Hair Today/Hair Tomorrow

I have come to the conclusion that hair is more important than anyone realizes. It is something we all have to deal with everyday; or, in the case of the chrome dome (by choice or not) have had to deal with.

You have to wash it, condition it, comb it, brush it, style it, and dry it. Some of us get it cut every six weeks, others get it colored every two months (something I would know nothing about), and rug rats not only put gum in it, but cut their own, (and each other's), before the adult in the room has had a chance to put the scissors away after clipping coupons.

There are so many decisions to be made about one's hair: wear it short, keep it long, straighten it, or let it go natural. Every morning you make a choice whether to braid it or tie it in a pony tail, or just let it hang free.

There are hairstyles for everything from how you feel, what you're wearing, and where you are going. To that list, I'd like to add: how people treat you. For example, stop in at Wally World after a workout with most of your hair in a messy ponytail and approach the manager about why there are no Hannah Montana lunchboxes on the shelf. He'll call three neighboring stores to see if he can get one for you by tomorrow (and he'll pick it up on his way home from work today). The next day, walk up to that same manager in your Sunday best to inquire why there is none of the soft toilet paper anywhere in the store, and he'll tell you to come back on Thursday after the delivery truck has been here. This may give you some pause as to why "messy" me was treated better that "well groomed" me. For your answer, you only have to look around and realize the store you are in (and the typical clientele of that store). In all fairness, the reverse would happen if you walked into a Niemen Marcus after a workout with your hair looking like a rat's nest; actually, you might not even get out of the revolving door.

Another hair experience occurred to me the other day when I ran out to the local ice cream store and the ice cream scooper behind the counter wouldn't take my coupons. I was getting nowhere as I questioned her explanation ("we don’t honor those here"), even though they clearly stated the location's address on the coupon. Giving up in exasperation, I paid for the ice cream cone and went on my way. The next day I stopped at the same store (I happen to like ice cream cones). As I fumbled for cash, the (this time, male) employee on duty saw my coupons and asked if I would like to use them. I promptly handed them over as payment. Thinking back to the previous day, I wondered if my appearance (hair tied in a knot) affected the attitude the girl working that day felt toward me. If so, it's true what they say about the difference a day makes; because, today I had a kick-ass hair-day and an employee with good customer service on his mind.

Or was it even my hair that was on his mind.

Borrowed Identity

At one time or another, everyone gets mistaken for someone else. The typical "Hey, don't I know you?" has become the standard pickup line in a bar; a variation on that would be: "you look familiar....." or "don't I know you from......". Depending on your mood, these lines can be quite annoying. If the level of desperation is high, you might not wait until closing time to go home.

There are times when your appearance is screaming: "I work here! Ask me something, anything!" If this is not to your liking, don't wear a goofy hat in an amusement park or a bright colored tee shirt in a hardware store. If I'm not in a hurry and am in a playful mood, I've been known to be the person they think I am. My girlfriend in the goofy hat at the amusement park didn't know what to say when a woman in need of a restroom didn't believe she was not a park employee. My first reaction would have been to direct the woman doing the pee-pee dance to the other end of the park near the merry-go-round (and quickly disappear into the crowd). I've been in the hardware store and heard "can you help me?" three times before it dawned on me the other customer thought I was a rude employee. After I saw his dirty look, my response was, "I'll try"; little did he know that's when my playfulness kicked in. I skimmed the sale paper he shoved at me and told him we were out of Spackle; not to worry though chewing gum works just as good and is much cheaper. If he had a problem with gum and his dentures ("sorry, I thought......") maybe he could use some of his grandchild's play dough ("ohhhh, that's your daughter....."). As I quickly took my leave of the store I noticed my fellow shopper at the service desk asking for the manger.

Keeping the Lid on Household Mysteries

Every man, women and child at one time or another has experienced the mystery of the missing sock at least once in their lifetime; the child will have many more times of this mystery to come. Let me begin with the obvious: the sock never made it to the washing machine. Found behind the hamper, its mate will sit alone on the dryer, dresser or in a drawer until the next load of darks is washed when they will be joined in a ball once again. Other scenarios include being stuck in a leg of jeans, or getting kicked under the washer during the sorting process. The mate will usually get thrown out after a couple of months when all hope of reuniting the pair has been lost. What usually will happen next, a nickel rolls under the dryer and you'll spend 10 minutes with a yard stick swiping the floor underneath; then a flood of emotion will overcome you. Beginning with anger when you discover a receipt for that now unreturnable VCR tape re-winder that you never wanted in the first place. Followed by confusion as to how uncooked macaroni got under there, then the joy that you found a quarter! The warm sentimental moment as you blow dust from a few Lego pieces is replaced by frustration when you realize you're back to square one with one sock again. You reach acceptance when you throw that one out, too and finally satisfaction knowing the pair will be reunited at the landfill.

The missing sock has been known to turn up in the bed sheets. This scenario can be easily avoided if the sorting is done properly; or, more likely, the wash day helper doesn't throw everything together and doesn't forget to use fabric softener. The most fun scenario (as long as it happens to someone else) is the sock-stuck-to- the- back-of-a- sweater; again it's that helper that didn't use the dryer sheet.

This brings me to another oddball mystery if you will; the missing storage container lid (or in some cases, the missing container). When the children were just Little Kiddles, the only cabinet without a childproof lock was where the Tupperware was stored. Many-a-day, one or more of them would stay quietly occupied for about a half hour playing with plastic containers (not much time in the grownup world but thirty minutes without a toddler needing attention can seem endless). Once those children no longer found it fun to stack the mixing bowls, they moved onto building blocks and Legos. They soon learned to throw these things at each other or balance them on a sleeping dog; years later those Legos would be found under the dryer with a dusty sock. That was a nice trip down Memory Lane; now back to the issue at hand: the missing lids. There's a variety of reasons to have lidless containers. Unlike socks, lids don't get lost in the bed sheets or stuck to the back of a sweater; they do get tossed out with the moldy leftovers, warped in the dishwasher and just thrown out because you've forgotten the bottom has been sitting under a leaky pipe in the guest bathroom for the past two months.

While the lone sock eventually gets reunited via the garbage truck, the lidless bowl stays put only to make life a bit more difficult. The current leftovers that fill a bowl are waiting their turn to get forgotten in the back of the fridge. As they continue their wait, the search for a cover goes on until those leftovers are transferred to a much larger bowl or two smaller bowls, both taking up unnecessary space in an already packed refrigerator. That lidless bowl will be washed and put back in the cabinet, only to do it all over again the next day.

There are other household mysteries I may never live long enough to solve: First - why do dishes end up in the sink when the dishwasher is right next to it? Second - Why is only unloading a dishwasher considered next to torture? Back-in-the-day, all dishes had to be manually washed, dried, and put away after each meal.

Oh wait, there are a few more mysteries: Are shoes supposed to accumulate at the back door? And why are slipper socks in the mix? Why does the new roll of toilet paper sit on the sink while the holder remains empty (this also can apply to the paper towel roll in the kitchen)? Why not just finish the orange juice rather than let it sit with a sip left in it? I'm no Sherlock Holmes; there are some things that should be left to ponder, to talk about over dinner. These things tend to keep life quirky. To keep the peace, I'll just put a sock in it!

To Teach or Preach? A Nagging Question

Everyone has been in a situation at one time or another where the expression: Those who can, do; those who can't, teach. It has something to do with practical and applied knowledge. There are some situations where the this phrase should be rephrased: Those who can do; those who can't, preach.
Some of the things I can do and teach or preach: sew on a button, scramble eggs without getting them stuck to the pan, fold and put away clothes without wrinkles (that's a teach/preach ), the proper way to load the dishwasher ( a definite preach!) just to name a few.
Things I can teach but can't do: the double knot on a shoe. The kids' shoes stay neatly tied; I on the other hand, have been known to stop during a walk to retie my own. Drive stick shift; it's been rather difficult for me to get the hang of simultaneously using the clutch, accelerating, shifting all the while keeping the car from hopping down the street before dying out; but my son got the hang of it after a few instructions from me. My dream of driving that little red sports car will never be realized. Car repair is something I know absolutely nothing about, but I do know that if the engine needs looking at there is no need to take a hammer along.
All this talk about cars brings me to the ultimate teach/preach situation: the teenager learning to drive. The day the youngest daughter finished the classroom part of driving lessons we headed to the DMV for the learner's permit. Once she had that in her hot little hand she slipped behind the wheel of my car. I should mention here that my car was just four weeks old. We headed to a parking lot for her first lesson. That would seem to be the safest place to put into action what was taught from a book....ya think? I didn't realize what is in a parking lot. For one, there were the parked cars; then I noticed light poles, a mailbox, and a bike rack. Right in the middle of the lot was an island of trees and shrubs; and more parked cars. Did I mention my car was new and still had the sticker info on the back window? I was pretty calm when the car lurched forward then screeched to a halt and we had only left the parking stall. After five minutes of that we switched positions and I drove home. She slammed the car door, stomped her foot , and cried, "I'm never going to drive with you again!", went into the house and slammed that door, too. Little did she know that we would do this again tomorrow.
I often wondered how many parents have had to force their teenager to get behind the wheel. I couldn't let her insecurity (or my teaching skills) get in the way. This second day was proving to be a repeat of the first. I have to admit she didn't believe that my clutching the door handle ("do you think that instills confidence ?" ) or whispering, "omigod" under my breath ("if you're going to swear I'm not driving") was because my life was flashing before my eyes. I must confess that I may have overacted a bit because at this point we hadn't even left the driveway. I promised to try to relax and not be so....um.... vocal. It must have worked because in about a week she was asking if I needed to get anything from the store and she'd be happy to drive.......at 10:00pm!
Behind-the-wheel was going along great. The test for her license was scheduled for her sixteenth birthday. The plan was to leave school and not to tell anyone. When the big day arrived we were in the middle of an unbelievable snow storm. There was so much snow coming down school was cancelled for the day. The DMV didn't cancel tests and we arrived as planned. She passed with flying colors; the only negative comments against her were that she didn't warm up the car while scraping snow off the windshield. It seems the tester didn't like getting into a cold car.
Now she is driving everywhere; on the highway, several counties away, places her sisters would never have dreamed of going as new drivers. She has become a good driver (must be that great teacher she had). After several months it was time to get this girl a vehicle of her own. I was getting tired of driving her to and from school and she had a job now; there was insurance to be paid. I also didn't like being forced to stay home even if I had nowhere to go because she had my car.
The other day we had a few errands to run and I usually do the driving but suggested she drive this time. After we left the third store she asked if I'd like to drive her car. It's a thirteen year old Buick Regal. It must have been really something back-in- the- day because it still is pretty nice; although there is no CD player or cup holders there are still a lot of upgraded features. She is very proud of her car and wanted to show it off to me.
I slipped behind the wheel adjusted the seat and was ready to go. I had no idea what I was in for. My car doesn't have much "play" in the steering wheel and was immediately told to stop "playing" with her steering wheel. When I came to the stop light I was glad I had on my seat belt, "can you stop a little easier? You could cause whiplash!" As I pulled into traffic I learned that you're not supposed to cross the solid white lines and are expected to always use the directionals, "even if there isn't a car behind you." I thought I was saving the life of the little light bulb. When I switched lanes in the intersection I was reminded that the rule says you shouldn't do that. My comment: "you mean there are rules for this?" was not taken in the spirit it was said. When we reached the parking lot of our next destination I was yelled at for driving "helter-skelter" (sounds like something I must have said to her during the "teaching" phase). I guess I'm just not up- to- speed; it's those darn "rules of the road"! I got out of the car, slammed the door, stomped my foot and cried, "I'm never going to drive with you again!". She tried to hide it, but I could see the smile on her face as I gave her the keys. We did our shopping and then went out for ice cream. My daughter did the driving.

Apple Slices Sound Good About Now

I've been in situations where things are not going as I would expect and I just let out my feelings. Probably not the coolest thing to do; you know, the sales clerk that won't return an item without a receipt even though the tags are still attached or the driver in the next lane that drives so slow making it impossible for you to pass. I suppose I've even uttered that four letter word and tossed in a hand gesture or two when I felt the times was right. After either getting my way or still making a scene I've found myself somewhat remorseful for my actions and have decided it was time to change my ways. Before you go patting me on the back or giving me the high-five let it be known the intention remains the same it's just the words that I'm changing.
My plan is to communicate my fascination, displeasure or disgust without the object of my disdain being aware of the fact. "Frickin" or "fudge" is now accepted as a softer version of the real F-word; everyone between the ages of 4 and 104 knows what you're really saying. So I've decide to try my hand at complicating the act of communicating.
Did you know you can smile and say "idiot" without moving your lips? Try it. See, it's easy and it comes in handy at times; the times are when you are having to deal, with an idiot. There are other times when a smile and unmovable lips will not do. You're in a hurry, spotting the shortest checkout line, you rush past the old guy breathing with an oxygen tank and nearly trip over a toddler pushing her own stroller just in time to see the clerk put up the "This Lane Closed" sign. "Aw Sugar!" is too close to the real thing and there is a toddler present. I now prefer, "Apple Slices!" "Darn it" is too commonplace, I'm beginning to like the sound of "Donuts!"
Let's get creative. Everyone knows OMG is omigod, but do they know over my gardenia? You may to utter a few more syllables but you've got them thinking. "Falsify" could be the substitute for the proverbial you-know-what word, and "Brown Shoes" can be the new BS. Ok, now you've got the idea. Crack open your Funk & Wagnalls and get started confusing everyone.

Call Me On the Texting Machine

Although typing doesn't make me fall asleep at my desk, I sometimes will type words in my head to help me fall asleep. It's kind of like typing with your eyes, but they have to be closed.
After all this time I have just noticed that the left hand has most of the letters on the keyboard; and they are the quality letters, you've got your a, e, r, s, and t. Most of those are "freebies" in the bonus round on Wheel of Fortune. Unless you use a lot of punctuation, I think the right hand is getting off easy. How often are brackets really used? Maybe an apostrophe, here and there. Quotations, sometimes. If you're not asking a lot of questions for those question marks, should you use two just for the fun of it??
"Back in the day" email used to be grammatically correct. As it has become the more common form of communication during a day, punctuation has fallen by the wayside. I really believe some young people don't even know what how to use a comma or period. The shift key is practically useless since capitalization has lost its appeal, even for names.

It seems just about everyone is using their cellphone to text. I guess as a parent I shouldn't complain, at least kids are reading and writing again. I have always considered a phone a device to use to talk to people recently I have stumbled over my own words and referred to it as a texting machine.

I personally don't text, but I do receive texts. Some of the lingo I know or can pretty much figure out: brb "be right back" , lol "laugh out loud", omg "oh my god", but it took me a minute to compute np "no problem". I was stumped when I saw nvm "never mind", ttyl, "talk to you later" should not be confused with ttly "totally", ik and jk "I know" and "just kidding" had me stumped.

I wanted to be in the loop so I went to an expert, the daughter. She gave me a tutorial in texting and here's what I learned?

hey 'sup nm...u? hw... super boring o tht sux ik... i h8 it

Now in English:
Hey, what's up? Not much, You? Homework, it's super boring Oh that's sucks I know I hate it

I am getting used to these shortcuts; so much so I've caught myself in text-talk. My coworkers look at me in confusion when I've thrown in an "Omg!" or "idk" "I don't know"

I suppose in the future the need for vowels, capital letters, and punctuation will all be a thing of the past, but then again so will I. Until then, adbb :) That would be "all done, bye bye" :) or (smile)