One’s Trash is Another’s … Art.

While randomly browsing (the web), I ran across a site (Balance::Installation Summary and Layout ) that has collected and posted a gallery of ATM receipts, left behind by unsuspecting or careless individuals.

If I walk up to an ATM and there is an abandoned receipt hanging out, you can be absolutely certain that I am nosey enough to read it. Apparently I’m not the only one, because Odd Todd found one on which the balance in the person’s checking account was more *by a lot* than I make in a year. He kept it, just like I would, knowing what a gem of a conversation piece it really was.

I never, ever leave receipts behind, unless I pay cash and toss it in a trash bin on my way out the door.

When I get home, I record all of my debit / credit transactions into the check register and then shred each receipt. I do this without fail, unless it is something for someone else, then I wait to collect from them before shredding the receipts; or if it is a gift, waiting to be sure it fits or is a gift they do not wish to return.

Apparently, not everyone takes an active interest in protecting their privacy.

Interrupted Slumber

I am currently at the beginning of the declination stage of my sleep cycle, meaning I get less during each attempt.

In the past two weeks, I’ve been sleeping well; and that is tapering off and turning back into the torturous sleeplessness for which I am notorious for writing about.

Tonight, despite being exceptionally tired, I am unable to sleep; although I did get close earlier. I almost made it. I was at the edge, peering over. It was so close I could almost reach out and touch it. I stretched, stretched. It was now less than half an inch away (figuratively speaking). At the very moment I was about to jump to grab it, the dog, for lack of a better descriptive phrase, attacked the cat. Not with teeth and muzzle, but with vocalization. A single, grumbly, high-pitched warning that at best I can assume implied “ownership” of whatever bunny, opossum, skunk, stray cat, or whatever it was that had ventured into our yard.

This meant that I had to get up to determine whether he had actually used teeth and muzzle, or simply articulated impatience with the cat; who was most likely only trying to peek out the window to see what the dog was so excited about in the first place.

Once I scolded the dog, sent him to his room (kennel/crate/cubby), and inspected the cat; who was still standing by the window wondering what in the hell had just happened, I returned to my bed. I tried (unsuccessfully) for about an hour to find the edge of sleep again. The room,at 68 degrees Fahrenheit, felt too warm; and opening the windows would have allowed an abundance of noise from nearby roadways, barking dogs and distant trains to further prohibit my progress.

For the next hour, I continued to attempt to regulate my breathing pattern, push all thoughts, worries, unresolved conflicts and unfinished projects aside and sleep. Finally I gave up and decided to read some news (from the comfort of the laptop and my bed). It’s helping, my eyes are feeling heavy.

Roasted Vegetables

I didn’t pay much attention at first– I had noticed her loud ranting from the time I walked into the grocery store. Her voice had that nasaly nagging quality to it. I was selecting tomatoes. She was somewhere behind me saying something about “roast vegetables”.

I glanced in the direction of the annoying voice, and spotted a short, round, blonde woman in her forties. She was wearing a t-shirt that was too short, and turquiose sweat pants tucked into black boots. She was talking to the produce department employee. While I could not see his face, his body language was not unlike a rabbit that is plotting it’s escape before the wolf pounces.

Since I could not hear anything he was saying, I will just include some of what she was saying.

Can you roast this? I want to do roast vegetables you know when you roast them? It’s a turnip. Can it be Roasted? Can you roast turnips?

The produce guy said something indiscernable, then walked over to another area and continued to re-arrange fruit.

The woman started yelling, Hello? I’m not done with you helping me yet. I need you to STAY HERE until I’m done.

That was when I started to pay more attention to them, thinking, “This should be good.” I couldn’t believe she would just stand around the produce department yelling at the guy. He walked back over to her, and she began to hammer him with questions about which vegetables can be roasted. He said something else to her and exits through the doors marked EMPOYEES ONLY.

She made her way closer to me, and began yelling, to nobody in particular.
Garlic! GARLIC! Gar-LIC!? Garrrrlic. (She was standing right next to the garlic.)

Bags, I can’t find the damned bags where are the damed bags in this place?

At that point I walked over to the garlic, grabbed a bag (which was right below the garlic). I actually did this with exaggerated movement (and a snap of the wrist to open the bag); which I did on purpose to show her that obviously the bags are right where they should be and she was just missing them. I selected a few heads of garlic, put them in my cart and walked away.

An apron-clad employee happened to pass through the produce department, and the woman zoned in on him like a heat directed missle. She cornered the young man, who was not a produce department employee but one of the bag-boys.

Can you roast turnips? Where did the other worker go? I asked him and he said he had to go look it up and he never came back. I don’t appreciate him not coming back. You need to go find him. Can you roast turnips? I want to roast vegetables and I need SOMEONE TO TELL ME if YOU CAN ROAST THESE.

I looked at the guy next to me, and I said (very quietly) You can roast any root vegetable, but I’m not about to help this woman because she will just follow me around the store all day asking me questions about crap.”

The woman leaves the produce department, I can’t see her, but I can hear her somewhere by the meat department. I was in Seafood, and asked the woman behind the counter where I could find the Mahi-Mahi. I could hear that bitchy woman yakkity yakking non-stop and I looked in the direction of her mind-numbing voice.

The seafood lady looked in the direction of the annoying woman and said, “She’s like that every time she is here.”

“Is that right?” I asked. “Well, I’m just hoping to finish my shopping without running directly into her.”

I don’t know where the lady went after that. I just wanted to get my food and get out of there. I think she either got frustrated with the lack of cooperation from the employees and left, or she located the original produce guy and had in cornered somewhere.

Sticks and Stones

Sometimes, when we are angry or upset, we speak before we think. During those times, I think many of us would consider pop-up warning like this one to be practical. Wouldn’t it be nice, if in life had the ability to think ahead several steps, not unlike a computer playing a game of chess? Unfortunately, Strategic Expression is not a concept that most of us are familiar with.

There is an over used saying that Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me. The thing is, when we all used this saying as children, we said it in self-defense, because whoever was teasing, bashing, or bullying us was indeed hurting us. Why else would we feel the need to say anything back? It is, after all a form of SELF DEFENSE. In order to DEFEND, someone must be there to OFFEND.

Sadly, our brains often do not display a flashy little pop-up dialogue window, warning that what we are about to say most likely will cause some degree of damage to the person we say it to, and wait for confirmation before allowing whatever it is to be said.

When I was younger, there was a kid named Guy who lived on our street. He constantly teased and bullied other kids, and particularly liked victims who were five or more years younger than himself. I do not know what happened to this person to make him so mean. He was mean to everyone, not even small animals were spared. He stole our bikes and broke our toys. He threatened to shoot us with his beebee gun, played with matches and lighters, threw firecrackers at our feet and carried a pocket knife. He was the type of kid that would throw rocks at dogs. He was notorious for teasing kids that were different or had disabilities; anything from braces and eye glasses to wheel chairs. He constantly threatened us, and we feared him.

A few years later, Guy’s brother came home from the Marines. We all watched as the nineteen year old verbally pummeled his brother, his booming voice berating Guy with harsh words and insults while holding him down with one massive Marine arm. Nobody ran for help. Nobody asked why. We simply watched from the safety of the hedge across the street; eight young, wide-eyed, open mouthed spectators. I am not usually one to condone violence, but at the time, if I had been asked to describe it in one word, I would have answered, “Justice”.

As an adult, I realize how profoundly our words can impact a person. More importantly, I recognize the inability to retract them once they are spoken. I have been guilty of speaking before I think — anyone that claims that they have never done that is deluded. I try to think ahead of the moment and surmise the outcome for both myself and the other person or people involved.

Yes, words can hurt as much as sticks and stones, but the wounds from sticks and stones eventually fade.

To Whom it May Concern: This is not about you. If you wondered if it was about you, then you might want to consider some of the things you have said to other people lately. If you haven’t been mean to anybody, then you have nothing to worry about.

Huh. I Didn’t Know That.

ABOUT VALENTINE?S DAY: “The Dating Games of Ancient Rome
Contrary to what many may believe, Valentine?s Day is not a made-up ‘greeting card’ occasion. It actually is a real holiday whose origins stretch back to the root of the word romance, the days of Imperial Rome.”

The article warns readers that Florists “jack up” the prices of roses this time of year. That isn’t exactly news. I prefer tulips to roses anyway.

Caption This

It’s Almost Been a Week? Already?

I meant to post about this much earlier, but for some reason it didn’t happen.

I went to a Superbowl party on Sunday. I received a phone call on Saturday afternoon, extending a last-minute invitation to join some people for a gathering given by a friend-of-some friends. I gladly accepted, since I had not made other plans.

Dennis (remember him?) and his wife and two kids showed up not long after I did. They brought “too much alcohol” (for a gathering of five adults), and kept insisting that I should “lighten up and have a drink”. In response, I kept politely declining, stating that I had to work later, but thanks anyway. For some reason they just didn’t seem to get it.

I didn’t particularly care who won the game this year. I don’t think I even took the time to watch one football game in it’s entirety all season. I guess I’ve had other things on my mind. (Surely in some of your eyes, that is enough to condemn me to hell.)

The host realized as the game was starting, when he attempted to fire up the (propane) grill, that there was no propane. Since his wife and I were the only people who had not been drinking; we went in search of a bottle. Yeah, we actually went out on Superbowl Sunday at 3 in the afternoon trying to find a bottle of Propane. We got incredibly lucky and got the last bottle (at the first store we hit).

When we (finally) got to eat, Dennis’s brother, who was in town for the week; and whom I had never met up until this party, was displaying odd behavior, not unlike Jared, who is the most annoying person I have ever met.

I observed him double dip a chip, then LICK his fingers (audibly) – then reach the same licky hand back into the bag of chips for more. He did this more than one time. He noticed me LOOKING at him doing this. He then looked at his hand, wiped it on his shirt, and got more chips — which he put on a plate.

I made no bets, therefore; I am neither richer or poorer than I was on Saturday. Dennis’s wife, in an attempt to sound profound, made the following statement at some point during the 1st quarter of the game:

“Wow. I just realized something. The Eagles and the Patriots!! This is a very Patriotic game! That is so Cool! Get it? The EAGLES are patriotic. and the PATRIOTS! Do you get it?”

I’m No Chicken, I’m a Rooster!

The Rooster is a flamboyant personality, feisty and obstinate. He is quite the extrovert who loves to strut his stuff and is proud of who he is. Outwardly confident, the Rooster is also a trustworthy, hardworking individual. He’ll tell it like it is with no qualms or reservations.

Years of the Rooster:

Rooster Years are tenth in the cycle following the Monkey Years, and recur every twelfth year. The Chinese New Year does not fall on a specific date, so it is essential to check the calendar to find the exact date on which each Rooster Year actually begins. 1909*1921*1933*1945*1957*1969*1981*1993*2005

THE SIGN OF THE ROOSTER

Roosters are very loyal individuals. They do not like dishonesty or mockery of any sort. They are blunt, up front and honest people and expect those around them to be the same. Roosters are happiest when they are surrounded by others, at a party or just a social gathering. They even enjoy the spotlight and will exhibit their charisma and wit in a minute. This star quality can be overbearing, for a Rooster expects you to listen to him while he speaks and can become agitated if you don’t. Roosters do have a tendency to brag about themselves and their achievements and demand an attentive audience when doing so.

ROOSTER FACTS:

People born in the Year of the Rooster share certain characteristics. The Rooster Sign is an abbreviated way of characterizing that individual’s personality. Following are features associated with the Sign of the Rooster.

Tenth in order, Chinese name: JI, sign of honesty

Hour: 5pm-6:59pm Month:September

Western Counterpart: Virgo (Which is actually my sign under our Zodiac – August 28th)

CHARACTERISTICS

Brave, Romantic, Motivated, Proud, Blunt, Resentful, Boastful

More from this source

More about the Rooster

Lastly: One more.

Silent Movie

They were walking along the streets downtown, and you could tell that they were discussing something important; only there was no sound so I don’t know what was being said. It was early afternoon and probably sometime in the Spring. At one point, she stopped walking and turned to face him.

She laughed, seemingly in disbelief over something he had said, shook her head, said something, then continued walking. He stood there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what she meant by what she said.

He runs to catch up to her, several stores up from where they had stopped. She was looking at something in a shop window, with her arms folded across her chest. She wouldn’t look at him.

Somewhere, a telephone was ringing. It was then that I realized that I was asleep and I woke up and answered the phone.

What Did that Say? (I love Tivo)

Not too long ago, I had mentioned the familiar but often ignored video clips that some production companies display at the end of certain television shows. Specifically, I mentioned the varieties of foods that “Where’s Lunch?” productions has at the end of Everybody Loves Raymond. Whether or not you watch the shows after which these little near-subliminal messages appear; you may have seen them when you change the channel and catch the ending credits.

A few days ago, I noticed that at the end of the credits for Dharma and Greg, is a black background with white text. I never really paid too much attention to what it actually said, I only noticed that it sayd “Chuck Lorre Productions #??” followed by what I had assumed was some sort of disclaimer in smaller print. My eye happened to catch some of the text in the short time this (he calls it a vanity plate) appears on the screen, which read: all work and no play makes chuck a dull boy repeatedly.

What caught my eye in a fragment of a glance was that there was something else in the block of the mantra. I went to the Chuck Lorre Productions website and found that he has provided the different vanity plates – one for each episode it seems.

On the site, he explains what they are, his reason for having them, and has each vanity plate (a different one for each episode) for you to read in case you don’t have Tivo and the ability to PAUSE it (like I did). Spend a little time there. Tell him I sent you.