Tag Archive: People

I was sitting at my desk, doing my usual work-related stuff, when one of our customers came up out of the blue and said to me, “You should be smiling. If my son had a job here he would be smiling all the time!”

That’s useful information, Ms Crazy Lady. If I go into an office and there’s a guy grinning like a fool behind the reception desk I’ll know to leave before the gunfire starts.

The thing that gets me is that I did smile at her. I was smiling at her when she said this to me, it’s an instinctive reaction. Anytime someone walks near my desk, I smile at them on the off chance they are going to sign in or ask me something. I just don’t have a very wide smile.

I had the same problem when they took my picture for my ID card. My co-irkers kept saying “Smile!” and I kept saying “I am smiling.”

Not everyone can look like the freak'n Joker.

I get along with all my co-irkers, I’m polite and professional, I do my job without a lot of fooling around or goofing off. In fact, if I do or say anything remotely funny I get stares as if I have suddenly pulled a rabbit out of my rectum. I have even overheard several co-irkers making bets as to who can make me laugh out loud. If I do something like wear nail polish or pull my hair back, or heavens forbid wear a little lip gloss, they become convinced I’m gettin’  some.

I’m beginning to think they might believe I’m some sort of robot.


I love Netflix.

I especially love the streaming video offered by Netflix, although I still get discs as well.

Next on the Netflix agenda...

Lately I have been watching the original The Twilight Zone series, with the eventual goal of watching all one hundred-thirty eight episodes. So far I’ve seen fifty and I’m moving at a fair clip. It’s been a while since I’ve seen any of them and I’ve noticed a few things. Besides the rockin’ theme music.


Production values – typical for the time period (the series began in 1959) and if you watch enough episodes you see some very obvious recycling of props and scenery. That’s to be expected, shows do that even now. I did spot a “rocketman” wearing what appeared to be an old-fashioned (by today’s standards) leather football helmet that had been painted what I assume was silver. It is in black and white, after all. All the settings, even those that are supposed to be in the future, look very Sixties. In the second season there were about a half-dozen episodes that look very odd because they were shot using videotape instead of film in an effort to cut the budget. The lack of freedom and the quality of the picture put an end to that. Similar budget concerns regarding the number of actors involved in the series led to one of my favorite episodes, The Nervous Man in the Four Dollar Room which has exactly three roles and two are played by the same actor.

A classic of dramatic self-exploration brought to you because of budget cuts.

Story – Ah, the stories. Classics now and rightfully so in my opinion. Wonderfully written and amazingly creative even by today’s standards. The very first season has many of the episodes that would go on to become classics. The second season, so far, is good but not quite as good as the first.

Many of the story elements used by other series originated with Twilight Zone. Rod Sterling used the vehicle of science fiction and fantasy as a way to sneak social commentary past the censors of the day. Aside from the few minor anachronisms, mostly regarding the prices of various items, the progress of technology, and the omnipresent smoking, the episodes stay pretty relevant. My very favorite episode is, of course, Time Enough at Last.

The look on his face ... it breaks my heart every time.

I am an old-school reader.

Give me a book and I’m happy. I could, and have, read for days on end.

I also wear glasses, big thick glasses that I would be nearly blind without.

Stylish, ain't they?

If I somehow survived a nuclear holocaust, I would probably do exactly what Burgess Meredith does; secure enough reading material to last me until the day I die. I would line the walls of my bunker with paperbacks.If I ran out of food I would eat the books I didn’t want to read anymore.

Low in nutrition but high in fiber.

All in all, if you have Netflix and can watch the streaming video, I recommend the original The Twilight Zone. It’s a wonderful series, masterfully written and timeless.

Watch it.


The H Word

I love hipsters.

It is my dearest wish in life to sit in a coffee shop in my flannel footie pajamas, drinking fair trade soy lattes that I borrowed money from friends to buy and use a Mac laptop to post poorly worded comments about how mainstream various things are.




Oh, I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t keep a straight face.

Hoo, boy.

For those of you who have no idea what a hipster is; welcome to the Internet!

I hope you aren't having trouble reading this on your Commodore 64, Captain Time Travel.

Hipsters are everywhere on the Internet and are almost universally despised. It would seem that the only person who can tolerate a hipster is another hipster. Hipster culture seems to be nothing more than an incredibly elaborate metaphorical penis measuring contest over who is the least concerned with popular culture.

Like this, but ...different.

This is achieved by a near-obsessive following of popular culture just so you can keep track of what you don’t like this week.

For some reason that escapes me, an entire subculture has grown up around buying expensive yet ugly clothes, poor personal grooming habits, and embracing things “ironically” while trying your damnedest to look as if you care less than anyone else. I’m puzzled that this has happened, when hipsters seem to to inspire an intense hatred in anyone who isn’t another hipster. But even non-hipsters are starting to dress in part like hipsters do.

Hell, even I have a pair of hipster-ish “geeky” glasses.

They make me look smart AND keep me from running into things!


Why are tight sweaters, hoodies, epic mustaches and beards, and Converse sneakers suddenly so popular?

These people look as if their mothers dressed them.

Your parents are now fashionable. Feel free to begin screaming at any time.

These people, these so-called hipsters, claim to loathe the mainstream.

They are the mainstream.

Hipsters are everywhere. In magazines, on the Internet, even on TV.

Okay... That's kinda creepy.

It’s trendy, a fad; it’s popular for people to dress like hobos, drink PBR and complain about how no one understands how indie they are.

We understand, Twinkie. We just don’t care.

I had boots like that but now they're so mainstream.

If these “hipsters” truly believed in what they claim to, they wouldn’t care what they looked like or who saw them on their fixie listening to whatever gods-awful band no one has heard of this week.

My advice – Grow up, stop acting like pretentious asshats, and maybe develop an opinion of your own.

The Pen Conundrum

I noticed something odd today.

There is a clipboard on my desk where people sign in, it has a pen attached to the top with one of those long plastic springy things. Earlier today someone asked to borrow a pen and I gave them one of the loose ones I keep in a jar. They did their business and went about their way and I got busy and forgot all about the pen.

And then I noticed something odd. People were signing in more and more using the loose pen, even moving the regular pen out of the way at times so they could use the loose one. Both pens work equally well; both are the same color, the same size, almost identical save one has a leash and one does not.

But they used the loose pen about two-thirds of the time without even testing the leashed pen to see if it worked.


Did they assume the pen was broken or in some way non-functioning?

I got curious, so I scrounged up a loose pen that was almost empty and scribbled it dry. I replaced the good loose pen with the dry one.

A good majority picked up the loose pen, scribbled a bit, and then tried the leashed pen. Some tried the dry pen and then asked me for a pen, assuming the leashed pen did not work either. Very few picked up the leashed pen and ignored the dry pen altogether.

And then someone stole the dry pen.

I will never understand people.

There is a double standard in the world.

I am, of course, talking about the wild world of panty shopping.

These things, in case you aren't familar with them.

Not long ago I was in Wal-Mart with my parents (because I’m cool like that) And was looking through the various underthings available when I thought of something.

I’m a grown woman, looking through bras, fingering the cups and such.

If I were a pervert or some kind of fetishist, no one would ever know.

Because I’m a woman.

And it’s not because I was where the women’s underbits were; I could have been in the men’s section, or the children’s section, and people would assume I’m shopping for a husband or child. I browsed in the men’s section and there was some pretty neat underwear over there, I wouldn’t mind having a pair of Batman undies. You just don’t find that sort of thing in the women’s section.

I could make these look GOOD.

They would never know if I was some sort of social deviant, but would assume I was on a perfectly normal errand.

My father, a somewhat scruffy man with a beard and large glasses, would be labeled a pervert if he had been alone in the lingerie section, even if he was on a perfectly legitimate errand.

Ditto for the children’s section. With no actual child present, a lone man browsing through the Tinkerbelle panties would be labeled some sort of child molester, even if only in the minds of those who saw them.

A woman = “Ah, that’s normal, nothing to see there.”

A man = “Pervert. I’m gonna do a search of the sex offenders registry when I get home.”

It just doesn’t seem fair.

The Royal Treatment

Every little girl wants to be a princess at one time or another.




And don’t start with that “Not me, I was a tomboy” stuff.

I was a tomboy, I played with Tonka trucks in the back yard and dug holes big enough to use as foxholes. If it was socially acceptable, I still would.

Hell YES I would.

I still wanted to be a princess.

Not all the time, but I had my moments where I daydreamed about living in a castle and wearing long gowns studded with precious stones and flounced out the wazoo.

This is what I would wear to go grocery shopping.

I would stroll the battlements of our beautiful stone castle with my handsome husband and his washboard abs and we would pelt the occasional serf with rotten fruit and laugh.

Pictured : modern day England

I assume England still has serfs, right?

I’ve never been there but I have read quite a few romance novels.

There also seems to be a high ratio of handsome young noblemen looking for wives to ravish. All the women’s dresses appear to be made out of colored tissue paper and tear at the drop of a hat and are very badly fitted.

Their men's clothing seems ... adequate.

I am not alone in this particular dream; women, and a few very special men, dream about becoming princesses and enjoying everything that would come with that. An army of servants to cater to your every whim, the adoration of an entire country. Nothing but pretty dresses and all the imported chocolate you can eat.

This would be a good start.

Brides try to recreate this on their wedding day; they get the gown, the music, the setting, everything as close to that image of perfection they hold in their minds.It never quite does, but you get as close as you can.

And last Friday one former little girl got the real thing.

Not the best in-laws, but I'm sure she'll manage.

And now … this.

So what am I going to talk about today? Do you really care? There are millions of blogs out there where whiny people bitch about there pitiful problems. As if any of that matters with the coming Zombie Apocalypse.

Damn, I need some peach brandy. Refreshment break!

Well, I’m feeling a little chattier.Let’s see what the Wheel O’ Topics has for us… “Talking to people”. Way to break the boundaries there, Wheel. Oh well.

Talking to people; personally I hate it. The more I deal with people in general the lower an opinion of humanity I have. That’s not to say that there aren’t a few people out there that are kind and decent, I just don’t meet them with any regularity.

“But, Ghostie” you might cry “what about basic human decency?” To you, my hypothetical questioner, I would say; “Suck it.” Truthfully, if you want an indicator of how thin the veneer of decency is, dawdle just a little too long the next time you finally reach the front of a long line. Grandmotherly little nuns will start calling for your blood, trust me.

With that out of the way, I’m gonna go hang my socks up to dry.