Mi Car Es Su Car

I quite enjoy breathing, so yesterday I had to go pick up an allergy prescription from the pharmacy, so I could continue to do it for the foreseeable future.

While waiting for the pharmacy to fill the prescription, because it apparently takes 35 minutes to lift a bottle of nasal spray off a shelf and put it in a bag, I sit in my car, nursing a Starbucks Americano and an almond tart because why not? The sun is shining, the car is warm, I'm sleepy as all hell, sitting back, relaxing, looking uber-cool in my high class sunglasses with the rhinestone bling, when I hear this noise. It's a familiar sound but I can't quite place it right away. 

In a couple of seconds it hits me like the stench from whatever mutated plankton lives inside Kanye West's decaying brain. That's exactly how my keys sound when I'm trying to get into the trunk of my car. I swing around puzzled, squinting through the rear windshield, and I see this man, about 65, sort of cheery, rotund like Santa but less elf-rapey looking, trying to open my trunk. With a key, no less. The trunk, unsurprisingly, is not cooperating.

He keeps taking out the key and looking at it astounded, like it's turned into a giant finger or something, then he tries to open it again.

What the eff, non-bearded-Santa?

Around about this time he looks up and catches my eye. His expression is not dissimilar to someone who's just opened his bathroom door to find Hitler taking a shit in his sink. What in the hell is some kind of reddish-blonde headed chick doing, brazenly sitting in his goddamn car drinking coffee, is he going to have to administer an ass whoopin'? 

He looks away from me, looks back at the car, then looks at me again making this face:

Then he steps back and glances at my license plate and well...you know in "Futurama" when Fry wakes up and finds himself in the 31st century? His face looked sort of like that.

Because, no, that is not his license plate.

He proceeds to turn a shade of crimson not generally found in nature and he mouths the words "I am so sorry..." and does that creepy cartoon burglar walk of shame back to his own car which was happily sitting two spots down from mine, laughing its ass off, and identical to mine down to the strategic bird crap on the windshield. 

I very kindly let him go on thinking he was a giant confused dufus however, and I definitely didn't tell him that ten minutes earlier, when I entered the parking lot from the pharmacy, I had nonchalantly approached his car, thinking it was mine and rested my coffee cup on its roof while fumbling for my keys, before realizing my mistake and strolling off nonchalantly like I'd known all along. 

The moral of the story is, he didn't see me being a giant clown's ass, so I win.

Yeah...

What the hey, old blog world, are you still there?

Man, I've been busy. And lazy. And non-involved in stuff. And I got a new computer and once again, lost all my blog subscriptions and am now scratching my head in confusion as to how to find everyone again. Hi, I haven't changed AT ALL!

I'm considering doing this again here and there. I miss it. Sometimes. I don't know if anyone's still out there though and well. It's never going to be the heyday of the early thousands right? Everyone's Facebooking their asses off nowadays and I'm still NOT doing that, and only embracing the continuing joy that is Instagram while trying avidly to avoid their constant insistence that I might like to check out Kim Kardashian's latest nude celebration of self (um...no?) or other some other vapid fame whores I care nothing about.

Wasn't there a cyber Monday recently? Did anyone blog? Am I delirious? Don't even answer that.

If you're there, say hello. If you're not there, I'll just send you vibes.

Good?

The One Where I Clean The Toilet!

Today's been suitably sweaty hot.  The kind of hot that makes your hair do odd, vertical things even if it's fairly long.  The frizz!  I'm not used to humidity any more with my heat, but this week's been heading for a storm. I'd forgotten how it gets into everything and makes your bum-crack sweat.  Was that TMI?  I think possibly.

Let's continue like that then, I guess.  Today was a cleaning frenzy. Living in a hard water hell hole the toilet had a crust of rusty nastiness on the bottom no matter how often or hard I scrub it, it never looks clean. Mineral deposits. Looks for the world like someone left another kind of deposit in there, if you get my drift.  I know you get my drift.  I'm a big vinegar and water girl when it comes to cleaning and a store bought cleaner and a little non enviro-friendly bleach in the toilet, but when it comes to these big, brown mineral deposit thingies I had to hand the task over to the superhero villain of the toilet world - Lysol Black.  That isn't its actual name I don't think, but it's in a black bottle of DEATH so you know it's not taking any hostages, plus I'd tried everything else. Holy crap (ha!) that thing worked a charm.  It made everything whiter than a KKK meeting.  Not a rust stain in sight.  I stood back in all my sweaty wonder and admired my finally white toilet.  Screw the environment, Lysol black, I bow before your power!

I'm kidding.  I love the environment.  Maybe that stuff would work on Justin Bieber?  It's worth a try I say.

I did just write a post about toilet cleaning, you feel free to call me some professional medical help.

Well Isn't This Unusual?

Well hey there!  Don't I suck at this "I'm now going to update regularly" thing? Yes, I do, even I'll admit it.  It's not that I don't want to come here and write something sparkling and fun, I do! I really do.  I like you all and I miss the interaction.  It's that, god damn, I have nothing much to say of late. I'm boring as can be.  It's summer, I'm out trying to enjoy the sun before it effs off again for the year.  And nothing exciting is happening.  Had a nice vacation in late June, which was fabulous, and now....normalcy.  That is all.

I mean it's nice, I'm relaxed, driving around on the weekend, eating pizza on Fridays, drinking wine (tonight actually, can you tell?) doing DIY projects like rewiring my old childhood globe lamp and adding an on/off switch, because I'm handy like that, and sanding, revamping some old furniture for the apartment, and planning some crafty stuff I need to make and oh yeah....looking for a new job. Who enjoys that chore?  Not me. Busy, busy, busy my friends.

Should there be an Oxford comma in that last sentence?  Do I really care?

I'm sorry this isn't funny but I'm full of wine and it's mid-week so that's either extravagant of me, or really, really sad.  I prefer the former.  I did clean the fridge today and it is sparkling. So white you need sunglasses to open it. I also bought little baskets and things to house various veggies and the like to stop them shedding skins (I'm talking to YOU, onions) and the like, and lined all my half empty condiment bottles up in the door (how come everyone can be almost out of groceries but always manages to have several thousand condiments?) Anyway, I'm so organized it's frightening.  This might be the most boring thing I've ever written.

I hope you are all enjoying summer?

I Made This!

I've been crocheting a blanket!  Yes, really!  Because if summer's about anything it's about making things that can make you even warmer.  This beast was started a few years ago when I was trying to get through a great northern winter with my sanity intact, then I stopped when it got so large it was starting to create a shadow observable from space (and possibly speed up global warming), and now I've started it up again, on a quest to actually finish it this time.  Did I mention it's huge?  Like super-California-king sized huge?  Because it is. The photo's a little misleading, the colours are a little darker and brighter than they appear here.  Burnt orange, a yellowy-leaf green and a more orangey egg yolk yellow.  It looks like the seventies came along when I was asleep and threw up on it. It is THAT awesome.

How's your summer been so far? For me summer so far's been puzzling.  Lots of rain, thunderclouds and perplexing lack of real summer weather.  The few fantastically sunny days have been spent in the outdoors grinning like an idiot (I love summer) and the others have been spent scooping my bottom lip up off the floor at the disappointment of yet more rain.  I hope this stops soon.  I don't survive winter for this nonsense in the summer.  Please let someone in charge know.

As you were.

Land of Ice and Sea

Last week I had the dubious pleasure of sleeping in four different countries, on four consecutive nights, one of which wasn't even a blip on my itinerary. This wasn't really something on my "to do" list exactly, it just worked out that way in a sort of unprecedented clusterfuck of travel plans gone awry. Sometimes these things provide interesting diversions, when everything's just so out of your control you can sit back and attempt some level of enjoyment, knowing there's nothing else you can do.

The view from my hotel room. It was light like this till 1am.

The second, and most interesting, of those nights I slept in Iceland, a consequence of flight delays leaving me not a chance in hell of making my connecting flight and instead being bussed to a very nice little hotel in the town of Keflavic, where I had 24 hours to wander around aimlessly with no currency, no clue where I was going and a dwindling phone charge due to charger incompatibility. Despite all this is was fun and interesting.

Who expects to be in Iceland?  Not I, at least not for more than an hour while I drag my tired self to my next flight. If I'd known I might have been more prepared. Too bad I didn't have enough time to troll around Reykjavic or check out the famous Blue Lagoon hot springs.

Yeah there's no fake sleeping going on in here!

"Do you have any rather uninteresting photos you could show us, Veg?" I hear you not say? Why yes I do.  I also have some rather fun aerial shots of Greenland and a story about the day I ended up in Denver drinking a margarita at 10:30am, but that's for some other time.

Barren and volcanic

Icelandic coastline

Creepy...built into the hillside

A monument for sailors lost at sea? I couldn't understand the plaque.

I don't know either, but I kind of like them

Blue flower by the monument

Starting to look a little stormy... Iceland's weather looks just like Scotland

Hey Extroverts...Don't

You know there's a difference between being introverted and being anti-social.  That's what I tell myself.  I don't consider myself anti-social - I get on with people, I have friends, I'm fine at conversations and small talk if the need arises, I like hanging out with small groups of friends at a bar or wherever.  I just prefer not to go out in large groups, partying or clubbing or doing fantastically extroverted loud things with lots of people or groups because I don't have any particular love for it and I don't see the need.

Therefore, I don't see why people are all up in your grill in public places because they think that it's socially okay to quiz you like a Jeopardy contestant.  Take the laundry room.  I'm totally fine with saying "good evening" or polite claptrap about the weather, or the holidays - just enough for the wait not to be cloaked in a silent stew of awkwardness.  But I don't know what gets into some people who seem to think that occupying the same space at the same time stipulates they can get all kinds of familiar.  What's your name? Where are you from?  What apartment do you live in? Have you lived here long? What do you do?

DIE IN A FIRE, that's what I do.  I just met you, dude, while I'm washing my smalls, you can't ask me anything personal.

I'm not sure how to deal with such over abundant questions I don't feel like answering from someone I don't even know.  I thought maybe I'd try one of these:

1) Pretend to be Bulgarian or something and speak some made up language.
2) Stare at him without blinking, like a serial killer, not saying a word.
3) Shout, "MY NAME IS VEG WHO ARE YOU, THANKS FOR ASKING" at the top of my lungs so that he gets confused and runs away in horror.
4) Say, "Do you want to put my underwear on your head?"

What is the proper etiquette for such things?  I'm not sure I'm qualified.