Back To Zero

One of the many reasons I hate driving is because of all the accidents I have had (although, as far as my insurance company is concerned, I have had NONE). I think it is about five in Denver and five in Vegas. The latest was last week. I’m not going to go into details (because details make it harder to be in denial) but whenever I do have an accident it makes me question my atheism. I mean, I am never going to describe myself as a believer, and on official documentation and Facebook, I list myself as an atheist. However, if a gun was held to my head, I might cop to being an agnostic, but nothing beyond that (unless the gun was held to Sammy’s head and then I would say whatever it is you wanted me to say). Anyway, so, there I am, happily driving along for a few months without an accident and my confidence slowly rises and I start to think that, hmm, maybe I will finally drive to that casino in Vegas and spend the $40 gift card I’ve had for two years now; or maybe I will meet some friends for lunch in the Green Valley area; and then, crash, bang, wallop, I have an accident. And my confidence goes back to zero. But here is where I question my belief system: what if I do have a higher power and It knows that driving could be my downfall and It wants to protect me so when It senses my confidence rising, pow! It puts a bicyclist in front of me to knock the confidence out of me? That “what if?” and many like it are the reasons I cannot fully commit to atheism (but don’t tell the Facebook people that).

Idol Thoughts, 12-2

Hollywood Week is, I think, my favorite part of Idol and I like how they’re changing it up a bit this time, separating the boys and the girls and choosing their groups for them (although if I were in charge, I would have had to put Speech Impediment Guy in the same group as Stuttering Stanley, I just could not have resisted doing that). I liked Nicki’s comments about Shorty McShorterson’s “pity party” but I do wonder how she will react to the Contestant-with-the-Sob-Story because every year they put someone like that through (right, Chris Medina and Danny Gokey?). I am really surprised they did not put Father Fruit through (OK, OK, it is Papa Peachez but I think mine is a better name for him) because he would be the Lightning-Rod-for-Controversy-Contestant (and there is always one of those, too, right, Nick Mitchell and Sanjaya Malahar?) But maybe they are saving that role for the RuPaul wannabe – notice how they haven’t ever (to my knowledge) shown him sing, just prancing around in his pretty costumes?

I Saw A Movie! In The Theatre!

Oh yes, another posting about a banal matter – but, really, stick with me and you’ll understand why it is very important for me to write about my recent movie-going experience.

Easily the biggest difference in my Colorado life verses my Vegas life (apart from Sammy) is my movie-going. I’ll dig out the spreadsheets one day to confirm this number (yeah, you knew there’d be spreadsheets, right?!) but back in the day in Boulder and Denver I averaged about 40 movies a year (and that was just ones in the cinema). (I peaked in 2001 with 62!)

Since I moved to Vegas, my average has plummeted to about two a year. (I’ve joined Netflix to make up for it.) And there is just one reason and one reason only why I no longer go to the movies – my illogical, un-American fear/hatred of driving. In Boulder and Denver I lived within walking distance of several movie theatres. Irony alert: The second place I lived in in Vegas was within walking distance of a mall – one of the few malls in America without a movie theatre inside it. Double irony alert: I now live within walking distance of a casino – one of the few casinos in Las Vegas without a movie theatre in it. So effing typical.

Anyway, there was nothing particularly remarkable about this recent movie visit except that I saw Skyfall, a movie starring not one, not two, but THREE of my future ex-husbands: Mr. Daniel Craig, Mr. Ralph Fiennes and Señor Javier Bardem.

I Got Carded!

I know most of you know I have the most boring life in the world and so would expect such a mundane subject matter as a posting, but I am not that desperate for postings (yet). No, the reason why this carding was extra special was because it was the first time since my birthday, earlier in the month when I turned ?? (way over the legal drinking age). And the first time I am carded after a birthday is always extra special.

And actually, I was carded three times in eight days! Once at a bar I frequent (but with a new bartender), the next day at a liquor store I’d never been in before, and then at Wal-Mart on Saturday. (And I had a witness to the second occurrence if no one believes me.)

The Weekend of the Bitches

Holy crap, it was bitch central this weekend.

First off, on Friday night, I berated the guy at the deli counter in Von’s because there was a 25-minute wait for rotisserie chickens. “It’s dinner time – you should plan better,” I said and walked off in a huff, leaving my cart right in front of the deli counter (there were only a few items in it).

Then, on Saturday, O. and I went shopping. At the dollar store, I am about to leave my cart in the parking space right next to O.’s car (I know, but I was feeling lazy and there were plenty of parking spaces) when I heard a beep and saw that someone was pulling into that space. So I (very slowly) walked the cart over to the corral. Walking back, I saw that the beeping bitch was still sat in her car, so I stood outside O.’s car thereby blocking the beeping bitch from getting out of her car. It wasn’t that long, but long enough for her to know what I was doing.

Then, in the liquor store, I sampled some red wine and asked the chick giving out the samples if I could keep the glass (it was so cute, a little tasting-size wine glass). She said no and I asked if they sold them and she said something about checking out the glass wear aisle. I am about to put the glass down on the dirty glass tray that I had seen earlier when another customer got in my way so I had to walk around him to get there. Of course, to the wine bitch it looked like I was walking away and so she said rather pointedly, “You can leave your glass over there.” “Uh, I’m trying to,” I say.

Then, at Sweet Tomatoes the line was huge and took so long. The couple in front of us had two plates each on their trays and were filling up those little sample-size paper cups with EVERY dressing available. So we get to the front and I didn’t see the “wait to be seated” sign so I went in front of this couple. When someone pointed out the sign, I go back in line but said to the guy that it was taking so long because of the two plates deal. And that, “You can go back, you know.”  He said that you couldn’t (does anyone know for sure? I always thought you could.  I mean, I go back to the baked potato area several times, but I’ve never wanted to go back to the salad part.) Anyway, then the guy said something about how exhausting it must be being a bitch all the time. When I replied, “It has its moments,” he could not help but laugh and the ice was broken and I said, “You really can’t go back a second time?” and we were cool.

Then, this is the pièce de résistance, we go to the Thrifty ice cream store to get dessert and pick up some ice cream for O.’s husband. Well, we get there and there are about 10 adults and kids at the counter, they are all members of the same family and they are all paying separately and every one of them seemed to order something with at least 12 components and well, there was a lot of eye-rolling going on between me and O. Plus there was only one server. But, after my Sweet Tomatoes confrontation, I was trying to go with the flow. O., on the other hand, not so much. In fact, it must have been pretty bad because one of the family members was this blind chick and when it came to her turn, she said we could go ahead because it was obvious we were annoyed and getting impatient. Holy crap, it must have been bad if a blind chick could tell there were issues!

I know, bad right? I’ve got to be more careful, because like O. pointed out about the dollar store beeper, she was younger than me and more ethnic, and then there are all those guns being carried around these days. Plus, I have to keep reminding myself that it is not someone else’s fault my life revolves around food and the poor deli guy had no way of knowing I had planned my entire weekend of meals around that chicken and the guy in Sweet Tomatoes didn’t know that I live for buffets.

But it all worked out in the end, because the Universe made sure I got paid back: one of the items I got at the dollar store was broken and I had a major oops I crapped my pants moment on the way home.