Random? I'll Show You Random.

In a last-ditch effort to remove the 72 Post-its that have accumulated from my car, I’m going to have to go totally random on you.

Okay. STOP rolling your eyes at me. I am NOT usually random from the very BEGINNING. It is usually a gentle, rolling kind of random…like a butterfly-filled, daisies-blowing-in-the-breeze, hillside-on-a-beautiful-summer-day kinda random. Today’s will be more like a *SPLAT!*, pie-in-the-face kinda random.

You’ll be fine. Just keep you arms inside the vehicle at all times.

What’s the deal with these guys who leave these blanket general comments on your site and then expect you to visit theirs? Example: Comment left by Roger Sherbert: “Your post has brought up many interesting and thought-provoking arguments. I have enjoyed it very much. Visit my blog at www.RogerSherbertIsProbablyASpammer.com” So, I head over to Roger’s place and leave the following comment: “Wow, Rog. Who knew that wearing neon-green leg warmers to a Nascar event would cause such a stir? I hope that scene when you were chased across the track while you screamed like a little girl doesn’t accidentally make it onto YouTube. I’d like my headband back, when you get a chance. Great post!”


How many different kinds of salt do they sell for water softeners? You would think just ONE, right? Well, you would be wrong. I made a last-minute (tires screeching) pit stop into a hardware store to pick up more bags of salt. I walk in and tell the lady behind the counter that I need some salt for my water-softener-thingie.
She responds with, “What size?”
Me: “I don’t know. The regular size. Not too big…on the smaller side, but still pretty heavy. It’s been a while since I’ve bought any.”
Hardware Store Lady: “Uh huh. What kind?”
Me: “Uh.”
HSL: “What color bag?”
Me: “Um. Green?”
HSL: “There is no green.”
Kathryn’s eyes dart this way & that…looking for the hidden camera. “Blue?”
HSL: “How many bags do you want?”
I figured from here, I was golden. I paid and drove around back to have the burly hardware guy load ‘em into my trunk.
Me: “That’s not the bag I usually get.”
He: “Do you get the pellets or the crystals?”
Me: “I don’t know what they’re called! They’re about thiiiis big (tries to scrunch pointer finger and thumb to resemble a gnarly-shaped, Styrofoam-peanut kinda shape)
He: “Ah. That would be your pellets. She charged you for the wrong one.”
**Now, I’m sure to remember for next time. I’ll just remember Pellets=Crap.**

The other day, I had 5 stops to make: Staples, gas, vet, food and wine. “S,G,V,F,W.”
How am I going to remember this? Ah! I’ll use Mom’s handy-dandy remembering-trick: I’ll assign a word for each letter and fashion some easy-to-remember phrase!
“Some Goon Voted For Wilma.” “Sweet God! Veronica Forgot Whiskey!” “So, Gordon Visited Fiona’s Wallpaper.” “Spit Gobs Vary From Whittling.” I gave up after that.

One more pink Post-it: My neck and shoulders tend to get stiff from sitting in front of laptop for hours at a time. If Taylor’s around, he’ll sometimes spontaneously give me a neck massage…which is THE MOST PAINFUL, EXCRUCIATING, AGONIZING, JAW-CLENCHING massage you’ve ever felt. (I do believe it’s all those video games he plays…it’s made his hands powerful, deadly weapons of destruction.) I bite back the shrieks of pain as he kneads the hell out of what is left of the tendons in my neck and shoulders and through gritted teeth I exclaim, “Wazzn’t dat nize? Tanks zo mush, honey”….as I feel the burn radiating down both arms. It’s probably the nicest, most crippling moment we spend together these days.

Okay. I’m done. That wasn’t so bad…now was it?