The Life and Times of Florence Knitingale

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Dumb Stuff People Say

Other people, I mean. Not cool people like us. Never people like us.

But before I get to the dumb stuff, I was moved to laughter and tears reading my comments today. Wasn't it Dolly Parton who said that "laughter through tears is my favorite emotion"? (Rhetorical question--I could recite "Steel Magnolias" from start to finish, so much do I love that movie--just another of my deep, dark secrets.) You guys are all so sweet and so supportive and I'm beyond thrilled that you enjoy my many peculiar meanderings. I do love to write and, while I've only published articles and poetry in the past (very dull articles, I assure you), I may have to consider a book. After all, how fair can it be to deprive the world of "How I Boinked a Wombat for the CIA and Lost 150 Pounds for Cash in My Spare Time, With Intro by Monica Lewinsky" (which is unfair, seeing as how Bill Clinton is far more likely to have experience with wombat boinking...but I digress). Kim, Mr. K thinks I should borrow your idea, cut to the chase, and call the book "Wombat Nipples", or maybe "Sweaty Wombat Nipples"--you know, for the pervert audience. Monica, there is room for you in my living room any time....and, should you sit still long enough for Miss to establish a sleeping place, I can assure you that you'll not be allowed to leave any time soon. No need to hide behind the couch, even if she'd let you.

But on to today's topic. I know you know what I mean when I say that people sometimes say dumb stuff. I don't mean the standard brain fart moments like when the boxboy offered to carry out my groceries for me and all I'd purchased was a pound of butter. I figure anyone who has the intelligence of a pack of gum is probably pretty much on autopilot after bagging the 70th bag of groceries, and thus deserves some slack. No, I'm talking about the really dumb things that prick at Ms. K's brain, most especially on a day which started out at 5:00 am with the filling of the table top fountain on the dresser so that it overflowed into her open drawer of gym shorts and she was forced to choose between riding an exercise bike with a damp tushie or a bare one (I chose damp, you'll be pleased to know). Yeah, okay, so dumb thing number one has got to be "It's 5:00 am and I'm barely awake. I think I'll pour water into a strangely shaped bowl in the semi-dark." However, there's also:

"Oh, they won't bother you if you don't bother them." You know what, though? That large, hooved spider swinging around in the laundry room like Tarzan on steroids is bothering me. He's bothering me quite a bit, in fact, and if my walking quietly into the room is what bothered him to start things, then he's far too sensitive and deserves to be swatted into oblivion with Mr. K's slipper. Same thing with the bees. The fuzzy little buggers seem to be engaged in a perpetual game of chicken with me, which always ends with them flying away with self-satisfied smirks, chanting "Madeja flinch!" (I know, you always thought they just buzzed, didn't you? Not so. It just takes a certain brand of crazy to translate their language.)

"This might be a bit uncomfortable." This is always uttered by a doctor and it is always a filthy lie. I know uncomfortable. Uncomfortable is when I get into bed and the sheets get tangled and I can't move my feet where I want them. Uncomfortable is when I sit on my foot while I'm knitting and my toes go to sleep. Uncomfortable is NOT when any item of any sort is introduced into any part of my body via any means whatsoever. This is doubly true of sharp, pointy things.

"You can't miss it." First, I most assuredly CAN miss it, even if it's right across the street, my car is parked in its parking lot, I used to visit a friend there every third Thursday, and I wrote a report on it in high school (I'm a bit directionally challenged. And memory challenged. It's a bit of a.....well, challenge) . Secondly, this phrase nearly always follows something helpful like "then you turn west...no, east.....well, towards the old barn that burnt down three summers ago, then you drive a fair way and then turn right past where the old Gas n Go used to be, go three miles--no, four, four miles, and it's right next to the old Elkins place. Wait, did I mention the left turn at the Post Office?" I completely missed everything you just said....why would you think I couldn't miss a building that is apparently located in outer Buffalo Stomp?

"Don't worry--he's very sweet and gentle." Problem with this is that the person uttering it is always holding a straining leash, the business end of which is always occupied by a snarling, snapping, growling, foaming monster who is looking at me as though I were a rump roast. I'm not sure what you mean by "sweet and gentle", but if it's that he'll say grace before he eats me, I'm not much comforted.

"No offense, but..." . Look, this is not the middle ages, when you could buy forgiveness for your sins from the church before you committed them, and I am most certainly not as patient as the pope of the time. And my experience is that 90% of the time (or more) this phrase is followed by something VERY offensive. "No offense, but you're a big, fat, booger." See? It doesn't work, does it? Or "Not to be mean or anything, but I've always thought you were an arrogant ass." Anyone fooled? Anyone?

"Can you keep a secret?" Well...you apparently can't. So where are we going with this?

"To be perfectly honest..." (and I"ll admit right here and now that I'm guilty of this one, even knowing that it's dumb). And the rest of the time you are......?

Oh, good, I have a new one to add: "I think I'll take a quick break from blogging to go stir the cheesey potato soup....while wearing my favorite black fleece jacket with the University of Washington Medicine logo. Yeah, that's a REALLY dumb one.

I think I'll go scrub my jacket. You smarter folk just knit on.

6 Comments:

  • At 9:14 PM, Blogger Kit said…

    Uncomfortable is NOT when any item of any sort is introduced into any part of my body via any means whatsoever. This is doubly true of sharp, pointy things.

    I thought you were going to mention a rectal thermometer. I'd take sharp pointy things over anything rectally inserted. That spot is clearly marked "EXIT ONLY", nothing should ever go in there.

     
  • At 7:22 AM, Blogger Marianne said…

    I bumped into the little group of spiders in MY shed, they handed me a little box full of tiny little tap shoes...spider hoof size... they told me to post it to you, apparently my spiders and your spiders have been emailing each other....first it was Ed and Smooch, now the spiders?

     
  • At 12:29 PM, Anonymous marti said…

    you crack me up. smarter knitters? i doubt that i will get anywhere close to your level of intellegence, but then i tend to excell in the fine art of tenacity instead.

    and you think that your cats are nuts? go take a peek at mine. i think that she is certifiable.

     
  • At 3:42 AM, Anonymous MonicaPDX said…

    Bless you, Flo - if I ever get up in your neck of the woods, I'll probably be asking you to show me your living room. ;) Hey, Miss and I should get along great. I'm really really good at sitting in one spot! And auto-petting while talking, reading, watching TV, eating, falling asleep, or - well, just sitting. (Not while knitting, alas. But I'd like to learn. *sigh*) It might have been ages since I was owned by a cat, but I don't think you lose the skill.

    Dumb things - ROFL! Y'know what I consider one of the dumbest statements on earth? "If you'd just do 15 minutes a day, you could get it under control! It's easy!"

    This usually is used in reference to housework when said to me, but y'know what? No. No, it wouldn't get under control. Bet me, I always want to say. (Ok, really I wanna say bite me, but I was raised to be too damned nice. [g]) And it ain't easy. It's a never-ending, tedious necessity, and if these people were truthful, they'd realize that it's 15 minutes a day every day for the rest of their life, plus usually more, and that is not under control. That's a life sentence.

    Besides, they've forgotten things like laundry in that 15 minutes. That isn't housework? When was the last time you did even one load of laundry - sort, zap stains, wash, dry, fold, possibly iron, and put away - in 15 minutes?

    Bah. ;) I'll tell you what, they can come over and do an extra 15 minutes a day over at my place, and I'll happily watch them try to prove how under control things will be. Heheheheheh.

     
  • At 8:08 AM, Blogger Dana said…

    LOL...What you wrote is sooooo true. Have a great weekend!

     
  • At 2:21 AM, Anonymous angie Cox said…

    KIt darling I have to direct you to my blog if you want to read a rather amusing story about exits etc .I don't want to add it here in case it offends anyone .

     

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