Saturday, April 20, 2013

So, I figured it was about time...

Like the typical ADHD dork that I am, I let my website domain expire. Duh. I was going to renew it, but then I'd have to re-upload all the pages and I really hadn't done that much with it in the first place. So, I figured I'd save myself the, what? $15 bucks or so and not renew it and just start blogging more. Or at least some. Once in awhile, anyway.  EDIT:  I finally did spend the $15 bucks to renew it and the site is up and running http://www.riamacalister.com

So, speaking of ADHD (or the adult version that I suffer from, ADOLAS--Adult Deficit...Oh! Look! A Squirrel!), I thought I might blog a bit about some of the more stupid interesting things I've done thanks to the lack of brain cell connection that makes organization and smart choices possible in some of us.  I'll add to this as I do more stupid interesting things. This could be a very long blog.

1.  While driving, I was smoking (back when I used to claim that habit) and had the car window down about 4 inches. I absently picked a piece of fuzz off my pants and used my right hand to flick it out the window (being that I live in the USA and we sit on the left side of the car, this meant I had to cross my arm across my chest to accomplish this feat of brainyism). I then decided to simultaneously roll the window up with my left hand (no clue why...seriously. I have no explanations or excuses for the stupid interesting things I do). My right hand was still sticking half-way out the window. Apparently that piece of fuzz was clinging on for dear life. When the excruciating pain from having my digits pinned between glass and metal set in, I panicked and did what any other stupid interesting person would do:  I pushed the "up" arrow even harder. Surprisingly, I didn't chop off any of my appendages, but they were bruised and lined for a lonnnnnng time. And to top it off, I nearly wrecked my SUV because I couldn't turn the steering wheel with my right arm pinning my left arm down. Sigh.

2.  Worked for an industrial supply company in the office. Sometimes I would help out at the customer counter or in the warehouse when the guys were really busy. For months, I was called to get a certain box off the top shelf for the guys whenever a particular customer would come in for this one part. Being that one of the guys was rather, uh, shall we say large and the other guy was kind of old, and the customer certainly wasn't going to be asked to climb a ladder to get his own part, I was happy to do this simple act for them. One day, the old more mature guy comes in and mentions this act of kindness I'd been performing. I played it down, saying it was not a problem at all for me to help them out. Rather magnanimous of me, if I did say so myself. He asks if I ever noticed that the only time I was ever asked to climb the ladder was the days I wore a mini skirt to the office. I said, perplexed, "Why, no, I hadn't thought about...gasp! YOU S.O.B.!" Which reminds me of #3.

3.  First job was working for the newspaper downtown. Windy day, tall buildings. Makes for hurricane-type weather. No one was on the street that day because of this. I mean, it was really bad. Children and small Buicks were blowing by. Well, what was worse than braving the wind was trying to park downtown. I had to go to the bank, so despite the weather being so awful, I decided to walk rather than Taekwondo'ing some old grandma for a parking place. I'm nice that way. Anyway, I was wearing a long, full skirt. (I know, you can see this coming...but hang on, it's even worse than you think). I was also wearing pantyhose. Just pantyhose. I figured the "panty" part in "pantyhose" meant I didn't need undergarments, right? Never mind that they were completely sheer to the waist. Who was ever going to see them? (This is where the aforementioned "it's even worse than you think" part comes in. Ahem.) Well, you know what happens next. Skirt literally went over my head. Yeah. Think Marilyn Monroe on that sidewalk vent, but with a wind generator blowing up the hoo hoo. When I was finally able to get my skirt back down where it was supposed to be and get the hair out of my eyes, I sheepishly looked around and was relieved to see that there wasn't a soul to be seen. Thank God! Oh, but just wait. My life is never that cool that I get away without witnesses. Nope. So, lo and behold, I'm at the Marine Recruiting Center. Right smack dab in the front of it. And standing in the window with their mouths open in what could have either been horror or delight, but most assuredly was shock either way, were five, count them five, Marines with nothing better to do on a windy day with no Marine hopefuls beating down their door than to stand at the glass and people watch. Cringe. One lovely young Marine started clapping, then they all got huge grins and gave me a standing ovation. I probably should have saluted. It probably would have been good if I had shaved that day too.

4.  Got ready for work, which of course included a shower, lotioning the bod, blow-drying the hair, curling it, hairspray, etc. Makeup, perfume, nice dress, pantyhose (with panties...I might be a dingbat, but I AM trainable), heels. Grab the purse, run out to the car. Down the road I notice I'm nearly out of gas. Great. I pull into the gas station, get out and start pumping gas. The stupid pump thingy (technical term...hope I don't lose anyone with the verbiage) doesn't have one of those trigger locks and I'll be DARNED if I'm going to stand there and hold it the entire time it takes to put ten dollars in. Yeah. I'm lazy. I admit it. Anyhooosen, I got my ATM card and shoved it under the trigger thingy (this word is good for a lot of applications) and nearly dislocated my shoulder, patting myself on the back for my ingenuity. I then decided to get my lipstick/hairbrush/who knows what out of my purse, so I stepped over the hose to head to the driver's door. Yep. I tripped. Did you know that when you shove an ATM card under the trigger thingy, the gas doesn't stop flowing just because it gets jerked out of the gas tank nozzle thingy? Well, aren't you just the smarty pants. I didn't know that at the time. Did you also know that when your clothes, hair and shoes get soaked in gasoline, they burn your skin? Yeah, I know that one now too.

Okay, so, I forgot about a lot of things, cuz, you know, ADOLAS and all that...but I'll come back with some more entertainment-at-my-expense as I think of things!

Over and out.


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