This Is What Happens When I'm Crabby

Current Giveaways:

9Lives Prize Pack here
$25 Target Gift Card and a whole bunch of back to school type stuff here
Seventh Generation prize pack filled with cleaning supplies here

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Hmmm, or maybe it's what happens when I don't get enough sleep and then try to shop - at Costco no less - on the day before a major holiday.

Dear People-Stalking-The-Samples,
I'm here to shop. And I'd like to get home to finish making up a few items for parties this weekend before the store closes. While it's nice that Costco provides samples, they aren't meant to be your lunch. If the samples aren't ready - especially if it's something that is baking - please don't block the entire walkway so that no one can get by. And if someone asks you politely to move, do so.

kthxbai,


Dear Lady-Behind-Me-Exiting-Costco,
I teach my wee ones certain rules when we're shopping. Among them, make sure you leave sufficient space between you and the person ahead of you. Needless to say, my bleeding stump of a foot and I were somewhat shocked to find that the person who rammed me with a cart while I was waiting for my receipt to be highlighted was a woman older than I was. Now, had I stopped suddenly or in the middle of an aisle, I might understand this, but... really? Please make sure you're watching where you're going when pushing a heavy cart like this.

kthxbai,


Dear Car-Behind-Me-While-I'm-Waiting-To-Turn-Left,
I lived in Chicago for long enough. A small tap of the horn really isn't going to do anything. A longer beep, and you're just going to annoy me - provided that I'm not in the wrong. And when trying to turn left against a heavily trafficked 50 mile per hour four lane highway when I have a stop sign and the other traffic has nothing, I'm not going to just go when I have a tiny whole and hope for the best. Yes, I know it isn't a fast turn left, but such is as it is. I have no interest in risking my neck, so you can beep all you want, but it won't sway my opinion.

kthxbai,


Dear People-Driving-On-My-Two-Lane-No-Passing-Zone-Road,
Yes, I know it's a two lane road. And yes, I realize that it has some hills. Did you notice that sign you've passed four times now? It's the white one with the black writing that read "SPEED LIMIT 50" - in pretty big letters, mind you. That "5" and "0" on the sign tells you how fast you can go on this bright sunny day. It doesn't mean that you stop when your spedometer needle is halfway between the 30 and 40. It doesn't mean you stop when it's at the 40. Driving 15 miles under the speed limit mile after mile with cars tailgating me because of the speed you're forcing us to go is really not very safe, never mind inconsiderate.

kthxbai,


Dear Hosts-And-Hostesses,
When your guests arrive, offer them a beverage. It helps if you have more than one choice for guests who may not wish to drink a particular kind, but at least offer something. Food is also nice. When you invite people to your house, it's generally expected that you're going to provide something for them, and frequently they're thirsty when they arrive. No one likes to beg for something, and I for one always feel a little weird when I have to go digging for something to drink. Just be nice and offer us something upfront, and we'll all be in a better mood. Or so I hope.

kthxbai,


Dear Little Miss,
When someone goes through the effort of making you something and gives it to you, learn to be gracious. I don't care if you don't like it or don't know what it is. You've been raised to appreciate what you're given, and it's really sad when you hurt someone's feelings because you aren't nice to them when they offer you something. I'm very disappointed that this lesson hasn't sunk in.

Shape up,
(Mommy)

An Open Letter To Icky Ladies

Dear Icky Lady At The Wedding Last Night Who I'll Assume Had Too Much To Drink,

Hi there, I'm the one who was in the bathroom stall next to yours at the end of the wedding reception last night. I didn't get a chance to talk to you, but I'm still stuck with the vision of you in my mind, so I have to share. I'm assuming you just weren't thinking, so I'm hoping this helps you in the future.

When I first walked into the bathroom, I noticed that there was a roll of toilet paper on the ground between two stalls. Realizing that it was likely that at least one stall was out of toilet paper, I resigned myself the to thought of using that toilet paper. Let me clarify: to using that toilet paper roll after I'd peeled off an inch or so of the paper that had been touching the dirty bathroom floor.

Fortunately, my stall had toilet paper, so it wasn't an issue. Even taking off the paper that I know was close to the ground wasn't quite enough to really make me all that comfortable with the idea of using it.

Anyway, I noticed when you entered the stall that you had great red polish on your toes. Normally, this wouldn't be that unusual, as so many women (including me) wear open-toed shoes. However, you weren't wearing shoes.

Ewwww.

You weren't wearing shoes walking around outside on the patio where cigarette butts at the very least and broken glass most likely were there just waiting for you to step on them. And you weren't wearing shoes in the skanky end of the night bathroom. Ewww. That really grossed me out. REALLY grossed me out.

But then, then, you picked up the toilet paper roll off the floor -- it must have been your stall that was out of paper -- and just ripped of a bit and then used it. Granted, at this point, I was staring at the divider between our stalls in horror. I know you didn't take off the outside paper that was on the wet dirty nasty floor, not even the first layer. Your feet weren't quite so bad then, or maybe your feet were more explainable after that.

But then you put it back on the floor again for the poor next woman! I had thought about this when I walked into the bathroom (because I have these weird hypothetical situation conversations with myself on a regular basis) and already decided that if I had to use the icky toilet paper off the floor once I removed the ickiest parts, I would at least have the decency to put it on top of the dispenser after using it rather that simply returning it to the floor to get even grosser. Next time, do you think you could do that?

And maybe wear some shoes when you go into the bathroom?

Thanks so much!



PS I did love your gold heels. I saw them sitting on the counter when I went to wash my hands, so yay -- you did at least have some shoes somewhere. I also noticed your gorgeous iPhone sitting next to your shoes. In the empty bathroom. Next time, you might want to find a safer place to leave it. I didn't steal it (obviously!), but it would be so easy for someone to do so. And wouldn't that just be the cherry on the cake?

Seriously? It's For Charity

I spent much of last week and this weekend at our local elementary school helping them set up for and run the annual rummage sale. This is a huge rummage sale, bringing in between $15K and $20K each year. People look forward to it all year.

But after the work I've put into it, my faith in humanity is a little shaken. This is a fundraiser for the school. This isn't life or death, and it certainly -- in my mind at least -- isn't worth cheating over.

And yet, cheat and lie and steal people did.

Yesterday, I went through all the shoes midway through the day and reorganized them. I matched up every shoe that the evening before had perfect matches. There were sixteen shoes now lacking a mate. In other cleanup, I found three of the missing mates tucked behind the bleachers and under racks by enterprising souls who hoped to buy the $2 shoes for half price today.

My duty in the morning was to stand near the toy table to ensure that no one opened the bags and rebagged the $1 per bag toys or changed prices. To everyone's surprise (this was the first year they'd stationed someone at the table), I didn't catch anyone doing anything like this. Instead, people were caught in the back of the gym opening bags and stuffing as many Barbies in them as they could instead of paying the $1 per bag. And the $2 stickers for some of the nicer toys were littered on the floor.

I sorted through the jeans to straighten out the piles after the morning rush, only to find nice clothes thrust under the piles in the hopes that no one would find them. The same thing happened when I started returning items to the belt and socks and hat bins.

Even during setup, we weren't immune. As I would price one section, I'd notice a random box under a table and discover items that someone had put away for themselves. And at the worker presale -- for those of us who put in at least eight hours during setup -- people showed up who hadn't done one iota of work and then pulled out the items that other people had hidden for them.

Today was the bag sale. At the entrance, you bought a bag for $5 and could fill it. If you had more items than fit in the bag, you had to go back to the entrance and buy a new bag -- no stashing things and then buying bags later in an effort to be fair to everyone. You don't want to know the giant boxes I saw being filled with no regard paid to the workers requesting that they follow the rules.

C'mon, people. Do you really need this stuff? Is it worth cheating over? Do you feel better about yourself for having done so?

I know that I felt like I needed a shower by the time I left.