If you see me walking along staring at the ground I am not shy or depressed. I am looking for money.
There are people I have sympathy for who also irritate me. I think this feeling should be called empannoyance. Let’s use it in a sentence! “I feel bad that she’s sick but she’s being so demanding. She’s empannoying me.” Or: “They’re a small, struggling business that I’d like to help but it’s so empannoying that their customer service stinks.”
On whole I have really enjoyed the 2018 Olympics.. I missed Bob Costas and Scott Hamilton and only saw one Mary Carillo piece. (Did I just miss them somehow?? Despite watching a lot of Olympics – not all – I learned almost nothing about South Korea. There seemed to be far fewer “human interest” pieces.)
One thing I find a little disconcerting throughout – the way a child often does on encountering adults dressed up in costumes with animal heads at amusement parks or other venues – is the visual effect of the uniforms now worn in the various sports. It makes everyone look like they are visitors from another planet or possibly from the future. Have you seen the headgear on the snowboarders? Only figure skaters wear no protective gear when performing – if they crack their head on the ice or their partner accidentally slices their skin with a skating blade, oh well. It’s the only sport that is fully about creating an illusion, safety be damned. (If you have any interest here’s a recent article with old photos on changes in US winter uniforms over the years; apparently the snowboarder/astronaut look is inentional!)
In both winter and summer Olympics the TV viewer is sometimes shown a projected visual “line” onscreen in sports like speed skating and swimming indicating where the curreent leader or record holder was in their race. Watching these moving lines, which are so cool, made me think that if the actual race participants could see them TOO, like a carrot on a stick, I bet they’d move faster.
Have you bought a new pair of jeans recently? Maybe I’m out of the loop because I don’t typically buy new jeans, or necessarily familiar brands, but I bought a pair of Levi’s from a Ross store this winter and was taken aback by the tags inside.
Seeing all that reminded me of an old Jerry Seinfeld routine where he ridicules the thick book containing the check you’re sometimes handed in an upscale restaurant: “What is this, the story of the bill?” That’s what I thought on seeing all these tags: “What is this, the story of the jeans?”
Maybe if you’re industrious you could cut them all out and sew a little top to to go with your jeans.
I can’t be polygamous. I’m lucky if I like one person.
Hello, my name is Colette and I’m a Tomato Hoarder.
There’s a mall about two miles from me, one that’s been there a long time. It’s kind of run down and “mish mash” so far as its offerings. I go there from time to time mainly for specific things at specific stores. There is crime at this mall and I don’t feel particularly safe there. The vibe is just “wrong” in general. Every fourth or fifth person I see looks kind of sketchy. I’ve always noticed that too many people don’t appear to be there to shop.
Not too long ago an animated discussion about this mall occurred on the local community Facebook page. Some people felt the mall was unsafe but many took umbrage at that characterization and defended it. I just read the comments and stayed out of it. It did give me pause, though, was I judging the mall too harshly? Were my opinions about it in need of updating?
With that in mind I spend several hours shopping at the mall today. It was strange and exhausting. I did buy a few things, primarily food so it wasn’t a bust. My mind didn’t change though and I kind of felt the sign in the window of the multiplex theater said it all: