Officiating

We were at a hockey game tonight, and at the end of the game a fan a few rows back stood up and yelled, "I've never seen worse calls in thirty years!"

And I thought really? I mean, I am not much of a sports fan at all and rarely go to any games, yet I have seen worse calls.

Clearly this guy wasn't at the lacrosse game where the referee showed up in flip flops (which he kept losing as he tried to run up and down the field). The kids also came off the field disgusted because that referee actually gave the players penalties for talking too loud. (Hangover anyone?)

So, were these bad calls? I don't know. But I highly doubt they were the worst calls ever.

Wisest Course

There are days when the wisest course of action--truly the most sane decision one can make--is to eat warm brownies for breakfast.

Today is one of those days.

Pressure

I know a couple people who practice yoga and meditation fairly seriously, attempting to learn about the precepts behind the practices in order to improve their lives and integrating all of it into their daily activities.

Ironically, they also happen to be the most tightly-wound, uptight, passive aggressive people I know.

My theory? I suspect that trying to stay calm and level all the time is causing the pressure to build and their heads are in danger of popping.

But that is just my opinion.

Death Wish

Since we were married, my husband has always travelled for work. Last year, he had over 300 hotel stays.

In October, he took an early retirement package. This means he has been home--24 hours a day, 7 days a week--with nothing to do.

Last week, he told me how to do the laundry. This morning, he has been reading the newspaper aloud to me. A newspaper I already read.

I may have to kill him.

Hold the Snark

Dear Boss,

You might want to hold the snark in the emails. Because when you crank it out, asking where my report is, and then have to send a new email in 2 minutes saying never mind because it was in your inbox the whole time? You are going to feel kinda sheepish. And I? I am going to laugh.

At you.

Sincerely,

Me

Brown

My son and his friend ordered some computer equipment online. According to the UPS tracking information, it was delivered two days ago. But no package has shown up on the doorstep! (Believe me, I'd know about it if it had--UPS must have invented their tracking process just to pacify teenage geeks waiting for their new toys to arrive. They only check where the package is about 47 times a day. And feel the need to inform me of every single check in and check out.)

So, obviously, it was delivered to the wrong place. Easy enough to fix, right?

Wrong! UPS has no interest whatsoever in correcting their mistake. After wading through an automated customer service system, a bored voice on the other end of the phone flatly spit out "Contact the original shipper." Click.

Okay. Now the shipper is more than willing to give me a refund or send replacements. But I am still absolutely dumbfounded that UPS is allowed to get away with just losing packages and the company that used them has to pay the price. (We're big on taking responsibility for your mistakes around here.)

So, then I get the job of explaining this whole thing to two 16-year olds. My son looked absolutely disgusted and when I finished he paused for a minute and then said, "What can Brown do for me?" "Brown can go f*ck itself while the rest of my packages come FedEx!"

Photos

When the guy taking your passport photo comes out and says, "I really need to retake your photo," and you wave your hand and say, "No, it's okay. It really doesn't matter," and he says, "No, I insist (pause) It is a matter of professional integrity."

Listening to him is a really, really good idea.

Clothes

Someone at work the other day made a comment about how I was so conservative. Huh? Not so much.

My son said, "Well, maybe she meant your clothing." It's possible...but really? I'm not a conservative dresser but a lazy dresser. I hate shopping. So I buy clothes to wear forever, and standing in front of my closet in the morning, my default questions become is it clean? Is it appropriate? Does it cover everything I need covered? Well, then...good enough.

Until recently, I shared an office with a friend. On some days, I would walk in and without even looking up she would deadpan, "These are not the clothes I was wearing yesterday." I'd say, "Good. This skirt is not the one I was wearing yesterday either."

Since we only were in the office (and office clothes) for a couple hours at most and rarely saw the same people two days in a row, we both got in the habit of rewearing pants, a skirt or, I must confess, an entire outfit just so we didn't have to think about it. You'd be amazed at how seldom anyone noticed. (Hey, we're middle-aged women: an almost invisible species under certain circumstances.)

Black! It goes with anything. Throw on a black pair of pants, a plain top, a bracelet or a necklace and out the door. But look in my closet: four pairs of black pants? Six black skirts? Yeah, not so exciting.

In fact, every single thing I own for work could be mixed, matched, and put on in the dark...just like my teenage sons' clothing. Gak!

Maybe I should go shopping. But, oh dear Lord, how I quail at the prospect. What the heck have they done with all the normal clothes? You know, the ones that don't make me look like I earn my living standing on a street corner or as if I am doddering? I'd like to look older than 13 while we're at it. And I want to buy something that costs less than my mortgage but more than my soda. I'd also like clothes without glitter or sequins or kittens. Things without stuff written on the ass or printed across my nearly non-existent chest. (Which...you know those pants with stuff written on the ass? Well, when you are walking up stairs? And happen to be a little overweight? Letters sort of, how should I phrase this, disappear as those pants climb up into your butt and your carefully chosen message no longer says what you think it does! Really, you might want to reconsider that sartorial choice.)

Quite frankly? The entire fashion industry is totally pissing me off. I have money, I want clothes, and there is next to nothing out there for me to wear! Except, of course, for the black pants and the plain tops. Bah!

Typhoid Coworker

Today someone came to my office, wanting me to look at a paper, to proofread, and check some documentation. Only problem? She was sick...not a little sick, but shouldn't have been out of bed sick.

I got her in and out of my office so fast she barely knew what had happened. Was the paper right? I'm not sure; but if it took any longer, I would have been shrieking, "Get your germ-laden, disease-ridden body out of here!"

Probably not acceptable office etiquette.

Hijacked

I just hijacked poor Panthergirl's comment section (over at http://thedogsbreakfast.blogspot.com/) with a long, long comment.

I couldn't help it! She had an entry about greyhounds! How could I resist?

I've got two (I had three but lost one two years ago after he had a heart attack. Did you know they have dog neurologists, cardiologists, and pneumonologists? Man, I did everything to try to save that dog and I still cry when I think about losing him!) and they are the best dogs e.v.e.r.!

Okay, now I am going to have to figure out how to put a picture of them on here!