Soul Thumping

I Remember When...My Incident with Officer O'Malley

I'm not a bad person.  I've done some incredibly mindless things in my lifetime (see my previous post on imbecilic things I've done...except for my mom, she isn't allowed to read it), and I know I will certainly be involved in many more unenlightened enterprises before I leave my current body and come back as a slug.

Some of the things I've done or the situations I've gotten myself into (or found myself in purely by accident) are regrettable, and some just make me laugh, and there are those that are regrettable and laughable at the same time.  At times, when I'm writing or sewing, and my creative juices are screaming, memories of certain, let's say, "experiences" insert themselves into my brain.  I either laugh out loud, shudder at the thought, or say to myself, simply "Oh Dear" and blank out, but then I feel the urge to confess.  Write it all down.  This is one of those times, if you haven't realized that by now, so hang on.

I moved from Raleigh to the big city of Philadelphia in 1996 at the silly age of 27.  I immediately became best friends with one of my co-workers, and I'll call him "Mitch."  Mitch taught me the city, where to go, where not to go, etc., and we were best buddies.  One Saturday night I drove us to our favorite bar for a few beers.  It was around 2am when we left the bar, and I was going to drop Mitch off at his house.  I was driving down Pine Street, which at some points is extremely narrow, and wasn't well lit then (still isn't). 

There was a car behind us, and as he was trying to pass me, Mitch yelled to me, "It's time you drove like a true Philly girl.  DO NOT let this car pass you."  Fueled at the thought of becoming a real live Philly gal, or just one too many beers, my foot pushed the gas pedal in and the chase was on.  I held my own for a few blocks, but the car took the lead on my left side then we both had to stop at a red light.  When the light turned green, I tried to regain my lead, but just as I was ready to pass him, we noticed a car parked on the street, and there was no avoiding it.

OK, I side-swiped the heck out of that car, and I'm not proud.  I would have stopped and left a note (it was 2am) with my information, but the Philly girl in me had just been established and Mitch screamed, "Keep going, keep going, a saw a police car back there."

I won't go through the rest of the tedious details, but I dropped Mitch safely off at his house, and made it back to my apartment without further incident.

The next afternoon, Mitch and I were going to an outdoor concert and this time he was picking me up.  The intercom buzzed and, thinking it was Mitch, I accepted the call and this is how the conversation went:

ME:  "Hello."

VOICE ON THE INTERCOM:  "Hello, am I speaking with Ms. Slaven?"

ME: (a little annoyed, because it wasn't Mitch and Mitch was already late) "Yes."

VOICE ON THE INTERCOM:  "Ms. Slaven, this is Officer O'Malley with the Philadelphia City Police Department.  I need to speak with you about a hit and run accident that occurred early this morning."

ME:

VOICE ON THE INTERCOM:  "Hello, Ms. Slaven?"

ME: (feeling for the chair at my desk to steady myself because my knees were about to buckle)

VOICE ON THE INTERCOM:  "Ms. Slaven, I'm going to need you to let me in so I can speak with you."

ME:  (knees did buckle, now laying on the floor, blood had left my head...hell, the blood had left the building!)

VOICE ON THE INTERCOM:  (laughing like a hyena) "It's me, Mitch.  Ha ha.  Let me in!"

 

...First and last time I ever side swiped a car...

 

--Fortuitous Philly Girl Observer

 

Chronic Bitchface! I Too Suffer From this Affliction and HAVE to Share this!

At last I have a name from my affliction (wait, one of my many afflictions).  I have to share this print from Kris Atomic! This truly happened to me today, I'm not kidding, and actually happens on a semi-regular (whatever that means) basis.

On my way to my car from my office this afternoon, I was in deep thought when a guy passed me and said, "Wow, why so upset.  Cheer up!"  I know he didn't mean it in an offensive way, but he doesn't realize that I always have a bitchface, even when I'm in a good mood!

I'm not complaining or whining about it though.  If I pass people who looked pissed off at the world, I automatically think they are pissed off at the world and could use some cheering up.  They probably just suffer from bitchface like I do! : )

 

--Fortuitous Observer

 

 

3 Things That Would Sell Rather Well (Don't You Think?)

Musings...these things popped into my head (not all at once, scattered throughout the day) and I had to jot them down.  I believe there is a market for these items/services out there: 

1.  Crackcakes - like cupcakes, but with, well you know, crack in the batter instead of eggs.  I would accomplish much more during the day and probably have a better attitude.  Of course, the crackcakes would have to be low-fat and taste just as yummy as a cupcake.

2.  Pay someone to work out for you - if this were possible, I would sell my car, my cats, my house, my plasma, and Poseidon to pay for the cost of having someone go to the gym for me (I would still run on the weekends just because I like to run), so I could maintain my weight and muscle tone without having to go to the gym myself.  I'm not lazy, it's just difficult to keep finding the motivation to work out and this would be the perfect cure!

3.  A "Stupid People Evaporation Wand" - you know you want one as badly as I want one.  Owning one of these little puppies would make daily life more bearable.  By the end of the first week, half of the population of Raleigh would vanish.  I have to stop thinking about this now because I'm so excited at the thought of this that when I come back down to reality land, I'm going to be sorely disappointed that the Stupid People Evaporation Wand hasn't been invented yet : (   A girl can dream, can't she?

 

--Fortuitous Observer

The Christmas Panda!

This afternoon I was teeming with the grumpies, and I mean bad.  I'm not sure why, I suppose because of traffic, annoying stupidpods (I made that up actually, it's my new term for morons), and the fact that I had several errands to run that weren't going to run themselves, and I wasn't feeling well.  That is enough, in my estimation, to cause the grumpies.  Completely justified.

My last errand involved going back to the UPS Shipping store for the 10th time in the past week (I can't avoid hyperbole sometimes...ok, most times).  I had to stand in line forever (there I go again), but I managed to keep my composure.  The folks there are so nice, but not the sharpest tools in the proverbial shed.  Anyway, by the time I got out of the store, and headed to my car in the parking lot, I was tired, and still grumpy.  I looked up just in time to see that I was heading into the direct path of a speeding stupidpod (yeah, I got to use it twice already).  It wasn't his fault, it was mine because I wasn't paying attention (I guess I'm the stupidpod).

When I got back to my car, unscathed, I was mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted.  I pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to suburbia.  Before I turned onto my street, what to my wondering eyes should appear?  A large panda (I know it was really just a person in a panda suit) be-bopping down the sidewalk.  The panda had a backpack on, heading toward the bus stop.  At first I thought I was having a Phish show flashback, but I wasn't!  It was a panda, and it was a miracle panda because I found myself smiling!  My grumpies have now gone away.  Thank you Christmas panda, thank you!

--Fortuitous Observer

 

The Little People Room vs. Dry Hair

Earlier this week I asked Poseidon if I should move my hair dryer into the guest bathroom so that we wouldn't be in each others way in our bathroom while we get ready for work.  He said no, but I could move it into the Little People Room...

I'll explain.  In one of our spare bedrooms (we call it the "Green Room" because the walls are painted dark green), there is a small door, about 4 feet in height, that leads to a small attic over the study.  When I first bought the house and my brother was helping me move in, he christened it "The Little People Room" and began to creep me out by telling me little people live in that room and come out at night when everyone is asleep.  So, I avoid The Little People Room and Poseidon knows it disturbs me (by the way, I have yet to see any little people in the house, or even hear little people in the house, nonetheless, I'm still unnerved by the thought of little leprechauns running around at night).

Anyway, when Poseidon suggested I move my hair dryer into the Little People Room, I said, "No!"  Trying to sound brave, I explained that I couldn't possibly move the dryer into the Little People Room because there is no mirror.  Of course, he quickly pointed out that he could put one in there.  I then decided to play along with his little game, telling him that I would be happy to move the hair dryer in there, and that I would make friends with the Little People, and they would eventually make me their queen.

I didn't stop there.  After they make me their queen, I will lead them on a revolt against the tyranny of the Big People (meaning Poseidon) and we would take over the house and it would be Poseidon imprisoned in the Little People Room -- which we would promptly rename the "Big People Room."

I was really getting into this power trip when Poseidon put a damper on my imaginative story.  He said, "What happens after you lead them on the revolt and they no longer need you?"

Foreseeing that I will end up in the Little People Room anyway, I'll be mirror shopping today so I can see to dry my hair...

 

--Her Majesty, Fortuitous Observer

Today I am Switzerland!

It may just be my overactive imagination, but it seemed like the "kill or be killed" mentality prevailed during the commute into work this morning.    I tried to take the Swiss approach by keeping my head and eyes straight ahead, ignoring all idiots as they tried to out-drive and overtake each other, not wanting to take sides with any of the road rage rejects.  I arrived safely at work and proceeded to mediate for a few minutes with a few mental ohms.  If I had valium with me, I swear I'd pop a few in time for the evening commute home, but I don't, so I'll think happy thoughts and hum the Switzerland national anthem.

--Fortuitous Observer

Are Gender-specific Bathrooms too Confusing?

Apparently they are for Poseidon.  Last night we went out for dinner and dancing, and after dinner, he went to use the restroom at the restaurant (say that 10 times fast).  He was gone for a while, then I had to go to the restroom, and when I came out, he still wasn't back.  A couple of minutes later, he strolls back to the table, and as we walk out of the restaurant, he confesses to me that he had accidentally gone into the women's restroom instead of the men's room.  He only had 1 pint of Guinness.

He didn't get "caught" by any women, and this means we were in the restroom at the same time.  The funny part of this story isn't that Poseidon went into the wrong restroom (OK, it is funny, and I had a good laugh at his expense).  The funny part is that our waitress was in the stall next to me (I saw her walk in the restroom right before I did), and she did a line of cocaine while in there.  How do I know?  She was standing up (I could see her feet under the stall), facing the wall, cutting the line on the back of the toilet with an object making a clinking sound (she should have chosen something less metallic), then she snorted it quite loudly.  This phases me not; it only explains why our orders were mixed up.  Had she done the cocaine before we arrived, we may have had better service : )

Happy 4th of July everyone!

--Star Spangled Fortuitous Observer

A Girl and Her Nail Polish

This is going to be a short rant.  I bought some nail polish last week and I'm trying it for the first time and it sucks!  I didn't used to be so "girlie" about these things, but the older I get the more demanding I become and I expect perfection when it comes to nail polish damn it!

I bought a new bottle at Sephora, one of my favorite stores on the planet, and it is an "O.P.I. for Sephora" polish.  I love O.P.I. and I expected better quality than this.

Anyway, Poseidon was sitting next to me while I was painting (make that trying to paint) my toe nails, and the polish just didn't go on well at all.  I exclaimed, "This polish is pissing me off!"  Poseidon found this delightfully funny and suggested I blog about the trials of a girl and her polish.

There.  I guess I have.

--Fortuitous Observer

Tomorrow Isn't Even Here Yet, But I'm Already Annoyed

Why?  I have no idea why...

A Man's First Trip to a Makeup Store

Every year I go through my makeup drawer (ok, drawers, I have multiple) and weed out the scads, heaps and gobs of unused lipsticks, limp dirty blush brushes, and ridiculous eyeshadow palettes that I was never going to wear anyway (it must have been my alter-ego Fuchsia who told me it was ok to buy that chartreuse glitter eyeshadow).  I throw out everything that is a year old (or in some cases, more than 5 years old).  I toss it, make a list of what I need to buy this year, and then next year I go through the entire process again.  Weed, throw, list, buy, weed, throw, list, buy, and so on.

I get ever so excited thinking about what I'm going to buy, what new things I want to try, how I'm going to keep it under a million bucks, etc.  I start out being sensible (and that goes directly out the window without passing Go), thinking only of earth tones and natural vegetable or mineral-based products, no testing on animals!  Humans, ok, but not defenseless bunnies and rats (I had a pet rat once so I'm a bit sensitive to the rights of rodents).  This year was no exception.  After purging everything that was old, possibly moldy, or just plain hideous (like the bright orange blush), I was finished.  I sat down, made my list and was ready to go to Sephora and make my purchases.

This year, Zeus asked if he could go (I think it is cool that he asksif he can go), and I said, "Sure, if you don't think you will be bored and rush me through the process."  I take makeup buying very seriously.  I wasn't always so "girly," really up until a couple of years ago I didn't care so much about makeup.  I suppose that is one more thing that happens when one turns 40...vanity.  Anyway, you see, I can spend hours, and I mean actual hours, in Sephora stores and I don't want to be hurried.  I want to take my time and savor every eye-popping color and smell.  There are so many bright goodies and sparkly powders to see.  It makes me want to try out each and every one!  Zeus seemed up for the challenge, so I let him tag along.

As soon as Zeus and I step foot in the store, I let go of his hand and immediately head toward the first shiny tacky thing that catches my eye, which happened to be Urban Decay's shiny yellow eyeshadow.  I don't wear yellow eyeshadow but it was like crack for the optical nerve and I headed straight for the tiny little pot of gold (don't worry, I didn't buy it).

Zeus reminded me of a deer caught in headlights.  He stood still for a few seconds and followed me around.  He was mesmerized.  I can understand, to a man, a store dedicated to makeup must be such an alien, decadent, oh wait, stupid concept.  I think he may actually have thought he was dreaming the entire trip.

He followed me in a stupor as I grabbed the items on my list, and of course, items that were not on my list.  After about 30 minutes, I had everything I came in for, including crap I didn't need and probably won't wear.  Zeus was drawn to a shiny jar of teal sparkly eye-shadow and he wanted me to own it!  He was so hooked on this that he said Santa may get it for me for Christmas.

Before I checked out, Zeus spoke up and asked, "Why do I not see any Fire Engine Red eyeshadow?"  I told him we had already passed it a few aisles back and he thought I was kidding until I walked him back to the shelf displaying the red powder (along with deep dark blue, lime green, and more yellow, etc).  He was impressed I think!  Next to the bright red was a little tester pot of dark glittery purple.  He liked that purple and wanted me to try it on.

I finished my shopping and we walked hand-in-hand out of the mall to find some dinner, me in purple glitter eyeshadow and bright pink glitter blush, and Zeus with an expression on his face as though he had just spent two days on Mars (or in a coma).

--Fortuitous Observer