Thoughts of a Twitterless Thinker--------August 3, 2011 edition

Any new reader of Foreign Quang, will need to know that I don’t use Twitter. Although I don’t Tweet and send out random messages throughout the day, telling you what I am thinking or doing, I do think, and I do do!  Behold-- random thoughts and deeds, not necessarily limited to 140 characters.

    Do you ever wimp out? I’m not talking about feeling the heebie jeebies when you’re ready to parachute out of an airplane. I’m talking about being a coward when your life is not being threatened in any way. Last week I was at the grocery store and had nine coupons with me. After I left the store, I looked at the receipt and noticed that the cashier only scanned eight of them. Maybe I should have gone back and asked for my additional 75 cents off, but I started thinking. Thinking too much. How can I prove that I had an additional coupon? What if I bring it to their attention and they think, “Couponers are a pain in the backside and we’re not going to do this any more”?  What if I get a rude customer service rep and it ruins my day?  So I wimped out and said nothing. It was only 75 cents.

    Later that day I went to another grocery store that had their store-brand frozen vegetables on sale for 88 cents. Normally they are $1.50 so I thought this was a really good deal. I got two bags of frozen corn, but when I got to the register, they rang up at $1.50 each. Apparently the ad was for only white frozen corn and not yellow corn. Did I tell the cashier I didn’t want them? No. I took my lumps and my $1.50 corn and went home. Why didn’t I tell the cashier I didn’t want them?  I didn’t say anything because what if she thought I was POOR? I definitely need some wimp intervention.

    This is really cool. The other night I was cleaning my kitchen and happened to look at the digital clock on the stove. It said “9:11.”  September 11 is my daughter Kay’s birthday. I continued getting things done and did not look at the clock again until I glanced up and saw that it read “11:17.” November 17 is my daughter Em’s birthday. I was marveling at this coincidence and went into our office and did some things on the computer. I got tired so I got up, went into the kitchen and noticed that it was 12:17, which is my birthday! Cue the Twilight Zone music.

    Adopted granddaughter, Pixie, celebrated her first birthday last week. She’s a tiny little thing and you mothers will appreciate this: She is 12 months and wears size 12 months. Freaky, huh? Has that ever happened before?  Daughter Kay practically wore size 12 months from the womb.

    Grandson Chunk came over to visit us old folks last Wednesday. I even gave up So You Think You Can Dance to play with him. My best friend, logic, told me, “You can always watch SYTYCD on their website later. You can’t play with Chunk online later.” Yup, I’m a thinker.  He found our apple tree and was elated to find he could reach the fruit himself. He picked seven of them and counted them as he put them into a bowl, “Nine, two, nine, two. Seven.”  He’s a smartie, that one. His brother, Avatar is a brainiac too. He fell down and when his dad asked him if he was all right, seven year old Avatar said, “I’m okay. It was a soft impact.” 

    Where’s Robin Leach when you need him? I want a television show called Lifestyles of the Rich and Ignorant. Apparently Kim Kardashian is suing Old Navy because they used a model who looked like her. Oh no! Kim should definitely sue for damages because now wherever she goes, people will be saying, “Look! Isn’t that the Old Navy model?”  Okay, so let’s say she sues Old Navy and wins. The model then goes to work somewhere else. Is Kim going to follow this model around, suing her wherever she goes, prohibiting her from working, because she committed the crime of looking like Kim Kardashian? Kim needs a job.

    Something you may not know about me—I fear cooked vegetables. I think it stems from when I was a toddler and my mom fed me a vegetable that was a beautiful reddish purple. I was young enough to think that pretty = yummy. I bit into a beet. I think that trauma scarred me because I have a hard time controlling the hurl reflex when I bite into a cooked veggie. Except corn. Or baked beans. But I love, love, love some fresh, raw veggies. Aren’t these beautiful? 

    Woot, woot moment: I’ve lost 23 pounds since the last part of April.

    I’m gonna go cry now moment: Weston said today, “Why do you have so much white hair on the side of your head? Didn’t you used to pull those out?”  Weston learned that he can run faster than his mama.

   Happy Birthday, Mom. You gave me the greatest gift—knowing that I was loved.