I hate Walmart...

...perhaps even more than I hate Radio Shack. I realize that I may be making myself sound like a total snob right now, but I don't care. It is full of herds of ill-behaved children and rude people. Are the aisles narrower at Walmart than at any other store? Because I cannot push my cart down any one of them because people and their carts are camped out in the very middle and they do not respond to your presence next to them. You are expected to wait until they are good and done and ready to move, and they won't budge one second before that moment, thankyouverymuch.

I would avoid the place entirely, but my mother is visiting and she has her prescriptions filled there. God knows why. I've tried to convince her that her copay will be the same no matter where she goes, but she has bought the ads on TV about the cheapness of the Walmart pharmacy, I guess. So, tonight, like a good daughter, I stopped on my way home from work to pick up her prescription. I also had something that I had to return (from the last time we went to Walmart to pick up a prescription). This meant that I had to stand in every line at Walmart.

First, I stood in the line to return stuff. This is where I encountered the Very Large Close-Standing Man (VLC-SM). The VLC-SM was approximately 6'5" tall and weighed roughly as much as a small car...and he liked to stand just slightly too close to me in line. When I finally got to the front, I breathed a sigh of relief. Now I could move away from him! Except when I did...he inched forward and got right up on me. Repeatedly. Then he saw his friend Steve across the store and had to yell at him really, really, loudly. It was a long wait.

After I dealt with the return, I had to stand in the pharmacy line. It was long. When I finally got up to the counter, the lady informed me that my mom's prescription was not ready and that they had a 3-4 hour wait time. I gave her my best, "I'm pissed, but willing to be reasonable" look and informed her that my mother had called the prescription in at 9:30am and told them that I would be picking it up at 6:30 that evening, so I had already waited well over her 3-4 hour window. She talked to her manager and said it would be ready in 15 mins. Hallelujah. I went and picked up a few other things that I needed.

Then I got to wait in the pharmacy line again.

Then I got to wait in the regular checkout line because they will not ring up your items at the pharmacy counter if you have more than 4 things. I got in the inappropriately-named Express lane. When the people in front of me left after a lengthy discussion with the cashier, I piled my stuff on the belt only to be informed by the cashier that I would have to wait a moment. He left. Everyone behind me in line started moving lines, but I was the unfortunate one with all of my crap on the belt. So, I waited...and I realized that the previous customer's total was still showing on the register and her bags were still there. When the cashier got back he took her gallon of milk out of the bag and tried to shove it in the cooler with the bottles of soda with limited success. Finally he finished, voided her order, and rang up one of my items....whereupon the lady showed back up. She said, "Oh, did you put it all away?" The cashier looked at me and said, "Oh, sorry, let me ring her up." I rolled my eyes and sighed and the lady said, "Oh, fine, ring her up first." Um, yeah! Since he had already started, I think so!

There was more after that...I got lost on my way home (don't ask) and I ended up behind a piece of road equipment driving at 5 mph. By the time I got home I thought my bladder might burst (the only thing worse than shopping at Walmart is using their bathroom...shudder). I decided to get Subway for dinner because the way my night went I thought I might just burn the house down if I tried to use the oven! Hopefully I can avoid Walmart for at least another month.

Attention

Attention, drivers who place your GPS devices on the windshield directly in your line of sight, thus eclipsing the roadway. You are morons.

That is all.

Newton's Day vs. Michael's Day

Newton's Day

Today was the BEST day ever! I thought it was going to be just another everybody-leaves-day 'cause my girl-hooman woke up when the beeping happened and didn't stay in bed to cuddle AT ALL. That means it's a everybody-leaves-day. She put on her leaving fur and then drove off in her sick-box. Then my guy-hooman did the same thing...except he didn't drive off! He came back inside and changed into his staying at home fur and then he took me outside! I got to hang out in the front yard all day. I got to lay in the sunny grass and pee on the tree and some neighbors came over to play with me! Then my girl-hooman came home earlier than usual. It was the best day ever! I'm so tired now that I need a nap.

Michael's Day

I thought today was going to be just another workday, but boy was I wrong! I got dressed and went out to drive to work, but I couldn't shift gears. My clutch wasn't working. I went back inside and did a little research on the internet and realized that I had one of the necessary parts to fix the problem. Unfortunately, I didn't have the other part I needed, so Alison offered to go pick it up at lunchtime and work from home for the afternoon. So, I set to work in the driveway and took Newton out with me since he enjoys being outside. At least the weather was decent. I was hoping I could get the job done in time to go to work for a few hours, but I finished up at 5pm...it took me all day! I think I fixed the problem, but it still doesn't seem quite right so I might have to do some more adjusting. *sigh* What a crappy day. I'm so tired now that I need a nap.

No, it's not a pon-"cho"

Hey everyone! I have a bit of a knitting saga to share if you're interested...

So, last March or so I ordered this yarn (in the "ginger" color) with the intention of knitting this sweater. Awesome, right? I received my yarn and began kniting. However, then we bought a house and moved and began rebuilding said house. And, as you might imagine, knitting rather fell by the wayside. Now fast forward to mid-August when I decided that I might as well continue doing my hobbies while renovating the house since it was, apparently, going to take forever. I took up the sweater where I left off and merrily continued knitting. Around this time, I also started attending a Thursday night knitting group. It turns out you pick up so many things at a knitting group! Like, did you know that you can actually try on your sweater while you're still knitting it? I had no idea! You take it off the needles and put your active stitches on a long piece of yarn instead. Then it's not constrained by the needles and you can put it on like you will be able to when it's done. Well, I thought this was genious and tried on my sweater which, remember, is basically 4 inches from being complete. You've probably figured out by now that all was not well. The bottom of the sweater fit great! Like a glove! The top part fit like I was supposed to put football pads on under it. Seriously, had it not been attached to the bottom part, I could have passed the top part of the sweater all the way over my body from head to feet without touching myself with it...it was like a knit hula hoop. There was really no way to fix it and I SWORE I had followed the pattern correctly so, angrily, I ripped it all out and re-balled up the yarn.


Thus began my quest for something else to do with my pretty cotton yarn. Of course, by now it is October so knitting with cotton is maybe not the best idea. October is wool time. Nevertheless, I was bound and determined to use this yarn for SOMETHING. So I found this pattern. Pretty! Also, the fact that it is a pon-chette (not a pon-cho, goodness no, how uncouth!) made me laugh every time I got to say it. So, I began knitting. I was putting the trauma of the football-player-shoulder sweater behind me. The healing had begun.

Until...a week after I began knitting the pon-chette I got an email from the company from which I bought the pattern.

We have become aware of some errors in our Empress Pullover pattern, item
50642. Since the errors were scattered throughout the pattern, we are sending
you a link to a brand new, corrected version of the pattern.

Ya think?! URGH. So, anyway, I finished my pon-chette and it turned out awesome!




So now I have to decide if I want to bother with the dumb sweater again. Maybe next spring....

They Just Wanna, They Just Wanna

Today, after buying some gasoline, I went into the associated minute-mart or whatever to acquire some ade. While choosing my unnaturally colored beverage, I realized I knew the words to the over-produced, bubble-gum pop song being played over the store's sound system. But who was responsible for this un-asked-for cover? I whipped out my iPhone and set Shazam to work on that very question. In a moment I learned, to my horror, that Mylie Cyrus has recorded a version of "Girls Just Want to Have Fun." Oh the girlanity!

The Germantown Dog Whisperer

We took Newton to our local dog park for the first time today since we moved to this area. He had an ok time...I got the impression that it wasn't as well-run as the one that used to be near us, so we probably won't go as much as we used to in Columbia.

The truly annoying part, however, was that there was this woman there who was just...a loudmouth. You know the type. Holding court by the benches, telling everyone what an awesome "dog trainer" she is. People like this really put me on edge. My first thought is always, "If you're so awesome at xxx, why do you have to tell everyone so loudly?" Anyway, she has a fist full of dog treats at the park (which was stupid...it's never a good idea to introduce food into a large group of dogs that you don't know) that she's giving out to all the dogs. She's asking each of them to sit before she gives them a treat. Some woman's dog didn't know sit, so this "dog trainer" said she would teach him. The owner jokingly says, "Well if you can teach him, I'd pay you!" *sigh*

So the "dog trainer" takes this little min pin on a leash about 4 feet from where all the other dogs are playing and proceeds to try to lure him into a sit with a treat which is a perfectly valid way to teach "sit". However, it doesn't work, of course; it was like watching someone try to teach a 3rd grader fractions in the middle of a carnival. The dog was far more interested in all the activity around him than in the "trainer" or her food. So the "dog trainer" starts forcing his back end into a sit (bad idea...you can actually hurt some dogs this way). When he pops up and spins away from her, clearly thinking, "What the heck, lady! I was just here at the park having a nice time and now you're manhandling me!", she jerks hard on his leash and yells "NO!" at him. At this point, I am so annoyed at her that I almost said something, but decided it wasn't my business, so I bit my tongue. I guess she decided this dog wasn't going to listen to her so she decides to alpha roll him (pin him to the ground with his belly up). This is a very submissive position for a dog and some dogs won't tolerate a stranger doing that to them, particularly in a situation with other dogs around. She just met him 3 minutes ago and SHE IS AT THE DOG PARK...this is a good way to get bitten, frankly. She then proceeds to arrogantly inform the small crowd of dog owners that she had to do this to a Rottweiller once. Awesome. Finally, she lets the dog up and forces his back end into a sit at which point she informs the owner/small crowd that "He got it that time!" and hands the leash back to the owner. Got what?? That maybe if he just let you do whatever (because I guarantee you the dog was STILL totally in the dark about what she actually wanted him to do) that you would leave him alone and go away? She then tells us that you just have to watch Cesar Milan's show if you want to know how to do that because that's how she learned. I almost died.

Pretty much immediately after that, the owner and her dog left. I followed them to the gate which was out of earshot of the "dog trainer" who was STILL holding court. I suggested that if she really wanted to do some stuff with her dog she should pick up the book the trainers I talk with online wrote. I told her it was game and fun-based training and that I thought it was much more about building a relationship with your dog than Cesar Milan's method which had always struck me as sort of confrontational (I could have said some other, more negative stuff about Cesar Milan, but I figured that wouldn't be productive). She thanked me and seemed genuinely interested...asked where she could pick it up. I got the impression that she had been a bit uncomfortable with the way the other woman was handling her dog, but she wasn't really sure how to stop it without being rude.

As a side note, when she was giving out treats, Newton ran up and jumped up on her a little bit. She said "sit" and he did....and she didn't do anything. So he downed. And she still didn't do anything, so he jumped up again. At which point, she admonished him for jumping. (where's that emoticon for smacking yourself in the forehead when you need it!) I think he repeated his routine about 3 more times and then gave up without ever getting a treat. Yeah, she was the next dog whipserer, for sure. *rolling eyes*

Anyway, I just had to vent. Every time I think about it I just get annoyed all over again!

The New House - A Vent

OK...the previous owner of our house was just...unbelievable. I think she did everything as cheaply and as quickly as possible. We have now lived here approximately a month and here is what we have discovered. I will denote with an asterisk the things we knew about before we moved in, but which are worth mentioning:

1. The shower door in the master bathroom does not fit - it is too small. Also, it doesn't close properly. *
2. All of the walls are a mess. She was completely unable to plaster anything correctly. I think she just glopped it on and didn't sand it down before painting. She dripped paint all over. This is so bad that rather than fix the mistakes in the living room, we may just put up new 1/4" wallboard over the old.
   
3. She painted over most of the outlets. Not just the covers, but the actual outlets, too. You have to try really hard to plug things in 'cause there's dried up paint in all the holes.*
4. She painted so badly that there is colored paint on all the white trim and ceilings where she failed to mask anything.*
   
5. The bathtub in the hall bath upstairs is not level. This caused water to drip onto the floor and caused a leak into the kitchen below. The ceiling wallboard is damaged and now has holes in it from the plumber trying to diagnose the problem.
6. The toilet in the powder room leaks from the bolts holding the tank to the base. We already had a plumber fix the water valve from the wall. It had no teflon tape on it and the seal was not seated properly. I am going to go out on a limb here and assume that the bolts that are now leaking do not have teflon tape on them, either.
7. When we took the wallpaper off in the powder room, we discovered that there was old wallpaper backing underneath it that had been partially removed, and painted over. Also, she wallpapered right over a large hole in the wallboard. There is also something funny going on with one of the walls in the powder room. After removing the wallpaper, we found this glossy white paint is peeling off the wall. I like to call this "wall leprosy". It's too hard to scrape it all off, but plaster probably won't stick to it to level it. This means we will probably have to put up a new piece of wallboard there, too.
8. She wallpapered over a hole in the wall in the dining room that contained live wires where a wall sconce had once been mounted. Thank goodness we didn't discover that by sticking our putty knives into it. That would have been "shocking". Haha.
9. She glued her chair rail to the wall. Inevitably, I tore up the wallboard getting it off, which means more taping and plastering. Yay. Thanks, previous homeowner!
10. When the hardwood floor was installed, she did not remove the baseboards before she put it down. Thus, the baseboards are behind the flooring and are extremely hard to remove. Also they were painted to the wall, and she used nails approximatey the size of railroad ties to attach them. Excuse me, previous homeowner....they make something called a "finishing nail". Embrace it.
11. The light in my closet is broken. This is something that was installed as part of the repairs required after the home inspection. How can it already be broken? This woman was magically bad at home stuff, I tell you!

Anyway, that's it for now. I'll keep you posted on all the FUN FUN stuff I find as we continue. Maybe someday I'll get to paint my walls...if I can ever get to that point!

$$

Have you been waiting impatiently for my latest language rant?   Well, here it is:

I dont understand why people feel the need to use a dollar sign or a series of dollar signs to stand in for the word "money."   The dollar sign has a specific use:  to denote a currency unit.  It does not represent the concept of money in general.  

Pun Intended

I've noticed that, usually, when someone says "no pun intended," they not only intended the pun, but also only said "no pun intended" to call attention to the pun.

You Can't Get Blood From a Stone

I've given blood just a couple of times in my life. I feel good about doing it, but not while doing it. While giving blood, I mostly feel annoyed. I mean, the Red Cross just makes donating so onerous. First, you read some forms, then you fill out and sign some others, then they read the forms back to you and ask you if what you said was true. Finally, they take the blood, which actually isn't very time-consuming at all. But you aren't done yet, because then they try to give you sugary, fatty snacks and insist that you stick around even longer, just in case you pass out.

I gave platelets last time, which turned out to be a bad idea. This donation involves pulling blood form one arm, filtering out the platelets, then feeding the rest of your blood back into your other arm. This is actually rather convenient; since you get your plasma and red blood cells back, you are able to work out that day. Unfortunately, the extraction process takes much longer than a whole-blood donation does, and, since you are punctured in both elbows, you can't bend your arms. It's very irritating.

A Minor Criticism of Technique

Can anyone throw a punch worse than Sarah Michelle Gellar?

Attention Adults in Need of Training Wheels

Attention. If you are riding your bicycle more slowly than a person can run, please do not weave lazily from side to side, so that pedestrians who are in a hurry can pass you. That is all.

So Crazy It's Insane

The latest travisty of language to chap my hide is the overuse and dilution of the words "crazy" and "insane." These two words have been used so frequently that the intended exaggeration has evaporated. I now frequently hear and see them used to mean simply "unnecessary" or "excessive."

It's the Penultimate Epicenter of Ignorance

Nick, gun-jumper that he is, spoiled this post in his comment on my inaugural language rant. Indeed his comment was more amusing and succinct than anything I could write, but I'm going ahead and posting it anyway. So there.

I can't count the number of times I've heard or read someone---frequently someone in the media, who should have received some kind of education in the language arts----use "epicenter" to mean simply "center," rather than "the point on the surface directly above the center." Frequently, the word is misused in this way when discussion something other than the physical center or centroid. That distiction doesn't justify the error, however.

I've also heard or seen "penultimate" used to mean simply "ultimate," rather than "next to last," innumerable times.

I can only guess that the speaker or writer feels that a word like "center" or "ultimate" simply isn't as formal or fancy as they'd like. Perhaps, but it is correct.

Going Nucular

For the second in my series of language rants, I've chosen an easy one: the mispronunciation of the word "nuclear" as "nucular." This pronunciation is perhaps most famously used by President Bush, but is also employed but such other luminaries as Homer Simpson. In fact, "nucular" is apparently listed in some dictionaries as a common, pronounciation, though not one that is considered correct by all. This pronunciation makes me feel like going "nuclular," though some linguists would tell me to calm down.

The point is, unless you want to sound like an ignorant bumpkin to many people, don't say "nucular." Just don't.

Litterally a Million Times Worse Than Eating Babies

I find myself frequently irritated by misuses of words or other errors of language. I plan to share a few of them here of this blog. It is my fervent hope that you will be just as annoyed as I.

Perhaps the most common of these errors is the use of the word "literally" followed (or preceded) by an exaggeration. Here are a couple of examples:

The running back literally flew down the field.

I tell you that refrigerator we moved must have weighed a million pounds, literally.

This error makes my blood boil.* Unless the running back stopped in mid-play to board an aircraft and the fridge was loaded with neutronium, these statements just aren't true. If you use "literally" in your sentence, the rest of that sentence must be your best estimate of the actual facts under discussion.

* Note how I didn't preface my hyperbole with "literally." See, it's not that difficult.

Good Help is Hard to Find

A Lowe's recently opened not far from us. Alison and I were quite happy to see that, since Home Depot never seems to have what we want, and the salsefolk never seem to know anything.

I went to the Lowe's this morning and asked where I could find steel pipe. I was pointed to the plumbing department, even though steel is not the ideal material for use in the wet. Here's a summary of the actual conversation I had with the salsedude in plumbing:

Me, politely: "Do you have any steel pipe?"
Salseguy, confused: "You mean like copper?"
Me, a little irritated: "No, steel."
Salesguy, even more confused: "You mean like cast iron?"
Me, more than a little irritated: "No, steel."
Salesguy: "You mean like rebar?"
Me, almost more amused than irritated: "No, pipe."

Eventually, we determined that there was no steel pipe in the plumbing department. I was directed to building supplies at the far end of the store. When I got there, the salesdude seemed to understand the concept of steel pipe, but he didn't believe there was any in his part of the store. I poked around but came up empty handed. Finally, I gave up.

It appears that our dreams of a hardware store stocked with what I want and staffed by people who know where to find it are dashed. Dashed, I say. Ugh!

Hey, wanna see something gross?

Sure you do. You know that even though the rational part of your brain knows you should say "no" when someone says that, you are always compelled to look anyway. Admit it.

So, I think our apartment may come equipped with the most poorly-designed clothes drier EVER. In the history of mankind. A clothes line strung up outside is a more impressive feat of engineering than this piece of crap. Now I know many of you who live in apartments are saying, "Wow! You have a washer and drier in your apartment! That's awesome!!" True. It is awesome. Dealing with my crappy drier is way better than shlepping my laundry to the basement or to the laundromat and feeding quarters into machines because at least I can do it in my PJs. So, I readily admit before I begin my story that I am being petty and, possibly, ungrateful and there are, I agree, probably starving children in Ethiopia who would LOVE to have my drier. Whatever. I'm still going to rant.

Lately our clothes have been taking progressively longer and longer to dry. The maintenance guy at our apartment says the drier is not broken. It's heating up and everything and we do clean the lint trap after every use, so nobody can fathom what the problem is. Here, let me show you. Here is a picture of our drier.


Seems simple, right? Nope! It turns out that our lint trap is easy to slip. A fair amount of the lint is wily enough to get through into the door and even up into the little grate! Steps 2 an 3 are supposed to be lint-free, but, alas, our lint trap is asleep on the job. And you can't remove that grate in step 3 at all. So, apparently, you have to get out something long and skinny and, oh, maybe some eyebrow tweezers and pull out that sneaky lint. Evil, non-team-player, oh I'm better than the others so I can skip step 1 lint. Then, it also turns out that the door to the drier is entirely hollow. Lots of lint also stays in the door having a lint rave. So, you have to use one of those little Swiffer dusting thingies and stick it down in there and get SOME of the hard-partying door lint, but in order to get MOST of the door lint you have to do some minor surgery on the drier like so:

Yes, I tore apart the lint trap and then stuck my hand way down into the door. After all that, here is what I came up with:


Soggy, impacted lint...and lots of hair. Is it all mine? Doubtful. I don't think this drier was exactly pristine when we moved in.

So, can anyone explain to me why one would design a drier that would basically allow, oh, 99% of the lint to get through the lint trap and force people to practically go spelunking to get it out once their clothes started to come out all warm and steamy? I mean, this thing is maybe useful if you're running a Japanese restaurant and you need to get those little hand towels ready for your customers, but if it is actually intended to make clothes dry I contend that it is a piece of crap.

Anyway, I may never eat with my bare hands again, but my clothes will be dry, thank you very much!

Idiocy on Two Wheels

Today I had a very scary experience on the freeway.

I was driving home in the next-to-rightmost lane and I needed to get over to exit. So, I passed a white van that was in the lane I needed to get into and, when I had put 3-4 car lengths between me and him, I put on my blinker, checked my blind spot, and started to get over. Suddenly, as I was halfway into the new lane, in my mirrors, I noticed a green blur coming up behind me and passing me on my right...in the lane I was getting into. Somehow I realized said green blur was a dude on a crotch rocket. I quickly swerved back into my original lane and watched as he passed me on the right, only to dart in front of me and over two lanes to the left, between another car and a semi truck. He was going AT LEAST 85 mph because he passed me like I was standing still and I was going 65 mph.

I seriously almost killed this guy....or he almost killed himself with my car. Whatever. I was all adrenaliney and I just drove along for 20 seconds or so before I could collect myself and change lanes. As I put on my signal the second time, the white van flashed his lights at me to let me know I could get over. I interpreted that as both of us being totally freaked out by the experience and, therefore, a little anal and overvigilant about lane changing safety!

Rant: Large Vehicles in Compact-Only Spaces

You know what really grinds my gears? People who park large vehicles in parking spaces marked "compact car only." At the lab where I work, the lot I use nearly fills up during big meetings. During those times, I can sometimes park my car in a compact-only space. I believe that if any vehicle is allowed to use tsuch a parking spot, my 2-seat, 2000-ish-pound Honda CRX is. If all the compact spaces are taken by smallish cars, I figure it's my own fault for arriving at work so late, and I park a in a distant spot without complaint. The other day, I arrived at the lab to find a Ford Explorer in my favorite compact-only space. Yes, a 4-door, mid-sized SUV shoved onto---not into---a space clearly labeled "compact car only." I'm guessing that the driver either is fully aware that his truck is far from small and is simply a selfish jerk---this is the more likely scenario, in my opinion---or his other vehicle is something like a Hummer H2, so, to him, the Explorer is compact.