Friday, May 20, 2011

Starbucks Tried To Buy Me Off After They Attempted To Kill Me

Last night I went to meet two of my friends at Starbucks. This was good news because my kids were driving me crazy and I didn't feel like cooking dinner. Except we weren't going to meet until 8 which meant I still had to do something for dinner so I went for the Fun Mom Option and bought McDonald's. Then I hightailed it out of there.

Only 1 of my friends could make it because the other one was busy doing something called moving into a new home while still trying to take care of three small children and let's be honest, that sort of behavior should just be outlawed.

Being the stellar friends we are, we decided we would get a treat for Friend #2 and deliver it to her and also check to see if she was still somewhat sane and functioning, because we are caring people like that. Actually, it was totally Friend #1's idea, I just nodded my head and agreed with her. Not because I didn't want to do it, it's just that my mind doesn't work that way... you know, the whole thinking of others thing...

I cheerily ordered my standard drink of choice (grande chai tea latte) and became quickly enchanted with the shelves of Starbucks glassware. Particularly, this little beauty:



I know! Cute, right?

Except what you don't see is the unshaven shards of glass located at the bottum of the freaking cup.

Don't worry... my thumb found them. Because I'm one of those people who have textile issues ... like I can't stand touching sand or gravel, and would just about claw your eyes out before being forced to touch either of those, but I could spend hours running my fingers along the smoothness of marble or glass or stainless steel  - well, as long as there weren't any finger prints on the stainless steel because that would send me over the edge... anyway, you get my point.

I saw pretty glass. I actually considered buying the pretty glass. I rubbed my fingers over the pretty glass. And then it attacked me.

Precision cut almost all the way through the meat of my thumb. And when I say almost all the way through I mean after I squeezed at it for a good fifteen seconds drops of blood appeared. Actual droplets of blood, people!

I started getting light headed and dizzy, but thankfully my good friend was with me.

"Oh  my god! Did you just get cut? You can totally sue."

I looked at my deformed thumb "I can't sue them..."

"No. You can. You should totally sue them."

So I took the cup and my bloody nub up to the girl at the counter. Holding my hand above my heart (to slow down the speed of blood flow), I politely spoke, "Excuse me, but do you happen to have a bandaid I can borrow? I was just cut by this very dangerous glass."

Obviously they've had trouble with violent glassware before because she was back in half a second with a tourniquet and a first aid kit. Oh, yeah, they were ready - very suspiciously ready, for an injury.

I tried my best to fashion a bandage around my injury... and then she leaned in real close... lowered her voice to almost a whisper and said "If you don't fill out an incident report, I can give you this entire Berry Berry Coffee Cake and a piece of Lemon Pound Cake for free."

Honestly, I didn't know if I heard her correctly. Was she attempting to buy me off with calorie rich pastries? I couldn't think. I was getting light headed and the room was starting to spin... and I found myself nodding my head totally out of confusion and shock. 


And just like that, off we went to deliver our bounty to Friend #2 - who, by the way, has the most FABULOUS HOUSE EVER and I might just go over and never leave. (People can still claim squatters rights, can't they? How long must I squat?)

But now I'm thinking I settled for too low a price. I mean, this could get infected. I could lose the use of my thumb. It was actually quite uncomfortable this morning when I tried to use my thumb to flip open the top of the shampoo bottle. What if I can no longer open bottles of shampoo? I'm thinking Starbucks could make this right with a set of 16oz Recycled Glass Tumblers and a $25 gift card. Just sayin'.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

How I barely escape committing a federal crime...

So, as you may or may not know I'm raising money for the American Cancer Society Relay For Life because it's important. Sometimes I think they should just make every single person in the US pay just 99 cents a year and then maybe we could do some serious business in regards to detecting and treating cancers. So if I was president that's what I'd do. But no one will let me be president because they're all you signed those confidentiality statements back in 1992 and that would create serious problems if any of that got out.

Anyway, my idea was to have people donate just 99 cents at this blog I set up and - HOLY BALLS! People are doing it!!

Even if you don't want to donate, that's cool. I just ask that you send the link on - maybe tweet it, or Facebook it or toss it from little pieces of paper dropped from airplanes. Just help get the word out.

Okay, maybe not the dropping paper thing. That's considered littering and if you read today's post you'll realize the FBI probably already has me under surveillance and is waiting to bust me for committing a federal crime. I'll give you a hint, it involves this:

I swear, I found it this way.
And if the FBI is actually watching me, then they should donate just 99 cents, too. Because there are a lot of people who work for the FBI and that would add up quick. And it would be a shame to say to the FBI, "See, the general public donated more than you!" Unless the people donating weren't really the general public at all, but actually undercover FBI agents, we just didn't know that because they pretend they're Xerox machine salesmen. That FBI can be so tricky.


On a separate note, here's my cute Cletus the Used to be Fetus.
Have YOU donated to help fight cancer?
Have you told your friends to donate?
just 99 cents...

Don't you just want to eat him? You can't though. Because that would be sick and wrong.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

I'm going to take out a second mortgage to support our neighborhood bird seed habit.

I have a friend on Facebook who is always posting these pictures of beautiful flowers and her beautiful gardens and her posts make it seem so easy. (Yes, Stephanie, I'm talking about you.) When I look at her photos I think (1) I want that. And (2) I can do that!

Except me and flowers have an understanding: until such time as I can afford a competent landscaper I am not allowed to plant them, which only results in torturing them. And yet I desperately want my yard to be one of "those yards." The kind of yeard where people stop by and admire and say things like: I bet the people who live here are English. The English have always been known for their gardens. And their basement windows.

I figured I should start small. And seeds are small so that's as good a place as any to start. Just put them in the dirt, right? But then I remembered all the watering and that just scared me. Too much, too little, not the right time of the day - so much can go wrong....

And then I remembered that seeds can also be eaten... like, by birds... and BINGO! And we're starting on our yard! (I figure if any seeds make it into the ground to actual growth status I'll just call it my garden.)
I asked Big V to plant the bird feeder right in front of the patio doors so we could see if this worked. And also because I still kind of laugh every time a bird flies into a window. Unless it gets injured. Then it's just sad. And also, if it's a wild turkey trying to attack its reflection in my window then that would just scare me to death. There is nothing funny about a bird on a rampage. Trust me.

Then Dotter and I went to the store to pick up bird seed.

Did you know there are roughly 387 different kinds of bird seed? Me either.

So I just grabbed a bag.

And the nice lady at the checkout said it was $28.67.

And I wanted to toss it back and get the truck-stop/diner version but there were too many people behind me in line so I just sucked it up and took my overpriced bag of seed home with me.

And, at about 7:42pm on Sunday evening I filled up the cute hanging bird feeder.

And, at about 6:48am Monday morning it was completely empty.

So I filled it up again.

Only to have it completely emptied by the time I returned home from work at 6pm.

So, I filled the sucker up Monday night and, you guessed it - gone by morning.

Filled it up Tuesday morning .... empty Tuesday when I got home from work.

What the hell, birds? (Apparently only teenage birds dine at our feeder.)

Like a sucker I filled it one more time, also noting the nearly $30 bag of bird seed was just about empty.

And then I stood staring out the window waiting for the flock of birds or locusts or whatever was mowing through my seed.

And I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And then hopped into view a little bunny. He, or she, (I couldn't tell the difference from where I was standing) hopped right under the bird feeder and started nibbling happily on the grass.

V! I said. Look! We have a bunny!

"That's probably what ate all the bird seed."

What? A rabbit? Rabbits can't fly up there to eat the seed.

"Well... maybe he just stood at the bottom and shook it real hard..."


(1) I don't think so.
(2) I'm really hoping he was being more funny than serious.
(3) I can't actually tell the difference between a boy bunny and a girl bunny no matter how close I got.
(4) I don't ever want to be actually able to tell the difference between boy bunnies and girl bunnies.

That is all.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

My head hurts, but I'm pretty sure it's worth it.

I'd tell you something funny but nothing really funny has been happening, unless you count the feeling I've had for the past four days of wanting to punch Big V in the throat. But that's like, less funny and more criminal, so nevermind.

Also, my head hurts because I think I've got this totally cool way to raise money for the American Cancer Society but it included creaing a PayPal Button and hello?! I just learned to text. So this whole world of buttons and java script and widgets is not making me want to write, but rather making me want to drink a LOT of wine. But I can't because my kid has a school fundraiser tonight and she goes to a private Christian school. I'm not sure how they feel about drunks showing up.

Here's a sample of the skeleton blog I've created for my fundraiser. But it gets better. Oh, yes. It gets better! But I'll get into that tomorrow. Unless I'm hungover. Then I'll be busy trying not to dry heave.

Oh -- the link:  Just 99 Cents
(And, yes, I know it's not funny. Because I was thinking, y'all.)