The four choices. Hate them all.

BYO Tongs

Whole Foods Brentwood
7:45pm, Monday, January 4, 2010

There is an absurdly long line at the prepared foods counter and I am finally handed the sure-to-be-horrible piece of chicken I intend to cut up into my reheated concoction of macaroni and cheese and frozen broccoli. I decide that it would be tasty to also add some of those canned jalapeno slices but Whole Foods does not appear to carry this item. So I go to the produce section... just to take a look at a fresh jalapeno and see if it's something I would consider cooking. It is not.

And then I see her. Mid 50s with smooth dark hair and pasty pale skin. This woman is eating something on a stick. Free samples? I ask myself. I look around and see the domed plastic sample platter full of oranges. But there are no sticks involved. I look back and this woman and I realize that she is eating her orange slice while still holding it in the serving tongs.

Completely horrified, I inch closer and closer just in case she plans to put the tongs back in the tray. I am half way between the jalapenos and the perpetrator when she takes it one step further and the tongs actually make contact with the inside of her mouth! Is this the trylight zone? Since when does a complimentary sample mean you are free to lick the serving utensil?

She removes the tongs from her mouth and begins to look toward the serving tray. At this point I notice a produce-section worker with what has to be the same look on his face as my own. He hesitantly moves forward and then stops once or twice, as I do, not quite sure how to handle the woman who is now actually reaching to place the soiled tongs back on the tray. He sees me, he looks at her, I move forward.

I WILL stop her if I have to. If I am unable to stop her, I will NOT feel bad explaining to her that what she has just done is not acceptable behavior.

In a heroic effort, the produce-section worker calls out to the woman, "Here, put them here." She looks at the man and back and the tray, reaching once more to place them back into the pile of orange slices. He calls to her again, "No, please, I'll take those, put them here." She unwillingly steps closer to the man and he points to a box on his cart where she should place the tongs. She cooperates and then turns around coming face to face with me and my flared nostrils. She walks away and the produce-section worker and I exchange a look of disbelief, disgust, and relief. He shakes his head, I roll my eyes, saying, "Disgusting." Then I ask him about the jalapenos before going home to heat my horrible, dry chicken which I could not bear to add to my jalapenoless broccoli macaroni and cheese.

I have a stalker

And he is not human...


Yesterday during lunch I was sitting outside on my little blanket attempting to complete my weekly New York Magazine crossword puzzle. This is my favorite crossword puzzle because it's not too easy or too difficult and is culturally relevant enough to capture my attention and teach me a few things.

Maybe it was because I had pandora streaming from my blackberry's speaker or maybe it was because my hair was a slept-on, wind-blown mess, making me look like a rodent, but I realized that someone or something was watching me.

He was small. 8 inches at the most, not including his tail, and he was on the thin side. He was confident, though. He observed me for a minute... and then he began his approach. Staring intently ahead, this little creature marched within 6 feet of my blanket, ignoring my order to "Go away!" He had a gleam in his little beady eyes that made me nervous as he got closer and closer. When he was 3 feet away I threw my right shoe at him and he reluctantly retreated.

Temporarily.

I had barely filled in "HOSTILE" for 4 Across', "Far from friendly" clue, when he crept back into a space I would prefer to call a squirrel-free zone. This time he was fearless and defiantly sidestepped my flying left shoe. I stood up in just in case I needed to make a barefoot run for my life. He zig-zagged forward, close enough to take a full-shower from my cup, and I threw 16 oz of cold water on the beast. He was stunned by the attack and hopped around twitching the water off his furry spy jacket.

I stood there trying to gauge the likelihood of another assault and considering my options if one were to take place. In terms of "fight," I could throw my magazine, which would probably not go very far. I could throw my phone, which probably wouldn't be damaged by the grass but also wouldn't DO very much. In terms of "flight," I could take off, barefoot, into the parking lot screaming, "Killer Squirrel!!" Fortunately he backed away toward his side of the lawn.

After glaring at me for a few minutes while drying off, he scampered laterally away from me and circled back. I stared him down and he stared right back but did not come as close as the last time. This went on for close to 5 minutes before he started scoping out better hiding places.

For the duration of my lunch hour, the little bastard did not let me out of his sight, nor did I allow loss of visual contact with the suspect. With a disappointing number of empty columns and rows left in my crossword puzzle, I gathered my things and backed away toward my building.

A few days later, I was picking up some lunch in the office park with a friend when Mr. Squirrel made another appearance. He stood between me and the little deli and stared me down. My friend scared him away but only long enough for us to enter the deli. He was out there waiting for us, and I could see him from inside. He was loitering around the doorway just waiting for his chance. With sandwich in hand, I made a run for it and just barely escaped, rabies-free. He sat glaring at us as we drove away in my friend's car, wishing that he himself had a squirrel car so that he could follow us and eat our lunches.

What is WRONG with me

Now that this is really turning into a dream blog, how about this dumb-ass move:

I have been known to cancel dentist appointments and curse people out and not remember when they call me early in the morning. Now that I sleep with my phone off, this isn't so much of a problem, but I still do stupid things when I first wake up in the morning.

For example, this morning my phone alarm went off (dammit, I left my phone at home!) and I remembered a dream I had during the night. It was about a boy I went to high school with. We weren't exactly what I would call friends... there were a lot of fluctuating relationship dynamics going on between his friends and me and my friends... but we definitely knew each other. He was never as big of a douche as the rest of his friends and we are friendly twice a year when we see each other.

So thanks to the wonders of facebook mobile technology, from the warm comfort of my bed, I was able to send a message to this boy before I was even awake enough to lift my head from the pillow.

And here is what I said:

"Last night I had a dream that I was sitting in the living room of your parents house watching baseball on tv with them and you showed me pictures of the black side of your family except they were all drawings because they couldn't afford a camera until you guys found out about them and took them in.

PS I'm still half asleep in bed with one eye closed so its probably really dumb that I'm even telling you this."

Now I am just DYING to know if that made him laugh when he saw it, because it definitely made me laugh when I first told someone. I really want to know what he thought, who he told, and what they said! May send spies in to find out.

This is starting to turn into a dream blog

I was in Chicago and Courtney and her roommate were out. It was raining out and I got let into their dorm to wait for them but I had to leave and I left the door open to I could get back in.

Then I was friends with a group of people who all worked together and they were trying to help me out with a test I had to take. They had packets and floor plans of where everyone had to sit for the test but there were so many that they couldn't remember where I was.

I was holding a half-black, baby-sized midget who was getting married and she was wearing a pink see through dress and a diaper, had almost no hair, and smelled weird. She got married before but no one came and she wore black that time. Her friend was getting ready in the same room and she had the most absurd makeup (see below) including a teal metallic design on her forehead and thick black smudgy lip liner that looked like a mustache.

My mom was throwing me a party over at her old house and there were 2 Abby dogs (Springer Spaniels) and they were running loose and I was scared that they were lost. Mom was up all night making food and I was sleeping in bed with a guy and a girl who both had a penis. At 6:45 we were woken up because there was a huge fire and we all had to evacuate.

I went to find my Grandma Trudy at her gas station and parked right in the middile of the lot but her employee was working. I went in the back and found her... but it was my mom and she wanted to go to her place but I was like, Mom, your old house was a freaking bomb shelter, why wouldn't we go there? So we were talking and she lead me to the bathroom and I waved bye to my grandpa on my way in.

I dream in color

Last night I awoke from a dream at 3:41, which is actually 3:34. This dream was so strange and vivid that I had to get it down on paper before it was gone . Normally I write my dreams in the dark, taking up whole pages with 4 lines for fear of overlapping in the dark. But for this dream I was willing to risk not being able to fall back asleep, so I turned on my light and pulled out a pen and paper.

Kit Porter from The L Word took me to a large empty warehouse and everything was grey and there were some strange little Spanish mafia people waiting for us. Apperently she had brought me there to pay off some debt as a sex slave or laborer, or something unpleasant.

There was something stopping me from being able to be handed over. My eyes wouldn't adjust to the dark warehouse only it was in reverse. I was blinded by the light coming out of everyone's faces.

Finally I somehow saved the day by accidentally knocking somethng over and setting offf a chain reaction like one of those mouse traps only it was the entire city. Things were bouncing and ricocheting and catapulting everywhere like a pinball machine

Marge and Homer Simpson were brown furry things way on the other side of town and there was a marble that kept bouncing between two poles and every time it bounced back, Homer and Marge would mutate and duplicate like humps on a caterpillar.

After I saved the day, I went back to the gym for a class but there was a sub, which always makes me upset. This time the sub was holding class in the locker room, more specifially in a claw-footed bathtub with curtains. She had everyone stand in brightly colored buckets made of some soft but solid gel-like material and do squats while making strange noises.

A childhood friend's little brother, Ian, showed up at the gym and sat by the crowded pool doing a cool frisbee trick. My brother watched in awe and jealousy as Ian sent the frisbee whizzing past people in one direction, then skimming the water and swirling in the other direction nearly missing more people and then swooping for another splash and turn maneuver.

Then I had to pee.

Speaking of things I want but can't have...

I fantasize about the following emoticons:

Tired/Sleepy

Growl aka ARGH

Eye-rolling

Update:

I would also like one with a giant ear, to capture, "I'm listening."

If I were a rich girl

Have you ever thought about how you would spend your money if you had more than you could ever dream of? I have, and of course I would give significantly to charitable groups, invest wisely, help loved ones, the usual. But after all that, there are a few things I would like to have that I bet you never would have thought of...

Like my very own in-home salad bar with an Asian lady who comes around to refill it every day. She has to be Asian or else it's not like Charlie Brown's.

And a hibachi grill with a chef. Shrimp-flipping not required but appreciated.

How about someone to peel my grapes because I hate grape skin. And another person to peel my oranges because I can't stand to do it myself.

And finally, I would have a group of little people working together to trim my split ends, one by one. The split ends and only the split ends.

The end.

Typical Friday night of Erdeness

"What I did on my vacation by Valerie E." (by Laina E.)

On Friday, my sister and I were so full from lunch that we didn't feel like eating when she got home from work. So after I watched her do her workout video in the living room, we went shopping on the 3rd St. Promenade in Santa Monica.

It was a nice night on the promenade and there were street performers, but at about 10pm I started to get hungry. First we went to a really cool mini mart that had such a random assortment my favorite Japanese snacks along with an amazing variety of American foods. We spent 10 minutes deciding what to eat and then we saw those delicious steamed buns that they serve at Dim Sum restaurants. I got a chicken teryaki bun and my sister got her own bun, and then we split a red bean bun. Mmmm buns.

Then we stopped at the supermarket and I bought fruit salad and broccoli and cheddar Lean Pockets. While I was heating my lean pocket, my sister told me that she didn't know they had any vegetarian Lean Pockets. I told her, of course they do.

I have no interest in eating any meat in a pocket. That is frozen.

Later we were sitting around on two of my sister's three couches, which her roommate bought for $105, all of which she hates because they are old, ratty, and smelly. I asked her if the pillows came with the couches. She told me she bought them at Bed, Bath, & Beyond and shuddered as she described the original pillows.

I told her how disappointed I was that instead of giving it to me for my new apartment as promised, our dad had given away his living room couch to a Nigerian man who planned to send it back to Nigeria for his family. My sister burst out laughing over this revelation which made me laugh at the idea as well.

She told me that there was NO way that anyone would send a 15 year old couch to Africa. I told her that that's what the man said, but she insisted that there was just no way it would happen, wondering outloud how much it would even cost to send a couch to Africa.

So we looked it up online on the world wide web. We estimated that the couch was 70"x48"x33" and weighed approximately 60 lbs. UPS calculated that in 5 days, this couch could arrive in the capital of Nigeria for the low low cost of $1207.96.

We thought that this was a lot to pay to send a couch and decided to find out how much it would cost to buy a couch in Nigeria. Sadly for the Nigerians, the nearest country served by the mighty Craigslist is South Africa. But for the sake of estimation we decided this was fairly sufficient and searched for "couch" in Cape Town. There was only one available for sale, and it was ZAR950.

Now, I can convert a lot of things, actually I can't... but we did not happen to know the ZAR:USD conversion rate. Luckily my sister knew of a website on the internet that could convert these things automatically. We now know that ZAR950=93.63 USD.

In conclusion, my sister's smelly couches were the best deal, but see how we tried to help others by and sell couches:


From: Laina E.
Sent: Saturday, February 21, 2009 12:54 AM
To: sale-1000767768@craigslist.org
Subject: couch

** CRAIGSLIST ADVISORY --- AVOID SCAMS BY DEALING LOCALLY
** Avoid: wiring money, cross-border deals, work-at-home
** Beware: cashier checks, money orders, escrow, shipping
** More Info: http://www.craigslist.org/about/scams.html

- Hide quoted text -

Hi,

This is very strange, but I was doing some research online and saw your post seeking a couch. I also saw a post with a nice looking blue-ish couch for sale. Here is the link: http://capetown.craigslist.co.za/fuo/989733875.html

By the way, I am in California. Also, it costs $1,207 to ship a couch from New Jersey to Nigeria. Like I said, strange.

Good luck with the couch.

Laina

From: Shelley M. Ottino
Sent: Saturday, February 21, 2009 9:12 AM
To: Laina E.
Subject: Re: couch

Thanks very much for the info, I was really looking for a couch in Durban, South Africa for my parents, I am actually in Texas.

Thanks again - Shelley

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