Friday, October 28, 2011

And you're the B. in a suit.

Oh my goodness to I have a story. And in no way is it a surprise that it happened during two days of things going on. Friends and family in various hospitals waiting for tests-procedures-surgery, a co-worker in hospital for a test who didn’t come back to work afterwards because they kept him in order to do heart surgery RIGHT AWAY, daughter with an accident at the house before we’re even in the car to get her to the airport. You get the kind of couple of days, right?

With the boy sick, and myself exhausted from a bad round of RLS, is seemed like a good idea to go home early yesterday. Basically when The Boy was finished his work. Work where he was supposed to be let off early but was instead keptlate. Guess it was a bad day for him, too!

Back home on the range, it was clear that The Boy was going to have another night of congested-lungs-lack-of-sleep. So I suggested that perhaps I could get some Nyquil® for him. He doesn’t like pills, so liquid is a much better choice.

There is a grocery store a mere half block from the abode, so I grabbed one of
The Boy’s hoodies and headed out. No one in their right mind drives a car for half a block, right? Maybe a block by the time you go around all the fencing. Anyway, I walked.

Only to find out that the store doesn’t have a licensed pharmacy. So they had day time cold medicine, and baby cold medicine but not the one thing I needed. It didn’t make sense to go back for the car so I continued on my way to Shopper’s Drug Mart.

No interesting events on the way, it was a normal Saskatchewan day. Sunny and windy as all get out. Shoppers had what I needed, and I had something they needed as there was a lady looking for something who didn’t speak English and I was able to help her. I paid for the cold meds and left. Or tried to.

In the lobby, past the auto close doors was a little old lady (I’m short, so I’m allowed to make height judgments. She was WAY shorter than me!) trying to get back into the store through the out doors. Turns out she had asked the staff to call a taxi for her and she’d been waiting more than half an hour. She just wanted to know if they’d called, and the cab was just late, or if they’d forgotten to call. Turns out it was neither.

The girl – 17 years old? – at the till had been calling every ten minutes, but the lines were continually busy. To be fair she kept trying, but it’s unfortunate that she didn’t think to let the lady know what was going on.

I asked if they could try another cab company. But neither cashier had a number on hand. That was no surprise, I don’t have cab numbers memorized either. But there was also no phone book anywhere. Not at the till, not in the back room. That I found surprising. In the end, two employees walked by on their way home, and one of them DID have a number memorized. So I used my cell and called. And was put on hold. Tried again and got the ‘all our lines are busy” message.

The sad thing here was that the lady lived a block from me. If I’d had the car I would have driven her myself. In the end one of the two employees leaving gave her and her cart of things a lift home. Isn’t it nice to know that people do things like that? And at the end of her work day too. What a kind-hearted employee! So, that little situation all cleared up.

On the way home, a minor car accident happened. Not to me, of course, I was walking. A car parked in the street pulled out just as another car was driving by, with minor scraping on both being the result. No real need to stay, but I did. Just in case. And staying turned out to be the right call.

The driver not at fault was a guy, somewhere between 17 and 20 years old. Hard to tell, which means I’m getting older. The older I get, the younger everyone else seems. The driver that was at fault was a woman, my age. And there the similarities end. She was perfectly coiffed, impeccably dressed, had gold accessories of that particular colour and weight that screams real gold and her wedding ring/engagement ring had a ginourmous diamond. You know the type, yes? Type of woman, not type diamond!

I’m glad I stayed because it was clear right away that the woman felt the whole thing was the other drivers fault. She started off being rude to him, talking about teenagers who shouldn’t be driving. He decided to call the police – good idea – and she used her cell to call someone. Husband, I’m guessing.

What I heard from her end of the conversation was:
Yes. No. I know. No. Well, I don’t think so, but this PERSON in a HOODY says yes.

I looked around, wondering where this person was. It was me! She was talking about me! I started laughing because it was just too funny. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do (or the right thing, as it made her furious which wasn’t my intention at all. I had no intention, actually, it was just truly funny). In the end my number was handed around and I left them all to it.

Went to the Sushi place that is between the apartment and the store I originally went to. As the food was getting ready, there was some texting between The Boy and me, given that I was supposed to have stepped out for a minute he was starting to worry. I guess I didn’t help when I tried texting bits of things like not speaking English, little old ladies, rude ladies and hoodies. When I mention accident and police I thought he was going to come and get me. But at that point the sushi was ready and I was a minute from home, so he stayed wrapped up in his blanket and waited to hear what had happened to my five minute errand of mercy.

In the end the sushi was excellent, the cold medicine worked because he fell asleep at nine, and I am still humoured at being a person in a hoody. Good thing I leave on vacation tomorrow, I’m going to need the break!

Thursday, October 27, 2011

As The Girl would say: Really? REALLY?

expected this. Is that because I am on top of things and know precisely when shipments with things I need will be here? No, it’s because:

I am getting my hair cut tomorrow. So I didn’t do anything to it this morning other than get it wet in the shower. I couldn’t even find a comb, so I just ran my fingers through it. Once. Not that it mattered, it was so windy this morning that even if it had started out looking decent, it wouldn’t have by the time I got in.

Three nights of no sleep from RLS is about the most I can take without collapsing. I’ve had two nights of no sleep, one night of a little bit of sleep. My skin is an interesting off white grey/blue. ‘Cept for the black under my eyes.

I am wearing THE pantyhose (see previous post). What, you didn’t think I’d just toss them, did you? That would be wasteful. So what if they are already pooling around my ankles.

It was freezing cold in my little space this morning. That’s ok, though, I have a sweater I keep here. A bit ragged, far too big for me and ugly as a diner dishcloth, but it’s warm. So I put it on.

Morning was progressing nicely, until the allergy attack. And drat, I’m out of antihistamine. Ah well, I can grab some next door at coffee break. In the meantime, I’ll try not to rip my eyes out. I’ll just have to put up with the drippy nose and wheezy breathing and red eyes and…wait. Why is someone at the door at this wing? Oh yeah, we’re open late, so I’m the only one that starts early. I better go answer that.


Ah. Hello box of records. And hello to you nice looking man. Ignore me, please.

That. That is why – for the second time in 20+ years – there was a nice looking man in the office today.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Ah Velma, I get it now.

I have not yet learned to always have my reading glasses with me. And yet I cannot read fine print without them. Who am I kidding? I can't read regular print without them!

I frequently forget them in restaurants. This is not a terrible thing, as the main list I can usually read, it's the description underneath that defeats me. A problem if I'm on my own as the small print tends to be where they put things like "includes bacon that will kill you". But I only occasionally go out to eat on my own, and family members and friends seem to be happy to read the small print for me. I could be wrong; perhaps even now they have plans to group together and steal my cutlery if I ever forget my glasses at a restaurant again.

I have done some terrible not-to-be-recommended things without glasses (I signed a legal form without them once). I ended up walking to the drug store once to buy reading glasses because mine were at work, and there was NO WAY I was going to spend an evening without the ability to read things.

(Side note: The Girl is right, I am totally getting old. I can't remember why I started writing about glasses. Give me a sec, it'll come back to me).

Oh yeah, I remember. Shopping. I do shop on my own. Shouldn't, as in general I don't like clothes shopping and in specific I'm not very good at it. But it isn't something that The Boy tends to want to do. And The Girl...well, she has a good eye and will shop at the drop of a hat. But then she wants to buy said hat. And some jeans. And maybe some shoes, mom, cause I only have a six pairs of runners. So I go on my own. But....

Can't bring myself to ask for help reading sizes. And I keep forgetting what size I'm looking for anyway. Which sounds ridiculous, but it is almost as though my brain has decided not to believe the scale. I still find myself leaving a store because they don't have anything I want in the plus size section. None of which would fit me anymore, but my brain is having a hard time believing that.

You know what I will shop for without glasses? Or at least what I did, but will no longer? Nylons. I'm generally a stocking kind of a gal, but sometimes you need warm tights, and sometimes you need nylons. Which is what happened the other day.

I went to Shopper's drug mart at something like 4 in the morning. Yeah, I know, but I wasn't sleeping anyway and it was a beautiful morning and it's a five minute walk. Maybe eight if you stroll. And we were down to three litres of chocolate milk. (I have a teenage son. He drinks chocolate milk at the rate many teens drink cola. You have to be a mom to understand how much that is). So I went for a stroll.

I got the milk, walked without thinking to the section with dog bones (despite being nearly 2 months dog-less so far) and then decided to get a pair of nylons.

Now, milk you can get without having to read anything. Even the price thing on the shelf is huge, so I would know if they'd suddenly decided to charge $5.00 per litre I would know.

I would have thought I could choose a pair of beige nylons without reading glasses. I thought wrong. I thought I was getting size b, beige. I was getting Tall. Queen. I may have been queen size or close to it at one point, but tall? I've never been tall. And of course, it was a box of three pairs. So I have three pairs of nylons that make my legs look orange (I'm sure if they were stretched to what they were meant to stretch to, the colour would look more natural), and they sag and bag. A bit at the knee but by then end of the day great pools of material ring my ankles. Ridiculous. I swear, I will try to be better at bringing my glasses everywhere! At the very least, I will try to refrain from purchasing anything without knowing - for certain - what I am getting.

Note: yes, being in a drug store I could have grabbed a pair of glasses just to check the size on the nylons. But the sticker really did look like B Beige, not T Queen. Honest.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Not Gone. But perhaps Forgotten.

Haven't posted in a while, have I? Time to add a thing or two:

Didn't win the Children's Wish Lottery, but a family member won the hoped for answer to a medical test lottery, a much better win so that's good.

Move from the house is over and done with, although I have had to go back a couple of times. Was ok with it, unlike the last official trip when I had to pull over and puke in a ditch I was so stressed over it! I even went so far as to peek in the front hall on the weekend. Man, I hate that house. I don't think I'll ever want to see it again, even when all the renos are done.

I've been saving some interesting bits and pieces for you. Things I've read, things I've heard on the radio and things I've heard in person:

"I didn't say anything at the time because it hurt my emotions to have to do that to her" This from a 1920's murder trial transcript. Murder, so hard on one. No one ever understands.

"I'm sorry it took so long, we were unexpectedly swamped with customers". This at a coffee shop where I was getting coffee for the office. At TEN FIFTEEN IN THE MORNING. Is there any other time in the day that would be MORE likely to be busy? Surely not! If you're not busy during morning coffee break, when are you?

"Would you like me to hold something for you?" This from a very nice looking man in the Safeway parking lot. I had dropped my purse, the trunk lid had just whacked me on the head....again, and my note (which, granted, was no longer needed) was running away in the wind. I totally wasn't thinking, because I asked him to hold the trunk open whilst I unloaded groceries. I was close to tears (it HURTS to be bashed by a trunk lid), I should have said yes, hold me!

My family -and friends, for that matter - occasionally ask if I've met anyone. I just signed up an entire fire hall of men* to be cookie taste testers. Does that count? I was at Canadian Tire, they had a table for fundraising, as I walked by one of the asked me about what they were doing and we talked for a bit. As I walked away I wondered if they were from the fire-hall a half a block from the apartment. So I went back and asked. They were. Told them about needing taste testers for the Christmas list. They're very interested. In the cookies, at least! *Yes, some of the halls have women fire fighters. But not all of them. and women are fine taste testers too, you know!

I think I am going to write a song. A country western heart break song. And if I do, it'll be called "I won't be making pancakes anymore". So sad. I love making breakfast/lunch things, but it rarely works out that there is anyone but me and I like the making more than the eating! Although...having found a source for wood-fire boiled maple syrup I may just be making pancakes/waffles/french toast for one anyway.

At the local grocery store, a conversation that I still don't quite understand:
Me: Do you have any plums?
Produce Person: Do you?
Me: ummm...I was looking for plums.
P.P.: Sorry, I totally misheard what you said.

And then he left.

I have two trips coming up. One, in less than two weeks to BC to see family and check out the salmon run. The other to Cuba, in the depths of winter. Very excited about that, but now I'm thinking of all the related things:

Do I need shots?
Should I go to a tanning salon in advance?
When should I get a bathing suit, as the one I have is looking saggy baggy elephant-like? I mean, yeah, I need a smaller suit instead of a bigger one, but boo, bathing suit shopping. And knowing full well that I will be seen in said suit by non-family members.
Waxing. don't want to think about waxing.
Stuff to do whilst I am there. Already snorkeling, so that's good.
Things to bring to leave behind, like soap and shampoo etc.

I am very excited to be going somewhere hot when things here are decidedly cold! Will take pictures and post any non-swim suit shots that seem post-able.