life is all about balance. which sucks for me, because i fall over a lot.
but for every horrible day, for every evil jerk-faced mean person there is a wonderful day and a delightfully kind person. well ok, i don’t know if there is an EXACT balance to these things, but let’s hope so. in my case today, things turned out pretty even-Steven.
some days you get stuck dealing with people you don’t want to. like the guy at work that keeps making innuendos about me, my boobs, the feminine persuasion. today he talks of unemployment, and that women can always fall back on that one career, so we’ll never really be unemployed, which he says to me with a sideways smirk. nice. i hope to god this guy doesn’t think he is flirting with me, ‘cause boy is he gunna be surprised when i sic the security guards after him. or use my feminine karate skills on his skull. let’s see who’s laying on their back NOW!
last night our heat went out. great time of year to have your heater go on the blink, the dead end of winter when it was all of 19 today. ugh. i come home to my sister after my day of cootie-filled men, obnoxious yellers, and ding dongs, and find that the heater guy never came back to fix the heater. crikies. she’s had to deal with him several times yesterday and today, and i was hoping it would all be done. not because i want the heat fixed (which i do! dang it’s cold!) but because this handyman gives me the willies. he’s creeped me out a couple different times, commenting on how cute i am, or how good i look today, or making talk like he thinks he’s funny or flirting or something vile. it’s happened enough times to make me uncomfortable, but he doesn’t irritate my sister.
and lo and behold, my happy moment. this guy is nowhere to be found. so while my sister runs off to HER job, i stay at home and wait for the OTHER creepy guy, who creeps out my sister but doesn’t actually bother me. he’s just got OCD (like me) and says things over and over and over and over again before he does anything. yeah, the heater’s broken. broken. broken. that’s fine, doesn’t phase me at all. at all. so we end up swapping creeps and we didn’t even plan it!
i love good luck. or creep swapping. well, both.
(i think i posted this the other day, but i didn’t see it, if it’s up i’ll delete, and sorry for being redundant!!)
These three words always set the mood for pondering, don’t they? Immediately we think of a famous, well beloved general lying on his deathbed, encouraging his soldiers to be stalwart with his last breath. Or maybe it conjures up sad romantic endings in your mind. The lovers parting at an airport, rain pounding the pavement, and he whispers out “We’ll always have Paris”. Damn. How am I ever going to get to see Paris if this old guy still has it? Stingy. But what are you supposed to call all the other words? All the funny sayings in between the long goodbye and the last goodbye? Take for instance my niece. She’s a beautiful young woman now, gorgeous, funny, kind, silly. She is interesting and curious and sweet. And yet she has so many good little sayings that I repeat in my head often, because they make me laugh. Like the time she was in the locker room with her mom after they’d had swimming lessons. She was probably only three at the time, and as they took off their swim suits, she looked up and said in a funny little frowny voice, “Them you’re boobs or sumpin?” She did very much want to be a cowboy at that age. Or a football player. Or ballerina. Then there was the time she was half scolding her younger sister. This might have been at the ripe old age six, when younger sister was asking about the difference between boy hardware and girl hardware. She was conspiratorial as she said to her mother, “Whew, it’s a good thing she didn’t use the F word.” “Hmmm,” said mom, curiosity getting the better of her, “and what word would that be?” “Fagina”. Ahhh, the stuff stupid sitcoms are made of, only funny. Funny enough that I tell all my co-workers this little story as often as I can, and sometimes total strangers. Like you. Because this is hilarious! But certainly not her last words. So what do I call these little, hilarious sayings I am bound to quote a thousand times before I die? “Famous last words of a child?” No, child isn’t dead. That sounds like the child is dead and those were the last words before death. “Funny words of a child?” No, that’s just stupid. Kids say the darnedest things sums that up better, and obviously that has been taken. Wait, some of you might be too young to know that was a famous book and I believe a TV series back in the day of black and white TV. Yes, television used to be black and white. God, didn’t you ever even look at your schoolbooks? Oh well, I guess I’ll have to work on this and come up with something unique and witty. Any suggestions?