THE BP CUFF: There’s a moral of a story here…..

 

 

 

 

At the drugstore.  At the drugstore, you ask?  Not much goes on there apart from prescription filling.

 

Well try this on for size – how about getting your arm wedged in the drug store’s blood pressure apparatus.  Yep, you heard right.

 

I went to my drugstore to have a prescription filled.  Whilst waiting I became bored looking at the vitamin section and spotted a portable blood pressure machine.  Glancing at the instructions, I thought this was a fine idea and could compare these numbers with my doctor’s machine.

 

Having arms that are chubby to say the least, I stuffed my arm into the circular cuff.  Instantly, after pressing the green button the cuff inflated at a rapid pace.  The cuff was becoming tighter and tighter, and my arm was becoming redder and redder.  I yelled for the pharmacy assistant, but incapable to offering help, paged the store manager.  “Would Bob please come to the pharmacy immediately”.  Bob arrived promptly, and even he was powerless to remove my now crimson arm.  I felt so trapped – I was so trapped.  He raced to fetch some tools, returned to unscrew the cuff – and phew! finally I had my arm back.

 

Throughout these moments, a small crowd gathered, whispering at what was a comical situation.  I was so humiliated, and not at all flabbergasted if my BP was 250/150!  I’ll only permit my doctor to take it after this lesson.

 

Moral of the story: if you have a fat arm don’t stick it in uncertain waters!

ARE SOME WOMEN BRAINLESS?

 

This morning I was shopping in the grocery store, (originally going in for the potato chips and dip only, but I always end up picking up more stuff), and observed a woman a few steps ahead me in the same aisle.  She left her purse in the front of her shopping cart wide-open.  Who would be so careless?  What is more important – the can of peas or your precious belongings including your wallet containing god knows what?

There was only her and I in the aisle, and as she was bending down to choose an item, I spoke up.  “Excuse me, but your purse is sitting in the cart, and if I were a thief, your purse would now be gone”.  I was mystified by her reply:  “Oh I know, I do that all the time”.  She pulled the cart close to her, no thanks was given, unshaken, proceeded looking at products on the shelves.  If that were me I would be in an absolute frenzy – most likely departed the store, berating myself for being so brainless.

I continued on with my shopping (which I loathe to the highest degree), and I could not believe my eyes….this same dim-witted women is in another aisle, purse wide open in her shopping cart, and cart half-way down the aisle.  I’m still scratching my head at this one.  If her purse was stolen, she’d most likely be the first one to yell out “MY PURSE IS GONE, MY PURSE WAS STOLEN”, and running around in a panic.  Everyone would feel sorry for her.   A true ding-bat.

  

What’s with all the Meatballs?

Pot Luck Supper – Just returned from a Pot Luck Supper.  The guests were pleasant, the spread was nice, the music in Polka fashion, but I’m simply not a ‘pot luck’ personality. Scores of different foods all met on one’s plate; a buffet of sorts.  Dishes and dishes of meatballs – WHAT IS WITH ALL THE MEATBALLS?  Straightforward to prepare? And all in BBQ sauce?  It was pointed out that some of the balls were of the chicken and pork variety, as well as, beef.  Was I impressed?  NOT!  I passed on all of these meatballs for fear of eating the toothpick stabbed into each ball.

Next, I was perplexed by a giant bowl of spaghetti (more meat balls included), but I’ll get to that later on.  Proceeding, I viewed the customary lasagna, a hamburger helper type of dish (passed on that), casseroles (3 bean, cheese), hot/cold beans in molasses, followed by your basic salads: potato, macaroni, coleslaw, also strange salads made with raw whole mushrooms in vinegar sauce (passed on that).   Desserts were  the familiar cheesecake/brownies/chewy coconut bars (I DID NOT pass on them).  I contributed the store-bought brownies, by the way, mistakenly leaving the price sticker on the bottom of the tray.

Returning to the spaghetti though.  Why would anyone bring/serve this dish to a pot luck?  With no room to sit down, one would be balancing spaghetti in one’s hand on a flimsy paper (fake Chinette) plate, while twirling noodles and drinking wine with the other.  Impossible, I’d say, and doggie below would be smacking his lips waiting for the food to collapse.  Scarcely anyone touched this spagetti dish.

Conclusion:  Give me a sit-down meal anytime. 

PINK HAIRDO’S

People are courageous these days with their hair; some appear as if they walked under a spilled can of bright paint.  And yet, they volunteered these colors for their hair, which truly amazes me.

A stroll through the mall, or a ride on the bus – in fact anywhere and you can catch a glimpse of young women or occasionally not so young women sporting the likes of blue, purple, pink, or orange etc. do’s.  I’m uncertain if it’s a ‘punk’ thing, as some don’t have a full head of color but rather just highlights.  A woman at our office dyed her hair blue for a hockey tournament, couldn’t remove the dye afterwards and had to shave her head.  Perish the thought at that one.

I’m more on the conservative side and don’t invite stares, and stick with the same brown hair dye that I always have.   Although boring; pink just isn’t for me.  I did venture though with highlights once and ended up looking like a skunk.

I’m also not one for body tattoos or piercings on the face either.  Prudish, huh?  As far as the colored hair, it’s not my style, but have to declare its brave and if that’s what people fancy then so be it.

HONK!

 

It just seems all I ever do all day is blow my nose.  Honk!  Although I try and be, I’m not a feminine honker either and have had looks come my way to let me know that.   People have actually turned around in restaurants; embarrassing to say the least.  It seems allergy season is with me 12 months of the year.

I envy the dainty nose blower – kind of a 2 sided nostril quiet blow. But is it effective?   My mission is one thing – do it, and do it right the first time.  No holds barred!

Then there are the true-blue cloth hanky people; men, I deem this is still an old fashioned custom.  But the washing of these babies possibly mixed in with anything else on wash day makes me cringe.  It would be the women who would do the wash.

Also are the people who choose not to use a Kleenex or hanky at all; just the squeezing of the nostrils thus stifling a sneeze, or hoping their sleeve will catch it all.  This would give a brain a shake or two.

Also, we have the people who leave their used Kleenexes everywhere; side of couches, coffee tables, atop desks, in cars, etc.

And Kleenex – I prefer the actual brand Kleenex®.  Some of the cheaper brands can be determined as cheaper but when a giant sneeze comes along, and the residue doesn’t stay within the confines of the tissue….well… you catch my drift.

So I will keep honking as usual, but rest assured I will always have my trusty Kleenex at my side wherever I venture.

AH-CHOOOO!

PAMPER YOURSELF, DARLIN’

A friend suggested, “why not indulge yourself with a pedicure”.  I had never visited a nail salon prior to this, given that my 40 year nail biting habit never required a manicure.  A pedicure?  Clumsily, I had been performing my own pedicure for years, often times causing ingrown toenails.  I viewed my bureau teeming with bottles of nail polish; the majority used only once, due to color match up.  The colors in the store by no means looked identical when applied to my feet, and for that rationale never reused.  So, I splurged and booked an appointment the next day.

It’s called “spa pedicures”, a footbath or large bowl filled with warm water and therapeutic mineral salts.  Seated in a comfy lounge chair, rolling up my pant legs and removal of socks, I inserted my feet into the bubbly blue water.  The water temperature was a trifle hot initially, but the powerful jets felt invigorating and after a few minutes I became used to the heat. 

Soon after the soak, the technician began clipping my toenails with a clipper or nipper. Looked similar to sharp pliers, then smoothed them with a nail file. In addition, she gently pushed back cuticles and used a cuticle moisturizer as they were still hard. A mild foot scrub was applied to soften all calluses and flaky skin. A massage of my soles and calves with this pink lotion felt very soothing. This was followed by my selection of polish.

The three women working in this salon were Korean and spoke little English.  They worked meticulously on the three women who were seated alongside me.  Conversations were in their language between themselves, laughter engaged making one wonder who, and what they were laughing at.  Sounds as if I’m a bit on the self-conscious or suspicious side, however, when you have your foot sticking out of the water and all of the technicians eyes are staring at it, one would think in that direction.  I didn’t think I had bunions; perhaps they found something else a tad comical.

I utterly enjoyed this pedicure, it was incredibly relaxing, and worth the $25.00 charge.

Just to add…..While waiting for the technician to begin my pedicure, a young woman seated next to me, also enjoyed the bubbly bath, was chatting on her cell phone.  A few moments passed, flipped through several ‘rag mags, and sat back and relaxed.  Unexpectedly I heard PLUNK! The woman yelled “my phone went in the water!!”  Two technicians, who were giving manicures ran over, and retrieved the phone.  The woman rapidly dried her feet off and left.  I often wondered what happened to that phone – I would think “TOAST”.

Graphic:  www.topnailsspa.com

 

TO EXFOLIATE OR NOT TO EXFOLIATE

I have started on this “younger looking” complexion regimen numerous times and frankly never stick with the program.

You purchase all of these products advertised; cleansers, salicylic acid solutions, peel kits, extracts….just a myriad of products.

Some of these products are very expensive; one exfoliate solution (with rice and milk ~~ do I really want food on my face?) was $85.  And why is everything “extra advanced”?  What does that mean exactly?  Some of these products stated they were ‘serums’ containing ‘amino peptides’.  Lots of de-flaking was described as the biggest draw, as well as, re-texturing.  The de-flaking I can comprehend, but the ‘peptides’?

On some of the products I noticed as their descriptive words: “polyfroctol”, and “biofermented acetyl glucosamune”.  If you are reading the package in the store, would you even know what these words meant?  I doubt it.

All of this is mumbo-jumbo to me.  I purchased your basic cleanser and scrub and still didn’t stick with it, but it only cost me $10.00.  When I did venture the expensive way, the results were the same.  Makes you wonder doesn’t it.

 

THE FROG AND THE URINAL

I thought this is hilarious, and a true story by the way (who else would make this up!).

Hubby was at one of our local parks when duty called and went searching for a restroom.  Those outdoor ones are repulsive at parks, but he had no alternative.  Upon entering he discovered a frog in the only urinal.  That’s right a frog.

Now, these were his choices:  1) Remove the filthy frog from the urinal, OR, 2)  pee over the frog?   What would you have done?   I’ll leave the guessing up to you, and leave you wondering what he chose!

Graphic:  Flickr photographer:  mikaplexus

 

THEY ARE WATCHING YOU!

Just yesterday, while hubby and I were exiting a larger department store, we observed a man in handcuffs being escorted to a waiting police car.  The cop was carrying 2 bags of “loot”; I presume this was a shoplifter (not a very good one), and this was to be his ‘take’.

Then, last week my mother and I were going to join a friend for lunch and arranged to meet in front of the $1 Dollar Store (situated inside a mall) downtown.  While waiting on the bench outside of the store, engaged in conversation, out of the blue this man in a plaid shirt comes flying out of the store.  “Stop, stop right there”, he yelled.  He was motioning to the male teenager.  “Empty your pockets”.   The teen didn’t appear nervous or upset while empting his stash of 8 – 10 chocolate bars.  He was caught red-handed.  My first thought was:  I was unaware they had a ‘mystery shopper’ designed to catch potential thieves in such a small store, however, maybe too much theft warrants it.  Second:  For this young male to risk it all for chocolate bars; obviously not well thought out. 

It’s disturbing on occasion while shopping in a store, as some stores will announce a security situation in a part of the store.  Example:  Over the P.A. system “Security: Section Blue, Aisle B”.  Here you are standing there looking at bras and wondering if you are in “Section Blue/Aisle B” and the cameras are focused precisely on you. 

I become nervous shopping; having virtually coke-bottle glasses and can’t see up close worth a darn, and have my glasses habitually in my purse in their case.  When I’m in the store I’m unable to see the prices on the tag or even the size and have to dip into my purse for the glasses.  This is a worry to me, often thinking if someone is watching; do they think “is she sneaking something into her purse”?  I try to put the glasses on before entering the store.

Also nerve-wracking is the security announcement exiting the store.  I have been paying for items at the cash register, and the announcement over the P.A. will say, “Could we have security at the mall doors”.  Geez, I’m paying for my stuff, see!  Almost makes you not want to leave the store.

A co-worker was relating a story about working at a large department store; a mother and her children were shopping, or should I say shop-lifting.  The mother dressed the children in new clothes off the racks (placed over their own clothing), as well as, dressing herself.  She proceeded to leave the store – but got caught red-handed.  Now that took gall.

 

VENDING RIP-OFF

Well, I was 3X unlucky this week; I have lost my hard earned money to vending machines.  You would have thought after the 2^nd one, I would known better, but I was desperate and craving salt & vinegar chips.

My first rip-off was $1.60 for bottled water at a machine outside of a department store.  I put in the coins and then the coins came back.  That should have been my first clue to a dud machine, however I persisted and inserted them again, and you guessed it – nothing came out.  Rip-off #2 was a few days later at machine inside of a mall.  Thirsty for a Coke Zero, I inserted my $1.20 and it ate my coins ‘cos nothing came out.  I was ready to kick the machine, but didn’t want to cause a scene and have security called over a can of pop.

Rip-off #3 was for the chip craving, and my own fault really; three times and your out.  But the machine looked new and inserted my $1.10.  (I actually inserted $1.25 and didn’t get the change or the product).  On the machine I noted the phone number on a sticker: “If you aren’t completely satisfied with this product or service please call XXX-555-1234”.  So, I called and the number was an answering service, left a message.  No response and called many times after that stating the “manager was in a meeting”.  Convenient, I’d say OR there is no manager.

I think this vending machine service is a scam.  How many times does this happen?  Are these purposely faulty machines or just a fluke at random purchases?  I especially detest when purchasing a chocolate bar or chips it comes right to the end and hangs there.   You are unable to reach it to retrieve and you’ve lost your money.

MOANS, GROANS & OBSERVATIONS (PT. 2)

Nowadays we live in the world of store scanning – labeling items is becoming a thing of the past.  The only glitch is, occasionally on the shelf where the item is placed (whether it be grocery, clothing, household etc), there is only a scan code bar and no price.  You either have to wait until you arrive at the cashier for the price, or utilize a scanner which is occasionally provided within the store.  I think it’s a ploy for the store or possibly inept management; perhaps knowing if you want the product you will buy it regardless. 

What is with people picking their noses in public?  That is disgusting.  Use a Kleenex, and if you must feel the need to do this – then go somewhere private.  Also, looking over while at a stop light is no treat either; the person in the car alongside you has his whole hand up his nostrils and must be vacuuming.  Geez, certainly use a tissue. 

Why is it every time at amateur talent shows; whether it is local or in the big city or in Hollywood or wherever, there for eternity has to be 1 or 2 Elvis Impersonators?  They typically are very bad, generally sing “You’re Nothing but a Hound dog”, and have the stuck on side burns via Krazy Glue.  Also, the same tired white outfit with sequins is repeatedly worn, and in my estimation some are so youthful they don’t even know who or what an icon Elvis was.

Spitting.  Announcement:  All of you people out there who believe you must leave your spit on the sidewalks – could you please refrain.  Consider us who are standing at bus stops or walking along and are the recipient of your unpleasant spit.  Would you like it if a mound of disgusting spit landed on you?  Why do people spit anyways?  Is it a custom?  Do they have a bad taste in their mouths?  If it’s the bad taste theory, then chew on some gum or pop some tic-tacs.  Why must we walk on your freshly formed spit? 

Bag of chips.  50% air, 50% chips.    

WHEN YA GOTTA GO, YA GOTTA GO!

What is it about me and public bathrooms?  It never fails, practically every time I’m out – it’s pee time and the search is on for a public washroom.  The huge decision – do I hang on and do that ‘I gotta go now dance’ in the department store, or surrender and hunt endlessly for their facilities.  I loathe this decision with a passion and question if my body is on some sort of timer.

In the larger stores, I’m the one found asking at least 3 sales clerks to point me in the right direction, then rapidly sprinting to my potty destination.  These bathrooms always appear to be situated in the oddest spots; next to portrait studios, layaways, and hardware or auto tire departments.  Possibly when the store was first designed, these departments weren’t chosen as neighbors.

Travelling on the road is not much better, although seated in the car, desperation sets in, and “I gotta go” follows…..which brings me to my little tale but also my big question:  Why do they lock bathrooms at some gas stations that are filthy and essentially in the middle of nowhere?  Are they fearful people will steal something or construct a home in there?

Desperation set in and hubby and I pulled up to this roadside gas bar.  The place looked modern and clean outside, so I ventured inside.  Also, the interior was orderly with only one clerk on duty who handed me a bathroom key attached to a wooden stick with a happy face on it.  The bathroom was unisex and I somehow expected a pristine looking bathroom; I couldn’t have been more mistaken.

What struck me first was the toilet and the ugly stain around the bottom of the base.  I didn’t even want to look into the bowl.  The sink was filthy, dripping, with a well-used pink bar of soap, and a brown stain around the drain.  Oodles of toilet paper (I hope clean) all over the floor, and the waste basket overflowing with paper.  A few phone #’s on the wall reading “Tattoo’s At A Good Price” and “Call Cindy @ 123-4567”.  It made me want to puke.

I high tailed it out of there, returned the key, and stated “You have one filthy bathroom in there”.  No reply.

Graphic:  Flickr photographer:  walla2chick

 

THE HOTEL EXPERIENCE & CONTINENTAL BREKKIE

 

My job doesn’t warrant travelling with only brief personal vacations here and there; therefore, my hotel visits are purely for pleasure.  We (hubby and I) visit the mid-priced places; no room service or doorman with our prices.  Personally, I will open my own doors, thank you.

Even though mid-priced; I am very picky. As a MAJOR anti-smoker, I expressly request a non-smoking room, and so if I unlock the door to the odor of Chanel da le Cigarette, then its back to the front desk I go.

I really preferred the olden days with the hotel keys.  Yes, plain old hotel door keys – none of these card–style jobbies.  Many times, we have slipped the card it into our door – and then NOTHING.  You are left standing there wondering if you have the correct room #, which of course isn’t shown on the card.  You try and retry, and saunter back to the front desk.  You are given a new one.  Same thing.  You almost feel like slipping your video rental card from home and see if you have better luck.

Inspected in the room first is the bathroom, for in my eyes this is the most important room in the room.  Toilets must flush and not run; tub, shower, and vanity must shine.  Even though “Henrietta the Housekeeper” has left her signature card, doesn’t mean the room has been cleaned.  This could be a cleaning scam for all I know – so I must complete this myself.  New tiny shampoo & conditioner bottles with soaps help though; and what about those cloths for buffing shoes?  Do people really use those things?  Most people wear sneakers.

Roll back the bed covers – I want no surprises.  If there are ciggie burns – watch out!

The room’s view.  This is at times confusing.  When given the card/key, you walk down the hallway (sometimes the elevator or stairs) it can throw you off as to exactly where the hell you are situated on the hotel grounds.  Almost like opening up a Christmas present when you pull back the drapes in the room.  At times pleased, other times let down.

Usually greeting me on the telephone table are the many restaurant/retail coupons.  Glossy 2 for 1 Pizza’s, compete with 32 item buffet Chinese food and 24 breakfast bonanzas.  I rarely order to eat in my room.  If I was to eat in my room, I may as well stay at home and order in.  The whole idea is to try a new restaurant in this new or different city.

The sauna-whirlpool-in-the-room idea.  Last summer we visited a hotel in Michigan, and the room included a whirlpool.  I was quite excited about this when booking, but after we got the room, I was petrified to go into it.  The sides sloped (I suppose they are designed that way), but were so shiny, and Miss Clumsiness here, if I ever dared set one toe into that bubbly water, I would have gone flying.  So hubby went in, and even he said it was slippery.  Forget the sauna-whirlpool-in-the-room after this.

TV – a must – check out the channels – movies pay-per-view (not of interest).

Internet – also not of interest.  I’m on holidays and away from my blog and computer and besides, I don’t own a laptop.

Not of great importance – but part of the hotel price – fridge.  Hopefully not full of frost and ice.  Microwave working.

Hair dryer – I’ve only ever used a dryer on one trip in my life.

Iron – never – If I’m on vacation – I ‘aint ironing anything for anybody!

The vending machine.  Usually rip-off prices.  $2.00 for Doritos? Or Water?  I’ll buy a big bag of chips at Wal-Mart when we are out shopping and a case of water for those prices.  Only when desperate do I sink my money into the vending machines.

The hotel typically provides newspapers that are never appealing to me; but I take one anyways ‘cos they are free and occasionally come away surprised at how interesting they were.

The Continental Breakfast  Issue:  I enjoy these immensely.  Some hotels are superior to others.  They are free and beat starting the day with a greasy breakfast of eggs and bacon.  Problem is, I end up eating more than the greasy breakfast, what with the 2 bowls of Fruit Loops, bagel w/cream cheese, gooey cinnamon bun, assorted fresh fruit and sometimes pastry and orange juice! 

The pool is not a big plus for me, and truthfully, I could care less.  I only seek out hotels that include them for hubby’s sake.  A 10 minute swim and having my hair all amiss, plus the odor of chlorine just isn’t worth it. I am keen on the hot tubs though from time to time.  The saunas make me feel as if I have breathing problems.  The exercise equipment I never use.  I have much the same at home, which has gathered cob webs and is mostly used to support clothing and other such goods. (The intentions were there and The Shopping Channel got my money, the equipment arrived…and well a few months later the dust started gathering).  So, while I’m away enjoying myself on my mini-vacation – nay – don’t think I’ll do the treadmill!  Excuses….you know.

But it’s the whole escaping from home for just a bit that is exciting, and so is the hotel experience.  Overall, we have had pretty good luck with hotels, and last year we stayed at an excellent hotel where they invited guests for a complimentary buffet supper.  Superb.

Happy travelling folks!

Graphic by:  Flickr photographer: Apricot Cafe

DOG-EARED MAGAZINES & THE WAITING ROOM

The wait in a doctor’s waiting room can on occasion be short and sweet, rarely happening to me, or, you can bring camping gear to set up for the day.  You recognize you are in a dilemma when, after driving two hours and upon arriving, the receptionist slides the plexi-glass window, takes your name, shuffles through files and says, “Were you scheduled for an appointment today?” a sudden fright is felt.  “Yes, at 11:00 a.m.”  “Hmmm…How do you spell your last name again?”.  “OK, just have a seat and we’ll we right with you”.   A commotion develops, receptionists are in a huddle, when suddenly, “yes, you are booked for 11:00 a.m., but he is backed up a bit”.  ‘Backed up’ in my experience translates to at least a minimum of 1 ½ to 2 hours or more.  I detest these backed up doctors, stuck in the waiting rooms fearful to leave for even a snack or pee break in the event your name is called.  If they call you and you aren’t there, I’m sure they will not be holding your space open and assume you surrendered and left for home.

Waiting is the agonizing part.  Magazine reading grows thin, furthermore, they are typically dog-eared and dated; some dating as far back as 2004.  (Britney Spears wasn’t in as much trouble back then).  Then you fall into almost a snooze/light snoring mode and suddenly a name is called.  You perk up “Was that me she called?” you say to yourself?  Nah, some old guy gets up with a smile on his face and gets ushered into ANOTHER WAITING ROOM. 

This office waiting room came equipped with an annoying TV and large screen.  The only programs viewing were that of health shows, people jogging, playing tennis, swimming, eating yogurt, bananas, brushing their teeth all day long.  I came away that day with the knowledge of how overweight I really am, my percentage of fat, safety car seats for babies, how to cook with asparagus 23 different ways, and at the rate I’m going…..I should have  already been dead by now!

The clock was ticking…..it was 1:00 p.m. and suddenly MY name is called.  Yippee!  Actually the metal/fabric chair was feeling not too badly on the ass end, but my turn has come and like the gentleman before me, I am ushered into the next WAITING ROOM for another WAIT. No mags in this room though!

PERHAPS THE COMB-OVER QUESTION WASN’T A GOOD IDEA!

The first real hurdle to jump, after the e-mail or mailed resume, is the call for the actual job interview itself.  This is followed by the nerve wracking wait by the phone to see if you got the job.  Personally, I feel the wait is worse.  Antacids could be used at a time like this for quick relief.

Walking doggie is put on hold, so are showers, phoning friends/family, cupboards remain empty due to fear of leaving the house, and each time the phone does ring the heart races and diving across the room for the phone becomes the norm.  Hopes are thwarted when it’s a telemarketer selling carpet cleaning or hubby wondering what’s for din-din.

Suddenly, your mind is swirling.  You question the references supplied.  Did your last boss really think you were a worthwhile employee and did the bang-up job you thought you did?  And the previous references; were they the best choices, and will they remember you?  People forget other people fast.  Out of sight, out of mind.

Then you begin to question everything else.  I should have been quicker with my answers, maybe not mentioned I was a non-smoker, and perhaps shared more of my strong points rather than my weak points, and then the biggie:  rehearsed the all important question – “why should we hire you?”  That one is always a toughie.  You don’t want to appear boring and hand them a pat answer such as:  “I am a hard worker and dependable”.  Possibly something such as this:  “I have unique skills, am energetic, a team player (I think this is phoney, but employers love these words) who is energetic and committed to any task that my come my way”.  Also, “I have good attendance, am punctual and a good sense of humor”.  This may be a better sell.

I do know that you should always ask something at the end of the interview, however, someone told me they asked about the interviewer’s family picture on her desk.  The interviewer became all red-faced and went into detail about the family photo and who was in it.  That would be a no-no.  Also, carry copies of your resume and references.  Do research on the company.  No limp lettuce handshakes.  No blabbering on and on – just answer questions short and sweet.  No bragging – nothing worse than a braggart.  Make sure cell phones are off.  Complaining or putting down last boss – MAJOR NO NO.  Someone asked an interviewer about his comb-over (stupid, and what purpose did it serve?).  Should I call and bother, or not call and bother after the interview?  Your decision.

Remember, you are interviewing them too.  Is this a place YOU want to work?

You leave an interview at times with the notion that you could have done better; ought to have said this/that, possibly laughed more at something humorous the interviewer said (even though it wasn’t), and the brain just sees no end to it all.  Suppose you simply have to sit back, maybe make some tea, stay calm and unhappily wait for that call.

Good luck to all who are waiting for that call.  I waited for “that call” countless times.  Not pleasant; but I did eventually land a position.

By the way:  I’m not in H.R. or a job counselor; just wanted to relay some tips.

 

 

MOANS, GROANS & OBSERVATIONS (PT. 1)

I’m sure this has happened to almost everyone.  You go thru the fast-food drive-thru, get your order, bring it home and it’s either the wrong friggin’ order, possibly someone else’s order or stuff is missing.  I mean, what do you do – return to the restaurant which is sometimes across town?  For me, they always seem to botch my order up.  So while everyone else is chomping on their burgers and fries, I’m left with just fries and no burger or visa/versa.  There is a conspiracy here I can feel it!   AAAARGH!

People who put you on hold on the phone at a business and never come back to the phone.  OR, if they do come back and explain your reason for calling, they say “Oh you need Claims Department”, just a second I will transfer you.  Elevator music.  “Claims Department” Explain spiel again.  “Oh you want “Accounting”….and this process is over and over and over…

Doesn’t it make you grit your teeth when you are typing, look up and realize you have the CAPS KEY ON?  

People who jog along the city street when there are sidewalks.  This is dangerous for them and for us who drive, especially in the winter time with snow banks and ice along the road.  I wonder who would be at fault and charged if one of these joggers were hit?

Lately I have been finding some of the younger people’s language a trifle annoying.  A few times lately, I have noticed young women “like” to say “like” a lot.  “Like” this:  “Like I can’t believe, like, her hair is like, too short and like, she has, like, too many tattoos”.  Maybe when I was younger we over-used the word “man” a lot?

Telemarketers are becoming coy and the recordings left on our voicemails are paying the price.  When you listen to a message, for one, the message blasts in your ear it’s so loud.  Also, the last one I listened to, I couldn’t press delete until I listened to the entire friggin’ message.  

THE SPECIALIST

Isn’t waiting for a specialist (doctor) appointment enough to frost your socks sometimes?  Both the wait for the family doctor, followed by the specialist referral, and then the anticipated wait for the phone call from the specialist, can be a lengthy drawn out process.  Sometimes, an envelope of written instructions arrives in the mail.  Then comes the big day of the actual appointment where you wait in the waiting room….and wait….and wait…and wait some more……  

After waiting months and months to see a neurologist, I received that “call”, however, I had to wait several more months for the actual appointment.  It would be one more appointment concerning my infamous migraine anguish, but this time was assured by many I would be seeing “one of the best doctors in his field”.  My hopes would quickly be dashed and prove a wasted appointment.

Avoiding going into great details about the exam; let’s just say it was very brief.  Essentially this wonder doctor felt around the base of my skull and neck, asked me the identical old questions that I am forever asked, leafed through my thick chart and said “uh hum” a lot.  And, ultimately coming to same conclusion: “Yes, you suffer from bi-lateral migraines”.  Geez, I drove 2 hours and waited 5 1/2 months for this?

I have been a migraine sufferer since my early twenties, have been through the series of required tests to rule out anything other than migraines (x-rays/spinal tap/MRI/scans), seen countless neurologists and in the end told “THERE IS NO CURE”.  Tylenol is really the only pain reliever, and as a last resort – the ER.  And you can imagine the ER route.  Migraine isn’t exactly a priority upon arriving at the Emergency Room, thus a 9-15 hour wait must be anticipated; if you’re lucky.  The guy with the stubbed-toe and I are sitting there tied for 25^th place to be called.  He’ll possibly go before me due to the presence of crutches. (Maybe I should have brought along my ice pack).

**This is not intended to be a “specialist bashing”; only my migraine account.  I have visited several other specialists for other concerns and grateful for their expertise, to be able to get me well and on my way.

Oh yes, I must add, I am incredibly grateful for the neurologist that I have now.  He finally found the exact medication to treat my migraines.  This man is brilliant.  It only took 28 years and 6 previous neurologists to strike it rich.  I’m not headache free, but at least not a permanent fixture in the ER waiting room.  Wow, how life has changed.

OOPS!

An embarrassing moment yesterday….I’m in the $1.00 Dollar Store and realized I didn’t have enough money when the cashier rang all of the items in.  OOPS!  Pretty bad when it occurs in a dollar store. 

I stood there, red faced, then having to choose which items to put back.   Hmmm….let’s see…. certainly not the chocolate bars, nor the birthday card I was late sending and came into the store in the first place, nor the spatula for tonight’s dinner aide, nor the candle holders and candles also for tonight’s din-din…….so back went the pens.  A tough decision.  On top of all that, the head cashier had to void the purchases, with the cashier having to ring in every purchase once again (minus the pens).  The lady next to me in line mentioned this happened to her and sounded sympathetic, but the others in line each had a scowl on their faces.

Moral of the story:  Check your wallet before entering a store; making sure you have more money than what the purchases total.

I’d Say, This Guy ‘Aint Too Bright!

From:  News Bizarre

April 06, 2008,  Associated Press

JOB APPLICATION POINTS POLICE TO ROBBERY SUSPECT

ATHENS, Ga. — Police said they got a major clue to the identity of a suspect in the armed robbery of a convenience store — his job application.

Investigators in Athens, Ga., said Demetrius Robinson filled out the application to kill time while waiting for the Golden Pantry store to empty of customers.

Authorities said it was Robinson who then produced a knife and held up the store last week.

The job application gave Robinson’s name and an uncle’s phone number, but a phony address.

Police arrested the 28-year-old Saturday on armed robbery charges.

An official at the Clarke County Jail said Robinson remained in custody Sunday.

Saturday Treasure Hunting

Well spring has sprung, and with that comes…church bazaars and garage sales.  Churches go into hibernation until spring, but it’s time for funds to be raised, and what better method than a bazaar.

Mom and I began today with our first bazaar of the season, and I am in my glory. The doors are set to open @ 8:00 a.m., but mom and I arrive promptly at 7:00 a.m. to beat the crowds.  We miscalculated, hoards of people have previously arrived, and thus we are far back in line.  Throughout our wait, others in line swap stories of last year’s cherished buys, sharing secrets and stories about where they found a new home for their article.

Additional people waiting for the same thing, convert into vultures throughout these events, beginning with the opening of the doors.  Eight O’Clock on the nose, and suddenly the doors are flung open, where all hell breaks loose!  This resembles the ‘Running of the Bulls in Pamplona’.  I denote, bargains do lie ahead, but let’s not lose one’s existence in the process!  Instantaneously entering the sizeable (cafeteria) room, both of us posses trained eyes as to where to proceed.  At the moment, tables displaying aged books, records, magazines are of no appeal.  Paintings, homemade paint-by-number jobbies, crafts (bird houses), crocheted doilies, dried flower arrangements including wreaths, are all ho-hum clutter to me, so therefore not of curiosity.

Mom and I use strategy and split up.  We both discern what each other is chiefly in the hunt for and will seize that item, thus gathering afterward to evaluate.  We are seasoned bazaar/flea market buyers, generally only purchasing what is essential, not as in preceding years arriving home with an armful of bits and pieces which ultimately established a new home months later at a thrift shop.

I zero in on the clothing table, and viola, an actual plus-sized section.  Many items bore well-known labels; never came across this feature before.  Wow, and so I embark on my rummage.  Whilst admiring a pink shirt, a woman standing alongside me yanks the shirt right out of my hands.  This has occurred in the past at other sales, and although chagrined, I found it just isn’t worth a fist fight over second-hand goods.  If somebody desires an article of clothing that desperately, why not even speak to me first? 

Continuing on, I observe several men over by the tools, and grin, as they painstakingly inspect their treasures also with pride.  Also, a group surrounds the was-intended-to-get-in-shape exercise equipment.  These heartrending looking rowing machines, if not mistaken, were fetching $15 each.  Poor things possibly got six months worth of use – you know how it is – I’ve been down this road myself.

While strolling about the jam-packed room, I am staggered by the quantity of suitcases put on view. Are people not travelling any longer?  And so many backpacks?  Were the cross-country expeditions put on hold?  Are students graduating or downgrading to fanny packs?

Conclusion:  Today I came away with a few brand new t-shirts (less the pink one); mom a new pair of ‘ducky’ boots.  That’s ok.  Mom and I had girl’s day out, had a great time experiencing my first bazaar of the season.

Garage Sales

Now, they are in a dissimilar group.  A still used item, however, negotiation is involved at times which presents a challenge.

Scouring the garage sales ads Friday evening online, I choose which ones we will strike.  The majority of course is within our district, and street sales are desired.  These sales represent 4 or 5 houses on one street having their own sale, therefore, a one-stop car ride.   Most sales start the ball rolling at 8:00 a.m.; we habitually arrive at 7:15 a.m.

Equipped with a wallet full of change and small bills, this is a wise idea.  A $20 bill to purchase a 50¢ item at 7:15 in the morning is not shrewd.  Frequently we drive by and evaluate the house, goods and quantity of other cars prior to actually stopping.  I do not have small children, so for that basis a misuse of time for me to look at a driveway full of strollers, toys and games.  Also not of curiosity to me are large furniture items or old televisions.  Aside from that, we stop and take a peek at virtually every sale on our list.

Garage sale hunting is enormous fun.  It’s the thrill of only paying $3 for something, which would perhaps cost 4 times more retail.  In my opinion, so what if it’s second-hand, as long as you adore it, the item works, and looks distinctive in your home; then you’ve won.  Over the years I have found numerous household items, personal things but on the whole it is all entertainment for me.  No better way to finish off a frazzled work week.