Randomness Thy Name is Wal Mart

Last night I decided to make a quick trip to Wal Mart. I know I should have super middle class ethical issues with their labor practices and so on, but when I'm in a hurry I know Wal Mart will have what I need. Plus even with their horrible labor practices I remember what a help it was financially to my small town when Wal Mart came to town. They employ a lot of people. So there.
Back to my story. I just need a short list of things. Ice cream, leave in conditioner, a book, and the ingredients for caprese salad. That's it. No more, no less, no muss and no fuss. Wrong! It all started in the parking lot and if I was smart I would have just gotten back in my car and put the foolishness off for another day. I park and step out of my car and a young underage worker whistles at me. I give him the "I am old enough to be your mama, if I slutted it up early on in high school look!" He gets a little embarrassed and quickly finds something else more interesting. The security guard who is 300lbs if he's an ounce and doesn't appear to be at the top of the securitizing game laughs and tells me I just "stole that boy's man hood". I shit you not, that's what he said to me. Strange, but whatever. I need my leave in conditioner. I'm cruising the isles doing a good job of not getting too many things I don't need right now and getting what I came for. Suddenly the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I glance around and make eye contact with a migrant worker who is eye-balling me. I give him the blank face to discourage any conversation. I just need my conditioner. He says nothing and continues with the eye-balling. I go about my shopping and he follows me. Just to make sure I wasn't being paranoid I head to the feminine protection isle. If he follows there I know he is following and not just shopping. Oh he follows all right. He says nothing just follows and eyes me. Finally I can't take it anymore. I turn to him and ask what he wants. In broken English he asks me to have a drink with him. I tell him thanks, but no thanks. This should be the end. Nope, this is my life we are talking about and that would be too easy. I pick up tampons... Super Heavy Flow and wave them at him. He calmly hands me panty liners. What kind of fuckery. I want to laugh, but I don't want to encourage him. I throw the box in my cart and head off. He followed me almost the whole time I was there. I quickly head to the checkout 'cause I've had enough. The checker asks to see my ID because I'm purchasing alcohol. No problem... the picture is before my big chop so she squints at it for a while before handing it back to me. She then tells me I never should have destroyed such pretty hair. She is much older than me so instead of telling her to mind her f'ing business, I smile and say it will grow back. At this point I just want to leave. I pay for my purchases and rush home. While I'm putting my things away I notice two things. One, I bought a box of Super Heavy Flow tampons that are large enough to be used to stop a levee break (obviously not the size I use), and two..... no leave in conditioner.

Girly Girl Night

Last night was a pretty laid back night for me. I showed my friend Alyson how to give herself a pedicure. I love going to the nail salon to get a spa pedicure, but whenever I'm low on funds nails are the first thing to go. I stopped getting acrylic nails and spa pedicures. Now I am forced to keep up with that stuff on my own. I own a spa foot soak tub and buying the footcare stuff was relatively cheap so it wasn't a big deal. I know I don't do as good a job as the ladies at the shop but it's free when I do it. My only problem is that I hate feet. I mean I'm happy my feet are functional and don't look like I could use them to catch fish from a lake, but I still think they are disgusting. I don't care how well manicured/pedicured feet are still nasty ass feet! I don't like my feet or anyone else's. I usually don't like people to touch my feet and I definitely won't touch anyone else's. I make an exception at the nail shop because when they finish I know my feet look as good as they ever will. I know it is craziness but it isn't going to change. I had an ex boyfriend who was in love with feet. He always wanted to massage my feet and touch them. We had to work out a foot schedule that basically worked out to he could handle my feet when I was too tipsy to care. I know once again craziness. With that said I am a fanatic about taking care of my feet. I think I go overboard making sure my feet are soft and toenails painted because I am so against feet from the jump. Sadly my poor friend thought it was gonna be one of those girly bonding nights were we did each other's toes and gossiped and watched tv. TV watching check! Gossip , whatcha know? Me touching someone else's feet? What you talkin' bout Willis? Once again I don't touch feet. After she finished laughing like a hyena we were able to get past it. Once the Lakeview Critic fell asleep on my couch and I wouldn't even touch her feet to take off her shoes. I just put a blanket on her to keep her warm. Ultimately it was a fun night we just both did our own thing. Also I made sure to give her a list ahead of time because I don't share foot stuff. Now she knows how to do it herself and will probably do it without me from now on. Personally I think that's how it should be.

We're Fugitives!

As I type this Mr. Bunny and I are ashamed to show our face in the neighborhood. I should say, I'm ashamed, Mr. Bunny is feeling no shame! So in my neighborhood Mr. Bunny is famous. First of all he is the only bunny on the block and I take him for walks on a leash. All the little kids love to come and pet him. He has stopped traffic on numerous occasions. For the past three years I've been loaning him out a few weeks before Easter to take pictures with my neighbor's children to send to their Grandma. Well what I've known all along and what my neighbors recently found out is Mr. Bunny has a darkside!! **gasp** He likes to attack other animals occasionally. He has never bitten a human as far as I know. He did try to pee on my ex-boyfriend the first time he met him. That was not only funny it turned out to be foreshadowing. Mr Bunny is still here almost-pee'd on boyfriend.. no longer around. You do the reasoning. He also attacked a friend's small dog. I am pretty sure this was done out of jealousy, because I was playing with the puppy. Once Mr. Bunny and I almost got "handled" by the Nation Guard. Don't have time to tell that story just know that it ends with me telling the machine-gun carrying guardsmen that "Me and Mr. Bunny are free Americans and can walk wherever we want", then picking up my fellow free American bunny and running like the hounds of hell were after us. Ahh good times. So this brings us to the reason for our fugitive state.
On Monday I was walking Mr. Bunny in the neighborhood when the previously mentioned neighbor-children came running up. They stopped to pet him as usual and the little girl even ran inside to get him a grape. She loves to feed him and he loves to eat it.. win-win situation. So the little boy brings over their brand new kitten. A really cute little black kitty that looks like it weighs about 2-3 lbs. I love cats so I make the appropriate oohs and ahhs. The kitty really is adorable. I should also mention that it was a really nice evening with a breeze and most of my neighbors were out in their yards. I don't know about other neighborhoods but it seems my neighbors like to be out in their yards with an alcoholic beverage in hand. Back to the story. The little boy puts the kitten on the grass in front of Mr. Bunny so he can meet it. Mr Bunny out of the blue lets out a "Rebel Yell" and attacks. (Most people would be shocked to learn that when appropriately pissed rabbits can growl. Not often and not usually but it is possible.) I was not paying attention so I dropped his leash. The poor kitten is running for her life and hissing as only felines can. Now I have take off at a mad dash to catch up to Mr. Bunny who has given chase. I barely caught him and that was only because he still had the leash trailing behind him. When I finally capture him and pick his protesting-ass up I'm winded and very embarrassed. My slightly tipsy across the street neighbor says in his thoroughly middle-class way "Look at that rabbit. It's like an attack rabbit!" At this point I'm trying not to make eye contact with anyone and pretending I don't hear the little girl asking her mom why Mr. Bunny was mean to "the baby kitty!" So now me and my attack bunny are hiding out. I'll take him for another walk this weekend but probably in the backyard or on another street.

Fat Necked Girl, Let Me Count Your Neck Rings

I need a hat.  Not just any hat I need a large go to the Kentucky Derby hat.  I am not going to the Derby, but I am heading to the fairgrounds here in New Orleans.  This should be big fun.  I'm getting together with my Muses float members on Sunday.  The fourth race of the day will be named for us and we have a reserved party room and buffet.  It's been a while since I played the ponies.  I'm excited.  I already have my dress picked out and matching shoes now I need the hat.  I was supposed to have gottten the hat 2 weeks ago and decorated it.  I have to do it all tomorrow.  My dress is pretty cute.  The print is zebra stripe but in brown and khaki or brown and cream.  So it looks more safari than zebra.  I like it.  I'll keep you posted on how it comes out.

In a totally unrelated but mad funny topic. I watched 30 Rock last night and heard my new most favorite song lyric ever.  Tracey Morgan sang it last night. It went something like this "Fat necked girl, let me count your neck rings!"  OMG I choked because I was laughing so hard.  So that has been in my head all day today.  On the way to the cafeteria I was behind a man with sausage rolls behind his head that made me convulse in giggles once again.  Ahh.. this week has been very crappy but these two things brightened my day considerably.  So when you find yourself having a hard time or horrendus day and need a little pick me up.  Quietly hum "fat necked girl, let me count your neck rings" and I guarantee you will feel better.  Another tactic is to watch people interacting in public and imagine them singing that to each other.  I'm giggling as I write this.