Sunday, November 18, 2012

Random Thoughts That Meander through My Brain a.k.a. Why I am Always Tired

   These are just some of the things that keep me up at night:

   1) Kudos

   The dictionary defines kudos as an honor or glory. It also stipulates that 'kudos' is considered the plural, while 'kudo' is considered the singular. A thing which my spell-check is currently objecting to, as apparently neither Miriam nor Webster has alerted it of this word's existence. Of this, I am not surprised, because I cannot recall in my lifetime having ever heard anyone utilize 'kudo' in any fashion, only 'kudos.'

   ie: Congratulations, George! Great job on building that stellar pyramid out of soup cans! And look at that replica of the Sphinx hovering right next to it! So realistic! And you made that out of Ramen noodles? Way to be resourceful! Kudos!

   Soooooo, as an alternative, I offer the following: Yo, George, nice job setting out that tomato soup can. And the Ramen noodles package right beside? Nice touch. Kudo…


   2) Plurals

   If the plural of cactus is cacti, and the plural of octopus is octopi, doesn't it stand to reason that the plural of sourpuss should be sourpi? And for that matter, pusses (get your minds out of the gutter folks- I mean cats, as in Puss in Boots a.k.a. Cat in Heavy-Duty Footgear), be pi? As in: Oh look! The Crazy Cat Lady has a passel of pi! Of course, that might just confuse folks. Does she in fact have a surplus number of mathematical equations, or simply an overflow of tasty desserts? Just one more thing to keep me awake at night…

   3) Bear Slide

   Is it just me that lies awake at night and wonders why Bear Slide is the name of a golf course (BORING) instead of a jolly, fun park for post-hibernatory bears? (Yeah, I know 'hibernatory' is not a word- deal with it- I make crap up all the time. If this annoys you, well then we are just not going to get along, now are we?) But the thought of all those bears frolicking in some woodsy atmosphere replete with waterslides and honey stands makes me smile and giggle a little bit. (Who doesn't smile at frolicking bears? My husband will tell you they are rampaging, but I disagree, bears are quite capable of gamboling and cavorting, same as the next guy.) On the other hand, the thought of old men in plaid pants/shorts smacking around a tiny, defenseless ball with a steel club makes me want to snore. Come to think of it, maybe I should be thinking about that…

   4) Stewing Over Signage

   Does anyone besides me spend hours stewing over various signage (usually handwritten) and feel the need to correct it in some manner? I believe I could make a grand career out of cat-burgling for the sole purpose of proofreading. I would be a Corrective Cat-Burglar, if you will. If I got a partner (thereby making it two cats- tada- we have Pi!!) we could be the Powerful Pi Proofers. Or I might decide to remain a solo-operation and go with the Revising Renegade. Whatever, I'm not sleeping; I've got plenty of time to sew up the costume.

   At any rate, it's usually grammatical errors and misspellings that bother me, but today it was something entirely different. While on the way to the local farmer's market (well, maybe not so local in that it is a forty minute drive from my house, but I digress…) I spotted a giant chalkboard sign advertising said farmer's market. The idea behind the sign was that it had two messages, the first being: Shaved ham available now. The second: Woo-hoo! We are still open! The problem was that the billboard scribbler had decided to make the two announcements side by side, with the first on the left and the second on the right. So as I was speeding (disclaimer to any law officials who may be reading this blog- I was not speeding- I never speed- I was obeying the properly posted speed limit signs to the letter- or, in this case, to the  number). Anyway, where was I? Oh, so as I was moving down the highway at a brusque pace, though not so much as one mile faster than the speed designated safe by the highway patrol and all its counterparts, I read the sign thusly: Shaved Woo-hoo! Ham we are now still open!

   Huh???

   Naturally, my SD (step-daughter), who was along for the ride, had some objection to entering the store if I were going to make the announcement that we were there to have our woo-hoos shaved. So I didn't.

   But I wanted to.

   5) What Are People Thinking?

   I have at least once before touched on the pits and perils of navigating the world of customer service in this area. I have had some experiences that made me go- What? Huh? Did this Really Just Happen? (Thus the name of the blog.) Recently, a friend of mine who was working register at a local supermarket, told me a male customer had come through her lane, remarked upon her prematurely graying hair, and followed it up with the comment, "I would never let my wife out of the house looking like that. She would have to dye her hair."

   Really?

   Really?!

   What makes you such a premium catch? Your suave manners? I think not.

   To me, there are so many things wrong with this declaration I can't even begin to enumerate them. But let me say just one thing (aside from the obvious fact that you are one rude dude to comment on someone's physical appearance- especially given that you don't even KNOW her), this whole, 'I would never let my wife out,' LET my wife out- LET??? Man, one day you're going to get home after a hard day's work and your wife is gonna choke you with that chain you used to shackle her ankle to the oven. And I hope it makes it onYou Tube. We'll see how you feel about 'letting her out' then...

   This is only a small sampling of the thoughts that enter my brain at any given moment. Is it any wonder that nearly every conversation with me ends in confusion for all parties involved? Everything I see and hear grabs my attention and I am like a kid with severe ADHD on Ritalin withdrawal.

   And now you know, in case you ever wondered, why I am always tired- which reminds me, I need to put air in my tires. No wait, I already did that. That's when I met the couple who had just hit a deer and watched the guy trek back and forth four times across the highway to fill his truck with diesel and gas 'cause he ran out less than fifty feet from the gas station.

   Hey? Did I ever tell you about the time…?






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