I wanted to blog today, I really did. I want to most days, to be honest, but times being what they are, well, I just can’t. Usually, by bedtime, I am lucky to have had a shower, and I forgot I needed to pee two hours ago. So instead of a nice, tasty start to finish coherent blog, I’ll instead share with you some random thoughts from my day. They are in no particular order and are in no way related, much like the way I think.
*I just passed an accident on the road. It seems someone rear-ended an ambulance. The car’s front end was still sniffing the ambulance’s behind, and all the red lights were on and flashing, like the ambulance was enjoying it. At first, I thought, wow, how convenient. But in reality, wouldn’t they just need to call another ambulance? What if the ambulance already had a full load? That would mean two ambulances. Unless the EMT’s were also injured. How many ambulances would potentially have to respond to an ambulance accident? What about school bus accidents, with multiple injuries? Do they stack the kids on top of one another on the gurneys, or does an entire fleet of ambulances converge on the scene? A school bus accident could wipe out a city's first responders in one fell swoop.
*I don’t know if this qualifies as the definition of risky, but I just went to the grocery store with only a panty liner because I was too lazy to walk upstairs to get a tampon. You think jumping out of an airplane is hazardous? Try pushing a grocery cart around the store in white shorts on day two of your period without a Super Plus. Who says I don’t live on the edge?
*I ordered some sliced turkey at the deli counter, and I noticed another woman working there. She was busy impaling raw chickens on a rotisserie spit, and she was missing an eye. Did she lose it in a rotisserie related incident? The spit looks to be about the same size as her empty eye socket. At what point does a one-eyed person decide to forgo a glass replica to match the other eye? Or to skip the eye patch and just go for it, really own that vacant orbital cavity? All I’m saying is pirates are really popular, and eye patches lend a certain air of mystery. Whereas, in comparison, empty eye sockets with sagging eye lids look like the dog next door who just got to take off its cone. I don’t want to stare, but I can’t help it. Oh, Thank God, she is done slicing my Muenster cheese.
*I am tired of trying to like the new Barenaked Ladies CD. It’s lousy, and I know why. They sound like a bunch of pussies, making whiny pussy music. Gone are the days of interesting melodies and catchy lyrics, when BNL was clever and fun. Now they are recording songs that would make you try to claw your way out of the elevator. And I know why. When Steven Page, the former lead singer, quit the band, he took the only set of balls with him. He was the witty lyricist, and now they are trying to fill his void with a shitty rhyming dictionary and a Roget’s thesaurus, which is not, by the way, a species of dinosaur. Page left the band last year after a spectacular display of mid-life crisis. He cheated on his wife, leaving her and his three sons for a younger woman he met on MySpace. After his divorce came his cocaine arrest, which coincided with the release of the Barenaked Ladies’ new children’s CD. None of that took brains, but it sure did take some cohones.
*I am sitting inside the exam room at my doctor’s office, waiting for my internist to come in. I just heard an old man say in an angry he knew where he was going, and then I heard the loudest pee, like a morning pee. It went on forever. I am pretty sure there isn’t a bathroom on this side of the doctor’s office.
*If I eat a handful of deluxe mixed nuts and a square of chocolate, then follow it with an apple, does that count as a balanced meal? What if I drink a bunch of water with it?
*The piano tuner came today. Listening to him tune is like listening to Nora the piano playing cat, an internet sensation. I found out today when writing a check to him that not only have I been calling him by the wrong last name, I have done it twice now. Who I thought was Mr. Troyer wasn’t in fact Mr. Teller, he is Mr. Taylor. He has an easy disposition and a good ear, which is why he is the piano tuner and I am the mother who can ignore her children’s whining. (Why, right now I am ignoring a low guttural cry so I can type. It doesn’t sound like she’s in pain, so no rush.) When Mr. Taylor bent over to get his tuning tools, I silently prayed that he would not fart, although I am sure it would have been in perfect pitch. Then I felt badly that I never offered him a glass of water.
* If you and your child have to go to the doctor on the same day, which one of you is the hypochondriac? I have some funk under my left eye, and she has a sore throat; they both seem to be legitimate complaints. Her pediatrician didn’t think her throat was a big deal, since she didn’t have a fever, but he did change her asthma inhaler. In fact, he came into the room carrying a clear plastic cylinder and asked me if I knew how to use it. I almost asked him what end of the tube was for inserting a flaccid penis. I decided to answer “no” and hope I was thinking of the wrong plastic tube. I was. It had something to do with breathing. My bad.
*I stopped by the drug store this afternoon and found a hotel key card that someone had dropped on the sidewalk. Poor fool. By the time he bought the box of condoms, drove back to the hotel, rushed to his room, and realized he couldn’t get in without returning to the lobby, no doubt he lost that erection.
Sometimes people tell me that I say what they are thinking, or that I need to filter my thoughts. I am doing the best that I can with the filtering since only about a third of what I think escapes my mouth into actual out-loud words. Chances are good that when you ask me “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”, the answer is no. Except about the one-eyed deli worker. You would have thought that stuff too.
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