Open toe & Peep toe shoes are all the rage at the moment and judging by the Fall 07 collections, it's here to stay for the Fall.
Although Autumn weather starts out warm, it does usually end with cooler temperatures...at least here in the metro DC area and up in the Northeast. And I was always under the impression that open toes, peep toes, and even sandals were supposed to be filled with bare feet so you can show off pedicured toes. But in a lot of the store ads, fashion mags, and celeb photos these days, I'm finding that they're showing all varieties of these shoes with tights and pantyhose.
There's something wrong about that, to me. I just don't know if I can participate in this trend.
Of course, pantyhose could only be the sandlefoot variety if you're one of the ones that will be following this trend (let's face it, you'd look like a Grandma if you went with the reinforced toe) but I wouldn't feel secure with that seam sticking out at the end of my toes and through the see-through hole. And that's just about the only place it would have to go because it wasn't meant to go under my toes cause that would be uncomfortable.
Tights? When I wear tights, I want to wear close toed heels, loafers or boots. I don't think - hey, I'm wearing tights, let me throw on my silver sandals. Maybe that's what they call boho chic but that's just not me. Mary Kate or Ashley, I am not.
So go on with your open toes and peep toes and throw on some pantyhose if you must, but don't count on me to be in that group - my open toes and peep toes will be stored away and waiting for warm weather 2008.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Idiots on Parade
If you want to see a parade of idiots, look no further than your local gym. Yeah, yeah, I know -gyms are intimidating. I wouldn't dream of hanging out in the free weight section. But really, it is astounding the number of idiots at the gym. As I trudged along on an elliptical machine in the second row today, I had the perfect view of the fourth machine in the first row with the "out of order" sign prominently displayed on the computer screen. Now, you know a lot of people got excited about what appeared to be an open machine, got their things arranged, and then realized, "oops, it's out of order." These people are not the idiots. Sometimes it takes a few moments to realize the situation. It would be the pot calling the kettle black if I got on their case about it. The idiot was the fifth person who started arranging his stuff on the "out of order" machine. He put his water bottle in the holder, threw a towel around the one of the handles. But he didn't stop there. This guy got on the machine, fired it up, and started striding. For five minutes, I watched this guy working out on a machine with this "out of order" sign half blocking the display panel. Do I need to add that this guy was dressed in khaki pants and a polo shirt? Totally bizarre. This particular Washington Sports Club must have some seriously apathetic employees because no one said boo. And as far as I know, this guy was still strolling away long after I left (my five minutes of utter disbelief only ended because my workout was done).
I found another such idiot at the mat when I was doing my crunches. This sweaty guy was all over one of those ab balls, muttering things like, "I really need to go home. I'm really tired . . ." to anyone that would listen. I could hear his caveman speak through George Michael on my iPod. This poor girl next to him was trying desperately to escape. I could see the look of panic on her face as I ran to the locker room. What a weirdo.
My friend Carrie used to workout in the little apartment complex-style gym in our office building. According to legend, there was a woman from the building that would work out in pink sponge rollers. Huh? I know this little gym is shady, Lady, but this is not your personal rec room. One time, one little pink sponge roller played stowaway in this woman's hair in the elevator on the way back up to the offices after lunch. I can't remember whether Carrie said anything. I know I wouldn't have. I mean, if you're parading around in rollers in the public gym, why not the office?
I found another such idiot at the mat when I was doing my crunches. This sweaty guy was all over one of those ab balls, muttering things like, "I really need to go home. I'm really tired . . ." to anyone that would listen. I could hear his caveman speak through George Michael on my iPod. This poor girl next to him was trying desperately to escape. I could see the look of panic on her face as I ran to the locker room. What a weirdo.
My friend Carrie used to workout in the little apartment complex-style gym in our office building. According to legend, there was a woman from the building that would work out in pink sponge rollers. Huh? I know this little gym is shady, Lady, but this is not your personal rec room. One time, one little pink sponge roller played stowaway in this woman's hair in the elevator on the way back up to the offices after lunch. I can't remember whether Carrie said anything. I know I wouldn't have. I mean, if you're parading around in rollers in the public gym, why not the office?
An Oldie but Goodie Joke
A woman was shopping at her local supermarket where she selected:
While the cashier was ringing up her purchases, the drunk calmly stated, "You must be single."
The woman was a bit startled by this proclamation, but she was intrigued by the derelict's intuition, since she was indeed single.
She looked at her six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about her selections that could have tipped off the drunk to her marital status.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she said, "Well, you know what, you're absolutely correct. But how on earth did you know that?"
The drunk replied, "Cause you're ugly."
- a half-gallon of 2% milk
- a carton of eggs
- a quart of Orange Juice
- a head of romaine lettuce
- a 2 lb. can of coffee
- and a 1 lb. package of bacon
While the cashier was ringing up her purchases, the drunk calmly stated, "You must be single."
The woman was a bit startled by this proclamation, but she was intrigued by the derelict's intuition, since she was indeed single.
She looked at her six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about her selections that could have tipped off the drunk to her marital status.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she said, "Well, you know what, you're absolutely correct. But how on earth did you know that?"
The drunk replied, "Cause you're ugly."
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
No Soup for You!!!
Yeah, yeah, I know. It's been said to death. Next thing you know, I'm going to revive "Where's the Beef" and "Show Me the Money . . ." But it can't be helped - no other title could do this post justice.
What in the hell has happened to customer service??? At about 10:30 this morning, during a work conference call, I started day dreaming about my lunch. I like to have a lunch plan if I can - it keeps me from wandering around aimlessly outside with a wad of licorice in my mouth during the noon hour. Today was the perfect day to head to Cosi, the hear/there/everywhere chain with the subpar coffee and the flat bread sandwiches. "Why was today the perfect day," I hear you cry . . . Because on Wednesday at Cosi, the soup of the day is Autumn Vegetable with Mushrooms. I like to think of myself as a soup connoisseur, particularly during the winter months. And I am here to tell you Autumn Vegetable is in a league of its own. It's fantastic. So I headed out for my soup at 11:45. Early, yes, but this particular Cosi is such a clusterf$#& with its lunch lines that I thought it best to beat the rush.
This Cosi spent almost a year closed for "renovation;" when it reopened, it was a bigger mess than ever. You walk in, and it's chaos. There are several placards hanging down from the ceiling that say, "Order Salads Here," "Order Sandwiches Here," and "Order Soups Here." While "Salads" and "Sandwiches" had dedicated Disney World roped off lines, "Soup" did not. So I snaked through the empty "Sandwiches" line and then moved to my right to stand under the "Order Soups Here" sign (like after they spin the wheel on The Price Is Right). The one employee remotely near "Order Soups" was finishing up a sandwich for a guy who entered before me. After he handed it off to the customer, he looked to a girl behind me (who certainly arrived after me) in the Sandwich Disney Line and asked for her order. Well, you can't walk all over me - I spoke up, "Um, I just wanted to get some soup." No joke, this guy has the gall to gesture to his right (my left), pointing to the Disney ropes, and say, "The line starts back there." Dumbfounded, I responded incredulously, "but I went through the line!" And I did - even though there was no one in it and I could have totally skipped to "Order Soups." He kept arguing with me but begrudingly gave me my soup (I watched carefully to make sure he did not spit in it). Seriously, though. What is Cosi trying to prove? Even if I had skipped the Disney Line, the signs are totally confusing, and how much time out of this guy's day is it going to take to pick up a ladle and give me my freaking soup. Good God. I'm getting ready to write my nastygram to Cosi as I speak. I hate rude behavior, and I won't tolerate it!
What in the hell has happened to customer service??? At about 10:30 this morning, during a work conference call, I started day dreaming about my lunch. I like to have a lunch plan if I can - it keeps me from wandering around aimlessly outside with a wad of licorice in my mouth during the noon hour. Today was the perfect day to head to Cosi, the hear/there/everywhere chain with the subpar coffee and the flat bread sandwiches. "Why was today the perfect day," I hear you cry . . . Because on Wednesday at Cosi, the soup of the day is Autumn Vegetable with Mushrooms. I like to think of myself as a soup connoisseur, particularly during the winter months. And I am here to tell you Autumn Vegetable is in a league of its own. It's fantastic. So I headed out for my soup at 11:45. Early, yes, but this particular Cosi is such a clusterf$#& with its lunch lines that I thought it best to beat the rush.
This Cosi spent almost a year closed for "renovation;" when it reopened, it was a bigger mess than ever. You walk in, and it's chaos. There are several placards hanging down from the ceiling that say, "Order Salads Here," "Order Sandwiches Here," and "Order Soups Here." While "Salads" and "Sandwiches" had dedicated Disney World roped off lines, "Soup" did not. So I snaked through the empty "Sandwiches" line and then moved to my right to stand under the "Order Soups Here" sign (like after they spin the wheel on The Price Is Right). The one employee remotely near "Order Soups" was finishing up a sandwich for a guy who entered before me. After he handed it off to the customer, he looked to a girl behind me (who certainly arrived after me) in the Sandwich Disney Line and asked for her order. Well, you can't walk all over me - I spoke up, "Um, I just wanted to get some soup." No joke, this guy has the gall to gesture to his right (my left), pointing to the Disney ropes, and say, "The line starts back there." Dumbfounded, I responded incredulously, "but I went through the line!" And I did - even though there was no one in it and I could have totally skipped to "Order Soups." He kept arguing with me but begrudingly gave me my soup (I watched carefully to make sure he did not spit in it). Seriously, though. What is Cosi trying to prove? Even if I had skipped the Disney Line, the signs are totally confusing, and how much time out of this guy's day is it going to take to pick up a ladle and give me my freaking soup. Good God. I'm getting ready to write my nastygram to Cosi as I speak. I hate rude behavior, and I won't tolerate it!
More Public Restroom Observations
I'm bringing it back to the bathroom - no toilet humor here, just plain old observations that I've collected in all my experience using public restrooms.
My biggest gripe has to be remnants left in the toilet or not even remnants but the lack of a flush. I will admit that when I was A LOT younger and I had to go to a public restroom by myself, I was scared. Scared of being alone and scared of the loud flush and a possible sewer monster rising out from the toilet to come get me. And because of my fear, I would not flush - just washed my hands (of course) and ran out of there. If there were others in the restroom, then I flushed.
Nowadays, I actually prefer being alone in a public restroom so I get my pick of stalls but I often wonder why do I always pick the one with remnants in the toilet? I look, I see, I shudder, and then I move on to the next stall. Never fails. But then I find myself thinking why the previous occupant didn't bother flushing or sparing a backwards glance prior to leaving the stall to make sure it was all clear. Mainly out of courtesy for the next user but if there is a waiting line of people, then it's really to spare yourself the embarrassment of the next person knowing what you did. The check only takes a mere second or two. It's so simple - if yes (there are remnants), flush again; if no, exit stall.
The other thing that I see that totally makes me shudder is when a toilet seat cover is left on the seat. 'Hey, thanks for leaving that for me, but I think I'll just use the next stall.' Ick. Even if that was the only stall available, I don't think I would use it. Why would I want to touch something that your butt has been on? I even see this a lot in our office restrooms and I'm like, 'People - we're adults here - what's the problem?!'
So remember when you're using a public restroom, spare a backwards glance and give it the all clear. What you do in your own bathroom is your business.
My biggest gripe has to be remnants left in the toilet or not even remnants but the lack of a flush. I will admit that when I was A LOT younger and I had to go to a public restroom by myself, I was scared. Scared of being alone and scared of the loud flush and a possible sewer monster rising out from the toilet to come get me. And because of my fear, I would not flush - just washed my hands (of course) and ran out of there. If there were others in the restroom, then I flushed.
Nowadays, I actually prefer being alone in a public restroom so I get my pick of stalls but I often wonder why do I always pick the one with remnants in the toilet? I look, I see, I shudder, and then I move on to the next stall. Never fails. But then I find myself thinking why the previous occupant didn't bother flushing or sparing a backwards glance prior to leaving the stall to make sure it was all clear. Mainly out of courtesy for the next user but if there is a waiting line of people, then it's really to spare yourself the embarrassment of the next person knowing what you did. The check only takes a mere second or two. It's so simple - if yes (there are remnants), flush again; if no, exit stall.
The other thing that I see that totally makes me shudder is when a toilet seat cover is left on the seat. 'Hey, thanks for leaving that for me, but I think I'll just use the next stall.' Ick. Even if that was the only stall available, I don't think I would use it. Why would I want to touch something that your butt has been on? I even see this a lot in our office restrooms and I'm like, 'People - we're adults here - what's the problem?!'
So remember when you're using a public restroom, spare a backwards glance and give it the all clear. What you do in your own bathroom is your business.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
All Is Well....
After attending our last dance class for the summer (what are we going to do for three weeks of no dance class?!), Amanda and I proceeded to the 7-Eleven, where all that ruckus occurred last week, and we're happy to report that all is well.
First of all, we're no dummies...we parked close to the exits so we could escape should anything unsavory occur.
We even stuck around in the parking lot, sipping our slurpees, waiting for trouble to find us...but it didn't come and it's now safe again, at the 7-Eleven - Arlington (Wilson Blvd).
And with fall semester dance class starting at 7:30 pm, it means that we'll be at the 7-Eleven even earlier than usual which will probably mean no good stories - just normal, boring people.
DARN!
First of all, we're no dummies...we parked close to the exits so we could escape should anything unsavory occur.
We even stuck around in the parking lot, sipping our slurpees, waiting for trouble to find us...but it didn't come and it's now safe again, at the 7-Eleven - Arlington (Wilson Blvd).
And with fall semester dance class starting at 7:30 pm, it means that we'll be at the 7-Eleven even earlier than usual which will probably mean no good stories - just normal, boring people.
DARN!
Monday, August 13, 2007
The Curse of the Conscience
I would never make it as a criminal. At a college homecoming visit to my sorority house one year, my friend and I helped ourselves to a “Greek Week” (or whatever theme of the month it was) t-shirt from the big box that was carelessly left in the foyer. We laughed at the time, of course, but that t-shirt sat in my dresser drawer completely untouched for years. Just looking at it gave me a pit in my stomach. The curse of the conscience.
Sometimes, I am surprised that I am still standing upright, with all of the guilt I carry around. And usually, the amount of guilt is disproportionate to the degree of the offense. I feel guilty that I never redeemed a gift certificate someone gave me. I feel guilty about that wedding gift I bought but never sent. I feel guilty about that snide comment I made ten years ago or that less than supportive reaction I had to someone else’s good news. I still feel bad about that kid who asked me to skate with him during “East Side, West Side” at the roller rink when I was in the fifth grade (I agreed to the skate, but when he fell, I just skated away). It is really silly if I sit down and think about it. We are all fallible, aren’t we? We have all said and done things we're not proud of. We’re only human, after all.
So from now on, I am going to try to embrace those incidents in a celebration of not being perfect. As a quintessential learning experience. But, in the future, if I ever do you wrong, and you respond with the old adage, “Some day you’ll be sorry” . . . you can rest assured that I probably will be.
Sometimes, I am surprised that I am still standing upright, with all of the guilt I carry around. And usually, the amount of guilt is disproportionate to the degree of the offense. I feel guilty that I never redeemed a gift certificate someone gave me. I feel guilty about that wedding gift I bought but never sent. I feel guilty about that snide comment I made ten years ago or that less than supportive reaction I had to someone else’s good news. I still feel bad about that kid who asked me to skate with him during “East Side, West Side” at the roller rink when I was in the fifth grade (I agreed to the skate, but when he fell, I just skated away). It is really silly if I sit down and think about it. We are all fallible, aren’t we? We have all said and done things we're not proud of. We’re only human, after all.
So from now on, I am going to try to embrace those incidents in a celebration of not being perfect. As a quintessential learning experience. But, in the future, if I ever do you wrong, and you respond with the old adage, “Some day you’ll be sorry” . . . you can rest assured that I probably will be.
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