Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Tag: Halloween

I’ll Try Not to Whine

clear water drops

Photo by Anthony on Pexels.com

This photo has nothing to do with anything, but came up when I typed in “crystal” and I liked it. Yes, I am comfortably ensconced in the old format again.

Commercial for some hotel: “You won’t just walk down stairs. You’ll walk down stairs covered in Swarovski crystals.” Why, exactly?

Pumpkin pie has finally arrived at McDonald’s! As anyone can tell you, I am easily pleased. The box it comes in says, “Packed with all the flavor it can hold.” Well, isn’t everything?

Note on toilet paper package: “Join the conversation on Facebook!” Why, exactly?

A Halloween makeup display at Walgreen’s offered options: skeleton,  a female version of the Joker (what the world has been crying out for, I guess), a Serpent Goddess (or Serpent Princess–I know I should keep my goddesses and my princesses straight, since the scope of their powers would differ greatly, but I can’t be bothered) (yes, I’m qualified to be a Serpent Whatever, but it would require buying something), and a Venomous Vamp, male and female versions. Rom said one can’t be a venomous vampire. It does seem unfair, but life is unfair. Why, exactly?

HOW TO BE A BEYOTCH AT MCDONALD’S

I was behind a very-put-together-looking woman who insisted on a refund because they were out of French dressing, EVEN THOUGH she accepted a different type of dressing and ate her (free) salad anyway.

THE BRIGHT SIDE OF HUMAN NATURE

Remember a couple posts ago, where I noted that someone leaving an old blanket at the bus stop led to everyone treating it as a waste dump? Sure you do. Well, there’s another stop–the first one after Walmart, if you must know–that has no nearby trash can, and trash was starting to pile up. But then someone thought, Hey, this Walmart shopping cart I helped myself to can be used as a trash receptacle! And now everyone puts their stuff there, instead of dropping it on the ground. Of course, that means it’s not available to use as a shopping cart, but there’s always more where that came from. So now there are 2 shopping carts there.

I guess that story wasn’t really has uplifting as I’d hoped.

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Why Is Everything So Complicated?

male bugs illness disease

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Well, WordPress just “added functionality,” which I clicked on by mistake, and no one will be available to help me undo it until the 22nd (which happens to be the date I started in Dispatch, so it’s all ironic and stuff), so now I am stuck.

This “functionality” will supposedly enable me to insert media content from all over the Internet! At any point! Which I don’t want to do! I just want to select pictures from their library of free stuff, which has now been removed, because I’m supposedly browsing the entire Internet for pictures, many of which are not free. I hate everyone.

Anyway, (sorry if there’s a gap here, since I was experimenting to see if I could find the free library, but no such luck), I was originally going to write about:

EVERYTHING YOU WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT TICKS

You say you don’t want to know anything about them? Well, Rom and I have had to learn, so too bad. I am here to inform.

DID YOU KNOW?

–Ticks wait for hosts by hanging around on leaves, etc., and holding out their first pair of legs to grab on. This behavior is called “questing.” Isn’t that cute? Aren’t we all on a quest of some kind?

–They can survive through cold winters! We will never be free of them!

–But they prefer heat and humidity, so we in this part of the world will really never be free of them.

–They prefer to stay on you for hours or days, but “are usually removed quickly by humans, to prevent the spread of disease.” This makes it sound as if we’d be OK with them sucking our blood for hours or days, as long as there was no risk of disease. I don’t know about you, but I object to that.

Females stay on you (see above), while males eat little, preferring to gather around an available female. It’s a party on your body!

COSMO ASTROLOGY UPDATE

OK, prompts keep appearing randomly asking asking if I want something to be boldface or italic, but since I can’t figure out why or what triggers them, it’s, you know, random. I wish they had a Version For Autistic People Who Were Born Before the Computer Revolution and, As a Result, Don’t Know What They’re Doing.

Anyway, I don’t actually believe in astrology, but I find it fun, and Cosmo hit it on the proverbial head (or nail) for me in What Your Sign Should Be For Halloween: Taurus is too cheap to spend money on something you’re only going to wear once. So put together a vampire look with your sexiest LBD (they err in assuming I have more than one little black dress, {actually, I don’t have any}, although I do own 7 pairs of knit pants in various shades of brown), and the makeup you already own, just more of it. That is exactly what I do every year. Black eyeshadow and red lipstick, here I come!

OK, there’s no telling what this post is going to look like, but here goes.

UPDATE: I DETECTED A TYPO, SO I HIT “EDIT,” AND ONE OF THE OPTIONS WAS “GO BACK TO CLASSIC EDITOR,” SO WE’RE ALL SAFE NOW. I wept with joy. No, I didn’t. As you were.

 

 

Impossible Advertising

turned on gray laptop computer

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–“Coors Light–the official beer of drinking in the shower.” At bottom of screen depicting this–“Do Not Attempt.”

On base of scented candle–“Do not breathe candle fumes.”

On educational TV show: “Archaeology has only discovered 10% of civilizations.” Rom: “How can they know that?”

I did not whine in a timely manner about Halloween candy appearing on the shelves at CVS, but it’s there, and has been for about a week.

Someday I hope to discover which employee at Walgreen’s drives a black Cadillac, since it’s on the lot every day.

GOD SAVE US FROM THEOLOGY ON THE BUS

I have reached a stage in life where I can’t be sure, if a guy lets me get on the bus ahead of him, if it’s because I’m a woman or because I have some gray hair (although I got my first gray hair when I was 27). But I can be sure if it’s a man my own age. He was wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt. Because it’s m-m-my generation. (Apologies to both bands.)

A woman got on who works at Taco Bell on Lloyd, and started telling the bus driver and her friend about this weird sect she’d just heard of, who believe only 130,000 people will be saved. (It’s actually 144,000–it’s from Revelation, the 12 tribes of Israel times twelve, BUT WE WON’T GET INTO THAT HERE). She said, “I’m Christian myself, but I’m Catholic.” When she got off the bus, she said she was going to pray for the two women she’d been talking to, and the bus driver’s friend said, “Don’t pray for me–I know who you’ll be praying to!” The Taco Bell lady got off the bus, and the bus driver’s friend said, “She’ll be praying to the wrong person!” The bus driver said, “Yes. That is idolatry.” For the record, Catholics do not, in fact, pray to the devil.

I went to get stamps, and intended to get T. Rex stamps in honor of Trexa, but they had none, so I had to settle for dragon stamps, in dubious honor of Nick.

 

 

 

Tragedy Averted

 

 

black and white short coated cat

Photo by Brit on Pexels.com

Note: the above photo is not Ez, but gives you an idea of what she looks like.

About 10 days ago, Cat Esmerelda (my dual-purpose spirit and service animal) started to jump onto my clothes cabinet via Rom’s chest of drawers (or, as we say in this part of the world, “chester drawers”). However, I’d left a pair of socks on the chester drawers, because I intended to wear that pair the following day. Ez freaked out upon seeing the unfamiliar object, aborted her leap, and fell across the arm of the bedroom chair. Since she got up and walked away, I thought nothing more of it. When she started huddling in the corner behind my laundry basket, and stopped grooming herself, we thought, Well, maybe she’s sore and bruised from the fall. It wasn’t until she started refusing all food but yogurt, and actually gagging when we offered her other food, that we thought, She’s getting worse, not better. Rom took her to the vet, who ordered blood work and diagnosed kidney damage. She was given subcutaneous fluids. Arrangements were made to admit her for intravenous fluids, but this proved not to be necessary.

I will never forget her jumping onto the bed (barely clearing it) to be with me, laying her head wearily in my hand, and looking at me with dull eyes, as if to say, “I want your face to be the last thing I see.” Rom offered an alternative translation of her look–“Fix it!” Of course, she probably meant both of those things. I’ll also never forget a few days later, when she joyfully bounded onto the bed, ramming her head against me repeatedly (with her icy and no-longer dehydrated nose), and looked at me with shining eyes–“You fixed it, just like I asked!” The credit actually goes to Rom for taking her to the vet, because I myself was sick that week. (Google “shigella,” and prepare to be grossed out.)

OTHER AND NON-TRAGIC NEWS

McDonald’s is finally through with the remodeling. Rom would approve of their removal of the multi-color wall panels, although they replaced it with the words “Two all-beef patties with a bunch of other crap and a sesame-seed bun” (I have never been a fan of the Big Mac and can’t remember its attributes) in multi-colors, which I can hardly regard as an improvement. They also are attempting to get people to use the self-service kiosks by greatly reducing the size of the counter where you order from an actual person, but I ain’t falling for it. “But, World Leader,” you ask, “being autistic, wouldn’t you welcome not having to deal with an actual person?” Yes, in theory, but in actuality, I oppose anything that might enable them to lay people off. INSERT MOMENT OF SILENCE HERE FOR THE TWO PEOPLE THE CITY WAS ABLE TO LAY OFF WHEN THEY AUTOMATED THE TIME CLOCK, WHOM I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN. One of the main reasons I retired as soon as I could was that they were out to automate as much as they could, and the job was being pared down to just answering phones, which was my least favorite part of it. Yes, it is all about me. But you knew that.

OVERDUE WALGREEN’S NEWS

Of course, they have their Halloween stuff out in abundance. I was looking over the makeup, trying to decide which would be the most flattering with my coloring. Then I remembered–it’s Halloween, it isn’t supposed to be flattering. I will probably just do what I always do, and wear stuff I already have, just more of it.

They also have the first Christmas stuff out, but I suspect it’s just stuff that didn’t sell last Christmas, so I will not blame them for it.

will, however, blame whatever company (and I don’t remember which one it was, SO THERE) said on TV that their product and/or service would enable the customer to “family greatly.” Hey, it’s all random anyway.

MCDONALD’S HAS PUMPKIN PIES, AND IT’S ALL PUMPKIN, NOT THAT PUMPKIN “CREME” STUFF THEY FOISTED ON US LAST YEAR!!

Nothing But Blue Skies: Hermes Hiris

nature sky clouds blue

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Continuing our exploration of dusky, bluish scents–Iris was recommended to me, as well as violet. These two are what are referred to as “blue florals.” I love these cool, powdery notes–iris more than violet, since it isn’t as sweet. My favorite color of iris is the lavender-blue type, but Hiris is like a sky-blue iris (if such a thing exists) set off by fluffy white clouds.

As a child, I asked, as all kids do, “Why is the sky blue?,” but the answer never satisfied me. Sure, the light in the visible spectrum reflects mainly the blue wavelength (or something like that, and frankly, I’ve had too much apple ale to look it up), but why?  Hiris doesn’t provide an answer, but perhaps its beauty is answer enough.

Hiris (the in the name harks back to Hermes, known mostly for purses and scarves, but also a damn fine fragrance house) was created by Olivia Giacobetti in 1999. I first tried it in 2004, and disliked it heartily. It reminded me of mashed turnips. The scent of iris is created by the roots (known as orris) rather than the flowers, so I suppose that’s appropriate, but I don’t like turnips. It took many years for me to appreciate this fragrance, but now I love it. No turnips, just an airy, casual-but-sophisticated scent, so elegant, but not fussy. It’s very “blue” in feel, and blue is my favorite color.

BUT MEANWHILE…

Vote for me! I’m the Outsider! (Yes, now I capitalized it!) If elected, I promise to nominate Supreme Court justices for their ability, not for how they’ll vote on a given political question. Won’t that be fun?

Yes, I’m making a mockery of the democratic process. Thanks for asking.

Also…people who came on board recently have been puzzled by the tone of this blog. Just assume that nothing is serious, except for the perfume reviews.

AND ALSO…

…Halloween merchandise was spotted in the stores, like, 2 weeks ago, but I was too deathly weary to report it.

This Blog Won’t Write Itself

…as I realized earlier today.

THE SAGA OF THE CASHMERE TWINSET

I once read that “every woman should have a cashmere sweater in her signature color.” My signature color is periwinkle, so the closest choices were either Lilac or Paradise Blue Heather, and only the latter came in size L, so that’s the one I got. Ssso soft….

THE WORK ETHIC IN ACTION

…well, aside from expecting the blog to write itself.

The woman in front of me on the bus started her phone conversation with, “They can’t get mad at me for not coming in today.” I’m betting they can, especially when she continued with, “I need to get someone to call my work on Tuesday and act like my kids are sick and it’s an emergency, so I can leave work at noon. I gotta go trick-or-treating with my kids.” Because you shouldn’t let your job get in the way of the traditional trick-or-treat hour of NOON. She finished up with, “This job is gonna get me in trouble.” No, you’re doing that quite well on your own.

Commercial: “It’s the Halloween weekend!” There is no Halloween weekend. This ain’t Labor Day. This year Halloween isn’t even contiguous to a weekend. Wonder what they’ll say when it falls on a Wednesday.

I suppose I shouldn’t expect Walgreen’s to be anatomically correct, but not only do they have skeletons of spiders, but the things that do have skeletons–dogs, cats, rats–all have skeleton ears. I thought it was for cuteness’ sake, but the inclusion of rats suggests they did it so that people would know what it was a skeleton of.

What does it mean when the “Scary Witch Hair” wig looks suspiciously like mine? WELL?

THE WAR ON PARTS OF SPEECH CONTINUES

“Tell us how you burger.”  Or just point and grunt.

STAB FROM THE PAST

My first post from March ’13 marked the first mention of Nick as a beast, and the introduction of “Theater of Cruelty” to describe our interactions. I excoriated him for referring to me as “abominable” on Facebook, and for misspelling “abominable.”

ASTROLOGY ’74

Beauty for Taurus: “Tuck a rose in your cleavage.” Ouch.

Favorite Fantasy for Cancer: “Having him carry you off to the bedroom while the steak burns.” Um, shouldn’t you do something about that fire first?

Passionate Setting for Capricorn: “At the base of a gnarled oak tree in a bed of daisies.” I can actually provide that in my front yard, if any Capricorns want to get in touch with me.

An Army of Red and Green Laser Snowmen

…is what was promised in a commercial I saw today. “ACT NOW AND WE’LL THROW IN VAMPIRE BATS, ABSOLUTELY FREE!”

ASTROLOGICALLY CHALLENGED

Let’s continue our zodiac explorations…now for 1973.

Witchiest Makeup for Taurus: “Green shadow on eyelids, the merest dusting of same for the most intriguing earlobes in town.” Yeah, green earlobes would be the most intriguing in town, I’m pretty sure.

Interior decorating for Gemini: “Start a crystal collection–a disconcertingly placed bud vase with blue silk rose in the bathroom.” I guess a crystal bud vase in the bathroom would be disconcerting no matter where you placed it. I recommend the back of the toilet.

Favorite Aphrodisiac for Cancer: “Clam juice, with a frosting of Mediterranean sea salt, sprinkle of tarragon.” I’m glad I’m not a Cancer, so I don’t have to drink this.

THE OTHER DAY…

Rom saw a sour neon crawler on the sidewalk. This must be an omen. Of something.

SOUR NEON CRAWLERS PERSONNEL:

P.J. McBride–vocals and bass guitar. There’s a heartwarming story of how I learned to play bass even though I’m hampered by a previously-dislocated finger.

Romuald McBride III–drums. He learned to play drums to deal with quitting smoking.

Lead and rhythm guitars–two of my brothers-in-law. These guys are real musicians and I was impressed by their performance of Tom Petty’s “You Got Lucky” in my living room. It takes a lot for an acoustic performance to impress me.

Keyboards–my old friend Charles.

With luck (oh, and with work, and you know how that goes), I’ll come up with adventures for the Sour Neon Crawlers, similar to the stories my dear departed friend Suzy and I wrote about our favorite musicians in 8th grade (Bob Dylan, Donovan, Simon & Garfunkel). Yes, I’m regressing. This is what I do when I’m not giving snaky tongues to birds in my coloring book.

I am at war with my coloring book. Every time I turn a page, I think, YOU EXPECT ME TO COLOR ALL THESE THINGS? ARE YOU INSANE?? Then I scribble all over it.

AN ILLUSTRATION OF AMERICA’S FOREIGN POLICY

–Little boy playing with his dad at McDonald’s–“Give me back my missile! You are evil!”

MORE CHILDISH THINGS–THIS JUST IN

Archer (currently 6 years old) is an alien for Halloween. He told Rom that he’s called Extraterrestrial Highway. Rom said, “Is that how you got here?” and he said no, that’s his name. He also has a special way of holding his hands while running (even when he’s not an alien) because “it’s aerodynamic.”

I hope this post meets with the approval of Nick, who was bored by me earlier.

As it happens, my 6th and last post for Feb. ’13 was entitled “Tortured By Boredom,” and described NIMS training as “being waterboarded with words.” Those who have had this training will know whereof I speak.

 

Glitterized

Remember my whining about lack of material? (“Which time?” they inquire.) Well, I have been informed by a former co-worker (I guess all my co-workers are “former” now) that Nick got involved in a situation on patrol that would make a good story. And so it shall, once I figure out how to Glitterize it. Did it occur to me to ask my (former) colleagues to send me good stories they encounter? No, it did not. “I fear no blogger,” Nick says, but maybe he should.

I CANNOT BE GOTTEN RID OF

still dream I show up at work, and then realize, “Hey, I don’t have to be here! I’ll just stay and eat donuts.”

IT’S THAT TIME OF YEAR

Time to use both boldface and italics? No, time to criticize holiday decorations. Not that I object to the idea of a spider skeleton. It just makes me wonder how many people think spiders actually have skeletons. “Well, I saw it at Walgreen’s, it must be true.”

SPEAKING OF DRUGSTORES….

I never did tell you what I spent my retirement gift cards on.

–Walgreen’s card from Ms. Tragically-Hip–red nail polish, base/top coat for same

–card from Noelle–gave CVS a turn and got a vat of body wash, one of those mesh puffy things (I normally use a washcloth, so I’m Trying New Things), and a tub of sugar scrub. I will be slicker than owl droppings, as Rom so poetically says, although I don’t think that substance is actually known for slickness.

The jury, by which I mean me, is still out on what to spend the rest of the retirement cash on. The longer I wait, the more ideas I get. How about a bright pink pantsuit? Rom will probably try to talk me out of that one. I think I’d look quite sixth-Rolling-Stone, with the addition of my black t-shirt. The ad for the suit says, “You can’t go wrong with slim-leg pants.” You can if you have big feet.

SONG-LYRIC ANALYSIS

“I’m goin’ away, baby, and I won’t be back ’till fall

If I find me a good-lookin’ woman, I won’t be back at all”

I detect a lack of commitment to this relationship.

CANNIBALIZATION

Post #2, “How I Got Beaten Up At Work,” (Feb. 2013) is self-explanatory. I see that one person re-read it, so they could envision it taking place at a massage parlor. Make sure you envision it with mirrored walls and red and green shag carpeting. Oh, and 70’s hard-rock radio. “More Than a Feeling,” indeed.

 

The Beast Is Back

But first (Nick groans and slouches down in his seat)…

HALLOWEEN STUFF SPOTTED AT CVS

I refused to look at it. It isn’t even September yet.

AD IN PAPER

“Extreme Couponing Workshop.”

Every word of this is wrong. “Extreme”–really? I lead a dull life, and even I think coupons are boring.  “Couponing”–is not a verb. Spellcheck backs me up here. “Workshop”–how hard is it? Cut them out and you’re done.

RESULT OF INADVERTENT EXPERIMENT WITH ANTIPERSPIRANT PAST ITS EXPIRATION DATE

The deodorant function still works. The antiperspirant, less so.

Speaking of which…

REACTIONS TO DEGREE ANTIPERSPIRANT COMMERCIAL

Me: “Why is she spraying antiperspirant on her chest?”

Rom: “Why is the bottle shaped like a dildo?”

Well, drat, it’s later than I thought. So I’ll just post this much now. Nick, consider yourself teased.

Actual Witch, No Costume Needed

HALLOWEEN REPORT

Just my usual, orange skull t-shirt (the black one bit the dust last year because I mysteriously got a chocolate stain on it), too much makeup (Onyx eyeshadow and Currant lipstick), and my witchy hair, which is sunbleached and too reddish by now to be scary. Unlike my eyebrows, variously characterized as “like Frida Kahlo” and “like a serial killer.”

TRICK-OR-TREATERS AT MY HOUSE

–a wizard and Pikachu. Unknown in what universe these two would coexist.

–a ninja and a knight. Or whatever has a silver knight helmet and a red scarf over its face, I don’t know.

–a man and his son who apparently dressed up as each other. I was drunk by then, so I’m not sure. And I was distracted by the fact that the grown man also had a trick-or-treat bag, so he could get as much candy as his son.

What I’m getting at here is, I ended up eating most of the Kit-Kats myself.

IN OTHER KIT-KAT-RELATED NEWS…

Bet you never thought you’d read those words!

I read a story on Facebook in which a man left a Kit-Kat in the drink cup in his car. He came back to his parked vehicle and found the Kit-Kat gone and a note which read: “I love Kit-Kats, and I tried your door and it was unlocked, so I took it. I didn’t take anything else. I’m sorry, and hungry.” The comments on this story included The Two People Who Comment On Every Internet Story:

  1. “He obviously made this story up just to get his 15 minutes of fame,”
  2. and, “How can all you people think this is funny? What’s funny about a hungry person reduced to stealing a candy bar?

CRISIS IN PROGRESS–THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING

“Caller said his neighbor threatened him with a crossbow. Other party also called and said the original caller threatened him with a golf club.” You know what they say about bringing a golf club to a crossbow fight.

MORE COMPLAINING ABOUT STUFF

There is now a spring-loaded glitter bomb. I am opposed to glitter because I don’t like texture. Everything should be smooth and soft.

AND STILL MORE

I clicked on the wrong thing and deleted my entire post. This is rewritten from memory, so if it doesn’t meet your expectations, that’s my excuse. Now my hand hurts from typing. (You know, the one I slammed on the concrete back in May.) Life is hard.

 

 

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