Trash: The Theme of the Week.

Talkin' Trash

Today the adult son of my next door neighbor commented upon how rich I must be to use my preferred brand of laundry detergent. Now I know Tide with Downy isn't quite as cheap as Gator Suds but the real question is, how did he know what kind of laundry soap I use in the first place? Proudly he explained that he rummages through the neighborhood trash each Sunday night looking for things to sell on Ebay.

Well,what more can you expect from a man who's divorce settlement included a bar tab.


He went down his mental list of all the things he has scavenged the past few months including two computer monitors he was able to repair, some "vintage" board games and four or five bags of clothing. (Those I suspect were left out for last month's annual clothing drive for the poor but whatever).

The trick is, I was informed, to open the bags inside the trash cans because most pickers overlook that.

I find this behaviour a bit creepy. I never considered myself possessive regarding my trash but somehow someone going through my collection of egg shells and snot rags skeeves me out a tad. I don't mind if someone drives by and picks up stuff by the curb..as a matter of fact, I furnished my first college apartment by that very method... but I disapprove of the opening up of garbage pails and the bags within looking for treasures.

So I ask this, my friends...when do you consider your trash a free for all for people to do what they will and take what they want?

Vacation Again?

I didn't mention that I was going on vacation yet again. You kids are worse than my employees ragging me on always taking time off to go hither tither and yon. The difference is my leaving them is actually a cause for celebration. Not once has any of my fine staff mentioned that they would rather I stay because they miss my soft fluttering voice and mild manner ways when I am absent.

You folks inquire about my potential demise at the hands of SCM when I disappear which although a tad macabre is most appreciated.

Currently I am on Marcos Island for the week. Unfortunately when I packed I neglected to include Hurricane gear which would have come in very handy. Although not technically a hurricane with one of those benign sounding names that still manage to kick the shit out of anything in their path, it is still very windy and by no means beach weather.

As you can see from the photos, I don't think the pool chairs were gingerly placed in the bushes in the event some nature lover felt the need to bond with the lizards and other tropical creatures.

The sun is out this morning and we are going to try to battle the 20 mile per hour wind gusts in an attempt to fight our way to the gulf front. We are nothing if not persistent.

Vinomom made this comment on my last blog post.

Funny that you describe yourself as overly optimistic. I haven't been reading your blog long but would probably not describe you that way

I started to respond in the comments and thought...well, fuck, this is MY blog so I can bore the entire blogging community with my bullshit.

IRL I am optimistic to the point of getting myself in a lot of shit because of it. I always think good is going to happen and I have to be practically beaten over the head to admit someone I trusted was a bad person or even did a bad thing. I forgive everybody but more, I totally forget. That also gets me in trouble since the past does have a way of coming around again like a circle. I believe that sometimes you need to yell and get stuff out of your system rather than pick at the scab for days, months or years.

I like to think people are inheritently good and try to be kind. I believe happiness and humor are as contagious as the flu and it takes far too much effort to be sad for long.

Maybe much of this isn't reflected in my writing of my blog. Actually, it is more satire than anything else. I use it to laugh at myself and others. It is an outlet for my creativity and allows me to mock the absurdity of the world in general.

To sum it up, I consider myself definitely a glass half full type of person.

Breaking Free of the Past?

I shared this story with a friend very dear to my heart today and I thought I would give you all something to think about too.


I family is moving to a new town because Dad got transferred. They pack their belongings and head out in the car. About five miles outside the new town, they stop for gas. The father asks the attendant how the people are in the new town.

The attendant asks "How were the people in your old town?"

The father replies. "We had the most wonderful neighbors, they were kind, considerate, everyone helped each other out in bad times. We just loved it there."

The attendant says "Well, then you're in luck. You'll find the exact same type of people in our town."

Shortly after another family pulls up. Coincidentally they are also relocating and asked the same question.

The attendant asks "How were the people in your old town?"

The father replies. "Oh, our neighbors were horrible. They were loud, always bothering us for one reason or another. In short we disliked them all."

The attendant says "Well, I am sorry to tell you this, but you'll find the exact same type of people in our town."

How does one overcome the attitudes that hold one back from happiness? Is the past destined to remain a chain that is dragged from situation to situation?

What do you think?

How True.

One day a florist went to a barber for a haircut.

After the cut, he asked about his bill, and the barber replied, ‘I cannot accept money from you, I’m doing community service this week.’ The florist was pleased and left the shop.

When the barber went to open his shop the next morning, there was a ‘thank you’ card and a dozen roses waiting for him at his door.

Later, a cop comes in for a haircut, and when he tries to pay his bill, the barber again replied, ‘I cannot accept money from you , I’m doing community service this week.’ The cop was happy and left the shop.

The next morning when the barber went to open up, there was a ‘thank you’ card and a dozen donuts waiting for him at his door.

Then a Congressman came in for a haircut, and when he went to pay his bill, the barber again replied, ‘I can not accept money from you. I’m doing community service this week.’ The Congressman was very happy and left the shop.

The next morning, when the barber went to open up, there were a dozen Congressmen lined up waiting for a free haircut.

And that, my friends, illustrates the fundamental difference between the citizens of our country and the politicians who run it.

Bourbon and Vicodin

Do you think it was bad that I okayed the Banana kid to go sleep over a friend's instead of hangin' with Stinky Cheese Man for Father's Day?

Yeah...thought so...

Well, I did manage to steal one of those free gifts for him that the office suppliers give me for spending a bigazzlion dollars a year on pencils and post it notes.

Aren't I a helluva gal?

Do you think I have to wrap it? I wonder if I can use one of those Princess Jasmine holders that I filled with useless crap for the Banana's goody bags at this year's birthday gala.

I was even contemplating getting him a card but the "I Hate You But Thanks For the Sperm so I Could Gestate the Most Awesome Kid in the World" cards were all taken. Just my luck.

I did manage to come up with a gift for MY most awesome Dad. I pinned him down and said if he doesn't come up with something he is going to have to have lunch with all three of his kids at the restaurant of his choice.

He handed me an ad from the bass fishing place for a rod hanger the very next day.

Wait... Should I be insulted?

At least it was on sale.

Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody so I think I will make some popcorn (the real stuff, not that microwave fake crap) shove Moonstruck into the DVD player and lament about my many failed relationships.

Either that or take up my friend's vice of Vicodin and Bourbon. Somehow his seems much more fun.

Peace Kids. Catch ya on the flip side.