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Archive for the ‘Just Wondering’ Category

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. (Shakespeare, der.)

I’ve been musing on names the last two days. I finally learned the name of a woman I’ve been seeing around the office, and it just doesn’t suit her.  But of course when kids are born, their parents don’t know what they’re going to grow up to be like, and they thus pick names they like, or family names, or names they hope the kids will grow up to be like, or whatever. So this woman’s parents had no idea that the name they so lovingly chose for their daughter would be a little odd, just based on what she looks like, how she carries herself, how she speaks, etc. Now granted that I don’t know her at all, so perhaps I’m wrong and her name suits her beautifully.

Plus, her name is a song from the 60’s, so I’ve had that silly song going around in my head for two days, and I only know a couple of lines of it, so it’s very annoying. The ear worm, I mean, not her name. And no, it’s not Windy, and that’s all I’m going to say. Okay, it’s also not Saffron. There.  Besides, I know more of both of those songs than I do of my current ear worm.

And then I had a brief net meeting after lunch today, and as we were waiting for the database to open, I commented that I was glad my mother hadn’t named me Patience, because I have none. Boy, that would have really sucked! I don’t particularly like it when parents name their children (usually girls) after traits they hope their children will possess.  Just think–my mother could have named me Patience Grace, and I’d have had to listen to all those not-funny jokes every time I get annoyed because things are happening too slowly or not at all, and oy, the comments I’d hear when I fell or bumped into something or fell up the stairs or slipped on nothing and landed on my butt.  Of course, my co-worker stated that I named myself Faith, and that I have plenty, but that’s different. I named myself.

Now you’ll probably be asking yourself, “Isn’t this the woman who said she wanted to have 4 sons so she could name them John, Paul, George, and Ringo?” And you’d be right.  And Ringo’d probably think I didn’t love him as much as the others, but he’d be wrong, because Ringo!  Or I could have chosen their last names, and named my non-existent 4 sons Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, and Starr, and that might have been better for John, Paul, and George, but poor Ringo would be even more miserable.

And yes, I still want a pet Peeve, even though my husband is thoroughly opposed to it. I guess I’ll have to get a fish. Or a pet rock. It can be my Peeve.

I think that the names parents give their children should be temporary. Like placeholders, I suppose, that when the children become adults at the age of 18 (or 17, in the wizarding world), they can choose to keep or add to or get rid of altogether.  I didn’t get rid of any of my names, even though I still don’t feel like a Virginia; I just plopped Faith down in front. And overall, I’m happy with Faith. Are there days where I wonder what I’d be like if I had chosen Claire? Because that was one of the options I was considering. Not really, because Faith is so perfect for me. And my sister, the incomparable Izzybella, not infrequently refers to me as “Oh ye of little” and I think that’s funny.

So now every time I see this particular woman at work, I’m going to be thinking about what I would name her if it were my decision, and if she knew what I was thinking, she’d probably be extremely glad she doesn’t know who I am. I don’t blame her.

Names are such funny things. I mean, all due respect to Shakespeare, and all, but a rose might smell just as sweet no matter what you called it (although if it were named Pungent Pit Sweat, I’d probably take its sweetness for granted and keep my nose far away from it), but the word rose is only beautiful because of what it stands for.

Did any of this make sense? If not, please pardon me. Lay the blame for this nonsensical posting on the fact that I’m mentally singing the two or three lines of a very annoying 60’s song.

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Hmmmmm….

Do you ever wonder if maybe you’ve already lived your life, and the life you’re living right now is hell?

 

No, I don’t really think that, but there are days that I must confess to wondering.

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How does one twist one’s ankle without being aware of it?  This is not a rhetorical question. At some point between 4:15 and 5:00 yesterday afternoon, I twisted my ankle and didn’t notice it. All I noticed was that it suddenly really hurt to put any weight on that foot, and the ankle was starting to swell and throb painfully.

Beside the annoyance of the pain, it was frustrating because I had plans to get some things done around the house. Instead I sat on the sofa with my foot propped on a chair and an ice bag propped on top of my ankle.

I know, I know, best-laid plans and all that. It’s just that it’s a very inconvenient time for them to go a-gleying.

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WWYD?

During my lunch break, I went to the library, as I frequently do. But having planned ahead and made my list of the books I wanted, along with their call numbers, I was in and out in about 10 minutes, which I think is a personal record.

Then I went to a store whose name rhymes with Pig Plots to buy a 3-ring binder and a packet of notebook paper (total with tax: $2.04). When I got to the front to pay, there were two open lanes. One had a miffed-looking customer using the phone, and a harried-looking employee slowly checking people out. There was another line with just two people in it. I got in the latter line. The guy who was at the check stand in front of me (the kid with the 2 bags of snack chips left) bought 3 things for a total after tax of $3.64. He swiped his credit card through the little machine, and the cashier saw a message on her monitor to call for authorization.

She asked the other checker what to do (it was just her 3rd day there). That checker came over, looked at the screen, agreed that she had to call for authorization, but the phone was being used by miffed-looking customer at the other checkstand. So my checker used her cell phone and called for authorization. She hollered to the other worker asking what their merchant ID was, and punched it in. Then she punched in the guy’s credit card number. There was an error. She had to call again. Now there are 2 people behind me, and there is a line of 3-4 people with lots of stuff at the other check stand.

The harried-looking checker called a managerial sort to come over. He came over, looked at the screen, and agreed that he had to call for authorization. There was a phone over by the furniture section, so he went to use that. By this time, the people in line behind me had gone over to the other checkstand, but I was confident the problem was about to be solved. I saw him hang that phone up, and walk over to the harried checker. He had to use that phone, he said.

At that point, I decided to go get in the other line, which by then only had one person in it. As I was standing there waiting for my turn to pay for my items, managerial type turned to the miffed-looking customer on the phone. “I have to call from this phone.”

She stared at him, steely-eyed. “Well I’m not hanging up.”

He tried explaining the situation, and she still refused to hang up. So he hung up for her. As he was then calling for credit card authorization on the guy’s card, miffed woman demanded the number for their corporate office and his name, because he was treating her like cr*p and they owed her money.

I paid my $2.04 and left the store. As I walked to my car, I found myself wondering who was right: the managerial sort who hung up the phone for the miffed customer so that he could take care of another–by then–miffed customer and keep more customers from getting miffed, or the miffed customer, who had been on the phone with her bank trying to get a problem resolved that was allegedly the fault of Pig Plots.

I can’t decide. I don’t really think either of them handled it right, but I don’t know what right would have been. I sympathize with miffed customer, obviously, but as one of the other customers who was held up for a ridiculously long amount of time, I also sympathize with managerial sort.

What would you do?

Oh, and I got a tuna sub from S*ubway afterward. Their tuna is tastilicious. It helped make up for the annoyance at Pig Plots. And fish is supposed to be brain food, so I was hoping it would help me decide which person was right. It didn’t. I still can’t decide.

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I remember reading, years ago, an anecdote about a girl who was applying to college. Her father was given a questionaire to complete about her, and was bemused by a question that asked whether she was a leader.  He thought about it, and then responded that she was not a leader, but she was an excellent follower. A letter of admission soon followed, which stated that in a class of 1999 leaders, it’s good to know they’ll have at least one follower.

I don’t know what I am. Maybe I’m a muddled up mixture of both.

I try to be a peacemaker, as I hate contention. My efforts to make peace, though, frequently blow up in my face, much to my consternation. I like to emulate what I see as the best in my friends, although what’s good for them may not be good for me, so I’m learning to take things slowly.

I wish I could turn back the clock just a little–not to be at a specific space and time–but to regain some old feelings that I’ve misplaced. A time when I was strong and confident in my faith. A time when I still believed I was going to be a mother. Maybe even a time when I actually could have become a mother, if there ever were such a time.

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It amazes me sometimes how quickly my to-do list piles up. It’s not that I lack things that need to be done at home. Trust me–there’s plenty o’ work. Okay, I do sometimes lack motivation and/or energy, but not work.

Now I have 2 dogs. I’ve been known to get away with ignoring the big one if I’m busy with something, unless she has an insanely desperate desire to go outside RIGHT NOW DANGIT!, in which case she is fixing me with a glare so intense that it could burn holes through my body and her nose is approximately half an inch from my face. The little dog has only lived with us since Saturday afternoon, but I can already tell that he will not be ignored. And he’s little enough that he can worm his way in between me and the computer. He will lay on my keyboard and roll on his back begging for a tummy rub. Of course, I immediately scootch him off the keyboard, because I don’t want dog hairs clogging up my lovely new laptop, but you get the point.  And since I can hardly take the little dog for a walk without taking the big dog for a walk, I’ll either be manuevering two dogs at once or else taking two walks.

When Joe and I took them for a walk yesterday, I had the Scout on his leash and he had Molly. The deal was that he would clean up Molly’s poop and I’d clean up Scout’s poop. And yeah, Scout may be little, but trust me, he can poop like nobody’s business. Fortunately for me, he didn’t poop during the walk. He did, however, nearly propel me face-first into the street. The first time was when we first left the house. Joe and Molly were running up the street, and he wanted to run, too. We started running, and then he suddenly stopped dead. I managed to catch myself before falling over him, but it was close. After that he pretty much stayed by either my left foot or my right foot. The problem came when he switched quickly from my left to my right and I nearly stumbled.

I practiced taking both leashes, and it worked okay, so I’m very hopeful that one long walk will take care of me and both dogs. Otherwise they’ll each get their own private shorter walk, because yeah, it’s nice weather now, but I know what summer’s like here! 🙂

And then there’s all the other things that one must do when one gets a new dog. Call the vet, take him in for a check-up and any other shots and things he needs. Oh, and please bring a fresh stool sample so they can check for intestinal parasites. Call the low-cost clinic that the adoption center referred us to so we can schedule the surgery to get him neutered. Call and arrange to start training classes with him. Oh, and better take the big dog as well, and get her into training too.  And while we’re at it, Molly needs to go to the groomer and get her spring shave.

Plus we’re replacing our doors. Joe had bought a back door months ago, but never managed to get it installed. So we decided to just go to Lowe’s, buy a front door and a storm door with doggie door for the back, and get all 3 doors installed at once. Sounds easy, no? We picked out the new front door in minutes flat, and went to find someone to help us. Could he help? No, because first we have to have someone come out and measure the doors to make sure we get the right size door.

So my schedule this week involves leaving the house at 6:30 a.m. Tomorrow I have to take Scout to the vet immediately after work. Wednesday I have to leave for lunch at 10:30, pick up Molly and take her to the groomer, rush back home and wait for the guy from Lowe’s to come measure the doors, rush back to work, work as late as I need to make up for however longer than an hour the lunch errands take, and then go back to the groomer to pick up Molly. Then Joe and I have to go back to Lowe’s and pay for our doors and the installation. After that, someone will call me to schedule installation, and I will of course have to be home for that.

And sometime this week before Joe leaves for his next business trip, we’ve got to finish the bathroom!!!!!!!!!  There’s not much to do–get the floor in, install the toilet, replace the backing board and tile on that one tiny bit of the tub, put up the wallpaper border, and buy new shower curtain/rug/towels.

Oh, and we also have to do his expense report for his last trip so he can pay his corporate credit card bill so he can pay for his next trip. And he, meantime, is in school this week so he’s going to need to study every evening. He also has to take a defensive driving course sometime this week.

Did I mention laundry? We need clean clothes. And food. Cooking, you know. That’s important. And I have an appointment tonight with J., art therapist extraordinaire, so I won’t even be home until 7:30 or 8, depending on how long we end up taking. And I have homework for art therapy, so I work on things throughout the week. Books to read and return to the library. Just, you know, stuff. 

I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m complaining, because I don’t feel complaine-y. I’m just writing everything down on my calendar, and seeing the tasks list and scheduled appointments getting larger and larger and larger. The problem lies in the fact that my available time does not get larger. Curiously enough, the more things I do, the less time I have available for other things.

And I’m dreading going home today because I just know I’m going to find tufts of stuffing from the sofa all over the floor. It’s old and ratty, and the cushions got rips in them. And my foot caught in one of the smallish rips yesterday and made a big rip. And we’re probably buying Sarah-Bear’s old living room furniture, but she’s going to need it until she moves into her new house, which probably won’t be any sooner than the 1st. On the positive side, though, her living room furniture is espresso-brown microfiber. We have two black dogs, one of whom sheds profusely. So microfiber is good, right? The hair just vacuums right up, right? Please tell me it does. Will mud come off it? Dog slobber?  Dog barf? I’m hoping!!

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The incomparable Izzybella has, for years now, maintained that I don’t carry a handbag. I carry a suitcase. I’ve always argued that point with her. Sure, I like large bags, but that just means I like large handbags.

Tonight, however, I may be forced to concede her point. Here is everything that I pulled out of my handbag tonight when I emptied it:

  • cell phone
  • prescription medicine bottle (I had called in for a refill and never put the almost-empty bottle back where it belongs)
  • padded envelope I was planning to use again but is now so battered I must throw it in the recycle bin
  • book: The Wisdom Well – Ivarna Kalinkova
  • printouts of 4 Indian recipes, 4 Thai recipes, and 4 Korean recipes (what? I like Asian & Indian food)
  • Flyer about a grand opening from a drugstore (great deals & some good coupons)
  • My 2008 Weekly/Monthly At-A-Glance calendar with an article from Soleil’s yoga magazine
  • book: Low Calorie Indian – Manjit Singh Gill
  • Wadded up receipt for my last Avon order
  • drugstore receipt that needs to go into my medical receipts folder
  • book: Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone – J.K. Rowling
  • catering menu from Chili’s
  • book: Chakras and Their Archetypes: Uniting Energy Awareness and Spiritual Growth – Ambika Wauters
  • small hairbrush
  • book: Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo – Obert Skye
  • letter from a friend that I haven’t yet opened because I shoved it into the bag and forgot about it
  • wadded up envelope from a greeting card I purchased for the picture
  • My art therapy journal
  • book: Strong Poison – Dorothy L. Sayers
  • script: Keely and Du – Jane Martin
  • checkbook for the family account
  • CD: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Once More, With Feeling
  • wadded up Arby’s receipt when I got dinner for myself and Joe the other night
  • wadded up Whataburger receipt from breakfast the other day
  • wadded up Sonic receipt (there appears to be a theme here. I eat fast food too often)
  • keys (they don’t belong in my bag; they belong on the hook by the front door and they’re going there as soon as I finish this list)
  • wallet, containing various forms of identification, cards, insurance cards, wadded up receipts, and 4 pennies
  • coin purse containing 4 pennies
  • lipstick
  • Biofreeze (it’s for when I get muscle pain and it doesn’t stink and it’s in a handy roll-on tube and I can’t believe I just pulled that out of my bag)
  • Aveeno Intense Relief Medicated Therapy lip balm
  • wadded up Popeye’s receipt
  • wadded up straw wrapper
  • purple roller ball pen
  • wadded up Half Price Books receipt
  • wadded up business card with a hairstylist’s phone number on it
  • empty wrapper from the root beer barrel I had after dinner last Saturday night
  • checkbook from my personal account
  • wadded up 7-11 receipt
  • wadded up receipt from China Town (they have great hot & sour soup)
  • pair of scissors (huh?)
  • headphones & iPod nano
  • sunglasses
  • 1/3 of a roll of antacids
  • blue roller ball pen
  • black roller ball pen
  • another black roller ball pen
  • another wadded up straw wrapper
  • receipt from library showing the items and due dates of material I checked out on February 10th
  • a quarter, a dime, a nickel, and two pennies
  • a pair of reading glasses
  • a glasses case with another pair of reading glasses
  • a tube of Burt’s Bees lip balm
  • 4 dimes
  • a hematite ring
  • a small bottle with the healing oil Amethyst compounded for me

I think Izzybella may be right. However, the receipts and straw wrappers are now in the trash. The books and recipes are about to be put into the bookcase; my cell phone’s going to get plugged in; the keys will be hung up, and my purse will be about 10 pounds lighter. So it won’t be a suitcase anymore.

Until I’ve got it loaded up again by next Friday night.

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