Random musings..

Wow; it's been a less-than-perfect day here in Yellow Dog Land. Nothing too major, but it was one of those mornings and early afternoon days where you have absolutely no time to catch your breath or think before you're immersed in a mindless task and contemplating your student loan debt on an education clearly being utilized to its fullest worth.
However, as part of my new "stay positive" strategy, I shall not dwell on it and be cranky for the rest of the day.
I will say these things about it, and then, in the immortal words of that poet laureate Forrest Gump, I will say, "And that's all I have to say about that."
First of all, there is a woman I work with who sings and hums ALL FUCKING DAY long. We've all had some experience with these kinds of people, I know. And it's not as though she's particularly cheery; in fact, most of the time, she's dropping curse words about what seems to be the overwhelming task of her job.
Whatever; I don't even really know what she does, so I'll not make a value judgment about that. But, as much as her streaming concert annoys me, who sits quite a bit away from her, if I sat next to her, I would most definitely employ a taser gun that I was intrigued to hear about on NPR today.
Second of all, I have been the brunt of some disproportionately sleazy behavior from older men in the last few months, and quite frankly, I'm growing tired of it. I mean, I'm an attractive girl, fun at parties, and a wicked speller, but I tend to think it has way less to do with me than with them.
Earlier today, when I was mired in the murky depths of a crappy morning, an older male co-worker had an entire conversation with my breasts.
What accounts for this decidedly unsavory turn of events in my life?
I honestly can't answer that, but I tell you this now, I'm putting people on notice. I'm tired of it, and if I get that taser gun, I'm gonna start shocking the hell out of some sad, old men who need to get their shit together.
And that's all I have to say about that.
This morning, when the bracing Pennsylvania wind blew under my skirt, I began to imagine being at the beach.
I love the beach, as my family went to Gulf Shores, Alabama, every year from the time I was five until the time I was 14.
So, when I was thinking about the beach, I thought about the last time we all went together.
It was not one of my prouder moments, this I can tell you.
My friend, Bebe, who was the single worst influence in my life until we ceased to be friends at 17, had joined us on vacation. She and I met some boys who were either 18 or 19, so, naturally, we told them we were 16. I looked older then than I do now, well, older than my age. I wish I looked 18..anyway, I digress.
So, we met up with aforementioned oblivious pedophiles at the beach after having dinner with my parents. I proceeded to drink about five screwdrivers, not really noticing that the time we were supposed to walk back upstairs had come and gone two hours previously.
So, in the midst of being drunk out of my mind, I see my sister through the Taaka Vodka haze, and she doesn't look happy.
She and my brother-in-law yanked us off the beach, and we went up to the condo. Meanwhile, I can barely stand up and really would like to vomit, but I'm trying to act sober..ha. You can imagine how swimmingly that went.
We get inside, and my sister, God love her, yells,"Are you DRUNK"? People seven floors down heard her, let alone my parents and grandparents, so I got into a bit of trouble for that.
Actually, that's an understatement. Because of that little vacation incident, I was, um..encouraged strongly to transfer from the private school I had been attending my whole life to a public school where my mom was going to be the guidance counselor, so she "could keep an eye on me."
The irony is that even with my mom there, I met more "bad kids" who introduced me to things I could never have dreamed of at my private school.
Ha.
So, the moral of the story is, if I were to travel to the wonderful,warm beach, I would stay away from cheap vodka and the men who try to ply me with it.