Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the loss of the season known as summer. Tragically taken from us at the tender age of two weeks, she will be missed by all.
Yesterday was an interesting day. What began as a trip to get supplies for the winter (because that's what it feels like outside these days) ran headon into a roadblock. All because of a chicken salad sandwich. From Hort Timmons. In truth, it's not the sandwich's fault. It was merely trying to be made. Without the trimmings--no lettuce or tomato or miscellaneous assorted other fillings--just chicken salad on brown bread. A simple task. Or so you'd think. Fifteen minutes after said sandwich was ordered and paid for, TCB emerges from the donut shoppe from hell, empty handed. He's seriously pissed off. That really low blood sugar level pissed off. The kind of pissed off that can't be reasoned with. We had a "Hollywood moment" which ended when HRG tossed her head, turned on her heel and set off to slay the sandwich maker. There was no choice, it was that or spend the afternoon IN THE CAR with low blood sugar man. Uh uh. That's a lesson learned long ago.
Here's how it all played out:
(HRG waits patiently in line to learn the fate of the sandwich)
(hrg): "Excuse me? (glances at the clock)
(hrg has shoes older than the teen-something girls behind the counter--and apparently more brain cells)
(girls): "Can we help you?"
(hrg): "Twenty minutes ago we ordered a chicken salad sandwich. Can I ask where the sandwich is?"
(it now involves FOUR staff to stare at a till to verify that the sandwich has indeed been bought and paid for)
(girls): "What did you order?"
(hrg exhales slowly realizing that there are far too many witnesses)
(hrg): "A chicken salad sandwich on brown with nothing on it but the chicken salad, a plain bagel and a low fat cranberry muffin (side note: it sucked big time and is only low-fat because half of it stuck to the f*****g muffin cup it was over-baked in) Can I ask why it would take this long to make a sandwich, or why no one seems to be able to get it right?"
(four, yes, four!! girls look at hrg like she's charlie brown's teacher)
(girls): "Ummmmmm......"
(hrg biting her tongue so hard it will need to be surgically reattached and making a concentrated effort to keep her tone even and quiet--it's a sandwich, no need to make a scene.)
(hrg): "Can you please just make the sandwich? No, nothing on it except the chicken. Just plain. Please."
(one girl slowly moves over to the prep area. once again she asks white or brown, stops and realizes that she doesn't have her gloves on. this process takes two minutes, the hows of putting on a simple pair of gloves are completely lost on her. she is interrupted by another employee, turns her back, ponders a response, has to go over to the iced drink machine, stare at it, shrug and walk away. returning to the sandwich making, she stops, stares at the open bun on the counter like she's forgotten what she was doing. picking up a container, frowning at it's contents, she again moseys along to get more. lines on concentration furrow her very young face, then she stops scooping from the new container, picks up the old one and is about to scrape it's contents onto the sandwich)
(hrg is bleeding from the mouth and is a heartbeat away from foaming
from it)
(hrg): "Please don't do that, I don't think putting the old stuff on top of the new stuff is a good idea. Do you? Would you eat it? I didn't think so."
(the sandwich is at last finished, wrapped and presented to hrg. hrg once again looks at the clock. exactly 25 minutes have passed. hrg emerges from the donut shoppe from hell, hands tcb his meal, waits patiently for the words thank you, realizes that she's not going to hear them, gets in the car and says nothing, which is a good thing because it's a moment, it'll pass--see? I am so learning. so there.)
It's important to point out that absolutely no one apologized for this fiasco. I'd also like to point out that an entire steak dinner can be prepared in the same amount of time it took to put a little bit of pre-made chicken salad between two pieces of bread.
I will never step foot into Hort Timmons again. Although it is nice of the company to hire those with few, if any, brain cells and absolutely no common sense.
Kinda like some of Hrg's ex-boyfriends.
HRG
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Seven Seven Seven
If you're superstitious (and even if you're not), today is considered to be very lucky. Much has been made of the whole triple 7s thing--books written, movies filmed, songs sung........ actually my very favorite song to sing is about it. "Feels like I'm rolling a seven, every time I roll the dice".
For someone very near and dear to HRGs heart, today is a triple seven day with an added bonus--it's his birthday!!! There are presents to open, food and cake to indulge in--there's even a parade in his honor. Of course there would be. He's worth it to more people than he thinks. So to you DTVCB (drum roll here) HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I will be expecting pictures and lots of them at breakfast tomorrow. We're buying. You are definitely worth the $1.99 breakfast spread.
Holidays are winding down now, it's back to work bright and early Monday morning. Know something babies? I'm looking forward to going back. Or rather, I was. Then the forecast for the next seven (hey, there's that number again) days was broadcast and suddenly I'm not "feeling well" for Monday and Tuesday. Y'all know how much HRG loves to worship the sun and warmth. I'm sure an ex-bf or two would liken me to a lizard tho--cold blooded and loves to sleep on the warm rocks in the sun.
The time off has been good for my soul. In spite of the rocky start, it ended nicely. We've explored a bit of the Island, played music and just enjoyed ourselves and each other. We needed it. Big time.
Many odd reappearances have been happening. They leave me scratching my royally groovy head, and yes, there's definitely some hesitation here. Let's just see how it all plays out. Wish me luck tho babies, a happy ending in this case would be beyond fabulous.
For now, I think I'll enjoy the sun. It's been written that "there's really nothing quite so fine as lettin' the sun rejuvenate your mind".
It's true.
HRG
For someone very near and dear to HRGs heart, today is a triple seven day with an added bonus--it's his birthday!!! There are presents to open, food and cake to indulge in--there's even a parade in his honor. Of course there would be. He's worth it to more people than he thinks. So to you DTVCB (drum roll here) HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I will be expecting pictures and lots of them at breakfast tomorrow. We're buying. You are definitely worth the $1.99 breakfast spread.
Holidays are winding down now, it's back to work bright and early Monday morning. Know something babies? I'm looking forward to going back. Or rather, I was. Then the forecast for the next seven (hey, there's that number again) days was broadcast and suddenly I'm not "feeling well" for Monday and Tuesday. Y'all know how much HRG loves to worship the sun and warmth. I'm sure an ex-bf or two would liken me to a lizard tho--cold blooded and loves to sleep on the warm rocks in the sun.
The time off has been good for my soul. In spite of the rocky start, it ended nicely. We've explored a bit of the Island, played music and just enjoyed ourselves and each other. We needed it. Big time.
Many odd reappearances have been happening. They leave me scratching my royally groovy head, and yes, there's definitely some hesitation here. Let's just see how it all plays out. Wish me luck tho babies, a happy ending in this case would be beyond fabulous.
For now, I think I'll enjoy the sun. It's been written that "there's really nothing quite so fine as lettin' the sun rejuvenate your mind".
It's true.
HRG
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Today In History
The sun is shining with the promise of an actual summer day, HRG's spirits are soaring with the promise of the beach. Believe it or not babies, but there are times when I truly am low maintenance. Seriously. Give me the sun, the beach, lake water to cool off in and a very Cute Boy any day!
There are a couple of birthdays that may or may not be worth mentioning today. The birth of Huey Lewis and the birth of the bittiest of beachwear--the bikini.
In honor of the bikini, HRG has hers on, raring to get going. It's always so scary, putting it on for the first time--will the ties on the side look like strings around a roast? Thankfully it looks not half bad, judging by The Cute Boy's reaction. I've been feeling a little less than "groovy" lately, the ego stroke was welcome.
To be honest, I've been a bit of a bitch over the last couple of days. So un-HRG-like. Making it up to The Cute Boy is in order in a big way.
And that's exactly what I'll do.
But first.....to the beach!!!
HRG
There are a couple of birthdays that may or may not be worth mentioning today. The birth of Huey Lewis and the birth of the bittiest of beachwear--the bikini.
In honor of the bikini, HRG has hers on, raring to get going. It's always so scary, putting it on for the first time--will the ties on the side look like strings around a roast? Thankfully it looks not half bad, judging by The Cute Boy's reaction. I've been feeling a little less than "groovy" lately, the ego stroke was welcome.
To be honest, I've been a bit of a bitch over the last couple of days. So un-HRG-like. Making it up to The Cute Boy is in order in a big way.
And that's exactly what I'll do.
But first.....to the beach!!!
HRG
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Happy Birthday Canada
Happy Canada Day my babies! I think we don't look too bad, considering that we're 140 years old today. Still, for a country we're fairly young, maybe we can put off the botox for another two or three hundred years.
As a nation we don't often flag wave or pat ourselves on the back and it would never, never, EVER, occur to us to brag about ourselves. We're quietly smug, like the Brits, only with better teeth. We take for granted where we live, the beauty that surrounds us is merely a part of our everyday lives. We have clean air, clean water (well mostly) and rights and freedoms that so many others are denied. Do we bitch and whine about our government? You bet. Yet in the big picture our high taxes pale in comparison to other countries.
Of course, the question of the day will be what it means to be Canadian. To me it means respect everywhere, from everyone (except one now waning "Superpower"). Travel outside of North America to see that firsthand. I can proudly wear our flag on my jacket without worry. Some flags close doors--with that quiet smugness I can assure you that our flag has most flinging the doors off their hinges, welcoming us with open arms. We are the world's referees. I'm proud of my country's refusal to get involved in what most feel is this generation's Vietnam. We keep the peace, we're not about to start bombing the innocents for oil. We have enough of our own thankyouverymuch. It's something else that separates us from those below the 49th--we make do with what we have, we don't exhaust our supply then turn around and take from someone else.
So today, look around you, breathe in all that fresh clean air and smile, knowing that we do indeed live in the greatest country in the world. No matter what our politics, as a nation we can look at ourselves in the mirror everyday without cringing.
My name is HRG and I am Canadian!
HRG
As a nation we don't often flag wave or pat ourselves on the back and it would never, never, EVER, occur to us to brag about ourselves. We're quietly smug, like the Brits, only with better teeth. We take for granted where we live, the beauty that surrounds us is merely a part of our everyday lives. We have clean air, clean water (well mostly) and rights and freedoms that so many others are denied. Do we bitch and whine about our government? You bet. Yet in the big picture our high taxes pale in comparison to other countries.
Of course, the question of the day will be what it means to be Canadian. To me it means respect everywhere, from everyone (except one now waning "Superpower"). Travel outside of North America to see that firsthand. I can proudly wear our flag on my jacket without worry. Some flags close doors--with that quiet smugness I can assure you that our flag has most flinging the doors off their hinges, welcoming us with open arms. We are the world's referees. I'm proud of my country's refusal to get involved in what most feel is this generation's Vietnam. We keep the peace, we're not about to start bombing the innocents for oil. We have enough of our own thankyouverymuch. It's something else that separates us from those below the 49th--we make do with what we have, we don't exhaust our supply then turn around and take from someone else.
So today, look around you, breathe in all that fresh clean air and smile, knowing that we do indeed live in the greatest country in the world. No matter what our politics, as a nation we can look at ourselves in the mirror everyday without cringing.
My name is HRG and I am Canadian!
HRG
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)