Cranky

I ran into a cranky old bitch at Whole Foods today. Normally I avoid Whole Foods on Saturday mornings because it's almost too much white yuppiness to handle. White yuppiness means people who get the really big carts and then start ramming them into each other in some sort of entitlement bumper car game. But I was desperate for some groceries.

Anyway, this old woman, who had one of the produce plastic bag stands right in front of her decided she needed the stand in front of me as I was selecting peaches. So she says "excuse me" really rudely and tries to tear out a bag unsuccessfully. And then acts as if somehow my standing doing my thang is totally killing her. So, I do the nice thing and tear the bag out for her, at which she snatches it from my hand and says "thank you" really sarcastically. At that point the Whole Foods produce guy and I looked at each other and started laughing. "Oh menopause, it makes us all into bitches," I say loudly. I really hope she heard me.

I'm so mature.

BTW - I really hope I never get old in case young people blame my misanthropist tendencies on my hormones. My misanthropy comes strictly from people sucking in general. That's really all.

On the same note, I have decided to stop saying "Sorry" whenever people almost run over me (like with aforementioned oversized grocery carts), or when they can't walk on the right side of the sidewalk, or veer into my path whilst chatting aimlessly on their Motorola razor phones.

The first reason to nix the gratuitous apology is that I don't really mean it. I think I picked this up when I lived in Ireland where people apologize to each other, the air, their Harp, etc. for no apparent reason. I used to think it was super dimunitive until I realized they didn't mean a word of it. Irish "sorry" means "you are in my way so move yo' ass" and that pretty much sums it up for me as well.

The second is that I have little to apologize for anyway. I have spent 29 years perfecting navigational skills that have assured maximum efficiency and politeness. I cede to handicapped people and old ladies (well, as long as they're not of the Whole Foods bitch variety). I stay alert in almost a marine-like manner to my surroundings, who is in them, and the ever-perilous condition of the New Orleans sidewalks. If people can't return the favor, well, my reaction should be more of the "silently annoyed but appearing zen" type than the flustered "I will now apologize for your lameness in learning how to walk."

Screw that.

P.S. I'm not alone.

Hm

"One of these is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong ..."

From my bar trip dossier:

"Marvel at the ancient temples of Angkor, face the horrific reality of the Killing Fields, relax on white sandy beaches, brave Saigon and Hanoi's chaotic streets, soak up the relaxed pace of life in Hoi An and Hue, and discover an incredible corner of Indochina that you will never forget."

Wow, genocide and white sandy beaches. Who can resist?

Doctors

I really dislike doctors, especially when they prescribe medication that makes you sicker than the problem you had in the first place. And they say stupid stuff to me like "well, if you had cancer the radiation would make you sick, but it'd keep you alive."

This is where they've got it all wrong. If I had cancer, I would buy a house in the middle of the woods and try to finish the Top 1001 books of all time list. And then, when it got really bad, I would hire someone to shoot me. I'm sure there are plenty of takers for that one.

But somehow doctors don't appreciate this anecdote.

Dessert

I have no time to do as much grocery shopping (my favorite "task" - I can spend hours looking at food, and the Whole Foods employees on the supplement aisle all know my name). But it's kind of good for me because I've been able to clean out my cupboard of random foods I bought for recipes I never got around to making.

Some of my decadent creations include: Mole sauce poured over chicken, tapioca made with whatever dairy product I can find in my fridge, wheat berries with olive oil, garlic, and pepper and my new favorite - lingenberries + graham cracker crumbs.

Still, the cabinets are emptying rapidly and it just might be that time.

As for the house hunt, I'm backing off. Right now I feel more like traveling the world instead of getting a mortgage. At least until the nesting instinct resurfaces.

PS- That is not a picture of my cabinet. I would never buy a single thing in it.

Still

I dropped by the clinic today to get my second check and the woman acted like she didn't know what I was talking about. I actually had to get on the computer and show her the six emails we exchanged because she "didn't remember anything about that."

God.

I hate my memory sometimes. I'm not great with names, but I'm fantastic with faces. I'll remember yours, when I met it, what verbiage came out of it. I unfortunately will remember that instead of laws I'm supposed to remember, and I'll certainly remember interacting with you. I just don't get why people don't return the favor.

I think, people who "forget" are just not paying attention. Paying attention is everything. Or maybe they do it because they get a kick out of making other people feel insignificant. Either way it's not cool and people should stop doing it.

I think, anyway.