Friday Five, #7

1. Yesterday, I got stuck on the bridge in some sort of morning rush-hour traffic jam. Usually bridges don’t bother me but I had a slight panic attack this time. My heart was racing, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I had to close my eyes and will myself to calm down. That has never happened before. I think the MN bridge collapse, how high the river is, and David’s comment yesterday on one of his Flickr pics that “…the river is much more dangerous to navigate right now” all combined into my head as AAAGH! I hope that doesn’t happen again — I didn’t like it.

2. I thought of a way to smooth things over with my Dad after I tell him I’m a vegetarian. I can let him know that I’ve given up shopping at Wal-Mart. If that doesn’t get me back in his good graces, nothing will. I know I shouldn’t shop there, especially being the daughter of a small town grocery store owner, the likes of which Wal-Mart likes to chew up and spit out on its quest for global domination, and until I moved here, I didn’t. But around here, there aren’t a lot of choices and doggone it, Wal-Mart is convenient. But no more. The evil W will not see anymore of my hard earned dollars.

3. I still haven’t seen the new neighbors but now I know they’re there. I came home last night and the garage door was open. And there was a little pink bicycle in there! A child lives next door to me! A girl child of little pink bicycle age, whatever that may be. We haven’t had a child on this block since…well, never. My first thought? Oh how cute! There’s a little girl living next door and maybe her mom and I will become friends and I can babysit and we’ll play tea party and dress up and go to the park and …and My second thought? Crap! Does this mean I have to buy Halloween candy now?

4. One more niece update: She still has pneumonia. Wednesday was her first day back to school. She lasted all of 2 hours. On Thursday, she lasted most of the morning. The doctor took more chest x-rays this week and isn’t happy about her progress but said there really isn’t much to do for her now. She just has to rest and try to let her body recover. Poor little thing.

5. My nephew is rocking the high school. He’s running for class president and thinks he’ll win because (in his words) everybody loves him, especially the girls. He cracks me up. Yesterday in one of his classes they were talking about careers and how many different possibilities there are. All the kids were supposed to mention one person in their family who they think has a pretty cool job. Guess who he mentioned? Yep, his cool Aunt Debra — who apparently builds dozers and excavators. Wow, I AM cool! But only if cool means not very clear or descriptive when I talk about my job!

If you’re expecting a point to this, move along

Oh good gawd, The Devil Wears Prada is on again. Warn me before I start channel surfing, okay? Now I’ve caught a glimpse of Adrian Grenier and Stanley Tucci and I’m stuck, watching it again for the what? — seventh time in the last month? I can NOT be that lame.

Oh, who am I kidding? I AM that lame.

But anyway, last night I had a volunteer training meeting to attend. Most of them are held during the day so when they actually schedule one in the evening, I do my best to get there. Even when they come at the end of very, very bad days. Very, very bad and long days. But I guess if I waited for training to occur in the evening and after a good day, I would never learn anything, so I suck it up.

This time our meeting had a theme — “Hawaiian Luau”. The food wasn’t very luau-ish (they did have fresh pineapple) but there were plenty of paper leis, flowers, and tiny little drink umbrellas tossed around. At the end of the evening, we each got to bring home one of the little pots of chrysanthemums (we were supposed to imagine they were orchids or some other tropical bloom that costs way too much for a non-profit to use for decoration) so now I have a bright yellow pot of carnationy goodness on my nightstand. Flowers make me happy.

And, oh yeah, we got trained on some stuff.

After the meeting I needed to stop by one of the area retailers to pick up yet another wedding gift. (How can it be that every girlfriend I have is getting married and yet every guy I know is already married? That isn’t fair on any level. There is NO ONE left to play with.)

Anyway, I was on the escalator and thinking how very tired I was and how very inconsiderate it was for this friend to need a wedding gift on a night when I was so tired and calculating how many minutes it would be before I got to go to bed, if I made all the green lights and…crap, I still had to stop at the grocery store. So I had to start the math all over again and I hate that. It made me even more tired and agitated.

So I threw a shoe.

Apparently I was smacking my foot against the edge of the escalator step (probably counting out the minutes like Mr. Ed) when my shoe (a cute little slip-on sandal) decided enough was enough and flew off my foot, bounced down the remainder of the escalator steps and waited, bump bump bumping into the little opening at the bottom that the escalator slides into.

I will bet you probably haven’t thought about how incredibly noisy a cute little hard-soled sandal can be as it is smacking itself against every hard surface available on a moving escalator, careening towards the landing. But it is. Especially when it is after 8 PM on a Wednesday and the store is empty, except for the four other people who are also shopping in the housewares section and get to witness the whole debacle.

Mighty loud indeed.

I have no real point to this story, as if I have a point to anything I say…but I guess that just pretty much summed up my day. A very bad, tiring day, a fake luau, and shoeless shopping.

And I got trained on some stuff.

Is Emily Post in the house?

Is there such a thing as blog etiquette? I did a quick Google search on it and only found articles related to cursing. That really didn’t help me. But in case you were wondering, it is only okay to curse in a comment if the blog owner curses on a regular basis. And, now you know.

I’m trying to find answers to the following:

1 – What is the correct way to respond to comments on your blog? Should you reply via email or in the comments section? I did find something that said you should respond in the comments section if a) your answer would benefit the rest of your readers, b) it would foster more comments, or c) it is a question that many people are asking. Use email if it is a more private question between reader and viewer. But do you even have to respond? Do you?

Personally, I send an email to anyone who is a first-time commenter. I acknowledge their comment and thank them for stopping by. Nothing fancy, just friendly. Other than that, I comment if I think something needs cleared up or if I have time. Neither of which happens often. Does this offend people? I have no idea. What do you think? What do you do?

2 – I was completely snubbed by another blogger and I’m not sure whether or not to get upset by it. I commented on a blog post and the comment was ‘held for moderation’. But it is now a week later and my comment still hasn’t been published. Comments since mine have been published but not mine. I didn’t say anything offensive (just basically a “yeah, I know how you feel” kind of thing) so I don’t know if it was just because the blogger didn’t know me or just decided I wasn’t worth the effort. But I have to say, I’m a little miffed. And I won’t be commenting over there again. Has this ever happened to you?

3 – Another blogger wrote a very offensive post this week, where fun was made of a less-fortunate group of people. Basically said “they had it coming”. I was furious but didn’t comment. I just unsubscribed from this particular person’s RSS feed and vowed never to return. Should I have said something? I thought about it but this person seems to have a pretty black-and-white view of the world and I don’t think a random comment would have changed anything. I don’t know…what would you have done?

So help me, blog buds, are there ‘rules’ for this sort of thing?

And it just gets better

I returned to work yesterday to learn that I have been assigned to a new project. A bigger, more complex, even more time-consuming project than the one I’m currently on — which is 10 months in and still going.

Oh no, the current one isn’t going away. Don’t be ludicrous.

This is just more. More work. Because the one thing missing from my job was more work.

This is brilliant.

I’m not complaining. Busy, busier…the distinction is negligible really. This project will be a good thing for my career, such that it is, and that’s a good thing. And it has (finally) been recognized that I am only one person and could use some help. Contrary to popular opinion, one person can’t do everything.

Recognized but not actualized. One step at a time, I guess.

Fireworks at Christmas

Hello, I’m a vegetarian.

I wouldn’t care for that meat dish. I’m a vegetarian.

No, thanks, I don’t eat anything with a face.

Don’t mind me, I’m just practicing. I have given up meat in the past few weeks and in a few months, I’m going to see my family and have to explain why I don’t want to share in the Thanksgiving turkey or the Christmas ham or the prime rib. Note to self: Probably best not to mention the “anything with a face” line. God forbid they think I’m trying to ‘convert’ the children.

They are so going to freak out.

My brother-in-law has managed a corporate hog farm for the past 20 years. And as you may have heard, those little piggies do go to market. My step-father is an avid hunter and fisherman. He brings home everything from trout to goose to bear. My dad owns a couple of grocery stores and is a butcher. He gives away packages of beef in Christmas stockings, for crying out loud.

In other words, Carnivores R Us. Being a vegetarian flies in the face of everything we hold most sacred. Like Cardinals baseball. Or Branson, Missouri.

I am so out of the wills.

This will be the second time I’ve attempted vegetarianism. The first time was about 10 years ago when a few of my girlfriends and I thought it would be fun to think of completely bizarre New Year’s Resolutions and have to stick to them for a year. We put all our crazy notions in a bowl and took turns picking one out. I ended up being a vegetarian and Jill couldn’t shave her legs. I can’t remember what Jackie ended up with. But I do remember the vegetarian thing was the easiest (and least embarrassing) by far. (Jill loved the public swimming pool and those legs were pretty Sasquatchey by July, let me tell you.)

So, I gave up meat for a year and loved it. I felt better, ate healthier, and didn’t miss it at all. But my family hated it. They tried to sabotage my efforts at every turn. I finally just stopped seeing them for the remainder of the year. And once I had fulfilled my commitment, it didn’t take me long to go back to my old carnivorous ways just to GET THEM OFF MY BACK.

But now, I’m older and I don’t listen to them like I used to. In fact, I revel in the many ways I differ from my family, most days. Little things like being tolerant and nonjudgmental and ‘live and let live’ come to mind here*.

I hope they’ve matured a little over the decade too and can accept this without making too much of a fuss. But if not, I’ll think of something to draw their attention away from the whole not-eating-meat thing.

Like tell them I’m a Democrat.

Yeah, that should do it.

* I’m talking primarily about my father’s side of the family here, where conformity is the only acceptable behavior. Mom and her brood won’t care either way — except to try to force feed me more potatoes and rolls and pie. Because you know, if there is no meat on your plate, you must be starving.