Step on it
[ 5 Comments ] Posted on 06.28.05 in observations, food
I think it’s cute when microwavable products have an extra step on the tail end of their preparation directions that reads, “Enjoy.”
And here I was planning to painfully stomach the ravioli that I voluntarily made for my own satisfaction in a manner that resembles a whiny baby mouthing unhappily the pink medicine that is being forced upon him by his mother. Shucks.
A Thousand Words
[ 4 Comments ] Posted on 06.24.05 in complaints, high school
I just got back from getting my senior portrait taken at the local photography studio. It took about 50 minutes, 45 of which consisted of standing in the waiting room and reading car magazines.
During my wait, I got to listen to the conversations of multiple whining menopausal mothers who thought that the process was taking far too long. Granted, the sitting took a good while, but on the post card they received in the mail months ago that remained ignored until presently, it warns of a wait of about an hour.
Did they realize that Bryn-Alan Photography is in charge of each and every senior’s portrait every year? And did they realize that the photographers can only work in one studio because that is all they have? Probably not, as they are not necessarily in positions to be privy to that knowledge.
They failed to take into consideration the fact that these people were not sitting in the back and playing Yahtzee – they work their tails off to get children in and out in an attempt to make things go quasi smoothly.
I realize that I’m treading potentially hypocritical ground here, but I thought that such a social observation would be necessary before any of you jokers walk in to get your senior portrait and start complaining.
Swingtown
[ 6 Comments ] Posted on 06.18.05 in funny stories, friends
Yesterday, I spent a good deal of time carting my great friend Ying around town because she needed a chauffeur whilst her car was being repaired at the Honda dealership in Pinellas Park. Because we were in South County already, we decided to make a stop at her favorite fast food restaurant and then, because we are a couple of crazy kids, we found a nifty park wherein we could play on the swings.
I swear, these swings were like rocking death seats. With every glide back and forth, these things would let out a piercing sound that, from what I could guess, resembled the mating call of a blue whale. The seats were so low and awkwardly bent just enough to make the pain in our butts noticeable without actually causing them to go numb after a few minutes of swinging.
Other than that, though, the overall swinging experience was fun. That is, of course, until it tuckered us out – an occurrence that didn’t take ten minutes to become a reality. At the end of our swing session, my biceps were strained from grabbing, by legs were dead from kicking, and my ambition was ripped at the seams. I just wanted to sit on a bench somewhere.
Seriously, how do little kids do it? They can tackle monkey bars, teeter-totters, slides, and swings like they claim the local playground as the primary residence on their 1040 form in May. They must be little balls of insane amounts of energy. Either that or they constantly snort cocaine.