Some general guidelines and reminders for appropriate public etiquette are in order today.
1. Don scratch that itch! We have all been there when that itch suddenly overwhelms, it comes without warming and with n regard for where you are or in whose company you might be. Please, for the love of god, don't scratch it. There is nothing worse than being the unwilling observer of the inappropriate public itcher. YES, we can all see you scratching your nuts/butt/boob/lady parts/ etc. You may think your being subtle and sneaky and that no one will notice, but we do! And its really AWKWARD, somewhat offensive, oddly fascinating, and just generally creepy.
2. Got a wedgie? Don't fix it in public. We see you standing by your car trying to pull the wrenched undergarment out of your crevices. Find a restroom. That strange walk you do with the weird leg twitch, trying to dislodge the wedgie, only leads us to concern for your health and safety. Are you having a spasm of some sort, should we call 911? The solution is easy; either, find a private restroom stall and fix it properly, or; avoid the wedgie all together by purchasing the correct size underwear so the too small versions don't creep up your bum.
3. Bodily functions and self pleasure are meant to be private! I don't need to see you peeing or taking a squat in the bushes at the edge of Joann's Fabrics. Nor should you ever assume it's acceptable to pleasure yourself, however covered up you might consider yourself, in public. EWWW gross, that's all I can say on the topic without further throwing up in the back of my mouth.
Most of this is simple logic and basic self awareness, but I've realized these are traits not all people possess. Some are severely lacking. Try to turn away, try not to watch, but sometimes its like watching the monkeys at the Zoo. You know the behaviors might get unquestionably bad, but you watch anyway, secretly proud that you are the superior species. Call them out on their bad behavior and they might throw feces at you.
About Me
- Lisa
- I always wanted to write a book but could never focus long enough to make it happen. Maybe this blog will inspire me. Or maybe it can be an outlet for my jumbled thoughts and opinions. You may not always agree with me, but that's o.k. I would love to hear your thoughts anyway.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Little Miss Fancy Pants
Well isn't that a hoot. The last time I was called little miss fancy pants I was wearing a full length Fox fur coat from my first husband and it was a said with a snear by someone jealous. O.k.......first of all yes..I said fur coat. I was precocious then and thought that symbols of success WERE success. Oh so young....and naive. Life had a lot of teaching yet to do back then. Lots of hard paths paved with jagged stones before I found my smooth walkway.
When we are young we seek the simpler paths, the road of least resistence with the greatest perceived reward. The more immediate the reward the better. We don't think about the addages our parents spout about things being too easy coming at a price. We want what we want, and we can't see the greater picture....at least not right away.
Life has a way of teaching its lessons. Sometimes subtly, and sometimes with no compassion or empathy at all... just brutal and full force. But lessons are important. We learn to appreciate even the mundane. No blessing is too small, and we learn that material possessions can't buy happiness and wealth does not always equal success. Success is so much more than just money and fur coats.
Love and friendship; peace with ones self; acceptance and compassion; these are all signs of success. The measure of a man is not the size of his bank account but the size of his heart. Sort of a plagarized ripoff from someone elses famous quote, but you get it....right?
This morning I was called little miss fancy pants because of an organization choice. At last...Success based solely on my obsessive compulsive need to have things in order; a place for everything and everything in its place. My system was the "fancy" in fancy pants. No snears inferred, it was a compliment, and one I appreciated.
I can still be little miss fancy pants, with my fashion choices, my food choices, my interests........but earning the title with my OCD need to control the elements in my immediate world.....well that was Fancy.
When we are young we seek the simpler paths, the road of least resistence with the greatest perceived reward. The more immediate the reward the better. We don't think about the addages our parents spout about things being too easy coming at a price. We want what we want, and we can't see the greater picture....at least not right away.
Life has a way of teaching its lessons. Sometimes subtly, and sometimes with no compassion or empathy at all... just brutal and full force. But lessons are important. We learn to appreciate even the mundane. No blessing is too small, and we learn that material possessions can't buy happiness and wealth does not always equal success. Success is so much more than just money and fur coats.
Love and friendship; peace with ones self; acceptance and compassion; these are all signs of success. The measure of a man is not the size of his bank account but the size of his heart. Sort of a plagarized ripoff from someone elses famous quote, but you get it....right?
This morning I was called little miss fancy pants because of an organization choice. At last...Success based solely on my obsessive compulsive need to have things in order; a place for everything and everything in its place. My system was the "fancy" in fancy pants. No snears inferred, it was a compliment, and one I appreciated.
I can still be little miss fancy pants, with my fashion choices, my food choices, my interests........but earning the title with my OCD need to control the elements in my immediate world.....well that was Fancy.
Monday, June 1, 2015
People are Funny....
We are an eclectic blend of weird and strange and crazy. I like to think I am unique, but the truth is I am actually quite bland and boring compared to the vast array and majority of characters out there.
As a species we are as varied as the spines on a porcupines butt or the the freckles on gingers face in the peak of summer. There are no two alike and we are all at risk of being ranked certifiably bat guano sniffing lunatics depending on who does the assessment.
Lets start with one pocket in my immediate world, the gym, for instance......
You have the creeper. 50 something, balding 5'6", thick black glasses, he comes in alone every night. Jeans, crocs, and plaid button down shirt hanging loosely over his stained t-shirt with his hairy belly button saying "hello world". Not exactly workout attire. You're not sure he's even a member, but he must be because they let him in and they let him stay? He does not, however, come to work out, or to get any exercise at all. He comes for the television, the massage chairs, and the view. He sits in the massage chairs of which there are only two intended for post workout quick relief with 5 minute cycles, but he sits for hours waiting for someone to need them. Staff eventually stops giving him tokens, but still he sits. He hoards the television remote and you can catch him, not so subtly, watching all the girls as they walk by. Should someone legitimately want to use one of the chairs he is sitting in, and he be forced to move, he hovers....leaning over the half wall until he can scamper back in like a rat on cheese. And may the gods have mercy on the soul that dares to change the television channel, while he waits to return to his self appointed throne. The daggers thrown from his icy stare and pouty overgrown mustached lip will have you checking your rear view mirror and back seat when you leave. Complain about it and you'll hear him whine about his rights and grunt about the a-holes that come to this place.
On the evenings when you miss the Creeper because perhaps it is past his bedtime and the moon hangs low, you'll find the family from south of the border. They come in around 11p.m. There are 8-10 of them, all women, ranging from late teens to early 60's. They are communal. They line up and do a few exercises together and then quickly retire to the locker room. This is where they begin their nightly routine of showers. They have a structure and a schedule. For other Gym members the dressing rooms and showers effectively become unavailable for the next 90 minutes as each family member takes their rotation through the cycle. If you enter the Locker room or bathroom you are suddenly overcome with the illogical yet very palpable feeling as though you have intruded on a private gathering in the home of this family as they prattle on in their native dialect, run around in towels and otherwise states of undress, blow dry and style their hair, perform facial cleansing and other rituals of general hygiene otherwise done at home. When all are done they gather for an hour of rotation in the massage chairs family living room style as they sit on the floor watching television and taking turns in the chairs.
Though there are no LUGS signs all around, there are still the typical lugs, in their tanks walking around and grunting as they pump and primp and sweat. The lugs refuse to wipe the machines down after a use, leaving those who follow the task of removing buckets of sweat left behind. They are rare, but rude. There are the pretenders who wear full gym suits ala' circa 1985 and do one or two reps at each machine (not in good form) and call it "Check, Workout Complete". They actually make me giggle.
Most members are people working really hard and really serious about what they are doing, but there are those who are just there to say they go to the gym too. It's not about size or age or looks, it's about commitment. Are you there to take a shower, watch TV, Sit in a massage Chair, or are you there to work your ass off both figuratively and literally? It's a no judgment zone, TRUE, but show some courtesy for other members. DON'T hoard areas and facilities that are intended for all member use, and DO wipe down machines and equipment when you are through.
Be as weird as you want, just respect others as you do it.
As a species we are as varied as the spines on a porcupines butt or the the freckles on gingers face in the peak of summer. There are no two alike and we are all at risk of being ranked certifiably bat guano sniffing lunatics depending on who does the assessment.
Lets start with one pocket in my immediate world, the gym, for instance......
You have the creeper. 50 something, balding 5'6", thick black glasses, he comes in alone every night. Jeans, crocs, and plaid button down shirt hanging loosely over his stained t-shirt with his hairy belly button saying "hello world". Not exactly workout attire. You're not sure he's even a member, but he must be because they let him in and they let him stay? He does not, however, come to work out, or to get any exercise at all. He comes for the television, the massage chairs, and the view. He sits in the massage chairs of which there are only two intended for post workout quick relief with 5 minute cycles, but he sits for hours waiting for someone to need them. Staff eventually stops giving him tokens, but still he sits. He hoards the television remote and you can catch him, not so subtly, watching all the girls as they walk by. Should someone legitimately want to use one of the chairs he is sitting in, and he be forced to move, he hovers....leaning over the half wall until he can scamper back in like a rat on cheese. And may the gods have mercy on the soul that dares to change the television channel, while he waits to return to his self appointed throne. The daggers thrown from his icy stare and pouty overgrown mustached lip will have you checking your rear view mirror and back seat when you leave. Complain about it and you'll hear him whine about his rights and grunt about the a-holes that come to this place.
On the evenings when you miss the Creeper because perhaps it is past his bedtime and the moon hangs low, you'll find the family from south of the border. They come in around 11p.m. There are 8-10 of them, all women, ranging from late teens to early 60's. They are communal. They line up and do a few exercises together and then quickly retire to the locker room. This is where they begin their nightly routine of showers. They have a structure and a schedule. For other Gym members the dressing rooms and showers effectively become unavailable for the next 90 minutes as each family member takes their rotation through the cycle. If you enter the Locker room or bathroom you are suddenly overcome with the illogical yet very palpable feeling as though you have intruded on a private gathering in the home of this family as they prattle on in their native dialect, run around in towels and otherwise states of undress, blow dry and style their hair, perform facial cleansing and other rituals of general hygiene otherwise done at home. When all are done they gather for an hour of rotation in the massage chairs family living room style as they sit on the floor watching television and taking turns in the chairs.
Though there are no LUGS signs all around, there are still the typical lugs, in their tanks walking around and grunting as they pump and primp and sweat. The lugs refuse to wipe the machines down after a use, leaving those who follow the task of removing buckets of sweat left behind. They are rare, but rude. There are the pretenders who wear full gym suits ala' circa 1985 and do one or two reps at each machine (not in good form) and call it "Check, Workout Complete". They actually make me giggle.
Most members are people working really hard and really serious about what they are doing, but there are those who are just there to say they go to the gym too. It's not about size or age or looks, it's about commitment. Are you there to take a shower, watch TV, Sit in a massage Chair, or are you there to work your ass off both figuratively and literally? It's a no judgment zone, TRUE, but show some courtesy for other members. DON'T hoard areas and facilities that are intended for all member use, and DO wipe down machines and equipment when you are through.
Be as weird as you want, just respect others as you do it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)