random gripe

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If I close my eyes I can taste them . . .

If I close my eyes I can taste them . . .

because now I REALLY want gum drops.

I know the story says that those things are bad, but the picture looks soooo good.  I love sugar.  I love it.  I often keep cotton candy in my home for general consumption.   Sometimes I eat sugar out of the bag.  I’m cutting back on these things.  I really am.  My healthy eating plan (now in its 8th month) has made that sort of behavior near-impossible.  But damn, I had a Butterfinger Blizzard yesterday for the first time in years, and oh my god it was amazing.  It was 1.5 times the amount of calories and fat I am allotted per day, and it would take 4 hours of step aerobics to burn that sucker off (or you could spend that time running 6 minute miles instead).  So it’s up to you, go up and down one step, skip around it, over and back, knee around the world! or go about forty miles.  Your call.

I didn’t eat anything else for the rest of the night and did an hour of pilates today.

One of the best things I ever saw on a message board was a response to the question “How do I curb late-night eating?” – answer “Go to bed.”

So true.

Ok, now, I am 75 years old, but I’m also kinda pissed because I was typing that little anecdote about the message board and missed the final Jeopardy clue and the answer/question was Pangloss.  I could have totally felt self-satisfaction.  Then I would have charged to my bookshelf to reread Candide and lamented about how the translations just don’t do justice to the original French text.  Dammit.

Oh well, I shall not worry.  Tout est pour le meilleur.

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basically because nothing is happening.  I know my blog isn’t uber exciting in the first place, but NOTHING IS HAPPENING.  I have not been amused by anything that has popped up in my Google News (I’ve really tried to find the funny, then realized that I shouldn’t force the funny that much.)

Basically, these are the things I’ve been telling my friends about this week (poor souls):

  1. My inability to sleep at night
  2. My trip to the grocery store where everyone was (uncharacteristically) wholly obnoxious
    • Don’t tell me it’s hard to cut my meat the way I want it. Seriously? It’s your job to cut meat, and if you have one customer during the day that wants their meat cut the hard way, well, then that’s just your big challenge of the day. I know this sounds horribly mean, but you all have no idea how much grief I have received from deli staff. One lady in Maryland told me (with oh so much scorn) that the way I eat my ham is like baby food. Wow, seriously? The way I eat my ham is like awesome. Plus, it’s the way I’ve been eating ham all my life. I have been to the grocery store nine zillion times with my mother. She always gets her ham chipped (although apparently it’s really shaved so says the mean lady at my grocery store although I called a trusted butcher shop and they seemed to agree with the shaved, but again, my mother always said chipped to the deli folk). It was never a problem at home. This might sound dumb, but every time I order lunch meat I have to prepare myself for a debate with the deli staff. Ridiculous.
    • My checkout lady (in the ridiculous plastic necklace that I hope a kid gave her and she wears out of love and loyalty) took my canvas bags and put them down in the bagging area when the groceries of the Den Mother in front of me were reaching the end of the belt. I said, “Oh, ma’am? Ma’am, those are my bags.” She glares at me over her glasses, OVER HER GLASSES, and says in the most “holy-crap-you-obnoxious-pain-in-the-ass-how-dare-you-question-me?” tone, “I know.” That’s it. There are a good half-dozen alternatives that would have been good customer service, but she opted for the condescending snark. Then she went through the whole routine with the Den Mother – wherein the checkout person asks you if you need ice or stamps. Den Mother leaves, I’m up. I need ice. I waited to see if she would ask me if I need ice, or again, make a customer service shortcut as she’s already over-the-glasses peered at me. She didn’t ask me if I wanted ice. I told her I wanted ice, she made me repeat myself. I asked her if the ice was over there (point) and she just icy stared at me. Me (again): “do I get the ice from over there?” I’ve never bought ice there before and yes, it’s by the door, but there is also always a giant display in front of it. She was a meanie pants, and that was totally uncool.
    • The funny/best part of this, is back in the last place I lived, this would have been a great grocery store experience. As no one yelled at me, or pushed my cart, or glared at me when I brought canvas bags (then put them in plastic anyway THEN in my canvas bags, but I have higher expectations for service now.
    • I went back today and interacted with the cheese people who are really amazing, and they know everything, and once, I saw the short-haired lady open a box of crackers to give a sample to a shopper who was having a hard time choosing the best crackers for her cheese. I got a sample of their three new cheese (BEECHERS!). I sneezed and another shopper blessed me. I got free milk. The girl that helps you find the best checkout line helped me find batteries. There was no line at the checkout. The diet rootbeer was back. It was fantastic.
  3. How exciting I find the Shiner Family Reunion Twelve Pack. I’d never had Kosmos!
  4. That’s really it . . . so, yeah. It’s been like 102 everyday, so I’m not so into the activities right now. So lame.

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