT DO PEOPLE DO ON THE WEEKEND???

I didn’t think Hell existed until those two hours…

I had a rather frustrating day, and this was the very last thing I did.  This is what happens when you just throw someone into a place they know nothing about.

So a deaf and half blind lady walks into the store at about 11:45.  She has a $5 Bingo card.  You know, the new yellow ones with the extra bingo lines on top? That one.  She lets me know she’s deaf, hands me the ticket, and I validate it (scanned it into the machine and typed in the special numbers).  I tell her it’s $5 and ask if she wants another ticket.  She makes some strange-non-sign-language gestures and I think, “oh, she just wants cash,” and proceed to do the $5 lottery win on the register. As I try to hand her the $5 and ask her if she needs anything else she slams her hand on the counter, makes some noises, snatches the ticket from me, points rather vehemently at it, and throws it back at me. I make the confused face and hand her some paper and a pen. She picks them up and slams them back down and somehow managed to non verbally tell me it should be more than that.  So I try to validate it again and, low-and-behold, “previously paid by you”. So I show her the validation slips and the one that said it was the right thing, and she, again, starts gesticulating wildly and making noses. So I try to explain to her that the computer
is right and she is wrong.  She won’t have it.  So I try to get her to use the self-check-thingy, and she refuses.  So I actually go over the call numbers with her to show her why it’s only $5, and she refuses to believe me.  So now I have a line of 10 people and a rather upset deaf and half blind woman and everyone is extremely frustrated when she grabs the ticket out of my hand and tries to leave.  I start gesticulating wildly and yelling that she can’t do that and to let me call and see what I can do.

So I get out my cell phone (because god forbid we actually have a phone in this piece of shit store that’s actually hearing impaired friendly) and call the G-TECH hotline and start running the only other register we have to knock down the line. So now I’m trying to explain to a half deaf blind woman that her ticket is only worth $5, wait on ten to fifteen people, and explain the situation to the lottery Helpdesk people, all at the same time.  I finally get the line down and the lady transfers me to the local claim center, and I’m trying to explain the situation to the lady on the phone and she’s just not understanding.  She keeps saying, “I don’t understand what the problem is.  The computer says it’s a $5 winner, it’s a $5 winner.”

“Well, ma’am, the customer is saying it should be more than that.”

“How much does the player think it should be?”

“Ma’am, how much do you think it should be?”

So she starts making weird noises and using her not-sign-language-signing to tell me twelve.  No, wait, not twelve, $120. No, wait, not $120 but $130.

“Sir, what game is this?”

“$5 bingo”

“There isn’t a $130 on the $5 bingo.  Flip the card over and show her the winning increments and explain those are the only denominations this game plays out.”

Somehow in the midst of this conversation and being transferred, etc., I went from having no one else in the store to having  a store filled with people! And I’m not talking a line of 20, I’m talking boulder to shoulder, tits to back, all three aisles and the back wall,
people waiting to get in, more than 50 people, above my fire Marshall regulated capacity filled with people. THERE WAS A TEN MINUTE
WAIT!!!

So the player says to go ahead and wait on the customers and the lady on the phone lets me take up her time while I try to knock out this insane line BY MYSELF.  So I’m explaining, while waiting on customers, exactly what’s transpired so this woman knows exactly what’s been going on and why I had to call the claim center in order to have someone explain to me to explain to this player why she only won $5.

So now the line is gone, it’s just us again, and I flip the card over and show her that there is no $130 or $120 winning increments in this game and she starts making noises again and gesticulating and pointing and is almost on the verge of tears and the lady on the phone, in her thick Jersey accent, goes, “oh, you’ve got a real problem there, sir, a real problem.  I can see that now.  Let me call lotto and see if we can’t find a rep in your area to come and help you.  Just give me a couple of minutes.  I need your retailer number and your phone number.”

So I give her all this information while I’m writing down what she told me so this half blind deaf lady understands what’s going on.  It’s now 12:30 and the lunch crowd is there and I, once again, have three lines of about 10-15 people each and can only use the one register. Yay.

So the player is happy and content to wait, and starts going over the ticket again to see if she’s wrong and I start running THE ONLY REGISTER LEFT BECAUSE SHE WON’T LEAVE THE COUNTER AY THE OTHER REGISTER to try to get the lines down. Alone.

So my phone rings with an Austin area code and they tell me they didn’t get my retailer number and that they’re trying to find ANYONE in the area who can come help me.  FINALLY a lady calls me (some district manager) and we go over everything that’s happened and she tells me the woman HAS to take the money because no one else can pay it.  I explain that the woman will not take the money.  She wants what she thinks she won or the ticket.  So she tells me to take her to the self-check-thingy and show her that it’s only $5.  So I do this (walking between my line of thankfully only 10 people) and she is again vehement that it’s more than $5 and the machine is wrong.

So the woman tells me the player can go to the claim center and contest it, to give her the player copy of the validation and keep mine, separate, because she will eventually have to come back and get her money from us because NO ONE ELSE CAN PAY HER.  She goes, “I can explain it to her, of you’d like.”

“Well, ma’am, you see, the problem comes on with the fact she’s deaf.”

“Oh. No wonder this has been so difficult.  Ok, I’ll wait while you explain.”  (Note: I don’t think she meant that deaf people are stupid, just that there was a severe lack of communication.  I’m half deaf and wholly intelligent.)

So I write down all of this information and she starts using another pen and paper to already start arguing with me (I almost laughed about arguing on brown paper bags) and I tell her to hang on and let me finish writing it out.

“You can take the $5 and contest it at the claim center (this is where she started slamming and arguing again and I told her to wait and let me finish). You can also take the ticket to the claim center, however, NO ONE ELSE will be able to pay you. You would have to come back here to get your money.”

So that’s what she wants to do. So I get the address for her, give the retailer number, game number, pack number, and
ticket number to the lady on the phone, and then have to give my name, the store manager’s name, the corporate customer service number (because god forbid we actually have the store’s phone number posted by the registers where it belongs), explain that I’m not from that store, the store manager is on vacation, give her MY store number and my stores phone number.

And then it was almost 1:30.

Day 2 (okay, it’s day three, but I was busy on day two…)

So I previously posted about this new “getting healthy” plan from my insurance company and how I’m supposed to answer these stupid questions everyday for a week or so.  Today’s question:

Day 2:
My relationship to my body
“If my body could talk to me, what would it say?”

I think my body would say, “Damn stupid mother-fucker!  What the fuck have you been doing to us?  Is there some kind of reason you’ve been putting us through this horrible abuse for the past 20-something years?  You don’t eat right.  You smoke like a blown radiator on a cold day.  You don’t sleep nearly enough to keep me even slightly happy.  What gives?  What did I ever do to you?

“Oh, that’s right, I only make sure you’re lungs work (even though you treat them like shit…what kind of asthmatic smokes a pack or two EVERY FUCKING DAY?) and your heart beats and your food gets digested… Oh… Wait…  Are you pissed off because I refuse to be happy with eggs and milk products again?  Well too fucking bad you little shithead!  Daddy’s gotta get his revenge somehow, right?  You treat me like shit, I’m gonna make you feel like you’re gonna shit your pants every time you eat something that tastes even remotely good.  Don’t like it?  TREAT ME BETTER!

“Remember that ex you wish you’d treated better?  That one you wish had never gotten away?  I’m gonna be like that.  Now our spine’s fucked up.  You may or may not have had a myocardial infarction AT TWENTYFUCKINGTHREEYEARSOLD!  Haven’t you learned anything?  SLOW DOWN!  CALM DOWN!  Enjoy the ride we’re on.  Take care of us!  Eat better and exercise!  And for the love of all that is clean and fresh QUIT FUCKING SMOKING!”

At least, that’s what I think the world wants me to think my body would tell me.  I think it would simply say, “DUDE!  REALLY?  GET US FUCKING LAID ALREADY!”

Don’t Ever Get Older

Today I went to the beach. It was fun, I got a tan, and I allowed myself to have Burger King (EPIC FAIL!) which eas beyond mediocre, and not on the good side of that division. I no longer look unhealthily pasty and pale, and I even got to spend some time with family.

After the long drive and such an action packed day (which included, but was not limited to, sitting on a towel for about two hours), I was INSANELY tired when I got home and ate dinner, so I thought I’d go to bed. That’s when I discovered the computer had crashed, so I rebooted it, and started reading shortpacked archives on Dad’s while I waited for another virus scan to complete, and then made sure my computer was running, and fed the cats, and then I needed to wash my face and brush my teeth and all that other good stuff, and then got into a couple conversations on twitter and text and then I laid down and realized I was hungry because, guess what? Fruit cocktail is NOT the ideal “tide me over through my sleep cycle” food that I thought it would be, so I got up and made a veggie wrap and still felt hungry so I drank a bottle of water and smoked a cigarette and fiddled about on Twitter some more and was still hungry so I ate an ice cream cone and now I’m wide awake and don’t feel like sleeping.

And there’s something I’m forgetting to do, but I can’t remember what it is because OH MY GOD I’M GETTING OLD AND MY HAIR IS RUNNING AWAY, but it’s ok, because now I can do this all with a sexy tan.