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Monday, August 26, 2002
Strange Bruise
Same bruise, different day. My boss asked me if there was a history of hemophilia in my family. Only males were affected, I thought, although women are the carriers. Perhaps I'm related to the what is it -- British? Russian? -- royal family and didn't know it! Come to think of it, my dad does like to call me "Princess"...
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
7:38 PM
Holy Ecchymosis!
Friend Beth and I were talking the other day about bruises that we both seem to get in the same respective spots with no clue as to how they got there. Beth always gets one on her right upper arm; I often find purply spots the size of a quarter on either wrist. The current one -- right wrist -- had healed to the more-yellow-than-green stage when we had the conversation, yet I woke up this morning to find it renewed to the telltale eggplant hue of a fresh bruise. I have NO idea what causes these. Since the prior bruise was still tender I'm pretty sure I would have remembered whacking it again. Or pressing a quarter into it.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
8:05 PM
I can smell my eyeballs
You heard me. Yesterday morning I rinsed off my contacts after enzyme-cleaning them overnight and inserted them per usual. It had been a while since I had used the cleaner stuff so its chemical smell struck me extra pungeant-like as I fished my lenses out of the little plastic soaking vials. Even though I gave each lens a thorough saline solution rinse and my hands a thorough soap-and-water wash afterwards, I kept catching whiffs all day long of the enzyme cleaner, even when my hands were not near my face. It reminded me of the way the chem lab in college smelled. Conclusion: I must have been smelling cleaner residue on my lenses (I must not have been as thorough with the saline solution as I thought), ergo I was smelling my eyeballs. Which is all very well and good; I just never want to taste them.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
8:53 PM
From here to éternuer
Don't know if it was caused by dust from slow-selling merchandise or what, but I had a sneezing fit in the drugstore this afternoon -- if three quick sneezes qualify as a "fit." I like to think that my sneezes are more ladylike sibilant exhalations than sudden, loud and violent WAAAAH-CHOOs, but it's in the ear of the beholder apparently. No one else was in the housewares aisle at the time but from over the top of the shelves came a disembodied "God bless you!" I said "Thanks!" but the blesser evidently didn't hear me because the next thing I heard was "Oh, that wasn't you, sir?" followed a moment later by "Oh, it was you," this last directed at me from just a few feet away. The blesser was an older lady who had come around the corner to find me dabbing at my nose with a tissue. She continued, "I thought it was that man over there who sneezed, but he said it wasn't him."
Sigh. So much for "ladylike."
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
11:19 PM
Call me easily amused, but...
I got a giggle out of the fact that my condo association newsletter informs me with a straight face that "dog fecal matter is the #2-top contaminant in Four Mile Run." It neglects to name the #1-top contaminant in the stream that runs parallel to the property, but I might venture a guess that it's discarded condo association newsletters.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:34 PM
I don't think that word means what you think it means
A need for something sweet sent me to the snack bar after lunch. I had no specific craving other than "sweet" so I browsed the candy rack in search of inspiration. Nothing jumped out at me, although I noticed a new-ish display of "Extreme Pops". Extreme? They came in shapes that included a flower and -- are you sitting down? -- a ladybug! Extremely lame, maybe. Me, I settled for a chocolate chunck (sic) cookie from the bakery display. That extra "c" was all the extreme I could take today.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:32 PM
A Junior Senior Moment, One in a Series
I had a short yet nicely pithy entry composed in my head yet in the time it took to log on to Blogger (we're talking 5 seconds, 10 seconds max) I forgot it completely. Com. Plete. Ly. In my defense, I am listening to music on the compter headphones and keeping an eye on Malcolm in the Middle on the TV across the room. Note to self: jot it down on paper, woman, jot it down!
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:54 PM
Subterranean Carpark Blues
Many folks who park at the underground garage at Stafford Place seem to think that the "ONE WAY / DO NOT ENTER" sign marking the lane reserved for exiting traffic doesn't apply to them, but one special person took the cake this morning. He/she spotted a spot just beyond the above-quoted sign and stopped suddenly, glared at me in the rear view mirror for having the temerity to be partially blocking access to the illegal turn, and backed up ever so slowly until there was just enough room to squeeze in. I couldn't back up because cars were starting to line up behind me. He/she probably also glared at the person who was so self-absorbed that they were traveling in the correct direction in that narrow lane on their way out. Any time saved by not driving around the loop in the designated direction and grabbing the spot was negated by the time it took for all the glaring and the backing up. Any fuel conserved was negated by the fuel burned by the rest of us as we sat and idled. When I was finally able to proceed I went around the loop and found a spot 3 steps away from the elevator lobby door.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:14 PM
Things that make you go "Whaaa...?"
Another tale from the grocery store checkout. This one involves a 50-something Asian woman in line in front of me. (Her race is in no way relevant to the story, only I'm visually oriented and am trying to paint a verbal picture here, ok?) (And the Asian/visusally oriented thing was unintentional. I caught it just now on re-read.) Her cart was full to overflowing with the following: 32 half-gallon bottles of grape juice, easily a half-dozen multipacks of boxed facial tissue, a like number of extra-large jars of spaghetti sauce, two cases of Diet Snapple and 2 bottles of Scope mouthwash. I helped her unload some of the stuff she couldn't reach from the bottom of the cart since she was already trapped in the checkout chute. That entitled me to make an enquiry I thought, so I said "Wow, does someone have a really bad cold?" but she either didn't hear me or pretended not to. I didn't press the issue. It's more fun to speculate.
For example, I read in a cooking magazine about a spaghetti sauce recipe that called for a tablespoon or two of grape jam, which supposedly gives the tomatoes some sort of flavor boost. That explains the juice and jars of sauce. You need something to drink with your pasta, which is calorie-laden enough to dictate a sugar-free beverage -- the Snapple. Spicy food makes your nose run so there's the tissues accounted for. The above combination is enough to leave you with some evil breath, hence the Scope. QED.
The real mystery is that by my count she only had 5 items in the cart. Why she didn't avail herself of the Express Lane is beyond me.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:14 PM
John Cool
It's just been Home Improvement weekend around here, on a small scale anyway. The heat pump drama was compounded ever so slightly by a broken toilet flap. You know, that rubber stopper thingy that lifts up when you flush then clamps down on the hole in the bottom of the tank after the bowl has emptied? I had installed it myself over a year ago when the previous one disintigrated and no matter how much I futzed with it, and in spite of the package's assurance that it would "Fit All Models" the thing would never clamp down with a tight enough seal. After flushing you were obliged to lift the lid off the tank and push it in place yourself. Did it occur to me to go out and buy another flapper (retail price well under $5.00)? Heck no. I just fell into the habit of Flush, Lift Lid, Push Flapper, Replace Lid. No problem. Until yesterday, when the plastic chain that connects the flap to the flush handle broke. So I obtained and installed a new flapper, different brand than before and bright red to boot. Result: perfect flush every time. I have caught myself once or twice reaching automatically for the tank lid post-flush. Habit.
Only thing is that before, I felt every Lift and Replace Lid operation in my stomach muscles. I swear, I was only a few thousand more flushes away from washroom abs!
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:04 PM
Joe Cool
Ladies and Gentlemen, let's hear it for Joe McIntosh! Bless his heart, he made a weekend service call and got my A/C back up and running promptly. As usual, he impressed me with his Southern gentlemanly courtesy and refusal to overcharge for his vital services. He also pretended to believe me when I said I had cleaned out the indoor filter "a few weeks ago" when in fact I did it in a quick hurry this morning after he called to say he was on his way. The dust in my hair probably tipped him off.
The mechanical problem turned out to be caused by an errant earwig that blundered into a critical part of the heat pump's outside unit. Justice was swift in the form of an instant death penalty for the little buggy and a hot sweaty night (not the good kind) for me for my laxity in taking preventative measures. In the 10 years I've lived in this condo I've lost a few heat pump parts (and parted with a few dollars) because of insect wildlife. When I think of it I sprinkle baking soda around the base of the heat pump unit. Time to do it again, I guess. I might also put up a teeny tiny NO TRESPASSING / DANGER, HIGH VOLTAGE sign.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
1:27 PM
I'm melting... melting!
Not in a good way. I came home from work tonight to a hot house and two resentful cats -- the A/C was blowing warm air and from the feel of things had been for most of the day. Of course, it's Friday and not much chance that the repair human will make it around until Monday. Heavy sigh. Hot, heavy sigh.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:23 PM
Eucalyptus Now
My bout with the flu or whatever it was several weeks ago has left me with a lingering dry, irritating cough. Irritating to me and anyone who has to be around me. The cough is especially prevalent in the morning so I have started popping one of the cough drops I finally thought to buy into my mouth on my way to work. This has helped make both my throat and my co-workers less irritated, but my morning habit of singing along with the car radio puts me in danger of choking. Oh, well. Either way, that cough will soon be history.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
1:52 PM