Fish, Pork, Ice Cream and Criminality

I don't even know if I should tell you this. Yesterday was ridiculous. Where do I begin?

It was my day off, but I went in anyway to make sure things went well for the evening-girl-who-is-me. There was quite a bit of stuff to put away, so I borrowed 2 morning stockers and had them help me (there was complaining, yes! How did you know?) Anyway, I got it all finished with a certain amount of satisfaction that she would come in and not have to worry about too much. I came home and decided to pick up some items for Thursday night dinner, which we are hosting this week. Captain Awesome gave me his prepaid card, and away I went.

I went to the grocery store that was farther away, to see my cashier buddy, Mary. Mary cracks me up. She has a crackle laugh, crazy barrettes tied into her short hair, and a height of about 4' 10". And I forgot she doesn't work Mondays. I was having a ball, though they didn't have my greek yogurt with Honey, I had to get regular. I got stopped by old ladies asking where the gravy was, and gave them a tour of the boxed dinner aisle (it's aisle 7, you know). Anyway, checkout didn't go so well.

I rang through all my items, and swiped the prepaid card. The lady asked to see my ID. I gave it to her, not knowing that the prepaid card with Captain Awesome's name on it had arrived. She immediately slipped into fraud mode and said she could not take the card. I said, "should we call him?" "Wouldn't matter, you could be calling anyone." So I said I had another card. Here's where it got ridiculous. She had already accepted it. So she called the manager over, who was also unable to void the transaction. They had to push it through, then take the card to customer service to refund the card, then charge my card the exact same amount. If I did not go to customer service and switch it all, they would have to assume the card was stolen and report it as such. Are you hearing me? The cops, on a prepaid card, on which I am an authorized user. People in line behind me were giving me "the look" and I was starting to feel pretty criminalistic. Since it had to be pushed through, she turned away from me, jerked her shoulder back and said, "I am going to need to you scribble on that again, to make it go through." Like I couldn't even sign a name. UGH! Humiliation! I didn't even do anything wrong!

I could have done this (does anyone else do this? Revisit the situation and say, "I SHOULD have..."

- I could have left all that meat and frozen food and just walked away. Have fun putting that away!
- I could have gone to the ATM and forced her to ring it all back up again.
- I could have said witty comments, pointing out the ridiculousness of a prepaid card being treated like a credit card and the way they pushed it through anyway.

Whatever. So I got home, put the groceries away with ire, and went with Captain Awesome to my workplace to pick up a few things. I saw the girl-who-is-me-in-the-evening, and walked over to say, "Isn't this nice? You didn't have to do all the lugging!" But before I could say anything, she was asking me who did this, because it was all done wrong and she had to redo it. So I really didn't help at all. Glad I came in on my day off to help. Sometimes it feels like it doesn't matter what I do, there is just no pleasing people. Why am I working so hard? Why should I care? Whatever! :P

What did I do after this wasted day? What any self respecting girl would do. I watched the new Chuck and ate sushi at home. And that was the best part of my day. Sad! :) I am done with THAT Cub Foods. I will stick to the closer one from now on. You should have seen the way she looked at me, like everything I said was a planned lie.

So. Anyway. The song of the day for yesterday is
The Steve Miller Band - Take the Money and Run, as I am clearly a criminal with intent to steal and commit fraud. Yes. That sounds like me.

Seems to Me That Angry People Have Imaginations...

One day, not too long ago, I was sailing the sea of status updates on that ever-ridiculous, but seemingly necessary Facebook. After 3 pages of farmville updates from friends that I no longer talk to because of Farmville, I saw this random post, almost shoved in the middle of a barn raising and a lost manta ray in Seaville (the villes are getting out of control, people). It was from my friend in Georgia, and it said simply,

"Anger always comes from frustrated expectations. -Elliot Larson."

Since that day, that phrase has subtly stalked me, popping up and teasing me, like a snack I know I don't need, and I'm not particularly hungry, but is something I can chew. I pull up in my mind a time when I was angry, justified or not, and I find this to be true. Whenever I am angry, I am angry because of my frustration that reality doesn't look like the picture in my head. To be fair, I think the picture in my head is always the ideal; such as last week when I came home from work and Captain Awesome had planted the garden, not everything was in the pot I wanted, blooming. How silly; they are seeds, I can move them when they bloom, which some are already doing! But I digress.

Even when anger is justified, I think it comes from the same place. When someone turns their back on you, humiliates you, disappoints you, it's because of this picture in your head that you expected. You expected them to be a better person, you thought they really loved you for yourself, you expected them not to be so selfish or untrue. All of these things lead to anger (they also lead to sloth, depression, overeating, and lots of other things that will keep you on your couch for days...not that I know, or anything!). When Christ lost his temper in the temple, He expected the religious leaders to be generous and to follow the spirit of the law, not use it as a power tool over others, and He was angry. Why wouldn't He be? He expected better. Just like (on a MUCH smaller scale, not even comparable), I expected better yesterday when I walked in to a massive mess in my storage area that took me a while to clean up. I was angry, and I was right to be angry, but all that could really be done about it was to clean it up. My expectation was frustrated. I did clean it up and received commendation from my boss. Woot. :)

I started this blog out of my frustrated expectations; I expected I could walk into a job last year, and put it off. Then I needed a job, expected to get one easily, couldn't, and continually freaked out. I expected that my experience, perception and people skills would help me. They might have, if I could have even gotten interviews. I expected that I was more than a resume. I wasn't. Oh well, ce'st la vie. Incidentally, my pastor is looking for these stupid types of coping/anti-stress phrases...there's one (also acceptable: It is what it is, it's all good...).

I don't know the answer to this. Logic would say, "don't expect anything." How do I not expect things? I'm a planner. I can't even half-expect, because you do or you don't, it's like if you like curry or not. There's no middle ground there. Imagination, the unreasonable force behind everything good, also leads you believe that your life is going to be everything you wanted when you were 10. It leads you to believe when you're happy it will stay that way, when you're sad, it will pass. That is why there are mid-life crises, identity losses, and people who run away from their families and responsibilities; in their anger over their frustrated expectations, they leave for something better; no doubt something they have in their mind, an expectation. How's that work for y'all? I mean, no wonder people say things like, "he's a sensitive artist-type." Likely they can't make the picture on the easel look like the one in their head.

I don't know how I got on this, but there it is. I think that statement is a true one, and I have been trying to keep it in my head so as to not overreact or to keep a little logic. I'd love to know what you think.

Today's song of the day is a repeat from November. Sorry, I will think of another, but for now,

Open Letter to Young Girl Who's Journal I Found Strewn About the Park This Morning

Dear Young Person:

I'm sorry some mean bully-type person found your journal.

I'm sorry they chased you around with it and read it out loud.

I'm sorry you were humiliated, watching your innermost thoughts and drawings be ripped out and
thrown into the wind.

I'm sorry that you feel like your life is over and you can never go back to school.

I know it feels like nothing is secret or safe, but it will be again, someday.

I know it doesn't help now, but eventually everyone will forget that you like Kyle.

I know it hurts, but eventually you will not think of it again until one day when you are 30, and you find some little girl's journal in the park and you remember how it felt.

If it makes you feel better, in the 5th grade, the Morin twins (Megan and Becky) tricked me on the playground; one of them picked me up over their shoulder and the other pulled my skirt over my head.

It is important that you "chin up" about this and know that you are a strong person. You must be; only strong people keep journals. Weak people just remember fun times and reminisce about them well into their adulthood, living in the past.

Most of those bullies will peak in highschool, and you will peak much later, for much longer.

Big picture, here, young person. In the long run, this will be a blip that you remember with some hurt, but you cannot let it define you or change who you are right now. Not all people are as horrible as elementary school kids.

Whatever they did to you, they did because they wanted to feel better about themselves by pushing you down; only you can let them make you feel bad. Be stronger than they.

Start a new journal; eviscerate them. Maybe keep it at home. Only you need to know about it.

Do not seek public revenge; that only makes you stoop to their level. Also, the likelihood that you will get in trouble rather than them is good.


Today's song of the day is for you. Actually, you get a playlist, little girl. You go.

PS: The butterfly song at the end might make you cry. It's good for you :)

Brew Me Up Some Twinings Tea...Do I have Twinings Tea? I can't find it in my sea of tea...

I begin today's Blog with the following side note:  Yesterday I cleared off all the pictures on my camera's card, in order to take more today.  I took a few this morning for this blog post.  Here I sit at 8:00am, and whlist dumping my photos onto my computer, I see the shocking number:  83.  How did this happen?  How did I just take 83 shots in the last half hour?  Will I delete the ones that I think aren't great?  Will I?  This is today's blog.

I have long had this issue, for which I take more than a little cajoling, that I do not use everything I buy when it comes to food.  I have this mentality of, "I need to have a little left in case there is a nuclear holocaust or emergency," or "I love this, and it's hard to find, so I will not finish it; then one day, when I REALLY need this taste, it will be here."  Therefore, I have cans of fruit and veggies from 2004, I have 8 containers of honey, approximately 1 Tbs each, and I have this enclosed photo, an entire shelf full of tea.  OK, OK, a shelf and a half.

The tea is really interesting, because today I decided to make a cup.  This was my thought process:

-Oooh, I love black currant.  But I got that in Ireland, and it's so hard to find.
-Oh! My tea from Austria with Elderberry (holunder!  Something that was life changing and mind boggling to me, but likely means nothing to you)!  But it's loose tea, and I don't know where my filter bags are.
-Hm.. This tea has never been opened.  Organic Peach Detox...what is that?  Can I drink it with toast?  Probably not; I bet it's a fasting tea.
-Green tea...yech.  Sick of it. What's all the hype again?
-I need to buy more Ginger Lemon tea; that's my favorite, and I only have 2 bags left.  NO. NO MORE TEA.  You must drink this entire shelf and a half of tea before more tea comes in to this house!
-My fancy, expensive tea from Mackinac Island...*sigh*.  Same problem of no filter bags.
-Jason Winter's Tea.  An herbal blend that only gets stronger, even after removed.  I don't like it.  But it reminds me of my fiance, who drank it as part of a therapy before he died.  It would be wrong to throw it away.  I wonder if anyone who has cancer would want it?  (seriously, this is how I think...maybe I should have a garage sale for tea?  Surely is an absurd idea...)
-Fine.  Peach it is. Boring old peach.

So as I sit here drinking my peach tea and listening to the chickadees out on my patio thrash about in my pile of birdseed, I can't help but think that this is a problem.  I'm not a hoarder or anything, but when it comes to food, I make all these excuses not to enjoy it all, and it inevitably goes bad, so I've missed out anyway.  The tea is just one of many indicators.

Another example is that one day I was having a particularly hard day (for those avid readers of my blog, I refer you to the horrid day at the spa back in December of 2009).  It was three days after my abomination of a hair cut and style (from a near GRADUATE, I remind you), and I was having a tough day at work (as tough as retail can get...).  My friends located Bulmers, an Irish hard cider that I drank in Ireland with my newfound friends and locals, and adored.  In the U.S. it's called "Magners".  They drove to Minneapolis and brought me a six pack at work.  My friend, Crystal, knowing me too well, also bought me a single bottle, which she knew I would keep on my shelf and never drink.  She is so wise.  That bottle is still on my shelf...as well as one in the fridge, which I had every intention of drinking on St. Patrick's Day, but instead sat at O'garas drinking Jamie-Gingers that tasted more like Jamie-Soda Waters.  Oooh! I may have a photo of that too!

Not a great picture, but all the good ones have me and other people, and I don't want to assume it's ok to use them.  I stole my friend's camera and tried to make a kissy face, but started laughing.  I know, so unlike me, right?  Hey! Back to the post, lady!

So I write now to admit this issue, and to address it in the following manner:

-I vow to get rid of any tea I don't find particularly tasty, even though I will feel SO wasteful to throw away tea.  Don't ask me why.
-I vow to get "smart" selection of tea of no more than half of ONE shelf, such as Earl Grey, etc.
-I vow to drink it, not to use it as decoration
-I vow that if I have one bag left, I and do NOT drink it, I will put it in a tin, where no more than one bag of any flavor will reside.
-I vow to make LOTS of iced tea on my patio in the next few weeks and use up whatever I can.

Here's the rub.  If I just keep this stuff in the hopes that one day I will really want it, when I finally eat or drink it, it will be stale and disappointing.  You can't keep Manna, can you?  It all goes bad.  Even tea.  *sigh*

Today's Song of the day is "Out in the Country" by Kristen Hall.  For lots of reasons, one of which being the line in which she sings, "brew me up some twinings tea...tell me that you love me..."

Undercover Knitters Make Me Smile

I came across this article, and it gave me a chuckle.  Rogue knitters are ensconcing the city's trees and parks in knit scarves.  I will let you read for yourself.

http://www.metro.co.uk/weird/816969-police-hunt-the-midnight-knitter-wool-graffiti-bandit

Ca-ve Thoughts

I have had the same song in my head for 3 days. It's called The Cave, by Mumford and Sons. I heard it on my way to work the other day, and sat in the car to let it finish (thank you, 89.3 the current, a part of Minnesota Public Radio :P). The mandolin is amazing. I gotta have more mandolin.

Two lines from this song keep ringing in my head. Just stuck in there, on repeat, and I love it. How can a song capture so many thoughts with one line? "Let me to the truth which will refresh my broken mind..." What a great line! Their show here in the cities is at least 2 weeks away, and it's been sold out forever. I'm sure I'm taking the song completely out of context, but I just keep hearing, "I need freedom now, and I need to know how, to live my life as it's meant to be..."

The other thought that comes to my mind is a memory from Ireland. In Doolin, we took a cave tour. The longest stalactite in the Northern Hemisphere (or was is stalagmite...which one hangs from the ceiling? Stalactite)...We had to walk down almost a mile of stairs, and then walk up them. When we came out, the sun burning our eyes, and our lungs burning from the climb, Carolyn said, "Oh, I still have ca-vay on my pants." So when I hear this song, I think of ca-vay, and the climb out of it. And I gotta have more mandolin!

Here are a couple of pics of us and the ca-vay day. We all still joke it was the worst 13.50 Euro we spent. But we helped the economy in Doolin. Yay. :)

So there it is. The mulling of my mind over the last few days. Spring has sprung, and perhaps we are all coming out of our caves. Maybe we'll come out walking on our hands, and see the world hanging upside down. Maybe we're all backwards :)


Today's song of the day should be no surprise. The video link is below, as well as others. I'm a fan. Way to go, Mumford :)

And, we now know (almost a year later) that the banjo/mandolin debate is finished, and tied. He plays the Banjolin. Surprised you didn't know that. :)