Winter of My Discontent
Amazing how something like the crappiest winter in a decade could keep me from blogging, but I’ve been so busy shoveling and cursing the lack of El Nino, I just haven’t been typing as I should. We’re so far below average; we look like George W. Bush’s college grades.
Whew! Is it 4705 already? I don’t feel a day over 4302. As this year my birthday* coincided with Chinese New Year, it was a great excuse to go out for a feast! Well, they sure weren’t kidding about the whole Year of the Pig thing at our local Chinese eatery. We ordered the special dinner for two and will have leftovers well into the year of the Rooster…
This brings up the Chinese Zodiac, something I love, as I’m a Snake! (Mr. Right is my very compatible star mate, the Ox).
So I’m doing my Valentine’s shopping last week and picked up some gloves, since Al needed new ones. I look on the rack for a size and a color choice. Didn’t give it much thought; they were bound together with the plastic tie used by stores to affix tags to merchandise. Al opens his gifts (none too impressed with the tartan-green iPod holder; what’s with that? Doesn’t every one live to accessorize?) and tries on the gloves. Two lefts! I just hope that guy with two right hands is happy. Or maybe some amputee got a real deal, whatever.
I go back to the department store Friday for the return. Of course, as a Shopaholic (our twelve-step program meets at those old malls on deadmalls.com – so far, we’ve bought all the old store fixtures) I can’t JUST return something. I must leave with even more great sale stuff…
A box of 20 wooden hangars on the Clearance rack catches my eye. It’s like down to $7.45 or something. In the cart it goes. So do the Valentine’s day candles and holders, necklace and earrings, a leather belt, and underwear for Al.
I scour the Thermal Long Underwear rack in the hopes of making it to May first alive. Plenty of pretty choices – all in XXL. Hmmm. Proof positive fat people don’t get as cold as scrawny ones. Discouraged, I go to the checkout.
As I stand in line, I notice the racks and racks of Chicago Bears wear under the “60% off” signs at the front of the store. Should I get some for Al? Naw, it’ll be 75% off next week. There’s certainly no shortage! I’m amazed at how much is there. Gosh, guess they were anticipating some demand, eh?
I approach the checker and see a President’s Day sign. Oh my gosh, I get an additional 15% off! Whee! I would have bought more, had I known! Guess I should have looked at the Bears stuff. There’s always next year.
Get home and inspect the hangars. They must have been made by the country that underbid China. One of the cross bars looks warped, but other than that, they’re quite nice for hanging blue jeans. I do the math and they came to about 37 cents each. Score!
Had to go to the local Wal-Mart for the long underwear. Guess it make sense. Who shops at Evil Mart? Yep. All the sedentary SUV-driving, snack-cake buying locals. Plenty of Smalls on the rack. Not the same quality, but I’m too chilly to be picky at this point.
*"Forty-two!" yelled Loonquawl. "Is that all you've got to show for seven and a half million years' work?"
Amazing how something like the crappiest winter in a decade could keep me from blogging, but I’ve been so busy shoveling and cursing the lack of El Nino, I just haven’t been typing as I should. We’re so far below average; we look like George W. Bush’s college grades.
Whew! Is it 4705 already? I don’t feel a day over 4302. As this year my birthday* coincided with Chinese New Year, it was a great excuse to go out for a feast! Well, they sure weren’t kidding about the whole Year of the Pig thing at our local Chinese eatery. We ordered the special dinner for two and will have leftovers well into the year of the Rooster…
This brings up the Chinese Zodiac, something I love, as I’m a Snake! (Mr. Right is my very compatible star mate, the Ox).
So I’m doing my Valentine’s shopping last week and picked up some gloves, since Al needed new ones. I look on the rack for a size and a color choice. Didn’t give it much thought; they were bound together with the plastic tie used by stores to affix tags to merchandise. Al opens his gifts (none too impressed with the tartan-green iPod holder; what’s with that? Doesn’t every one live to accessorize?) and tries on the gloves. Two lefts! I just hope that guy with two right hands is happy. Or maybe some amputee got a real deal, whatever.
I go back to the department store Friday for the return. Of course, as a Shopaholic (our twelve-step program meets at those old malls on deadmalls.com – so far, we’ve bought all the old store fixtures) I can’t JUST return something. I must leave with even more great sale stuff…
A box of 20 wooden hangars on the Clearance rack catches my eye. It’s like down to $7.45 or something. In the cart it goes. So do the Valentine’s day candles and holders, necklace and earrings, a leather belt, and underwear for Al.
I scour the Thermal Long Underwear rack in the hopes of making it to May first alive. Plenty of pretty choices – all in XXL. Hmmm. Proof positive fat people don’t get as cold as scrawny ones. Discouraged, I go to the checkout.
As I stand in line, I notice the racks and racks of Chicago Bears wear under the “60% off” signs at the front of the store. Should I get some for Al? Naw, it’ll be 75% off next week. There’s certainly no shortage! I’m amazed at how much is there. Gosh, guess they were anticipating some demand, eh?
I approach the checker and see a President’s Day sign. Oh my gosh, I get an additional 15% off! Whee! I would have bought more, had I known! Guess I should have looked at the Bears stuff. There’s always next year.
Get home and inspect the hangars. They must have been made by the country that underbid China. One of the cross bars looks warped, but other than that, they’re quite nice for hanging blue jeans. I do the math and they came to about 37 cents each. Score!
Had to go to the local Wal-Mart for the long underwear. Guess it make sense. Who shops at Evil Mart? Yep. All the sedentary SUV-driving, snack-cake buying locals. Plenty of Smalls on the rack. Not the same quality, but I’m too chilly to be picky at this point.
*"Forty-two!" yelled Loonquawl. "Is that all you've got to show for seven and a half million years' work?"
"I checked it very thoroughly, it's 42" said the computer, "and that quite definitely is the answer. I think the problem, to be quite honest with you, is that you've never actually known what the question is."
And a Happy Birthday to all who make jokes in base 13!
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