Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I don't need Nostradamus, this makes it very clear to me.

So, whilst browsing a stupid catalog I received in the mail today I came across a little summin, summin'.

It is exactly why I know that the end of the world is near.  Very near.  Check it out please and then go build a safe room or a cellar or something.  Just build baby.

The Pet High Chair.

Satisfying a mutual desire for companionship, this high chair permits your dog or cat to accompany you at the dinner table. The high chair clips securely to tables up to 2" thick and its height adjusts without tools to elevate your pet to near eye level. It has a frame of powder-coated 5/8" steel tubing and its arms are rubber-coated so they will not mar table surfaces. By providing an alternative to sitting on your lap, running disruptively underfoot, or outright banishment, the chair assuages a pet (and its owner's) frustration, and promotes more refined behavior. The chair's 600-denier tan/brown nylon fabric cleans easily. Two tethers on the chair protect your dinner guests against any lapses in etiquette. Folds for convenient storage and travel. For pets up to 10 lbs. 10" H x 12" W x 9 1/2" D. (4 lbs.)

This thing cost $49.95!    Seriously?  This satisfies a "mutual desire for companionship"?  This worries mel  And some poor schmuck had to write that copy.  Oh dear Lord, the end is near. 

Forgive my sarcasm but you gotta be shittin' me?!

Monday, March 22, 2010

So Littlest Pet Shop has taken over my home. And I'm friggin' pissed.

I can't take it anymore.  The little toys.  The Littlest Pet Shop, The Polly Pockets, The Legos, The Knex.  You name it, they are taking over my home.  I tried to pee in the eldest child's bathroom and had to remove a whole Littlest Pet Shop habitat before I could even lift the lid of the chamber pot which is a commode which is a TOILET!  I stepped on a chameleon and a lion or a puppy or a kitten not sure which...anyhoo.

I am sick of the little toys and this is coming from a woman who played with Smurfs.  You know the Smurfs.  LOVED THEM!  My mom still has my Smurfs.  Papa Smurf, Smurfette.  She's got 'em.

Now if I threw them all over the Master Bedroom floor and tried to navigate over them during my 4:00 a.m. pee (face it we all do it) I would be PISSED. Clearly there is some connection between my urinary habits and little toys and if anyone out there is studying something like this, I could be available for some sort of paid study group.

In the meantime, the little toys are taking over.  There is no rule, no organization, no hope.

Smurfette, help me now.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Is my irrational fear holding me back?!

I have an extremely irrational fear.  It crept up on me when I was about 35 and has becoming increasingly more present now that I am the big 4-0.  It's a weird one I tell ya' but I'm willing to share it.

I fear pumping gas.  I am certain that I will be that static fire statistic that they show pictures of on the pump.  You know the stick figure that sparks off an explosion at the tank because she wears fleece pants (i.e. snuggy pants) way more than she should.  And said snuggy pants are quite static-y.  Dog hair comes straight off the dog and attaches it self to these pants.  They bunch at the ankles because of the static.

So I have become that gas pumper who gets out of her car and touches her car.  Then I touch the trash can next to the gas pump.  Then I touch the post next to the gas pump.  Touch my car again.  Say a little prayer and then grab the gas handle.  OCD, Nay!  Maybe, okay, probably.

I have looked at the statistics.  The chances of such a fire or explosion are extremely rare (150 cases out of approximately 50 million fill-ups a day) but I'm still considering ditching the snuggy pants.  And not because they unflattering.  They are a fire hazard.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

If you are so busy strategizing you forget about living!

Had a discussion with The Man in My Life today.  We spend WAY to much time strategizing and a lot less time living. Here's an example.

Took all 3 offspring to see "Alice in Wonderland" in 3D!  today.  We discussed when we should show up at the theater (so we could get a seat)  Should we hit Petco first, do we have time? Maybe you should go see if we can get seats and then we can go from there?  Should we think about running to the store first to get soup for dinner?  You know it will be dinner time when the movie is over?  What do you think?

Once it was determined that we could not get into the theater for seats but we could wait in line we had this discussion.  Should we all wait in line?  Where are the boys?  Do you have a quarter?  Mom, when are you getting some drinks because I am hungry? (oh, wait I'm sorry son the small bottle of rum in my purse is yelling at me so don't talk to me about mixers right now.)

We have now made it into the theater.  Here I am asked... Where should we sit?  Are you sure this is a good spot for 3D perhaps we should be down a row, whatya' think?  Are there 5 in a row?  Should we move down so as not to leave a single seat that no one can use?  I have to use the restroom, should I do that before we get snacks?

Getting snacks was frightening.  What should we get the offspring?  Will they eat that much?  Will they want more?  What do we want?  Should we share a large drink?  Does that small bottle of rum in your purse cover 2 large drinks?  Do you want popcorn?  I don't know, do you?  Now that we have this popcorn, should we put some of that fancy flavoring on it?  Do you think there is too much sodium in that stuff?  Aren't we watching our sodium intake?

We spend WAY to much trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.  In the meantime, we miss most of what's going on.  We are trying to get everywhere faster, quieter, stronger, louder, bigger, better, smaller and God knows what else.  All the while, no one is looking at us and everyone is looking at us too.

Live without Strategy, you will be surprised how nicely it will work out and finally someone will have just made a decision.  Finally.