Friday, January 23, 2009
Ba, Ba, Black Cat
It was a sad day at the Bacon house. Our eldest cat Sheeba lost her fight to kidney disease. She was a good cat. She was our first little kitten and I fondly remember her in our first appartment running to the door to greet Todd when he used to get home at two, three, or even four a.m. (She could hear his car lock from three stories up) She was always our queen bee, and she will be missed.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The Home Depot
I'm usually a champion at the home depot. In fact....I usually rock. I saunter in with the face of "Yeah, that's right...I know what I'm doing, and no,I don't need your help, in fact, let me show YOU how to tile..." Yeah...usually that's how it is...showing the folks at home depot up. But this Saturday I was not in my finest form.
I Saunter in, and because I am not at my home familiar turf Home Depot, I am lost. Usually, I would bee line right for the Sheetrock Aile with no qualms about me, pick up my s...tuff and go. But no. I am turned around. Officially lost, and reduced to looking at the big orange ilse signs to better my direction. This, in turn, leads to several associates asking me "Can I help you find anyhting?" "No. I'm Fine." And to the sheet rocking ailse I go. Now in the madness of it all I have forgotten to grab a long cart, and at this point I am refusing to do the walk of shame across all of the isles to grab a cart. I'm sure I can hold what I need in my hands. So I grab the corner pieces that I need, ten of them, and they are twelve feet long. Here I am. Ready to joust six feet in each direction. That's fine. I can handle this. The mud I need is at the beginning of the aisle. Just need to turn around...and apparently the aisles are shorter than twelve feet. I find this out by knocking into items on either side with my jousting sticks. I'll just back up to the beginning of the aisle. As a back up I hear a grunt, I turn my head, and see that I have successfully jousted a man wearing a flannel shirt in the stomach. If I was a gladiator I would have my freedom because that was a kill shot. "Sorry, sorry, sorry." I say as I continue down the aisle, grap the mud and make a mad dash to the checkout counter. Checkout goes like a breeze, and out to the car the same. I pop the trunk and already had the seat down and ready. I then hear "That's not going to fit." Flannel man. Now if I had been on my game he wouldn't have said anything. He may have thought it, but he wouldn't have said it. I turn around, smile and say, It really doesn't look like it today, but I've done this before, slide the posts right in and shut the trunk. Flannel says "You could fooled me". At least I got them in the car without incident. If not, I would have hung up my pink tool belt forever.
I Saunter in, and because I am not at my home familiar turf Home Depot, I am lost. Usually, I would bee line right for the Sheetrock Aile with no qualms about me, pick up my s...tuff and go. But no. I am turned around. Officially lost, and reduced to looking at the big orange ilse signs to better my direction. This, in turn, leads to several associates asking me "Can I help you find anyhting?" "No. I'm Fine." And to the sheet rocking ailse I go. Now in the madness of it all I have forgotten to grab a long cart, and at this point I am refusing to do the walk of shame across all of the isles to grab a cart. I'm sure I can hold what I need in my hands. So I grab the corner pieces that I need, ten of them, and they are twelve feet long. Here I am. Ready to joust six feet in each direction. That's fine. I can handle this. The mud I need is at the beginning of the aisle. Just need to turn around...and apparently the aisles are shorter than twelve feet. I find this out by knocking into items on either side with my jousting sticks. I'll just back up to the beginning of the aisle. As a back up I hear a grunt, I turn my head, and see that I have successfully jousted a man wearing a flannel shirt in the stomach. If I was a gladiator I would have my freedom because that was a kill shot. "Sorry, sorry, sorry." I say as I continue down the aisle, grap the mud and make a mad dash to the checkout counter. Checkout goes like a breeze, and out to the car the same. I pop the trunk and already had the seat down and ready. I then hear "That's not going to fit." Flannel man. Now if I had been on my game he wouldn't have said anything. He may have thought it, but he wouldn't have said it. I turn around, smile and say, It really doesn't look like it today, but I've done this before, slide the posts right in and shut the trunk. Flannel says "You could fooled me". At least I got them in the car without incident. If not, I would have hung up my pink tool belt forever.
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