Monday, February 27, 2012

Get in Line Stupid

Did I mention that our credit union doesn't deal in cash?

Im okay with that. I use the ATM. I use the night deposit. I send checks by mail. I try not to stand in line, only today the ATM is out of order and the sign slapped on the dark screen directs me to a second machine in terminal C.

C is a problem. I heave a sigh, enter the credit union and line up behind an airline mechanic. He turns and smiles. "So," I say, "where do you think terminal C might be?"

His brows lift. "We don't have a terminal C. Terminal C closed about five years back."

"Exactly." I mutter as a teller waves him over.

Now I don't need cash, I could use my debit card, but misinformation bugs me. I'm on a mission.


The teller doesn't smile. I wait for him to glance up. "So," I say "according to the sign on the ATM, the other machine is in terminal C? Miami doesn't have a terminal C."

He frowns. "Terminal E."

"The sign states C."

"E." His voice is crisp, his enunciation precise and I realize I'm not making an impression. So, either he doesn't care or he hasn't listened.

"Fine." I spin on a heel and head for the exit.

"Don't worry," says the mechanic as I pass by, "you'll get used to the airport."

"Oh I know the airport, now I'm going to get my glasses and see if that sign states C or E."

He laughs. "Oh I'll bet it says C."


Out at the ATM, I pluck a pen from my purse, look back through the glass doors and waggle it at the teller. I change the sign from C to E and head to the next terminal. Ten minutes later, cash in hand, I wade through security and join the queue at Starbucks.


"Chai latte with soy please." I pass the clerk a ten and smile. "So how's your day?"

He gives me a bland look, reads my name tag and scribbles on the cup. He looks over my head. "Next."

Okay, fine. I don't need pleasant, I need tea, a quiet corner and a few minutes in time out.  When the drink arrives I thank the barrista and move on.

When I'm settled, I sigh, lift the cup to my lips and ...


After a moment, I swallow the mouthful of warm unflavored soy and pitch the container in the trash. Whatever. If I lose it now, I'll never make it through the day without copping an attitude.

I head for the gate. Maybe the plane is early. Maybe the cleaners are finished, the water tanks are filled and the coffee pots are clean. That's a lot of maybes, but I'm hopeful.

So much for hopeful.

"You're late." Snaps a woman as I approach the counter. She has two toddlers and an oversized rollerboard.

I check my watch. "No," I say, "I'm early. In fact I'm so early I'll come back after this flight leaves." I give her suitcase a long look, raise one brow and wait for her response. She huffs and turns away.

Like dominos this flight delays mine. I walk past Starbucks and down the terminal to Dunkin. A family of four picks through the donuts so I skirt past them and head for the coffee. Extra large, with cream. A woman slips in behind me and mimics my actions. Damp curls are stuck to her brow and her glasses tilt to one side.

The cashier smiles and I point to both coffees.

"Oh," says the woman behind me, "you don't need to do that."

"Oh I do," I reply, "I've had enough of the airport. This is a desperate attempt to stay happy." I lift my cup. "So ... how's your day?"

She rolls her eyes and we start to laugh.

Kat Wears Rose Colored Glasses

I like Kat.

I like her no nonsense, no rules, take it or leave it award.

I'll keep it.

The only problem is, she sent it to the same list of bloggers I would. So ...

If you want to say thank you for a little encouragment, please lift this award and pass it along to your friends.

And visit Kat

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Finders Keepers

"Statistically speaking," say's Beamer, "Rob isn't the guy for you."

"He's not?" I roll my eyes and settle the phone in the crook of my neck.

"No, he's the first guy you've dated since your divorce. He's transitional, not a keeper."

"Not true," I sigh, "I went on the date from Hell with Brat's co-worker. He wanted to take me to Hawaii and drive around the island in a vintage convertible."

"Well that sounds interesting, but ..."

My sister is an over-thinker. I cut her off, "you've no idea. We went skiing and I lost him on the slope."

"On purpose?"

"No, I'm not that brave. I looked for him, but I didn't find him until the ski area closed."

"That's good."

Uhuh. "Then we had dinner, discussed his biological time clock and I fled. Well, not exactly, but I ducked the follow up phone calls."

"One date does not count." She clears her throat. "According to statistics..."

"Wait," I reach for a legal pad and start to doodle, "don't forget the Pillsbury dough boy. We dated a few times. Oh and Mr Clean asked me out."

"Mr Clean?"

"Yeah, the original Mr Clean, the one from the bottle of cleanser." She laughs. "I'm serious, I said no, cause he's quite a bit older, but he wanted to take me to the movies. Some film about cats and dogs."

"The Original Mr Clean?" She echoes.

"Yep, that's what he told me."

"Still," she sighs, "you shouldn't live together. If the milk is free, he won't buy the cow."

"Okie dokie," I say, "Gotta go, Rob's home and Mom and Dad just walked in."

Two seconds after we're seated, Mom points a finger at Rob. "So," she says, "How long is my daughter going to be a concubine?"

Dad's brows shoot up.

I squeak.

Rob doesn't miss a beat. "Sounds like fun," he grins, "I'll be one too."

Mom snorts and brandishes her middle finger.

Dad catches my eye and winks.

I'm keeping this one.

Oh Lord, Make Em Stop

Marlia's spiteful

She's sulking, she had to go back to work and she's taking it out on me. The Sweetest Blogger, we're kidding right?

I've been accused of many things but sweet doesn't make the list.

"You're on the bus to Hell and Rob's driving."

"You could get through life with a little patience."

"Better call in sick or you'll alienate the crew."

"You don't have to be a snot-bucket."

"Thank God you're flying."

Family, they gotta love ya.

I'm humbled.

So here I am, agonizing over the next move, pondering the possibilities, sweating over the outcome. Which bloggers to pick. Who will do a happy dance if I tag their blog and who will spit cracker crumbs at the screen and curse my lineage. Hey, you've been privy to my lineage, I'm cursed enough.

So I think I'll mix it up a bit.

Three is my lucky number so I'm going to unearth three new bloggers and expose them to your intense scrutiny. Don't think I'm passing over a versatile friend, immune to literary gems or ignoring the intense need for revenge. Well, I am, but you already bask in their glow, so onward.

This is a guilt free zone people. Accept the award. Reject the award. Have a happy life.   Allo, allo, resist-once is futile. But of course dis man can give you French Lessons.  Dannie is a writer living his dream in Thailand.  This post is a call to action for the heart. Please pass it along. Nutschell is a scientific find. I followed Anthony home and chose the first commentor on his latest post. I'm glad I did.

                                            Award Season is closed. Namaste.


Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Have I Got a Deal for You

Dawn cheated. Yes, she did, she was given an award, told to pass it along to five bloggers, and ... well, like I said, she cheated. Three bloggers were hit, er gifted, with her largess and yours truly was one of them. Thanks Dawn .

You can find Dawn here. Dawn's not only breaking the rules, she's busy dropping bloggy F-bombs at  Lighten Up Weber

So what's the point you ask?

Quit yawning, I'm typing as fast as I can. When Dawn cheated, ok cheated is a little harsh, let's say, when Dawn got creative and changed the rules, she put me in an awkward spot. Yep, she did.

# 1. Dawn's a rule breaker.

# 2. She colors outside the line.

# 3. Her dog sits on the couch.

Oh wait, I digress. The original rules instructed the awardee to spill five personal tidbits. I'd like to do that, really I would, but Dawn reset the parameter to three and Dawn's my idol, so three it is.

# 1. I never break the rules. Hey, pink hi-tops don't count and word got back to my supervisor, so no pink, no personality, no more standing on the furniture and repacking the overhead bins. People you're on your own and you'll like it.

# 2. I paint inside the lines. Uhuh, those odd spots of color on the ceiling are decorative.

# 3. My dog does not sit on the couch. He did, but he's too old to jump down, so couch sitting is for special occasions.

That's three right?

Excellent, so here comes the fun, or in Wily's case the revenge.

Splendid blogger # 1. Wily B Cool whose busy with bithdays, but never too busy for a visit.

Which leads me to Michelle My Belle blog pick # 2. I found her through an award list and enjoy her spirit. (See, these things work.)

And  # 3. Kat  She came to my blog and made me cry. I don't cry, I didn't have kleenex, but Kat's all heart and someday she'll find me on the doorstep of her dairy farm. Hey, I like cows!

So there you go. Follow in Dawn's footsteps and do things in threes or be conventional and revert to fives but whatever you do, visit a fellow blogger and say hello.