Why I will continue to shop at HyVee.

With only a jug of orange juice and a can of chicken noodle soup in my hands, I shuffled my sicky-poo self toward the only open register at the grocery store. There was one customer checking out, and she only had one item, so I was silently relieved that this was going to be a quick stop and I could get home to my electric blanket. For the last couple days, I’d been feeling like someone had forced broken glass Tabasco bottles down my throat and stuffed a cactus into my sinus cavity. This was not a pretty day for me.

So, just as I was getting ready to step into the checkout lane, a man (I will respectfully refer to as Mr. Punkass) and his shopping cart flew in from behind me, just missing the skin on the back of my left heel, and almost took out a whole display of beef jerky just to squeeze in front of me. I thought for sure it was just an accident because why in the world would anyone plow in front of a girl (again, carrying only two items) with an overstuffed cart about to explode like a Doritos and bacon volcano? I mean, maybe someone pushed him from behind? Or maybe his cart was having some brake problems, right?

No, Mr. Punkass is just a socially retarded jerk. I looked up at his face as he glanced over his shoulder at me.

Me: “Are you serious?”

Mr. Punkass: “What? I was here first.”

You were here first?! I wanted so badly to reach out and rub my I-can’t-find-a-kleenex sleeve all over the back of his neck and cough pieces of green jellyfish goo into his hair. I was completely stunned. As I always do when these things happen to me, I took 6 seconds to scan the area for hidden cameras or Ashton Kutcher.

This is when things started going my way.

Just a couple feet away, a store manager (who obviously saw this all happen) acknowledged that a line was forming, announced that he could take the next person in line and blocked Mr. Punkass in the line like he was boxing out for a rebound. He personally ushered me to the next register leaving Mr. Punkass pouting behind us.

My Hero: “Ma’am, I’d be happy to take care of you at this register.”

Me: “Oh, that is very kind of you, thank you.”

But wait. That’s not the end of the story. It gets better.

It took me all of 4.3 seconds to pay for my items, and as I was putting my billfold back into my purse, I turned to see how long Mr. Punkass would be waiting in line. That’s when I got the best thrill of my week. Remember there was a lady in line first, with only one item? That one item needed a price check. And it was a gigantic economy-size box of tampons.

My friend.

My friend Dan is bummed tonight. I sent him a text (because if we were in Geometry class together, I'd pass him a note, but we're not) to see how he is doing but I wish I could give him a hug instead. He's a really strong guy though, so I know he's going to bounce back pretty fast.

My friend Erin got free turnips on her porch tonight. Maybe if she knew my friend Dan, she'd give him one. And maybe free hug too.

My friend Greg got fantastic news tonight. He's in class tonight, so I can't give him a hug or a high five, but if I had a turnip, I'd make the drive to his classroom and give it to him because that would totally be worth the confusion he'd show. And since he's in class tonight, I hope someone passes him a note with a smiley face on it to show their excitement for his good news.

My boyfriend Danny is working hard tonight. He took on a part-time job and I'm really proud of him. When I see him tonight, I'm going to give him a big hug. Or maybe I'll send him a note to tell him how proud I am of him.

Has anyone ever really tasted a turnip? What does it taste like? Dirt?

The new me.

I've made some big changes lately. See, I was in somewhat of a rut, and I needed to get out of it somehow. Life was getting WAY too routine, and since I haven't thought of a new monumental goal yet, I had to make some little tiny changes to shake things up a bit. Here are a few:

1. I changed ALL the presets on my radio in my car. Now, I still love my old stations, but they were getting so "ho-hum". Listening to "Mike, Zeke and Natalie" was getting about as annoying as listening to that awful SYTYCD judge scream about hot tamales. I wanted to punch them all in the throat. So now, I have a much better variety of music. Don't panic, but 2 of those presets are now Christian rock stations. (GASP!) Totally not like me, right? Well, I fell in love with NeedToBreathe and knew I'd hear more bands like them if I made this switch.

2. Each time I go to the grocery store, I buy something I've never tried before. How long have I been buying the same brand of chips? And the same flavors of breads, yogurts, and soups? For example, tonight I bought Special K Multigrain Crackers and I found out fast that they are SO MUCH BETTER and much healthier than Reduced Fat Wheat Thins. I plan on changing up my buying habits for a lot of the food and products I use. It might take a lot to get me to change my brand of OJ, but I'm going to work on it.

3. Early onset of gray hair runs in my family. Although I have always embraced my gray (and honestly, I've always thought it looked kinda cool), I dyed it before my oldest friend got married a couple weekends ago. My hair is a little darker and a lot shinier than it has been in a long time, and I LOVE it. A little color made me feel a lot more sophisticated. Of course, I still act like a moron, so the sophistication is just a feeling, not a reality.

4. I like to travel, and I don't mind investing in an exciting trip, but I never thought a big all-inclusive trip was necessary unless I was honeymooning. But a friend is getting married in Mexico in April, and I'm all about this all-inclusive thing. Did you know you can eat as many times as you want at these all-inclusive places? You can have breakfast, brunch, lunchfast, lunch, linner, dinner, and then some other in-between meals. I've already submitted my vacation request and planning what I want to wear. Probably something with an elastic waistband.

5. I have spent the last 5 minutes typing and deleting and typing and deleting an over-sharing of information about the change in my birth control. See, there's no need for you to know about that. Sorry.

Well, shit. I thought I had made a lot more changes but for the life of me, I can't think of any more. Maybe there aren't anymore. Maybe these tiny changes are just adding up.

Seriously. Try the Special K Crackers.

More specific please.

I would like to propose a new law. And I know this proposal is VERY not P.C., but just hear me out.

It should be required for all handicapped drivers who use handicapped logos on their cars (on license plates as well as on those temporary tags hung on the rear-view mirror) to broadcast specifically what their handicap is. That way, those of us who find ourselves driving in the same vicinity of these handicapped drivers can make a more appropriate assessment as to how we want to react to possible "unfortunate" driving skills.

For example, if I were driving behind a woman with a handicapped logo and her specific disability posted on her bumper that states: "I am operating without a corpus callosum", I'll understand why she drives like a complete idiot, and save the long list of profanities for a more deserving candidate. But the jackass who blew out his knee in 1996 jumping off a balcony at Mardi Gras and is incapable of driving like a human, is going to get the finger. Seriously.

So, do I need to start one of those petition things, or what?

Skittles spark inappropriate emails

I bought a large bag of Skittles to share with my coworkers. I sent a mass email saying:

"Stop by my cube if you want to 'taste the rainbow'."

About 4.6 seconds later, I was reminded how creative and kinda disgusting my coworkers are. They should all be ashamed. And I hope they live in fear of the same kind of HR phone call I got a couple years ago when I made fun of a coworker and accidentally copied him on the email. Ugh. That was a bad week.

but wait-

Wait! Before I go to bed...

Did you hear about that woman who was murdered by that VH1 reality show dude? He pulled out her teeth and cut off her fingers. The only way her body was identified was by the serial number on her breast implants. That is awful.

Um...

...so, I need to get breast implants. You know, just in case.

Tough week

I'm not one to complain (um, yeah I am), but it's been a tough week. Not just a normal tough week, but an emotional dunk-my-head-into-a-bucket-of-hormones-and-blow-my-nose tough week. Yeah. One of those. I pretty much cried at everything, and wanted to throw a fabulous irate fit in the middle of the housewares aisle at Wal-Mart. See, I was looking for a magazine rack to put next to the potty in the downstairs bathroom, and I couldn't find one. I caught myself right before I plopped down because there was a used kleenex right where I was going to put my hand, so I changed my mind about the whole fit thing.

I was also mad at everyone. Yes, I was probably mad at you. (Some person in Virginia reads my blog pretty regularly, I don't know who he/she is, but I was mad at him/her too. No reason.)

And I cried a lot because I missed everyone. Yes, I probably missed you, even though I was also mad at you.

So anyway, I'm feeling a little better. I missed you and I was mad at you but I am forgiving you.

You're welcome.