Monday, April 29, 2013

Tweets I Never Published


Oh, I'm a "bitch" b/c I won't lend you my cell phone?  HOW ABOUT A KNUCKLE SANDWICH?


Did the test script SAY to leave the order-entry window?


Yep, I will totally respond to "Hey baby" as you pull up your zipper in the bus stop.


Mandatory minimum 24-hour waiting period before I will respond to BS emails flagged as high priority.


DON'T play in the porta-potty!  



This last, I was tempted to scream out my car window as I passed three grade-school aged kids, who were occupied with tossing clods of dirt into the toilet of a porta-potty in a city Park.  

I really am fed up with the panhandlers on the Corner.  (Non-C'ville people, the "Corner" refers to the stretch of University Ave, adjacent to the grounds of the University of Virginia.)  My office is near the Corner and there's one panhandler in particular (the one who called me a bitch) who is so aggressive,  that I hesitate to walk there alone, even in the middle of a business day.  It's one thing to ask someone for money, but quite another to call someone a bitch, or anticipate that she will cross the street to avoid you, and cross the street yourself so you can harass her some more. It would be so satisfying to punch this asshole in the face.  

In happier news, my sister and her husband came to visit for the weekend, as did Brigid and her boyfriend.  We went to the Shebeen for lunch. Afterwards, Ian and I walked to the upscale Feast to stock up on treats for drinks later.  For the walk home, Ian suggested that we take a short cut by walking along the railroad tracks.  ("Really, like a homeless person? Oh, what the hell.")  So we scrambled down the embankment behind Feast and walked down the tracks for about a quarter of a mile, our Feast bag with the baguette sticking out contrasting with the numerous empty bottles of bottom shelf liquor that were strewn about. It was a good shortcut, although Ian cautioned me sternly never to take it by myself.

Dinner at home--I made pizza using my Jeffrey Steingarten recipe and the pizza stone, which I only use on special occasions.  I had a craving for a margarita from Continental Divide, so we went there after dinner and it was surprisingly not-crowded.  Then we headed to Millers to see our friend Nate who is the drummer in The Pollocks.  

Thus concludes another weekend.  My goals for the week ahead include a trip to the nursery for plants and, hopefully, elegant potted topiaries, and pinning down a paint color for the front hall. 

6 comments:

  1. I'm fed up with the pan handlers all around town. Esp the aggressive young ones with cell phones.

    When we first moved here, I worked at UVA and walked to work from where we lived. I found it was easier to cut across the railroad tracks, but I suppose I couldn't take that path today.

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  2. Yeah, experiencing that level of aggressive behavior would put me in the frame of mind to punch someone, too.
    Your patio sounds like it's getting prettier and prettier.
    And the note you sent me about your husband? Gave me a chuckle, but then I totally agree--that cover photo COULD be an image of "kitchen you!"

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  3. Growing up in a college town (Ann Arbor, MI) we encountered so many homeless (many of which had PTSD, or as it was called when I was a kid, they were "shell-shocked", from the Vietnam War). One old lady in particular used to follow my dad whenever she saw him, yelling at the top of her lungs "Trash of the world!" It got a bit old after awhile :-)

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  4. I have been thinking about getting a pizza stone. Do you like yours?

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  5. I do like my pizza stone, Laoch. It makes great crust, but the house tends to get smoky when I use it, and it's also necessary to preheat the stone for a while in the hottest temperature you can set your oven to, so it's best used in the winter. This is why I only use it for special occasions. For ordinary days, I use perforated pizza pans that also work pretty well. Technically, you can put a pizza stone on a grill, but cooking pizza on a grill uses a TON of propane and makes unattractive black stains on your stone, so I don't recommend it. If you're serious about making excellent pizza at home, I'd read Jeffrey Steingarten's essay about it. It's in either his book The Man Who Ate Everything, or It Must Have Been Something I Ate: The Return of the Man who Ate Everything.

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  6. Aggressive panhandlers give all panhandlers a bad name.

    Seriously, I have been known to give money to panhandlers, for good or evil, but there was this one time when we were living in Eugene and I had to stop my car at an intersection where a guy was holding up a sign that said, "Need money for beer. (Why lie?)" On another day, it might have amused me, but I had just been contemplating how my children desperately needed new clothes and we didn't have any money to buy them (not even used), and the nerve of this guy to ask me to buy his beer made me want to get out of the car and say, "THIS is why you lie, a**hole!" and punch him in the face. I guess that would have made me an aggressive philanthropist.

    As for the port-a-potty, Ew.

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