A fist full of ibuprofen

Priorities, tough little decisions to make while you're obviously running late for work. At the rate I was going this morning I could make one stop. My brain cells, and you know they all don't work together up there, we've discussed this before, my brain cells mulled over whether to stop for Midol or a mocha. Tough decision like I said. I opted to wash down a fist full of ibuprofen and stop for the mocha.
This proved to be a bad decision, the mocha was good, but after my second fist full of the useless ibuprofen it was obvious I needed narcotics. And to make matters worse my brain cells completely forgot about my filter while bouncing around in there thinking of mocha and Midol. So the entire office, plus the shop guys knew I was in dire straights.

"Back away slowly and get me chocolate."
Actually it was kind of nice, no one bothered me and I got a lot of work done.

I scared the service manager and the parts guys offered me Vodka. Then we talked about ice cream, one thing led to another and we invented a PMS Blizzard, narcotics and chocolate laced with Vodka. If that doesn't get rid of cramps nothing will.

Securing my place in Hell

Sometimes you just want to eat your lunch without a deaf-mute stopping by your table grinning and shaking his head yes, trying to sell you a pen for a buck. Besides, he hit me up last week at Dairy Queen, I bought one that time. I had my lunch arranged on my table for one, and that's another post coming soon, the "everything has to be in the right spot before I can eat or I'll freak out post" and the deaf-mute appeared with his pens.
Gah! I'm having a really aggravating week, just give me 45 minutes to eat in peace. So I gave him a look and shook my head no, earning a special place in Hell for people who send deaf-mutes off penniless.
For sometime now I expected to be one of the people raptured, avoiding all the end of times Armageddon stuff. I don't have the stamina to deal with the anti-christ. I'm more of a loner and I'm pretty sure groups are going to have to be formed to deal with all the chaos that will ensue because of all the wrath a God commotion. Damn things were looking up for me until the deaf-mute starting making the rounds in the areas fast food joints. Ah jeez, he's probably been sent to weed us out. Save yourselves and buy a pen for a buck.

Muddy Paw Mania

I had to see this coming right?

New couches + gobs and gobs of melted snow = muddy paw mania

The dog has had a bath 5 days in a row and number six is about to happen as soon as she's done barking at the neighbors. The water's already filling up in the tub and Boy #3 is on stand-by. He carries her in with her muddy paws sticking straight out. Did I mention she hates water?
This a picture of her trying to look cute and innocent but we know she could stay out of the mud if she'd just focus. It's really not necessary to take off barking at every person, dog walker, skate-boarder, bike-rider, jogger and Jehovah Witness that .......... well maybe them, that walks by the house.
So Buckeye gets to stay outside longer than usual to terrorize the neighborhood but with a huge price to pay, dragged into the tub night after night. This is a dog that when she hears the tub water running, she hides. She refuses to put all four paws down in the water at the same time, one must always be out of the water.

I must break from my post to go catch the dog.

Buckeye tried to make a run for the hills, she pulled her lead out of the mushy, muddy ground.
"She's loose!"
"Huh?"
"She pulled her lead out and is headed for the street!"
"The dog?" Who else does he think we're keeping on a lead?
By this time I had my boots on the wrong feet and was out the door. I knew the easiest way to get her was to open the car door and ask her if she wanted to go on a car ride, but hmmmmm..... the mud. I opted for the step on the lead trick while the husband lured her in with biscuits, she's a biscuit whore.

All is well for now, she's in her little house pouting. She'll come out when she's hungry or dear God has to go out again.

After 8 new epic episodes, I get my brain back

But until then it will float like a screen saver ball, haphazardly banging around the inside of my skull, rendering me useless, unable to form an intelligent thought until I find out what's going on on that stupid island.
LOST has held my brain captive this season, the final season, the one we find out all the answers. It's going to be epic. We've already found out the smoke monster is "evil incarnate"..... cool. And it can take on the form of dead people, that explains a lot. Oh and Sayid is a zombie. He was dead for two hours and came back to life, you can't argue with me on this. He's already killed the cool Japanese guy and his interpreter. This zombie situation must be addressed immediately. We all know what happens when zombies are left to run amok. And it's really not the direction I'd like to see the show go in. They need to chop off Sayid's head.
As much as I have been looking forward to this final season, I'll be glad when it's over too. I want reasonable thoughts to flow through my head again instead of trying to figure out why Richard hasn't aged in like 200 years.

_____________________________________________

This is the latest excuse as to why I don't post often enough for Relax Max.

Ring-a-ding-ding-dong.

It's the best ringtone ever and I have it. The first time it actually went off on my phone I was at work with several co-workers in the immediate area. It was great, I jumped up and down, "Do you guys hear it? Isn't it awesome?" There was some eye rolling and I think someone called me a retard.

Ring-a-ding-ding-dong.

I answered it. It was my doctor. He could have told me I had three months to live and I would have been still giggling, maybe.
"I have the results of your blood tests, you're not a diabetic, your vitamin D levels are good and your cholesterol is fine."
"Wait a minute, last week you told me my blood pressure was 110 over 70 and now your telling me my cholesterol is fine? Somethings suspicious here. My parents have both been struggling with high blood pressure and high cholesterol for years and years."
"Ummm, we can do a DNA test next, find out who's you daddy."
"No, no I think it's best I confront those two, who ever they are, first."

Ring-a-ding-ding-dong.

My inability to communicate with the Asians continues

Oh, wow, sushi in a grocery store food court........huh, and with chopsticks. Someone's trying not to blend in with the rest of us lonely, grocery store lunch time losers.
I continued to eat my salad and cottage cheese while keeping an eye on the chopsticks. Yes, I was waiting for her to drop the raw fish, but she kept popping them in her mouth after dipping each of them in some kind of sauce. I have to admit, she had chopstick skills.
I was talked into trying sushi at a bridal shower a few years ago. I shoved the whole thing in my mouth, it was gross. I just can't get past the raw fish idea, I've seen raw fish before and smelled it. So I sat there chewing, wondering how to gracefully spit it out. That's when the video camera, manned by my nieces Asian friend, came by to ask me if I had anything profound to say to the future bride. She waited patiently with the camera trained on my face, as I just about swallowed the sushi whole.
"Water."
"So do you have any words of advice or encouragement for the bride?" Whoever started this tradition should be shot.
"I'm sorry, they (pointing to my in-laws) just made me eat sushi, it was awful."
Remember this is all on camera.
"Oh, I made that." The Asian friend of my niece said. "I don't think it turned out as good as it usually does, I was in a hurry, sorry."
"Water."
I think my niece got all the information she needed from me by then.

Egg McMuffins, Frankie the Fish and Impending Doom

Your day just doesn't get any better when you get out of the house at break-neck, time to stop for an Egg McMuffin, speed. You miss the school bus that has plagued your morning commute since September. The phone at work doesn't ring until you've finished the glorious McAwesomness. And then, the best part of the great day, is when the parts department decides that Frankie the Fish, from the "famous" McDonalds commercial has to be stuck on the wall for all eternity. It just doesn't get any better than that, really, a great day. Even with the latest snow storm looming in the distance, on it's way to slam Northeast Ohio.

The radio weather people explained the impending doom:
"Sounds like you're explaining nor'easter Jane."
"That's exactly what's happening here Dan."

I had my own video on my phone but I'm not technologically advance to get it on my computer.

I'm just here to observe

"Curling's on!"
Boy #3 was the first to join me, "Awesome, are we going to try to figure it out this time?"
"I don't think so. Remember how I told you I thought my brain was getting bigger?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that."
Boy #2 joined us, "Curling's on! Who's winning?"
"It looks like the Americans, their little flag in the upper left hand corner has 4 and the other little flag has 2."
"What inning are they in?"
"We don't know."
Girlfriend #2 sat down on the couch, "Is this the Olympics?"
"It's only Olympic Curling." We all rolled our eyes at the same time. "What's the object of this game?"
The husband got home just as we were about to try to explain rocks and sweeping.
"Curling's on!"
"Are they trying to slid that thing in the bulls-eye at the other end of the ice?"
"We think so, pretty sure."
"The sweeping...... I don't get it."
"We don't either. But look at them sweep, they're fast."
"Why are you watching this?"
"We can't not watch it, it's Olympic Curling."

For the next hour we sat mesmerized by the ice sweeping and the strategic slid of the "rock" sometimes called stones. Never knowing when the game was going to be over, never knowing who was getting a point or why - good times.

I was thinkin' Arby's

Probably I should have stayed at work Wednesday. But my car and I decided to drive sideways to Arby's for lunch. I have an emergency can of soup in my desk for such occasions, you know when it has been snowing non-stop for 24 hours and the roads are a mess and the frightened stay for lunch in the lunch room. But I wasn't in the mood for a can soup, I was thinkin' Arby's. Once that little outline of a Arby's hat pops up above your head you're screwed.
Either the snow plows were under-manned or they just gave up, decided maybe, "Oh just let them slide into a ditch, I don't care anymore." Because I slid like I haven't slid in a long time. Or maybe after years of driving my 4 wheel drive SUV and now this year have had an all-wheel drive compact car forced upon me, I'm out of whack and haven't got the feel of this thing I'm driving. I don't know how or why I ended up driving the car that was suppose to be the husbands but I am. It has a good CD player in it, so the tunes don't skip when I hit a pot-hole or, God help me, end up in a ditch on my way to Arby's.

Swearing like a drunken sailor first thing in the morning

Listen little Wendy's girl, if you're going to give me attitude when I order my lunch, you're gonna get it right back. Especially after the way my day started. Almost getting hit by a car right after I pull out of my driveway makes me cranky. I think she sped up when she saw me backing out. I think she was actually going to try to get around me. I hadn't had my mocha yet so the profanity spewed. I was even scared of me. If my mother would have heard me, she'd be calling an old priest and a young priest immediately.
So yeah, Wendy's girl, roll your eyes all you want, but you forgot the lemon wedge for the ice tea I've been thinking about all day. Stop what you are doing and hand it over.

New Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Blog Fodder

And there you have it, stop at the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes to pick up the husbands shirts and a post for your blog writes itself. I should go there every day. The previous owner was in the back and and saw me, "Hey, I remember you! How are they treating you here?" With the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude lurking near the big, giant, hot shirt press I answered, "They're treating me great."
Seriously, what else was I going to say?"
Back in the day when the ownership transition was made, I could have left for a dry cleaner that understood English, I didn't have a blog then so I didn't need them like I do now. But I decided to give the guy that looks like the Vietnam prison camp guard in a Chuck Norris movie a chance. It's proven to have been a good move. He still doesn't understand me but he can almost spell my whole last name. I walk in the door and he says, with his Vietnam prison camp guard in a Chuck Norris movie grin, "S..... E..... E....." I usually have nothing to say to that so I just smile at him like it's our little joke.
Seriously, what else can I do?
The previous owner said, "It's good to see you again."
The Asian woman said, "Have nice day."
The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude said nothing.
I left hearing the words from the previous owner commenting on me being an old customer and complimenting the none English speaking couple on keeping me.
I really hoped, as I got in my car that the Asians could differentiate the fact that I was an old customer, not an old customer.

I thought my brain was getting bigger

Occasionally, maybe once a week, I will sit by myself at McDonald's for lunch. This is the time I've set aside to think up something brilliant to post. Lost in my thoughts and my fries, fruit and walnut salad, a humongous ice tea with lemon and 4 sugars. From brain to hand the ideas flow out of me with astounding fluidity. It's really quite amazing. Until the first of the new year, I really thought my brain was getting bigger. But now my mind is stuck on remembering it's 2010. You'd think by now I could remember to write, type or even say 2010. This is a huge set back on my brain growing to genius proportion. What a drag. Even now while sitting in my McDonald's booth my concentration is strained, my eyes keep straying towards the word search game on my trays place-mat.
"Apple Pie" is right there, I should circle it. No focus."
The guy in the other booth is doing his word search. I heard him say to his lunch companion, "I found everything but Apple Pie."
"Doh!" How could he not see Apple Pie.

Peeing with Santa

"We never talk anymore."
"Mom......."
"No, don't mom me."
"It was nothing, really."
"You know I'm a humor blogger, you have a conversation with Santa Claus in the mens room and neglect to tell me.? It's unforgivable."
"I'm sorry, won't happen again."
"Exactly! How many people can say they pee'ed with Santa. You're going through life with blinders on kid. What did you talk about anyway?"
"He hates the beard, it itches."

I have ten cans of soup. All is right in the world.

With one storm system under our belts, we, the mighty Northeast Ohioans, await the second one. The weather channel, talk show hosts, local news crews, the UPS deliver guy and the truck driver at work promise us at least another half foot of snow, more in the snow belt, by the time we wake up tomorrow. According to all of those experts "it's going to be a mess."

If it's going to be a mess I'll want to stay in the house, I thought to myself. And then my next though was, I better get dog food. Because Buckeye has been peeing in snow up past her twat for over a week now, the least I can do is make sure we don't run out of dog food.
I knew we needed "lake effect snow" provisions but the only item that I could grasp, hold on to, and run with was the dog food. So I went up and down every aisle.

Pickles, the last time I looked for pickles at home I couldn't find any, I bought some. Ten cans of soup for $10.00? Deal. Oh look, they have 4 bottles of Diet Sunkist, the only diet pop the diabetic will drink, threw them in the cart. Poke'Mon macaroni and cheese, the boys will think that's so funny, three boxes, because we already have 5 boxes of the Sponge Bob ones at home. Wouldn't it be funny if I forgot the dog food? I high tailed it to the pet aisle and threw a bag of lamb and barley in the cart along with some braided raw hides. On my way to the registers I grabbed a box of donuts for the diabetic.

It seems quite a few people had the same plan as me, all the registers were open. Half of them have the self scanning technology and the other half cashiers. I can't self scan, it just never works for me. So I waited longer for a cashier and ended up getting scolded by the woman. Apparently I wasn't suppose to take the coupon off the Frito Scoops, she was. What kind of sense does that make when half the registers are self scan? Hmmmm? I really, really want to point that out to her, really. But I held my tongue, I barely made it through the Alberta Clipper storm system and now facing impending doom with a Lake Effect Storm on the way, why tempt fate? The dog is now sitting in front of a roaring fire chewing on her new braided raw hide and I have ten cans of soup. All is right in the world.

Can anyone spare $24.83 and provide a receipt?

So the husband and I sat down at another restaurant for dinner. I work full time now, I avoid cooking. This was the topic of our dinner conversation, the not cooking thing. Then the conversation took on a life of its own and we started discussing my receptionist career. "You know what I'm doing now?" I asked him. "They dumped the petty cash box in my lap."
The husband looked amused.
"It hasn't been reconciled since September."
His face lit up like a Christmas tree.
"It kind of got lost in the shuffle during the layoffs at the beginning of the year."
Then there was an honest to God, genuine look of interest in his demeanor.
And then we laughed a good 45 to 56 seconds. There would have been more laughing but our waiter came by to tell us the evenings specials. The baked ziti sounded good so I ordered it. When our waiter left the husband asked me, "What kind of bull crap have you been slinging around that office? I can straighten them out right now by showing them about six or seven old checkbooks you've screwed up over the years."
"I never put proficient in Math on my resume, I avoid all Math conversations around the water cooler. I even mentioned once that I hated Math and I know people heard me, I'm kind of loud."
"Really, I never noticed."

Now that the laughing stage is over and done with, I'm fast approaching the hair pulling stage, next will be the crying. I can't seem to find $24.83.
And I'm totally clueless on where to look for it.

I'm not one of those bloggers that just posts a video so they can say they posted, really

But I was on YouTube, because my Christmas shopping is going to get its self done, and I watched my one and only video I posted there again. I decided to share it in case anyone missed it. The two in the video say they are my kids, but I don't know who they are.

Fourth of July Picnic at Tattoo Tim's House 2009:

I think she's trying to communicate with me.

Never being an overly ambitious person throughout my 40 something years, I decided long ago that one language was enough for me. It's a decision I still stand by, it's a decision that has plagued me at the Scary Asian Dry Cleaners.
I learned last year that The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes co-worker, family member, whoever she is, that takes my seven ah twenty every week likes to be paid in singles, she loves them. She made it perfectly clear to me when I gave her a twenty and she saw the singles in my wallet, "You pay with dollah, you pay with dollah."
"But...........I...."
Smelling the fear she continued, "You pay with dollah."
"I need this for my son's lunch money." Everyone knows you can't give a kid a twenty and expect change back. I held my ground and she backed off.
My weekly language barrier continued Friday. Armed with singles, like I always have and forever will be, after the dollah incident, I dropped off my four shirt and picked up my four shirt. The only thing next was for her to tell me "Have nice day." We have a routine, little or no talking and we stick to the basics. But she started to talk to me. "Huh?" I had no idea what she was saying but she was pointing to my money and the cash register. "What?" If she's raising their prices she needs to learn a new sentence. "I don't understand." We both became frustrated, she ended the "conversation" by waving me off. I was dismissed.
As I walked to my car, with my head hung low (she didn't tell me to "Have nice day.") I tried to piece together the what had just happened. I'm still at a loss, well not a total loss. I'm pretty sure I might have stiffed her a buck.
Read my last post and tell me there ain't some weird karma going on.

From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Files part 27

Ahh crap. I stopped at the Dry Cleaners during lunch yesterday and the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude tried to stiff me out of a buck. With the economy in the tank and Christmas fast approaching like a run away semi-truck on an icy road, I had to point out the error. I helped him count back from $16.50 and the light came on in his eyes. Whether it was the light that meant,
"Oh I see now where I was wrong, thank you for being so understanding."
Or,
"I'm going to beat you over the head with my numb-chucks when you least suspect it, and it will be soon."
I'm not sure.
Someone remind me to send one of the children for the dry cleaning next week.
Aren't the Asian people a people of superior math skills anyway?
I left the dry cleaners with mixed emotions. Obviously I have untapped mad Math skills, but would I live long enough to put them to good use?

"The hell? Snow?" This is mildly annoying.

Thanksgiving Day the husband and I ran around from destination to destination in sweatshirts and this morning snow, ground covering snow. Damn. Why didn't I have a winter jacket on when we set out on our Thankgsiving Day? And when I say destination to destination, I don't mean schlepping from house to house with three kids in tow, eating dinner after dinner, we've been there, done that. I mean:
Handing the crock pot full of mashed potato's to the husband, I announce, "We have to stop at the store on the way to your sisters for maxi-pads."
He made a sound that I am unable to spell and said, "Can't you just....."
"I can't just do anything. We have to stop on this day of Thanksgiving, the day we say thanks for all of life's many blessing and stop for maxi-pads."
We have a short stare-down, "I guess we could pick up some pop, I guess."
"Yes, that's a good idea."
He's come such a long way over the years, maxi-pad talk use to scare him, now he's just mildly annoyed.

We live in Northeast Ohio, so at anytime of the year snow doesn't surprise me, it's just usually cold when the snow falls. Maybe I'm having hot flashes.

Wash your hands moron

If the world is being dumbed down to mass retardation, seriously, do I have to participate? Do I have to be on the list of people that need to be called on a "sleep in" Saturday morning to be reminded I need a prescription filled? I can tell the bottle is almost empty, any moron can tell when a bottle is almost empty. Gah! Do I really need to be reminded I need to make an eye appointment? I know when I can't see.

And don't get me started on the "swine flu" procedures. It's been drilled into my head since birth to wash my hands. But for some reason the world is compelled to remind me with every turn I make to wash my hands. Signs, signs everywhere signs.

Society, we weren't born yesterday, most of us, can we be treated like we have functioning brain cells? Like adults, perhaps?

Okay, I'm glad I got that off my chest. Now I have to go find my car keys.