... I can always find something else to complain about. Today, it is affected speech carried out by born and bred Midwesterners. No, not speech impediments - lisps, stutters, or southern drawls. These are the affectations one adopts into their speech because you think they are nifty and make you sound smart, cool or worldly. Doing so, however, just makes you annoying to listen to. It is on par with the college sophomore who comes back from studying in England and asks what the American word for "the tube" is. Annoying. So, on with the grumpitude:
Affectation #1:
How do you say the word "false"? If you tell me it sounds like the word "waltz", you're an affected mess. Someone very high up in the organization I work for uses this one all the time and I want to throw a coffee cup at him every time he says it. True? Yes. Faltz? Not so much.
Affectation #2:
What is something that comes before something else? Is it a "prelude"? Perhaps, it is if you pronounce it like something in the neighborhood of "prey-lood". No where in the Midwest do we use the alternate pronunciation of "prell-ewed". Jesus, make it stop.
Affectation #3:
If you are from Bumfudge, Wisconsin and you pronounce the word rather as "rah-ther" or worse "rahth-er" I will smack you if you come within arms reach. Just a warning. Cut it out now.
Affectation #4:
I know Canadians are cute, but in Iowa there isn't a school teacher in the state that taught you to say the letter Z as "zed." Just never happened.
Perhaps one day, I'll blog about something important, but I don't see that coming in the next few weeks. Oh, and one more thing- the name of the town with the Mayo Clinic it Rochester- Rah-chester. Not Rod-chester. And the name of the suburb east of St. Paul is Woodbury- Wood-burry. Not Wood-berry spoken with a sing-song Minnesota accent. Good god, I need some sleep and an attitude adjustment. 'Night all.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Somewhere in Minnetonka...
...an angry mommy is telling all her friends what an asshole I am. Why? Let me tell you why.
This morning, I'm trying to find a parking spot in the Barnes & Noble / Target parking lot and there were precious few. So, I turned the corner into a new row and see not one but two spots, one each on either side of a mini-van. I see that all four doors are open. On one side is a 12 -13 year old girl assisting a younger sibling in to a car seat. On the other side, the mom is helping another child in to a car seat. No problem, I can wait for that. Shortly, mom is done and hops into the front seat, but doesn't close her door, blocking that side of the van.
Then, 12-13 year old daughter finishes with the car seat business, shuts the back door and proceeds to stand by the front seat where she starts very slowly picking french fries off her seat one by one, and dropping them gingerly into the parking lot. Meanwhile, mom still has her damn door open. So, I make a move to begin pulling in to the parking spot next to the daughter, thinking this might prompt her to pick up the pace or just sweep the fries on to the floor of the van (it was no prize, it could have been done), shut her door and let the nice man in the SUV have his parking spot. Oh no, daughter looks at me, then goes back to slowly picking french fries off her seat.
So, here's where it gets interesting. While the slow french fry picker is trying her damnedest to ignore me, I tap the horn. No, I did not lay on the horn, I tapped it to get the daughter's attention. She looked at me and I gave her a questioning look that communicated nicely "Can I have this spot now?" Well, that didn't go over well with mommy because mommy jumped out of her seat, rushed to my window and screamed "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! THERE ARE CHILDREN!!!" I calmly but firmly replied "Well, what is wrong is that you are taking up three parking spots between your van and your open doors and neither you or your daughter appear to be courteous enough to share the two that are not occupied by your van." Mommy then did the dumbest thing I've ever seen. She ran to her daughter's side, put her arm around her and looked at me as if to say "See the injury you've inflicted? Poor child." At this point, I shook my head, rolled my eyes at her and gave a low finger out of her eye sight, and took off to hunt for another parking spot, which I found eventually.
This only fueled my long standing opinion that many parents lose their minds at the first sight of their child wet and squirming from the womb and become over-indulgent nut bags for the next 30 -40 years. This is not all parents, mind you. In fact, most parents that I'm acquainted with would have told the slow french fry plucking daughter to hurry her ass up and get in the car and give the nice man his parking spot.
As someone who has chosen not to have children (it would ruin my hips), I am still able to appreciate and respect the desire of those who want children. I also understand completely that parenting is demanding. And of course I believe the children are our future. La la la. However, there are still a few ground rules for parents to follow around those who are not:
1. Your baby stroller does not have the right of way. It would be nice if you pushed it to the side when you stop to look at something in a store aisle or at the farmer's market.
2. When two mommies meet in an aisle, it is impolite to stop your baby strollers side by side and carry on a conversation lasting more than 4 seconds. You are in the way. Make a play date.
3. If I have covered all your duties at work while you are on maternity leave, you had better consider buying me a big damn gift or, at the VERY least, a nice thank you card with some Dairy Queen gift certificates tucked inside. Don't come back and critique my way of carrying on business in your absence. This makes you an asshole and the object of my scorn.
4. When eating out, don't let your darling little children run all over the restaurant and carry on as if it were your home. I don't care how cute they are. I don't want to see their toys, hear their sing-song rhymes or listen to them fight. I once sat in a restaurant with my friend Ruthie and her then 3 1/2 year old son while we received the most horrible service imaginable. After an hour of waiting for our food, her son was still in his seat, behaving like a gentleman and having a conversation with the adults there. Parents, this should be the standard to which you hold your children.
5. Trying to reason with your darling little one in the throes of a temper tantrum is not going to work and, frankly, looks ridiculous. You would do far better to completely ignore them. It won't make it any easier on me to hear the tantrum, but at least I won't need to listen to the additional nonsense of you reasoning with the unreasonable.
6. My out of work plans are just as important as yours. Don't you dare ever play the parent card when trying to determine who will work late or on a weekend. Your child will have another fecking soccer game. I assure you he will. Just because my plans are "only" dinner with friends I haven't seen is six months, doesn't make your darling child any of my interest or concern. Share the load.
That's enough for now. Can't wait to hear from my mom and dad friends. :O)
Then, 12-13 year old daughter finishes with the car seat business, shuts the back door and proceeds to stand by the front seat where she starts very slowly picking french fries off her seat one by one, and dropping them gingerly into the parking lot. Meanwhile, mom still has her damn door open. So, I make a move to begin pulling in to the parking spot next to the daughter, thinking this might prompt her to pick up the pace or just sweep the fries on to the floor of the van (it was no prize, it could have been done), shut her door and let the nice man in the SUV have his parking spot. Oh no, daughter looks at me, then goes back to slowly picking french fries off her seat.
So, here's where it gets interesting. While the slow french fry picker is trying her damnedest to ignore me, I tap the horn. No, I did not lay on the horn, I tapped it to get the daughter's attention. She looked at me and I gave her a questioning look that communicated nicely "Can I have this spot now?" Well, that didn't go over well with mommy because mommy jumped out of her seat, rushed to my window and screamed "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! THERE ARE CHILDREN!!!" I calmly but firmly replied "Well, what is wrong is that you are taking up three parking spots between your van and your open doors and neither you or your daughter appear to be courteous enough to share the two that are not occupied by your van." Mommy then did the dumbest thing I've ever seen. She ran to her daughter's side, put her arm around her and looked at me as if to say "See the injury you've inflicted? Poor child." At this point, I shook my head, rolled my eyes at her and gave a low finger out of her eye sight, and took off to hunt for another parking spot, which I found eventually.
This only fueled my long standing opinion that many parents lose their minds at the first sight of their child wet and squirming from the womb and become over-indulgent nut bags for the next 30 -40 years. This is not all parents, mind you. In fact, most parents that I'm acquainted with would have told the slow french fry plucking daughter to hurry her ass up and get in the car and give the nice man his parking spot.
As someone who has chosen not to have children (it would ruin my hips), I am still able to appreciate and respect the desire of those who want children. I also understand completely that parenting is demanding. And of course I believe the children are our future. La la la. However, there are still a few ground rules for parents to follow around those who are not:
1. Your baby stroller does not have the right of way. It would be nice if you pushed it to the side when you stop to look at something in a store aisle or at the farmer's market.
2. When two mommies meet in an aisle, it is impolite to stop your baby strollers side by side and carry on a conversation lasting more than 4 seconds. You are in the way. Make a play date.
3. If I have covered all your duties at work while you are on maternity leave, you had better consider buying me a big damn gift or, at the VERY least, a nice thank you card with some Dairy Queen gift certificates tucked inside. Don't come back and critique my way of carrying on business in your absence. This makes you an asshole and the object of my scorn.
4. When eating out, don't let your darling little children run all over the restaurant and carry on as if it were your home. I don't care how cute they are. I don't want to see their toys, hear their sing-song rhymes or listen to them fight. I once sat in a restaurant with my friend Ruthie and her then 3 1/2 year old son while we received the most horrible service imaginable. After an hour of waiting for our food, her son was still in his seat, behaving like a gentleman and having a conversation with the adults there. Parents, this should be the standard to which you hold your children.
5. Trying to reason with your darling little one in the throes of a temper tantrum is not going to work and, frankly, looks ridiculous. You would do far better to completely ignore them. It won't make it any easier on me to hear the tantrum, but at least I won't need to listen to the additional nonsense of you reasoning with the unreasonable.
6. My out of work plans are just as important as yours. Don't you dare ever play the parent card when trying to determine who will work late or on a weekend. Your child will have another fecking soccer game. I assure you he will. Just because my plans are "only" dinner with friends I haven't seen is six months, doesn't make your darling child any of my interest or concern. Share the load.
That's enough for now. Can't wait to hear from my mom and dad friends. :O)
Friday, September 3, 2010
There are days...
...that I don't feel much unlike our friend Judy in this clip- little hands, high forehead and just a little slow.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
State Fair Frolicking
As I was lying in bed last night, I came up with something really interesting and engaging to write about on my blog. It was something that would prove that I really do think about things other than what to eat next and where to go and what fun I want to have. This morning, the thought had vanished. So, instead, I will post pictures of our Minnesota State Fair adventure.
Here is Curt, excited about the prospect of getting hot mini cinnamon rolls with extra cream cheese frosting. They are tasty. Trust me and the twenty pounds of them I have hanging around my waist.
Here is a gratuitous knitting shot for Madame Leiderhosen. This thing was at least 12 feet long. Who has the yarn and the time to do that?
This is a corn beauty contest. It doesn't make much sense to me either. Enough said.
CROP ART!!! We love our crop art in Minnesota. For the uninitiated, we have a whole section devoted to crop art at our state fair. Crop art is images constructed entirely of seeds and grain. To really be good, you need to use only crops that can be grown in a Minnesota growing season. There are other categories, like dyed/painted seeds, but they are less prestigious than the traditional, Minnesota grown seeds. I'm embarrassed to have just written that last sentence.
Crop artists are also known for their sense of humor and/or political (left leaning) politics. The latter might be explained by the fact that most right leaning artists are painting Jesus or sunbeams coming through clouds or other tired images that they've been painting for hundreds of years. Oh, and they have no sense of humor. I said it.
Curt and pal, Marina, in front of the growing crowds. We got to the fair at 8:00 a.m.. By 10:30 it was packed with people grazing from one artery clogging concession stand to the next. Count me in!
Butter heads. This is the under-construction butter head of Princess Kay of the Milky Way. Don't ask, but yes, they are creepy.
Sheep judging. I was assured by Marina and Curt that they weren't being judged on the size of their balls. There were some big ones that could have one a ribbon if I had been judging. How-dee boy. Click on the picture to enlarge and see what I'm talking about.
So what did I eat, you ask?
Here is Curt, excited about the prospect of getting hot mini cinnamon rolls with extra cream cheese frosting. They are tasty. Trust me and the twenty pounds of them I have hanging around my waist.
Here is a gratuitous knitting shot for Madame Leiderhosen. This thing was at least 12 feet long. Who has the yarn and the time to do that?
This is a corn beauty contest. It doesn't make much sense to me either. Enough said.
CROP ART!!! We love our crop art in Minnesota. For the uninitiated, we have a whole section devoted to crop art at our state fair. Crop art is images constructed entirely of seeds and grain. To really be good, you need to use only crops that can be grown in a Minnesota growing season. There are other categories, like dyed/painted seeds, but they are less prestigious than the traditional, Minnesota grown seeds. I'm embarrassed to have just written that last sentence.
Crop artists are also known for their sense of humor and/or political (left leaning) politics. The latter might be explained by the fact that most right leaning artists are painting Jesus or sunbeams coming through clouds or other tired images that they've been painting for hundreds of years. Oh, and they have no sense of humor. I said it.
Curt and pal, Marina, in front of the growing crowds. We got to the fair at 8:00 a.m.. By 10:30 it was packed with people grazing from one artery clogging concession stand to the next. Count me in!
Butter heads. This is the under-construction butter head of Princess Kay of the Milky Way. Don't ask, but yes, they are creepy.
Sheep judging. I was assured by Marina and Curt that they weren't being judged on the size of their balls. There were some big ones that could have one a ribbon if I had been judging. How-dee boy. Click on the picture to enlarge and see what I'm talking about.So what did I eat, you ask?
1. Big Fat Bacon with a chipotle orange sauce.
2. Cinni-Minis with extra cream cheese frosting
3. A huge peach (my favorite)
4. Several bites of Curt's raspberry shake from the dairy building
5. Pork chop on a stick
6. Cotton candy
I could have sworn I showed some restraint this year, but I guess not. Better luck next year.
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