bad shrimp

So, I was on my way to synagogue this morning and was suffering from a bout of agita (bastardized Sicilian/American for upset stomach). So, I stopped at a gas station for the nector of the gods, Vernors.

Just as an aside, I've never known anyone outside the Mitten who liked Vernors. And, really, I've never known anyone who was from the Mitten but not from the Detroit area to even like Vernors.

So, I grabbed the Vernors from the case, took it up to the counter and handed the guy behind the counter a 20 dollar bill. It was early and he couldn't change it. He said the computer was down and he couldn't open the register. He told me he needed exact change. Well, all I had was my 20. So, I told him that I lived a mile away and I promised I'd come back later on if he let me take the pop. I was desperate and I wasn't even thinking that of course I could stop at another gas station for pop. So, he said yes.

Later on, I came back with my one dollar and 35 cents that I owed him. I was expecting some sort of fanfare and was disappointed at the lack of joy on his part that I came back. I had thought that they never expected to see their buck 35 and I was doing a great thing by returning. Of course, I didn't get the fanfare and I didn't deserve it anyway. I was just doing what I said I was going to do. Nothing more. I didn't deserve any praise. I was just being egotistical about the whole thing.

The moral of the story. When your friend gives you reasons not to eat shrimp at 9:30 at night, heed their advice.

shoes

I recently discovered a smart way to save money. I suffer from SRSS (stress-related shoe shopping). In times of stress, I can spend quite a few dollars to alleviate my stress and give myself that high that one gets from purchasing the perfect pair of shoes. Well, I believe I have been cured of my SRSS thanks to downloadable music. You see, if one suffers from a bout of stress in the evening, such as hypothetically having an argument with one's aunt at 9:00 on a Tuesday night, one cannot run to the shoe department at Macy's and pick up a new pair of Liz Claiborne slides (yes, I'm looking for another pair of slides, even though I still think it is ridiculous to purchase backless shoes in the winter). But, one can download some funky Nelly Furtado tunes almost instantly, and for a fraction of what a new pair of Liz Claiborne slides would cost. The same rush one gets from a successful shopping outting can still be felt, and in the comfort of home.

motorcycle

bad cholesterol

So, I had a very weird dream last night. It started out with me reading a report from my doctor indicating that my cholesterol had sky-rocketed, which really upset me. Kinda boring dream, eh? No, it gets better. I decided to take my doctor's report and show it to the Hip-Hopibrarian(R), Well, the Hip-Hopibrarian had her own problems. Apparently, after coming back from checking out the underground Tel Aviv hip-hop scene while writing her book on...? Hip-Hopibrarian, are you reading this? What were you writing a book on while you were checking out the underground Tel Aviv hip-hop scene? Well, anyway, the Hip-Hopibrarian had apparently hung up her...um...dancing shoes and reading glasses and had become a minister. Perhaps a Hip-Hopister. I caught her while she was very upset. Apparently, she caught a misspelling in the prayer book the Church wanted her to use. The person formerly known as the Hip-Hopibrarian was in the middle of suing the Church over the misspelling. And, she was so upset over the misspelling that she was planning to hang up her, well, whatever Hip-Hopisters hang up and enter into a new career.

Elvis

Even though this blog was established for me to have an outlet to try to be sarcastic and humorous, only one thought is going through my head right now and it isn't sarcastic or humorous. That thought is:

Isn't Elvis Costello the best singer, songwriter, entertainer ever? Ok, I'll give you Leonard Cohen as best songwriter, but everything else applies to Elvis Costello.

pride

It was pouring rain, the wind was whipping around, but I left the store jauntily carrying my sole purchase, a new black umbrella. I thought I was very clever. Here I was, armed to take on the weird Michigan winter rain storm while other shoppers were scampering in and out of the store, bareheaded, without even as much as a hood to cover them.

I didn’t get more than 20 feet away from the store when the wind got a hold of my new umbrella and started whipping it around. Since I was holding my new umbrella, I went whipping around as well. Picture Mary Poppins, gently wafting down to the ground, umbrella in one hand, carpet bag in the other, ready to take on the day and conquer two obnoxious children plagued by an absentee, uptight British father. Well, this wasn’t that. Instead, one must picture me clothed in my usual Saturday attire, threadbare jeans which I am hesitant to toss because I don’t believe I can replace them now that Marshall Fields has become Macy’s and I can’t find the same model, grey t-shirt, blue hoodie and lastly, a black ski vest, which I wear because I think it looks cool even though I’m terribly cold in a ski vest due to the obvious lack of arm covering necessary in inclimant weather. My shoes of choice are usually my brown moccasin slides, incidentally stained with olive oil due to yet another tragic kitchen mishap. The slides I purchased with a bit of skepticism, because I think it is a tad ridiculous for stores to sell backless shoes in the winter in a wintery climate, but again, they looked really cool in the ads, with the tall models wearing the mocs in the Land’s End catalog frolicking in the woods with a fishing rod in one hand and the leash to their lumbering golden retriever in the other hand.

So I’m chaotically being flailed around in a fierce gust of wind. The rain is pounding on me sideways, wetting my arms that would have been dry if I had been less vain and had bought a jacket with actual sleeves, the backs of my feet getting soaked (a sight not seen in the Land’s End catalog when the models are happily trudging through the elements, scampering Golden Retrievers in tow) thanks to the lack of backs on my olive oil-stained moc slides. My brand-new umbrella, of which I had so much pride and love for, at least in the 45 seconds that I owned it, gave up, turning itself inside out, saying "uncle" to the ferocious storm. I flung myself towards my car, broken umbrella in tow, tossed it in the back and drove home, wet, chilled and umbrella-less, yet again.

my world

Quote expressed during the holiday festivities:

"Gosh, those latkes gave me agita."