Archive for February, 2010

Roxy Dog

This is our dog, Roxy. Pit bull and shepherd mix. She’s one of the most timid, anxious, paranoid dogs ever, yet the most loving and friendly dog I know. She’s nervous when there is no one home, and occasionally chews up random items that she’s not supposed to have, but always tells us when we come home with her scared behavior that she knows she’s done something wrong. I think she just freaks herself out during the day, wondering if we are ever coming home, and not realizing that we will always be home after work. She loves to run, even in our less-than-desirable-sized back yard. But I am pretty sure she may be the fastest dog alive. She’s not very tall, but she could take on a greyhound any day.

She listens well, gets scared easily by raised voices, and has a very expressive face. And she looks bored out of her mind when we are sitting around at home. Roxy is the greatest dog anyone could ask for.

I love taking pictures of her, it’s always so easy.

I love our dog.

• • •

Mystery of Spandex

Whoever determined that this was a desirable exercise outfit?

Nothing says “I’m getting in shape” like spandex and leg warmers. And don’t forget the leotard or the optional baggy, cut-up sweatshirt. Is it really more beneficial to wear these types of clothing while breaking a sweat, or did someone just decide at one point that it was an amazing way to dress and everyone should look as fabulous as they did. Maybe the fitness instructors used these outfits as a way of saying, “Hey! You could one day look as thin and ridiculous as we do, but until then, you will just look fat wearing this!” That doesn’t seem very nice, though, does it? No, it’s quite mean, really. Why would they say that..?

I was just a little tyke when people trotted around in such attire, so I have never had the pleasure of adorning any such thing, but it still makes me wonder. A sweatband won’t help much with a can of hairspray in gigantic, puffed-out hair. And I will never quite understand the point of a leotard over a pair of shorts or pants, when shorts and a shirt or tank is just as useful and maybe even easier to put on.

I guess I will never fully know or understand why this was the appropriate workout dress, but as far as I am concerned, spandex is definitely not for everyone, and I’m glad I do not have to dress that way.

• • •

Politically Peeved

I was going to try and write something creative or entertaining today, but I have recently become quite angered, and am no longer in the mood to do so.

I am becoming quite sick and tired of being misinterpreted with just about everything I try to say. Maybe I do not convey meanings well enough in my writing, or maybe people are just too quick to skim my writing and assume they read what is there, but somehow I seem to not be getting any of my points across.

I’ve been frustrated lately with all of the political crap going around, and how somehow politics gets brought up a lot into conversations where it does not necessarily belong. That isn’t even really the big problem.

Here’s the main problem:

I have no issues with people having differing viewpoints from my own. I base all of my opinions on what I see is actually going on, not on what someone’s “political party” is. A person’s party affiliation does not matter as much as whether or not you agree with what they stand for, or what they are trying to do for (or to) our country. I will fully accept anyone’s thoughts and opinions if they can explain to me why that is how they feel. If you have facts or logical ideas to back up what you say, then that is great. It is people that lack knowledge on what they are saying, or that give false information when stating their viewpoints that bother me. I just get frustrated when people put down something I believe in using false information to boost their own position. But if I were to say anything against what they believe, I would instantly get attacked for my thoughts.

This is why I generally avoid getting into any political conversations. I am generally the one with a differing viewpoint, and despite me being able to accept other people’s opinions, I feel like I am shot down for being the different one.

I never said anything for the past 8 years when people attacked and complained about the president that, in my eyes, really didn’t do anything wrong. He took the actions he believed necessary to protect our country. And just because he has an accent, and occasionally stumbled with words because his eyes weren’t glued to a teleprompter, does not mean he was a bumbling fool. He was a real person, with real thoughts and emotions. Not staged and fake.

And yet, whenever I say anything about my disapproval of the current president’s actions, or attempted actions, I am supposed to just sit back and be attacked.. How is that even remotely right? Am I supposed to apologize for being a patriotic person? Should I apologize for wanting to remain a free American, and not have to share what little “wealth” I have with people who contribute little to nothing to my country? I don’t think so.

I know plenty of people on the other side of the political spectrum from myself, and I would like to think they are my friends regardless. I don’t force my thoughts on anyone else, so it doesn’t become an issue.

I let everyone else have their opinions, so I should be allowed to have my own.

• • •

In Perfect Pessimism

People… I know, it’s amazing that I might consider complaining about people. All kinds of people. But the truth is, people frustrate me to the end of all ends. Not intentionally, but they just do. It is a continually worsening cycle of annoyance with people that will probably turn me into one of those little old ladies that all the kids hate, because I just sit on my porch all day and yell at them for being potty-mouthed hooligans. But that will be me, and I’m sure there will plenty of kids like that as well.

First of all, it would be nice if people would stop voicing their opinions or beliefs on political matters when they are completely ignorant of facts about the matters in which they are speaking. Also, it would be appreciated if they would not assume that everyone around them shares their same views. If you are going to rant about something, have true information to back up what you are saying about the opposing side, not just what you wish was true. And don’t assume that I automatically agree with you, because after the thoughts I’ve encountered this past week, chances are I will not.

I’m also tired of the masses of rude people everywhere I go. I may write in this cynical tone, but in reality I’m quite friendly to others. I just have a lot of pent up thoughts, due to the negativeness I witness everyday, along with my inability to be rude or hateful to any person’s face. But there is really no reason for anyone out in public to be so hateful or inconsiderate to anyone else. I do what I can to be polite to other people in public. I try not to offend anyone, and I help the elderly people in wheelchairs at the grocery store when they have trouble reaching something. It’s just who I am.

But just like everyone else, I go to work for eight hours (sometimes more) a day, and I never have one complaint about what I do. (That’s not saying I’ve never complained, because I used to abhor my job, until I started a different one, now it’s glorious.) But I’m still exhausted by the end of the day and want to collapse. I pull parts for orders, and lift mufflers and exhaust pipes and gas tanks, and push carts around all day. I’m on my feet all day doing manual labor, and yet I still have nothing bad to say about my job. But no matter where else I go during the day, rarely do I ever see  an employee that actually looks like they don’t mind being at work. Or I guess I should say I rarely see someone that doesn’t look like they are mad at the world.

I understand not wanting to physically be at work all the time, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make the best of it while you are there. I never feel like getting up in the morning to go to work, but that does not make me act like a jerk to everyone around me, and I still work hard so that I can feel like I’ve accomplished something for the day. Everyone is always so hateful for no apparent reason. I know some people are going through rough situations and whatnot that I have no idea about, but I know every single person in the world is not having a personal crisis all the time.

I’m tired of all the narcissism I encounter all the time. It’s almost impossible to have conversations with people sometimes, or comment on something someone says, without the other person bringing their own circumstance into the picture. Occasionally I may feel like telling someone about something that happened to me, or something I am going through, without them taking it as an opportunity to tell me about a similar situation of their own, or something they are going through. Maybe that makes me self-centered as well, but considering I rarely get to make those statements about myself because of the egocentrism of everyone else, I’d say that hardly makes me full of myself.

I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired. Physically and mentally. I’m sorry to anyone who misinterprets anything I write here, as it’s already happened at least once, but chances are people are looking for something deeper than what is actually here. I am exhausted from working, and frustrated by the things people do.

So, my friends, or acquaintances, go ahead, misinterpret things I say. I will continue on, writing my random thoughts about whatever I feel like, because I am a writer. I do not write to keep a journal, I write to write, hopefully well, and after my rampage of frustration is over I will come up with something more interesting to write.

• • •

When Not to Speak

It occurs to me on many occasions that perhaps I should focus more on what I allow myself to say. I am often seen as a somewhat quiet person, so many people do not realize this, but I have a bit of a filter problem when it comes to spouting out things at the wrong time about complete strangers.

Perhaps the reason I do not care as much is because they are, in fact, strangers, and chances are slim I will ever see them again. And most times I do not believe anyone actually hears me say anything, but there’s always the possibility. But after this past weekend I fear that I may get myself in trouble one of these days.

Let’s just say that late at night, while driving out of the 7-Eleven parking lot, is not the time to yell “What are you looking at!?” to an insanely creepy guy who is quite possibly on drugs staring through the windows of the car as you drive away. And because he stopped behind the car, took a step toward it while giving the finger, and just stood there all horror movie-like, I know for a fact he heard me say something. Yet I still have the defense that he could not have heard what I said exactly, nor known that I was saying it to him, as it’s always possible I could have been yelling at my husband, who was driving the car at the time. Nevertheless, those defenses would not stop a crazy person from doing me physical harm.

I generally only say things when I am very annoyed by the actions of someone, and I have no control over anything they are doing.

For instance, the crazy lady at Walmart yelling at her children, swearing at them and telling them to “shut up” in Spanish. I am all for discipline, but outright yelling in a public place in a different language because you cannot control your children is a bit frustrating to me. And if they really are misbehaving that badly, then leave the store and wait until you can come back without them.

Then there’s always the people at the beach, letting their five young children take off around the playground while they hang out and completely ignore them the entire time. Never mind the forty other older children pushing them around when they know better than to do that, or the hundreds of tourists or creepy people wandering around the beach that I just don’t necessarily trust. Let’s just let our kids loose and hope they come back or don’t injure themselves because we won’t notice either way! It’s too nice of a day out to care about the safety of the kids… I’m not saying people should be super overprotective of their children, because that can be aggravating as well, but they should at least know where they are and that they are not hurt.

Let’s not forget the people who constantly walk around with their phones attached to their ears, regardless of the fact that they are about to walk right smack into someone’s face because they are not paying attention. Or the people with the bluetooths or ear phones surgically attached to their heads, that are just oblivious to the world around them and don’t realize that they look like idiots talking to themselves all the time.

Or people constantly speaking a foreign language. I understand you are from another country, but I do not speak your language here, so you should try to speak mine. If I went to your country, I would have to speak your language for you to understand me, so please return the favor.

I make comments to the people I am with when I encounter such annoyances, and if the offenders happen to overhear and have a problem with it, then so be it. But aside from the creepy druggie guy I have not faced any such issues, and will probably continue to say things without thinking beforehand.  However, I should work on my filter a little bit, and I suppose I will try to avoid saying anything about people that I may be afraid of. Other than that, I don’t generally say a whole lot, and as annoyed by people in the world as I am, I should get to have my fun and complain sometimes.

• • •

Mmm… Cheese dip.

If you go to most any restaurant and look on the appetizer section of the menu, you are bound to see some form of “queso” dip listed. Literal translation of this simply means “cheese” dip. So why is it that people seem to assume that by simply saying “queso” they actually mean “cheese with something else in it”? If you go to someone’s house, and they get out or make queso, they generally mean cheese with salsa mixed in. However, when you buy this food at the store in a jar, you will notice that the jar specifically states, “salsa con queso”, or “salsa with cheese”, not just “cheese”.

Queso cheese (cheese cheese) and queso dip are both just melted cheese, nothing more.

I tend to think of things in more literal translations, and this is what I think of.

• • •