The Pizza Man Always Rings Twice

Or, rings then knocks.

I don’t know why but it annoys the hell out of me when someone rings your doorbell and then follows up immediately with a loud knock. It’s like I didn’t get my ass to the door soon enough for their liking. I just find that incredibly rude, especially when it’s someone ringing my bell unsolicited. If it’s food delivery or UPS - something that I ordered- that’s one thing. Annoying but tolerable. But when you are ringing my bell to sell me something, don’t be a double asshole by doing the ring-knock combo. That’s just jackassery.

Cars I Hate

I’m not sure why I felt the need to do a whole blog post about vehicles that I hate. But then again, when you are trying to blog EVERY SINGLE DAY for a year, you start to run short on meaningful content. I’d say I passed that point about three months ago. Plus Helen wrote a post the other day about first cars so maybe that’s what gave me the idea.

Today sitting in the car, I noticed that I’d been seeing a bunch of these cars lately and I really really dislike the look of them.

The Infiniti EX35:

I can’t quite explain why I hate it. In this picture, it doesn’t look so bad. But the rear end of it just reminds me of the Batmobile, but in a far less cool way.

Now this next one, I think everyone hates. I’m not even sure why this car exists, except for people to pretend they are open-minded about car aesthetics because this thing is one not even a mother could love. This is the Scion xB

This will be widely unpopular, but I really hate the new VW Beetles. I know, I know. That’s like saying you hate candy. The old ones were kind of cool and I like to see the old ones that have been cared for that are still on the road. But the new ones just - blech. Completely impractical. It really bugs me (no pun intended) to see them with flowers in the little vase.

But far and away the car I hate more than all others is the PT Cruiser. It annoys me so much that when I see one on the street, I am so annoyed, it puts me in a bad mood. I just think this thing is absolutely ridiculous. I’m not sure what this car says about the person who willingly drives it, but it can’t be good.

Does anyone else out there have such visceral reactions to cars on the street? Which ones do you hate or love?

Remember When It Used To Be A Secret?

Y’all, I have simply had it with Victoria’s Secret. It seems lately that the only women they employ are gum-snapping, text-messaging teenage airheads whose boyfriends think it’s sexy that their girlfriends get to buy thongs for 50% off.

Remember when it used to be a quiet, serene, softly-scented place that only women dared to enter? Even on a weekend, when the mall was lousy with people, men respectfully waited outside with the kids in the strollers. Not now, though.  Men have no compunction whatsoever about standing around amidst the previously unmentionables with the kids fresh from their soccer games, barely trying to restrain the kids as they run rampant through the stores. The place reeks of all the different scented lotions and candles they sell. The lighting is harsh, all the fixtures are white or black. In short, it’s simply an unpleasant experience to enter a Victoria’s Secret store these days. I thought I was the only person who felt this way. But the other day, Karin and I popped in together because we both needed something. After looking around for less than five minutes, we beat a hasty retreat. Not only were the items we wanted not easily found, but the atmosphere was so unpleasant that we couldn’t stand to be in the store long enough to find them. And after having been initially greeted by the annoying teenager, we did not see another employee again.

I’m not shy about the fact that I wear a bra. I don’t expect the store to have a “no men allowed” policy. But what did the do to change the atmosphere to something that is the retail equivalent to Las Vegas?  I’m not saying they shouldn’t hire teenagers. But why don’t they have dress codes and codes of conduct for all employees that makes it seem less like you’re stepping into an Applebees?

I just want there to be one last bastion of femininity, a sacrosanct place where my panty preference is not announced to everyone within earshot of the registers as the associate tries to oversell me - “You know these V-strings are 3 for $15? You sure you don’t want to pick up a couple more?”

From now on, I’ll be buying my undergarments at a department store. At least at the department stores, they have the good sense to put the lingerie departments near the housewares and baby clothes, the places men fear to tread anyway.

We Got Snot

I wonder if you are all as tired of reading about my poor sick baby as I am living with my poor sick baby? The word of the week is GRUMPY.

But now we also have snot. Snot in quantities I can’t even understand. She’s one. Her sinuses cannot hold that much, so where is this all coming from? We’ve been using the humidifier in her room the past few nights and I guess it may be providing relief from stuffiness which I know would be way worse. Last night she was a bit stuffy I noticed so I had Jake prop up one end of her crib using two of my college yearbooks. I knew those mammoth volumes would come in handy some day. I have also used them to weight the bottom of a very unsteady clothing rack in the past. Seriously if your kid wants you to buy them a college yearbook and they attend a large school like I did, just offer to buy them some free weights or a load of bricks instead. They are just as useful. But I digress.

And of course the child screams like you are trying to kill her if you attempt to get near her with a wiping object or the nose de-squicker. I can’t imagine it’s pleasant to have someone suction the snot out of your nose, but until you can be taught to blow your own nose, it’s not like there are many other options. Babies are so illogical.

Hee hee. I can hear her snoring through the baby monitor now. What a little old man she is.

If we can find a commercial use for baby snot, we will be rolling in the dough in no time flat.

Random Note to Blogger Users:  For some reason, Blogger has decided to not allow anyone to enter a URL along with comments. I don’t use a Blogger ID for my comments for various and mysterious reasons. They say there is some Open ID thing that you can turn on  to allow that. Just in case you wonder who the random “donna” is posting on your site - I can’t leave my URL but it’s probably me!

Lesson Learned

Y’all know how when Jake travels the shit hits the fan around the house, so to speak? I’ve had broken garage doors, a car broken into, overflowing toilets, broken gates….. Now every time he is packing and preparing for his trips, I look around the house and try to see if anything gives me a clue that it might decide to give me problems while he’s away. I’m not above making Jake climb up in the attic at 1 a.m. to replace a furnace filter.  But usually the stuff that goes wrong is not anything I can predict. And this time is no exception.

Our cable company decided to “upgrade” their digital menuing recently. I personally don’t find it to be much of an upgrade. Especially because, and get ready for this, fellow television-ophiles, the download of the new menuing LOST 48 HOURS OF OUR RECORDED PROGRAMMING.   It’s just gone. Well, I take that back, it’s there, you can tell on the recorder status. It’s just not accessible. I’ve spent literally hours on the phone with them and there is just not much they can do. They insist that something must have happened during the download to interrupt it and that caused the problem. Whatever. How about if you had warned people of your impending “upgrade” and the possibility that programming could be lost if conditions were not perfect, I might not have lost all this stuff? We might have cleaned it out. We might have watched it had we known it was important to do so at that time. But now it’s gone.

I considered yelling and demanding reparations, but really, what can they do? It’s a TV show. It has no value. And honestly, if I am this annoyed by losing a television show, then I guess I need to take a long hard look at my life, don’t I? It’s just TV. It doesn’t matter. In 20 years will I remember whether I saw those last two episodes of Life and Chuck? No. I probably won’t even remember those shows existed no matter how much I like them right now.

It turns out the problem was probably our DVR to begin with so they are coming today (priority appointment without me having to ask!) to bring and install a new box. Hopefully this won’t happen again but I think my lesson here is to not get so attached to stupid things that mean nothing. I enjoy TV. I admit it. I don’t think there is anything wrong with it. But when it adds stress to your life, then maybe it’s time to cut back.

Maybe I’ll finally finish that craft project I started weeks ago for Bridget’s room and get that up before her first birthday. That might be a good use of my time.

Well, Since You Asked….

Jessica asked in a comment for me to elaborate on my personal stance on the Christmas letter that many, many people send out each year with their holiday cards.

I want to preface this by saying it is my own personal opinion here. I don’t believe this to be a matter of etiquette really and I don’t judge. Well, unless you send them to me, then I have every right to judge.

I am not a fan of the Christmas letter in general. I don’t know anyone who, in their heart of hearts, actually enjoys reading those things. Because they are lame. Either you know the person well enough that you know all the stuff they are talking about in the letter, or you don’t know them well enough to care.

I would like to move on to the pre-printed photo cards for a moment. And I will tell you that I HATE THEM WITH THE HEAT OF A THOUSAND SUNS. And here’s why. First of all, they are terribly impersonal. If you can’t even be bothered to sign your friggin’ name on the card, then please by all means, take me off your Christmas card list. I actually have a friend who chose this method, a line on her pre-printed holiday photo card, to announce her second pregnancy. My ass clenches even now just remembering that. Secondly, most people use a picture of their kid(s) alone or with Santa or something. If I get a card from a friend, I’d like to see my friend. Not just my friend’s kid(s). Put a picture of the whole family. That’s what gives me warm holiday fuzzies - seeing the family together. I like them even better when they aren’t the studio type photos with the staged arrangement of people in their uncomfortable holiday dresses with fake smiles plastered on their faces. My friend in Connecticut sends the best holiday cards and I’m totally going to take a page from her book this year. She gets those cards that you can attach your own photo to, so that the picture is the front image, but you have actual card in there to write on. And she uses the best pictures! Yes, they do tend to be only of her children, although she has used beautiful family photos before, but she has the most adorable children in the world and the photos are always cute and funny rather than posed and fake.

Not that I have an opinion, of course.

On a completely unrelated note, did you know that you can buy a fresh Maine balsam Christmas tree from LL Bean? I am really thinking about doing this. I honestly think that we’d pay close to $75 anyway for a tree, and they have free shipping so why not? And considering the dud trees we’ve had the past few years, I’m willing to try something new to ensure by Christmas Eve the tree doesn’t look like the one from the Charlie Brown Christmas special.

Where’s My Easy Button?

Earlier I got in the car with Bridget to head to my parents’ house. (My dad made pasta complete with his incredible homemade meatballs — I’m still drooling.) Within fifteen seconds, I realized I was very low on gas, my cell phone battery was low as was the battery in my iPod.

Aren’t there gnomes that are supposed to take care of these things?

Everyday Italian My Ass

I’m watching an episode of Everyday Italian on the Food Network. I’ve never watched this before, as I don’t tend to watch this channel, but I’m stressed and bored and Clean House on Style is a repeat I’ve seen a zillion times.

This chick annoys me greatly. The little accent she uses when saying things like “ricotta” and “stratta” makes me want to smack her. And when they show the little snippets of her shopping for food, why do they play porn music? I guess somewhere some really fat person is masturbating to her shopping for cheese and mushrooms. “Oh yeah, that’s it….. sniff that block of parmesan… oh yeah baby….”

And honestly, I don’t believe this woman has ever eaten a full meal in her life, much less an Italian meal. Ever seen that kitschy little sign that says “Never trust a skinny cook”? There is some wisdom in that. This stick person probably purges at every commercial break.

Can you tell I’m in a really pissy mood?

Generation X Sells Out?

First it was The Violent Femmes song “Blister in the Sun” used in a Wendy’s commercial, albeit without words, because really the world is not ready to associate masturbation with stuffing one’s face with fast food, although it’s not a big leap to make.

But now The La’s song “There She Goes” being used in a Bali commercial? Where does it end?

I guess this is nothing new and will likely only get worse as we get older. I always wondered why my dad was so annoyed by some of his favorite songs getting used and/or bastardized in commercials. Now I know why. I guess no one wants to think of the music of their life, their soundtrack really, being used to sell products. And there is the worry that the older generations and the younger ones will only know these songs as commercials. They’ll never understand how many nights I spent in Moses Hall, drunk off my ass with Danny and Aaron while Danny played “Blister in the Sun” on his guitar. (Shut up. Yes, I was a sucker for a cute boy with a guitar.) When they hear that distinctive tune, they’ll just think about hamburgers.

My soundtrack has been sullied and cheapened.

What song-turned-commercial gets you fired up?

Here We Go….

Today in the mail, Bridget received her first party invitation. Oy. The invitation was sent by a woman I know whose daughter is turning three. I used to be her boss at a past job and while the whole group has remained in touch and friendly, she and I aren’t really that close. Honestly, if she weren’t part of this group, I don’t think we’d bother to see each other ever again. She’s very nice but we just never had the bond that I have with a one or two of the other group.

First, let me say that I do not believe in birthday parties for children who are too young to have friends. It’s one thing to get together at the house with the family to watch a baby bury their face in some cake. Spending scads of money on an event at a place like Chuck E Cheese’s and the like for a three year old just baffles me. Why spend the money and the effort to plan an elaborate party for a child who is not going to remember it? Do you remember your third birthday? Well, I do, but I am a freak - most people don’t remember back that far. Save the effort for when they can anticipate and get excited about it, and actually have memories of the party, not to mention have some input on which children attend. I know that I am decidedly UNsentimental about such things. We didn’t buy Bridget any Christmas presents last year and honestly aren’t sure if we will this year either. As I think about her first birthday coming in a few months, I honestly don’t see any more fanfare than what I just mentioned. The family. A cake. Then a bath. But again, I don’t tend to be sentimental about these things. I go overboard on the sentimentality of many many things, but just not this particular thing.

All that aside, the other thing that has me scratching my head is why Bridget was sent an invitation to this event. She is five months old. She has never even laid eyes on the birthday girl, and if she had, would have been completely unaware of it. Bridget has only been around the mother one time for about an hour. Is that how it works? Your child has a birthday so you invite every single person you know who also has children? I don’t know, there is something about this that really bugs me. It’s like in this case it’s about showing off. Look at the party I’m throwing for my child. Look how much money I am spending. It’s not just this person either. I have a handful of friends with small children (toddler age) who have parties for them at Build-a-Bear and other similar “experience” places or rent bounce houses and have pony rides. These are kids who don’t even attend school yet. Who can they know to invite?

I am convinced that Bridget is going to spend a good deal of her childhood hating us because we refuse to be sucked into this type of thing. This sort of showing off just doesn’t sit well with me, and I am sure that there will be many eye rolls and refrains of “Mom you just don’t understand!”

I know, I know. Welcome to parenthood.