Category Archives: Humor

The laundromat ‘muses’ back

And on a Sunday no less!  Talk about timing!

I moderate my comments.  I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t approve – but it’s good to have the option.

I’m alerted in my email box when I have a comment – and here’s one I received today:

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I haven’t clicked on the source, but I think it’s safe to assume it’s probably not from my laundromat.

There’s almost a sad facet to this – considering someone promoting laundry services probably searched the topic and up came my blog.

Has it come to this?  People can find my words – my soul and my heart by putting ‘laundry’ in the search box?   LOL!

Well played laundromat, well played. You have amused me.

2014 I’ll be sure to make an effort to add more exciting search terms to my life.

Musings from the laundromat: Black Friday edition

It’s a rare day today – the second in a row that I haven’t had to go to work.  Well, not to the building that pays me anyway.

I woke at 5 am, with Butters breathing in my face.  I could feel her staring at me and confirmed it by peeking under my lashes at her very close face.

Let’s chat about Butters a second, because after I got up, let her out, switched the coffee on and went back to bed – I found the most hilarious photo posted to my Facebook wall.

I had shared some Thanksgiving photos and put one of my canine manatee up last night.

This one to be precise.

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There was a comment and an altered photo from my son’s girlfriend Chelsea.  If you’re familiar with the Doge meme, you’ll find it as hilarious as I did (I still insist on pronouncing ‘Doge’ like ‘vogue’ not ‘Doje’ with the ‘j’ sound the internet has declared to be correct.  Such Shibe.  Much there’s an ‘e’ on the end – pronounce the vowel as it is in the alphabet!)

Anyway – meme grammar tangent.

Here’s the doctored photo:

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SO funny.

I already loved Chelsea, but it’s sealed now.

Anyway – so I’m laughing in bed at ‘Are-you-freaking-kidding-me O’Clock’ and decide to take advantage of this extra day off and finish preparing for my guest.

I grabbed a cup of coffee – made a list (no, I didn’t check it twice Nic) which didn’t have too much on it, but I knew had to go to the bank and get a money order to pay my rent and decided the best place to go was right next to it – Walmart.

It didn’t occur to me, until after I was showered and dressed and determined – that it was Black Friday.

A fun fact about me – once I’ve decided on something, I will not change my mind.  I will not wait.  I will go about accomplishing whatever it is I’ve decided to accomplish, no matter what.  (This has resulted in tattoos, a nose piercing and a Vegas wedding.)

Some people call me stubborn.

Some people would be very right. (Such stubborn.  Much pig-headed.)

Bottom line, I was GOING to Walmart – Black Friday stampedes be damned.

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Traffic wasn’t bad as I left the house at about 8:15.  Hit green lights most of the way and a good amount of tension left my stubborn shoulders.  Even watched a coyote cross the road.  (No, I don’t know why – probably he was following the chicken.)

Pulled into the shopping center – and realized the bank wasn’t open yet.

Okay – Walmart first.

I’ve never been to Walmart on Black Friday.  I’ve heard the tales – read the stories about trampled people and broken limbs – shopping shenanigans.  So I was bracing myself and when I approached the store …

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Okay, it wasn’t that empty.  But I easily found a parking spot, a cart, and this claustrophobic shopper was quite comfortable inside.

No mayhem!

I was in and out in 15 minutes with only the items on my list.  I did spy some Black Friday queuing in the electronics department – that was fun.  I walked by and looked upon them with amusement.  Much as you would an exhibit at a museum or a fair.

(Such shoppers.  So Savvy.  Much money savers.)

One of my best friends works at the bank – so I got a hug as she opened the door for the half-dozen people waiting outside.  Things were going so smoothly!

Drove to the property management company, money order in hand.  Popped that into their drop box and headed home.

Green lights.  Nice commute.  Wow.

I was still in determined mode when I got home.  AND somehow had energy to back my plans with action.

Lit a candle,  put on some Christmas music and went to work.

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Cleaned out the fridge, scrubbed the floor, bathed the dog(e), cleaned the tub – then the rest of the main bathroom.  Went through the pantry – even washed the little salt and pepper shaker.

7 hours after having Butter breath in my face, I was still motivated enough to gather the laundry and come here.

And here I am.

Breezing through Black Friday like a pro and stubbornly accomplishing more than one person has a right to accomplish without a cape and an alter ego.

Am wondering though, what the hell this restless girl is going to do all weekend!

Because it won’t be this:

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Parades, phalanges and procrastination

Thanksgiving.

It’s freezing in my house.  A chilly 70 degrees.  Yes, that’s cold.  When you’re used to temps in the 120’s.

I can barely feel my toes.  I refuse to turn the heater up – I just got the electricity bill down from the Summer.  I don’t need the gas bill competing with it.

Since my son was church mousing around the house at 4 in the morning, I’m sure I won’t be seeing his bright-eyed face until it’s almost time to go to my parents house this afternoon.

So, Butters and I have been watching the Thanksgiving Day parades and pacing.  Mostly I’m pacing.  She’s relocated a few times.

I can never sit still.

I go from room to room – swipe my email update – check Facebook – go to another room – make a mental list of everything that needs to be done in said room, then leave it.

I’m bathed – dressed – and bored.

I’m sure there’s someone out there completely inundated with people and activity that would love to switch places with me.

They would know better what to do with boredom.  Not me.  I am restless!

Unmotivated and restless.

It’s a really bad combination of things to be.  I could have had at least 3 projects crossed off my list right now if I had a teeny tiny bit of motivation in me this morning.

I think by typing I feel like I’m getting something accomplished – besides, it keeps my fingers from freezing.

Speaking of fingers.  Yesterday I managed to staple my finger …

I happened to have two people in my office at the time – and much to their amusement I did the ‘Is it bad?? OMG, I don’t want to look … IS it bad?? Look … no, wait – don’t look’ thing.  All whilst giggling.

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One visitor took photos while the other said “Oh, yeah, that’s in there.” Then proceeded to leave me.

Not before announcing to my boss in the room across from us, “She stapled her finger,” to which there was no response.

I think he’s pretty used to hearing anything when it comes to a) Announcements (muttering, unprovoked fits of laughter, cursing) from my office b) Updates from other people as to what Amanda has managed to do now.  He’s desensitized.  Can’t blame him really.

Probably he managed an eyeroll – maybe even sighed a little.

I was laughing and wondering if the femoral artery got anywhere near the finger tip –  (It could!  Well … if you’re scratching your leg) then just bravely strolled to the kitchen, grabbed a bandaid from the friend that left, turned on the faucet and yanked the offending staple from my sore phalange.

It really wasn’t bad at all.  Provided a little excitement on a day that was crawling by.  (I swear, the clock was taking one tick forward and two ticks back!)

Much like today.  Some teeny bopper is singing with Ninja Turtles on the tv.  Butters is sleeping in the living room and I’m shivering at the kitchen table.

For the sake of not becoming hypothermic – I shall bid you all a Happy Thanksgiving (And Hanukkah!)  and start one of my projects.

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Musings from the Laundromat: ‘The day I lied about a King’ Edition

Sigh.

I had to do the walk of shame to the customer counter a little while ago.

“My washing machine stopped.” I said.

Which, while true, wasn’t the whole truth.  I needed more time to work up the courage to come clean. (No pun intended.)

The laundromat lady followed me back to my little cluster of machines I was currently using  – and I fessed up.

“I put a quilt in there – but it’s thin.  I thought it would be okay.”

Now,  it IS thin – but it’s also filled with down and King sized.

“What size is it?”

“Umm …” I played innocently with a wet corner of the comforter, as we both peered into the water filled, unmoving interior.  “I’m not sure.”

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LIAR!

My inner honest-self was scowling at me.  Fiercely.

Luckily, a simple twist of a key in a secret compartment started the machine up again.

I returned to my spot at the Umbrella table and let the shame wash over me.  (Again, no pun intended.)

Karma is a bitch sometimes.

The reason I was washing my down comforter, is because it’s been a little chilly at night.  I had stored it in one of those plastic bags that you vacuum the air out of.

A year of sitting in plastic DEFINITELY left its mark.  I unzipped the bag and it smelled like a melted baby doll factory!  Only worse.  A melted unhygienic baby doll factory.

So disgusting.

I paid extra for fabric softener – used Oxygenated detergent … pulled that thing out of the washing machine (while feathers attacked me) and could STILL smell ‘that’ smell.

I bought two very over-priced fabric softener sheets and trotted over to the next contraption.  “THE EXTRACTOR”

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This was recommended to me by the laundromat lady.  Because, and I quote, “You’ve got to get those things really dry, otherwise the feathers will smell.”

I was thinking it couldn’t possibly smell worse, but I wasn’t going to take my chances.   Melted unhygienic doll baby factory with a hint of wet dead bird isn’t my idea of what something with the word ‘comfort’ in it should smell like.

It didn’t help to see this little picture on the machine – only adding to the macabre images in my head.

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This thing was going to twist my arm off.

Because I lied.

Okay, it didn’t twist my arm off – but when I did find the courage to reach into “THE EXTRACTOR” I was again attacked by feathers and ‘the smell’.

I then put the offending quilt in a ‘special’ recommended dryer.  I felt so guilty about lying to the laundromat lady, that I dutifully used it and paid extra for the damn thing.  

It was specially designed for comforters – and cost more than the regular ones. For three times the price, it offered more space, hotter air and the use of 4 tennis balls “So it doesn’t bunch up” the laundromat lady explained. 

Add to the mix two over priced dryer sheets and a prayer.

I sat, displaced from even the rainbow umbrella table – like an exiled criminal, in the front corner of the building.  Serves me right for lying.  

When the machine finally stopped, I opened the door and reached in … sniffed a little.  Not bad.  But could be better. 

It’s now currently outside hanging off of the porch – having been sprayed with ‘Sleep Serenity’ bedding refresher. 

I then noticed the tag –

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Sigh.

Words

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Thinking a lot about words lately.  Ever since my friend that visited the other night said I deserved something.

Deserve sounds like a grabby, greedy, Veruca Salt word to me.  Like you could insert ‘entitled to’ instead and have the sentence come out the same way.

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I don’t think I ‘deserve’ anything.  In fact, I’m very lucky I have NOT ‘got what I deserve’ lol

I prefer to think in terms of ‘am I worthy of that?’.  But, the definition is the same.  It’s just the way ‘deserved’ is used and abused … the lightness and worthiness has been taken out of the word for me.

Strange isn’t it.

Words.

My friend, Lisa, sends me a quote every weekday and it’s funny how often we differently interpret the words, and in turn, the meaning of them.

Today’s was:

“You have not converted a man because you have silenced him.”

— John Morley,

I took it to mean: because someone isn’t voicing their opposition to your beliefs anymore, doesn’t mean they share them.

She took it to mean: being silenced in a violent manner may shut them up, but did not have an overall impact on their opinion.

I told her I loved that we saw things differently and end up meeting in the middle. And I do.

This afternoon I was speaking to an account executive that I’m friendly with and we spoke of words.

She has a co-worker who likes to say ‘Coral’ just because he likes the sound of it.  So he’ll ask random things like, ‘that blouse, is it Coral?’ 

He’s apparently been using ‘commiserate’ a lot lately too.  Usually incorrectly, as long as he can squeeze it into a sentence.

That cracks me up.  I love it.  I would love that person if I knew them.

Just the fun of using a word you like.  Not even caring if it fit the situation. I’m smiling thinking about it.  How many ways he finds to say ‘coral’ every day. 

It’s charming really.

I have my favorite words – and they are favorites not because of their meanings, but because of how they feel coming out of my mouth.  (hush)

I’m ALWAYS saying ‘bonkers!’  “That’s bonkers!” In fact, if I had another animal, I’d probably name it Bonkers.  Could you imagine? Butters and Bonkers?

I love the word pancake.  I was never a huge fan of ‘cake’ the actual food – until lately – so I get to say ‘cake’ a lot but it’s not as satisfying as ‘pancake’.

I like to say shenanigans, tangent, plethora and juxtaposition too.

You’ve got to know what you’re doing when you throw ‘juxtaposition’ around. I’ve done it successfully here in a few posts – and I’m always internally giving myself a high-five when I do pull it off.

It’s funny to me that my friend doesn’t like it.  How different we all are. 

How words touch us in such varied ways. 

Some of her favorite words are: filibuster, skulk and kitteh.  (I wasn’t going to argue that ‘kitteh’ isn’t a word – but it is in the meme world.  And how do you define a word anyway?  If it can be verbally accomplished and spelled isn’t that a word?)

It’s really just a shame I have a problem communicating orally – I have SO many words I want to use out loud.

Until I garner that skill – I’ll just keep typing them here.

Happy Friday … Coral!!!