Mall shopping in the Ballyhood

I had to venture out to the mall the other day. I hate going there, and go so rarely, that in between trips I forget what it is I dislike about it so much. It takes all of about 2 minutes to refresh my memory.

It was an unseasonably warm day, so many people were driving with their convertible tops down. I saw 2 women driving with the top down and brushing their hair at the same time. (No, this doesn’t have anything to do with being at the mall, but I just wanted to share this oxymoronic behaviour with everyone.)

When I arrive, the first thing I have to deal with are the people who want to wash my car while I shop. First of all, they charge an outrageous price. Second of all, they expect a tip nearly as large as their asking price. I have a vacuum, a water hose, soap, buckets, ShamWows™ and a kid trying to earn enough allowance to buy a pair of Uggs™ (don’t ask) at home. I have to deal with this because I MUST enter the mall through Nordstrom, at the entrance going into the women’s clothing department. I blame this on my self-diagnosed mild case of OCD.

When I make it into the actual mall area, one of the most baffling things I spot are all the school age girls at the mall with their Moms. There are never any school age boys, just school age girls. Are all these girls home schooled? Do their Moms keep them out of school for a day of shopping? Why are they all wearing Miley Cyrus t-shirts?  (I have (conspiracy) theories that answer all these questions, but that’s another post.)

One of the first stores I walk past is Mimi Maternity. I stop dead in my tracks. There is a picture of Nicole Richie in a maternity dress. A really pretty maternity dress. I go in to look at the rest, and they are really cute. I can’t believe I just made that confession. It just seems so wrong on so many levels. Especially since I’m not even pregnant.

After this, I have to walk past all the kiosks with people trying to sell me hand lotions, cell phones and plans, and cheap jewelry. I’m allergic to the lotions, I have an iPhone, thus I am ball and chained to AT&T, and I rarely wear jewelry. Two of these are truths, and one is a lie. Can you spot the lie? Anyways, it gets them off my back.  When I go to the mall, it’s usually on one single minded mission. I want to get in and get out as quickly as possible. I don’t need these (meaning any more since Nordstrom) distractions.

Of course, I get to see all the usual mall attractions. People who couldn’t find the time to change out of their pajamas. I guess that Orange Julius just couldn’t wait. The senior mall walkers. The streets of Bethesda are too dangerous, so they take it indoors. The “professional” shoppers who can carry their weight in shopping bags. And, naturally, the unemployed hipsters who still live with Mommy and Daddy. Poor dears.

I left the mall without the object of my desire and a dirty car. It wasn’t a totally wasted trip. I did come away with refreshed perspective and a pair of Jag Jeans. I swear to Xenu they were calling my name.

So, have any of you Squeers had interesting mall experiences you would like to share? Fresh perspective is always welcome. Leave the stale stuff at The Corner Bakery.

Trying to Find the Middle Ground

Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman. It seems everywhere you turn, someone is trying to force their version of what a real woman should be down your perfectly lined and lipsticked piehole. If it’s not the misogynistic dipshits in the fashion and advertising world, than it’s the neo-feminists telling you how unaccomplished you are if you’re not out working 80 hours a week at some high-powered job.

Do you have kids? Yes, that’s OK. In fact it is this generation’s MUST for the woman who wants to have it all! That’s why Xenu created nannies and cleaning services! Real women don’t have time to take care of things at home. You can always schedule “Kid Time” in on your iPhone! You can even set a little alarm to go off as a reminder.

Now don’t get me wrong, if this is a lifestyle a woman chooses for herself, it’s OK by me… it just may not be suitable for some of the rest of us. There are women who are perfectly happy staying home, running the carpool, volunteering at school and cooking gourmet meals. Some of these women had the ball-busting career and traded it in for diaper duties and snuggles. Other women went straight from high school to the altar, and shortly thereafter, the maternity ward. No, not all are happy with their situations, but neither are all the “successful” women. Some want desperately to get off the roller coaster, but are too afraid of being considered a failure.

(more…)

And Other 21st Century Myths and Legends

I hate buying cars. It’s not actually the getting the car that I dislike so much as the having to deal with the car salesmen aspect that goes along with it. I dislike the process so much, that I have successfully avoided buying a car for over a decade. Several months ago someone asked me how long I had owned my car.
I told them I had purchased it during the Clinton Administration. I like to measure time in Presidential Terms. It really puts things in perspective for me. “Yes. I got pregnant with my daughter during the Clinton years, but gave birth to her during Bush’s Debacle.”

I have been in denial concerning the need to purchase a new car for a couple of years now. Everyone else seemed well aware of the fact. I was asked if I was “some kind of Hippy trying to make a statement” and “where were my peace decals?” In my eyes, she was still the same vision of beauty as the day I bought her. But, the day my daughter got out of the back seat holding an unrecognisable plastic piece that had fallen off of something, and my husband joked about “duct tape,” that was my cue to find her successor.

I already knew what kind of vehicle I wanted to purchase, so I headed to the dealership for a couple of test drives. My husband was out of town, so I had to do this on my own. When I walked through the door I swear all their minds were thinking, in unison, “Shark Bait!” I kept thinking, “Car salesmen must be failed televangelists. Or, vice-versa.”

After a couple of test drives with my assigned salesman, I’ll call him Forest Whitaker without the charm, I decided on a car and called my husband for his version of a fair deal. After much over-the-phone haggling, we decided on the price. Later that evening, he went with me to look it over. As soon as we walked through the door, the charmless one, whom I will now refer to as Vulture, swooped down on my husband and told him he had some papers for him to sign. Errr, wrong move, Vulture. He didn’t even offer him a look over and a test drive. I knew the deal was already lost.

(more…)

No. This isn’t a boat launch for the Potomac.

The other morning I had to take my husband to the airport. We left right before 6AM thinking we would have a clear shot without any traffic. These hopes were dashed as we approached the American Legion Bridge. Traffic was slowing down. As we were creeping across, I noticed this huge, plastic object that appeared to be a hull. I looked to my left, and there in the far outer lane was a boat! Not on a trailer attached to a vehicle, just a boat.

I thought I had seen it all on the beltway. Flaming cars, cars without windshields, cars passing on the shoulder, going 60 miles, and crashing into the backs of tractor trailers, cars that were flattened like pancakes, people trying to cross the beltway, boats abandoned on the side of the beltway, but never a boat on the beltway.

Later that day, I found a news article stating what had happened. Apparently the owner of the boat failed to properly secure it onto the trailer.

(I guess he was in a hurry to get his fishing on.)

The boat came off the trailer and landed in the road. He called authorities to have them send someone to tow it away. He failed to mention the size of the boat, so the first truck that was sent out was too small. The boat was finally hauled off around 7AM. Traffic was backed up past Germantown, MD. The owner of the boat declined to be interviewed. I wonder why?

Traffic is bad enough in DC without some irresponsible, lazy dumbass making it even worse. People who leave for work before 6AM do so in order to miss traffic. He certainly screwed that up for everyone. It’s too bad being a complete moron isn’t at least a misdemeanor.

Noooo…..

Everyone knows Steve Jobs owns me–and my soul. Well, the other day not only did I die a little inside, I also lost a little piece of my soul. My Nano died. (Not to be confused with Nana. She was old and we saw it coming.) I turned on my iPod, and there was that horrible picture: the iPod with crossed out eyes. I had read rumoUrs of this on Apple websites. I never believed it would actually happen to me!

I was so traumatized I had to call one of those hotlines. We hashed it out. Yes, she was 3 years old and her insides were starting to rust from all the sweating I do while running, but she seemed so young.

This has caused me such mental distress, I think I should sue for the price of a new Nano. Steve Jobs did not keep his promises! I don’t remember exactly what they were right now, but I’m sure they were something along the lines of “may your Nano live forever.”

I also believe there is some sort of conspiracy theory going on here. My iPod died the same week the new iPhones came out!!! What are the chances???!!! So, not only did I HAVE to buy a new iPod, I also HAD to buy a new phone. There is definitely shenanigans AND hijinks afoot here. I’m going to have to meet somebody in the Applebee’s parking lot about this.

And now that I’ve had time to think this through, I might just sue my owner for the price of the phone. That will show him who’s owned!

Don’t go back to Rockville

RumoUr has it that Kate Gosselin has taken a second residence in Rockville, Md. It is supposed to be her “getaway” for when Jon moves all his bongs and Ed Hardy gear to the Pennsylvania abode to let the nannies do his custodial duties.

Why would anyone want to “getaway” to Rockville? No Walmarts? Congested traffic? Bodyguards? She must not be an REM fan?

She chose her new digs wisely, though. Arby’s is right around the corner, White Flint Mall is conveniently located down the street and there’s a Metro stop right across Hungerford Drive. (There’s even an underground crossing so you don’t have to risk your life every time you attempt to cross the street.) What else does a reality television star need?

However, I do foresee one problem for her. I made a few calls to local hair establishments. If she has a hair emergency regarding her possum-do, she will have to drive all the way to Fredneck Frederick to remedy the situation. Trixie, at The Beauty Bar, said she would be delighted to take her on as a client. No appointment necessary.

Ice Edition

Due to the recent onslaught of ice and snow storms across the US, (excluding California and Hawaii) I would like to issue a reminder. When you are using the ice picks to extract your vehicles, please remember to clear the ice off the top of your car. I do realize that some states are backwards (I’m looking at you, Maryland) and do not require vehicle owners to take this possibly life-saving action. But, let me assure you of something. If a massive glacier comes flying off of your automobile and strikes another car, you will be responsible for any incurred damages. So, if you don’t want to be sued by someone who probably has more money than you do, please take the extra few minutes to CLEAR THE ICE OFF THE TOP OF YOUR DAMN CAR! I’m just sayin’…

The weather turned really nasty here last night. It went from nice fluffy, white snow to sleet and freezing rain. Of course this meant I was awakened around 2:30 AM by the incessant scraping of a road plow. For those of you who have never had the privilege of living in a winter weather prone area, the sound of a plow scraping solid ice is somewhere between nails on a chalkboard and a jet landing in the street. (more…)

I’m sure most people have been in a position where a complete stranger has asked them a very personal question.  Many respond with shock or feigned politeness. There is another method of handling these predicaments, which will diffuse the situation (for the person being grilled) and usually leave the inquirer in stunned silence.  I call it “Giving Appropriate Answers to Inappropriate Questions.” Others call it lying. (more…)