Wontons Served With An Attitude

So yesterday my friend took me to her favorite Chinese restaurant near the office.

She got me prepared as she pulled up to the strip mall that looked like it had been dipped in Chinatown on what to expect when we got to the restaurant.

She told me the food was amazing and that Chinese people ate here. It’s always a good sign to see Chinese people eating at a Chinese restaurant. It makes me nervous to walk into one that doesn’t.


She said that on weekends the line to get a table was out the door. Another good sign.

But then she also gave me a warning. People who work here are rude. They don’t pretend to be nice, they don’t care about you or your damn feelings.


We walked into the very large but relatively empty restaurant less than half filled at noon on a Monday.

I reminded myself that Monday was always the day the least people went out to lunch.

I tried to imagine how many people it took to fill that large restaurant on weekends and still manage to have a line of people trying to get in.

We walked in and were greeted by a man who seemed like the manager. He gave off a “manager vibe.” And by “greeted” I mean he looked at us with utter disdain and said nothing.

Finally since no one had asked us, we had to ask if we could sit.

He showed us to the table. And by that I mean, he grunted and begrudgingly pointed in the general direction of the right side of the room.

We walked over to an empty table ourselves unsure if this is where he wanted us to sit. I was almost scared he would yell at us for picking the wrong table.

It must have been right because he then walked over and held the menus in his hands, looked at each of us and let them drop on to the table with a loud thud. Then he grunted again and walked away.

A somewhat nicer lady came by who I assumed was our waitress and brought us green tea. When by “nicer” I  mean she didn’t give us the death stare the manager did.

Her look was more of a “I don’t care if you’re here or not” type of glare.

We went over the menus, and picked out what we wanted. The waitress came over and took our orders.

When I asked for brown rice instead of steamed rice she said they don’t have it. I was trying to be healthy in asking for the brown rice. So naturally I went with the very healthy option of pork fried rice (yeah I don’t see my logic either).

I have to admit, the food was amazing. The egg roll was crispy and just right. When the manager came by to take our appetizer plates away I told him so.

For the first time he spoke to me. He grumbled with a frown, “yeah but some people think it’s too crispy so..” and he walked away. It was hardly a love declaration but at least it was more than a glare and a grunt.

The duck sauce was real duck sauce with no food dyes, even the spicy mustard was different. The rice and my szechuan chicken was perfection. We were both happy with the food.

That’s when I realized why they are so rude here. Because they can be.

The food speaks for itself. When the food is really good you can be a jackass if you want to.

I understood their arrogance, their disdain and their need not to please the customer. The food does all of that. We don’t need their sweetness, kindness or smiles. The food does all that.

I’d rather have good food and mean waiter than a nice waiter and bad food-but that’s just me.

After we got the check we walked over to the cashier to pay. And by “cashier” I mean they guy who was sitting behind the counter eating a huge bowl of noodle soup.

He glanced over, said nothing, took a couple more bites, then begrudgingly walked over and took our money.

No one told us goodbye or hello for that matter. No one even bothered to wish us a nice day or thank us for coming.

But somehow it didn’t matter. I wasn’t even upset about it.

If this restaurant could have a motto it would be “Fuck you, and just..fuck you and then.. fuck you. But try our wonton soup it’s amazing!”


(pardon all the cursing ;)   )




Shhhh! I See Old People!!!!!!!

Why are people so afraid of old people? Two times in one week it was mentioned to me that elderly people were seen in my apartment building. It was told to me in the same manner you would whisper to someone that you think you just saw a ghost or worse, someone wearing stone washed jeans with a matching jacket .

Yes, they do (gasp) exist in my building along with people in their single digits, teens, twenties, thirties, forties and above too.
So, why are people so afraid of the elderly?
I think many of us see the elderly as a not so gentle reminder of what is to come. A reminder of grim reaper knocking at their door. An ambulance coming to the building thus creating a new vacancy. A person who will complain about the noise in your apartment ruining their mid-day nap. Someone who will stop you in the hallway to discuss their bunions in great detail and tell you that you are a perfect match for their grandchild, then pull out a picture of a rather unattractive person who is dressed for the 1970′s.
My friends, these are all stereotypes.
The truth is, my building is a microcosm of the world we live in. Every age group is represented. There are people above 70. There is also a high percentage of 20 something’s who can be found in the gym flexing their pecs and showing off their 6 pack abs (yes, I looked), and  by the pool sunning themselves. They are the ones leaving the building at 10 pm on a Thursday night because it’s “college night”. Then they come home early the next day and do the obligatory “walk of shame”.
Then you have your stay at home moms who you can see during the workday pushing their strollers and chasing their little ones as they almost knock people over and stopping them from pushing allll the buttons on the elevator as they go run errands. (The button thing always happens when I’m late for work)
Then you have the thirty and forty and fifty something’s who are usually seen in the building before 9 am and after 5pm rushing to and from work. They only exist in the building after hours.
Weekends you will see a conglomeration of everyone piled together trying to get along. The small children splashing in the pool to the annoyance of the elderly women who complain to the lifeguard, “shouldn’t it be adult swim now?” The fight for the shaded chaise lounges with the umbrellas begins right at pool opening where the elderly usually win because they showed up on time and they deserve a little shade.
I have yet to win those shaded chairs but one day I will. Even if I have to go at 2am and set up yellow caution tape and orange cones around those chairs, I will do what I have too do to reserve them.
Twice people told me they came to my building during the workday and saw elderly people in the lobby, got scared and ran away.
Perhaps it was because everyone else was at work or school?
What are they going to do to you anyways? Chase you with their walker? Hit you over the head with their canes? I don’t condone violence but that would definitely make my daily walk through the lobby more action packed and exciting. Of course I would never make it to my apartment in time before a good caning because that damn electronic key never ever ever works on the first try. Sigh…I miss keys.
I don’t have all the answers. All I can say is the same way you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, you shouldn’t judge a building by who is chilling in the lobby at 1pm on a Wednesday.
Remember, one day you will be old and fabulous too :)


The Password Debacle

I learned today that my life is controlled by a series of passwords that I cannot remember. It is amazing how many passwords the average person must remember in order to function in their daily lives. If you are the poor unfortunate soul who forgot a few passwords and may God help you if you forgot your user ID and even the so-called, ”secret answer to the secret security question” in order to reset that password and are now lost and alone in the world wandering aimlessly looking for your passwords, user ID and other forms of proof that you are who you allegedly claim you are…then read on..you are not alone.

Today I got an I Pad. I love this thing. However, it was during the configuration and set up of my I Pad that I was faced with my biggest fear of remembering passwords. Everytime it would ask me for a user id and password for something, my heart would skip a beat like I was taking a test that I did not study for.

 I had to recall my Wi Fi password, Gmail password, Yahoo password, Pandora password, Twitter password, Facebook password, and many many many more. By the end of it, I had to pull myself out of the fetal position and make a cup of tea to soothe my nerves. It was an ordeal.

I know these things should be memorized but with the constant use of my IPhone which never forces me to log in ever again as long as I live.  I haven’t had to type my password to almost anything in years. It forced me into a lazy paradise where I remembered nothing.

I have a problem where I keep my passwords in a safe place but fail to update them when they change.

Right now, I am aimlessly floating in the world without a clue as to what my Yahoo password is. I don’t even know the answer to the secret question! Sad, but true. I changed my password a while back and never wrote it down. I’m going to give my brain some rest and sleep on this one and hope it comes to me at 2 AM like most great ideas do. I’ll wake up screaming, “I got it!!! It’s schlim schlam!” (you know all passwords are wierd)

Remember when life was simpler? Ok, it was less fun with my parents Zenith TV set when I was a kid and had an antenna on top that was constantly in the wrong position. The TV screen would turn snowy every time someone walked into the room and in the vicinity of the TV.  As soon as we would get to the part of the movie when things got interesting, someone would walk in and ruin the picture and we would all scream at them. We had to tiptoe around the TV back then.  But at least we didn’t need a password to turn the TV on :)

I hope one day it doesn’t get worse and we need a password to get into our houses or cars. I would spend many days sleeping on my porch or having to take the bus home.

I blame myself. I should be more organized with stuff and try to memorize everything like I used to before gadgets.

Lesson learned.




Today I saw a sign in front of a church that read, “Learn to laugh at yourself. You will never run out of things to laugh about”……words of wisdom….

If you take yourself too seriously you will become a bore. No one will want to hang out with you because you are boring and pitiful. Not a pretty picture. No one ever says, “Wow, you seem really dull!! Let’s hang out!!”

Instead learn to laugh at yourself and the wierd world we live in. Sometimes when someone is taking themselves too seriously and working themselves into a tizzy over it, I have to stop myself from laughing at them. Other times, I am that person who is taking myself too seriously and I need to snap myself out of it.  

Yesterday I had a patient in the dental chair and I was about to start the procedure. I reclined their chair back so I could start. Suddenly, the chair made a sound of a spring coming out of place. It made a loud, “Boinnng!” sound reminicent of those cartoons I watched as a kid right before something fell apart. I said, “That’s not a good sound”. My assistant and I looked at each other and started laughing. This was the last straw.

My dental chair is relatively new, yet has a million problems. It’s leaking hydraulic fluid…yes, actual hydraulic fluid (according to the repair guy), things are falling off of it, sometimes the water works, sometimes it doesn’t. It depends on the chair’s mood that day.

It reminds me of the first car I ever drove. An old chrysler fifth avenue my dad gave me when I was 16. He gave me the car that looked like a boat to protect me from bodily harm should I hit anything. I could dock that boat anywhere with keen precision. It was amazing. The only thing that worked well on it was the AC. The AC was magnificent.

However, the car did a 180 if you braked too hard, the engine was always flooded, it would stall as soon as I would pull into traffic, and I spent more time walking than driving because it was always leaving me stranded. When the car did work, I had to enter it from the passenger side because the driver’s side door lock didn’t work. The windshield fluid button thingy didn’t work either, so I had to keep a container of Windex in my car and manually clean the windshield in the winter when salt would get on it. Oh, it was a special car.

Whenever the car would actually start I would be pleasantly shocked and surprised. My dental chair is the 1987 chrysler fifth avenue of dental chairs. Yet, I have to laugh, otherwise I will throw it out the window. I think a cab driver bought the chrysler from us…God help him.

Sometimes people will want to invent things to worry and be serious about. One day I was sitting on the train with a friend who suddenly asked me a series of “what ifs”. Her “what ifs” soon became insane ramblings. She said what if one day there is an illness that turns into an epidemic that turns into a worldwide pandemic that makes everyone turn into zombies. What if the whole world becomes zombies and we all die a big fat zombie death, she asked me with fear in her eyes. (give her a break, she was really really tired that day)

I looked at her and lazily said with a shrug of my shoulders, “Hey, what are you gonna do.”….at least everything in the malls will be free.  I was in no mood to take on that particular problem that day. How did talking about the weather turn into a discussion of an impending zombie apocalypse? I still don’t know.

Anyways, the point is, don’t be too serious, and don’t invent things to go crazy about either. Just laugh at it all.

Laugh at yourself, and if you need more inspiration, read about what the politicians had to say today..that usually makes for a great laugh….Sorry, D.C. did I offend you?




The House Was Leaning!

My spam filter is not holding up its end of the deal anymore. Lately I have been getting 40 spam comments a day in my blog inbox. They are all from the same site trying to sell viagra. It’s not even a regular viagra site. It is called a “cheap viagra site”. Great. Wonderful. Thanks. I feel so honored. I’m not good enough for the real stuff. Yes, cheap Viagra has targeted my site. The comments it leaves makes absolutely no sense in the English language..or any language for that matter.

It says silly things such as “blog a blog great more read thanks”..it sounds almost like a compliment if you drink a bottle of wine alone, close one eye and read it while you are in an upside down yoga position. It may even make it more fun to read the comments that way.

My absolute favorite comment it left was, “have for I more for great a would huge I will Hello like this give on blog thumbs”. Made your brain hurt just reading it didn’t it? For that I apologize, but I just wanted to share my confusion and pain with you. Reading it makes me want to make sense of it, but it is an exercise in futility.

It reminds me of the time when a friend of mine in school was contemplating renting a townhouse that was on a slant. The entire house was on a slant. He made us come with him to look at it and tell him if the slant was “really that bad”. I walked into the house and immediately wanted to crawl on the floor because I would feel more comfortable that way. I walked around the house feeling like I was at the end of the movie Titanic when the ship was sinking and on a slant and everyone not holding on to anything went careening into the water. When he asked me, “What do you think?” I asked him for a life raft. I told him the only a person who would feel comfortable in that house is someone who was constantly drunk. What were they thinking building a house like that? But then again, this was in downtown Baltimore so…..

But I am getting off topic here. One of the comments from the cheap viagra site was “excellent Zune hope well for as the …” and it goes on…It called me Zune! Now I’m even more confused.

I decided to write this silly post in an effort to find humor in something that annoys me thoroughly. If I can’t laugh at what irritates me in this world, then what is the point? :) Also, if you can laugh at these things then it no longer has any power over you.

So anyways..good night and most importantly, “thanks is place me Your for valuable” …my thoughts exactly.



Let Them Eat Candy



There is something that has been on my mind for the last 9 years that I really must get out there and into the open. I can’t hold it in any longer. There are things that must be said.

Yesterday I was in the middle of treating a patient when one of the dental assistants walked into the operatory. She whispered to my assistant asking if she had any candy. My assistant informed her that she had a bag of Werther’s candy. The other assistant sounded relieved because she was hungry.

This whispered conversation happened in front of me (dentist) and my patient (dental patient) who was currently sitting in the chair getting work done. Hmmmm what is wrong with this picture?

At the end of their conversation I laughed out loud and told both of them they should be ashamed of themselves to have the nerve to have that conversation in front of my patient and myself. My patient laughed. I’m glad she was amused and not mortified.

Later, I began thinking about this candy issue. Many of the patients walk in with candy in their mouths that they hastily remove seconds before sitting in the chair. Some (especially kids) ask me for candy. This has never ceased to amaze me.  


Do you go to the dermatologist and carry a tanning bed with you?

It’s like going to the cardiologist’s office carrying a vat of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream with a slab of chocolate covered bacon sticking out of it and using the bacon as a spoon to feed yourself the ice cream.   

It’s like getting a physical and taking the stress test and smoking a cigarette at the same time.

It’s like going to the gym and running on the elliptical while you are drinking a six pack of beer.  

It’s like waking up from the anesthesia after a triple bypass heart surgery and asking the nurse to bring you a pound of butter so you can slather it all over your pancakes that your friend smuggled into the hospital for you.

It’s like an asthmatic wheezing and using a rescue inhalor with one hand and smoking a cigar with the other.

You don’t do any of that do you?

If you do, you are hilarious and I want to be your friend.  But that being said, I have never understood why patients bring candy, and soda into the office. They bring that gigantic tub of soda into the exam room and rest it right on the counter right in front of me. Then when I find 900 cavities, they are confused. LOL

I’m not a moron, I know people drink soda, eat candy, don’t floss etc etc. But must you flaunt it in front of your dentist? Must you sit in the dental chair with   chocolate still not completely chewed inside your mouth? Do I have to ask you to remove the Sour Patch Kid candy resting on your tongue so that I can check for cavities?

I know that people do all of these things but I prefer to be lied to. Let me live in blissful ignorance about your bad habits. You tell me you never eat candy or soda and I will nod and smile and know it’s a lie but never call you out on it. Isn’t that better?

But noooo, everyone has to be soo honest with me ;)

Honestly, I’m not mad. I just think its hilarious and it always makes me giggle.

Dentists are no better either, trust me. Dentists send each other professional gift baskets filled with sweets and candy for holidays or any old day. We don’t need holidays anymore. Even this one dental supply company we work with ships us dental supplies often including a complimentary bag of candy in with the order. I of course always never ever ever partake in that candy bag. Ever..That would be hypocritical of me.

 Perhaps I’m just going about this the wrong way. If you can’t beat em, join em. Maybe I will leave a huge bowl of candy in the waiting room and put one in each operatory too. I can even put a soda machine in the waiting room. I throw my hands up and give up.

Let them eat candy and drink soda. It’s not like they are going to listen to me anyways ;)

 Happy candy eating!!!!



This evening began like any other and ended with a 911 call and 2 fire engines in front of my house.

Let me take it from the beginning:

7:00 pm: I sat in a rather boring Continuing Education course on risk management that was only made remotely interesting because I was eating cheesecake. Cheesecake can make anything better. In fact I think they should let you eat cheesecake in all boring situations. It makes the time go by.

 So as an attorney droned on endlessly about how everyone likes to sue dentists for the pure joy of it and without cause, happier thoughts were running through my mind on, “how did they get the blueberry to swirl into the cheesecake so perfectly? Its magic I tell you!! Pure magic!”

7:30pm: I walked out of the boring CE course and to my car. I almost got sideswiped by a guy in a truck who decided that nodding at me as he drove by is enough of an apology. I sighed and got in the car.

7:31pm: I looked at the gas tank and gasped at the needle resting precariously on “E”. I silently prayed that my car would make it to the nearest gas station.

7:35ish : My car wheezed itself to the nearest gas station and got its fill. I then re-evaluated why I wait until my car is on fumes before I fill the tank. Maybe I like the thrill. ;)

8:00ish: I got home, walked inside, turned on the lights (this part is important for later) and then I smelled the offensive odor permeating my house.

8:01pm: I turned on more lights (important for later) and walked around looking for a dead deer in my house. Yes, that is what it smelled like. I looked all over. I luckily never found a deer or any carcass.

8:02pm: My mind traveled back to a time when the propane guy was at my house 2 years ago and told me to look out for the smell of propane in the house. Oh fabulous, the house smells like gas.

8:03pm: My inner 5 year old compelled me to call my parents. My father told me to call 911. My worried mother (who should not be alerted to such things decided to come over and I quote, “smell my house”) I decided to call the propane company first.

8:05pm: I’m on the phone with the propane company emergency line. The guy takes down my name and nature of the emergency. He tells me to open the windows. As he is getting my phone number, the call disconnects.

8:06pm: I call him back. He answers in a state of absolute panic. He says, “Caroline! You scared me! Thank God you are ok!! I was thinking the worst!” Friends, when the person who is supposed to keep you calm is panicking themselves, it is not a good sign.

He should not be the one to call if someone is standing on a ledge. He should not write hallmark cards either. It reminded me of last summer when the earthquake happened in D.C. and I was on the phone with my father and the line cut off right before I said, “omg it’s an earthquake!”

He tells me that someone will call me in a few minutes and to go outside. This is good advice because at this point I am now woozy from the smell.

8:10pm: I call my brother in law. He tells me to call 911. My answer, “but I don’t want to bother 911″. My own words sounded ridiculous to me.

8:12pm: I go to the backyard to check the propane tank. I realize that I have not cleaned up the neglected yard. It looks like the amazon back there. Monkeys are swinging from vines, the weeds are trying to wrap around me like those plants from Little Shop of Horrors (obligatory 80′s reference). I find the propane tank behind 8000 weeds, a tree that doesn’t belong there, and a vine that looks like it is angry that I am there.

8:13pm: I decide that I cannot make it to the tank, and even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to do when and if I got to it. Instead I decide to do some inappropriately timed de-weeding. I realize that if I do end up calling the fire department, I can’t let them see my backyard like this!! ( yes, I would be that girl who would clean the house before the maid got there so she wouldn’t think I am messy)

8:15pm: I’m de-weeding my backyard while my house smells like gas, still waiting for the propane guy to call me back and on my cell phone with my father. I’m an insane multitasker. He encourages me to call 911.

8:18pm; I am in the front of my house now and about to dial 911 when the propane guy calls. This second person is the opposite of the first person. The first guy was a nervous nelly, this guy doesn’t give a damn…at all. He tells me to go check the tank. I tell him the tank is in the middle of the amazonian rainforest and I can’t get to it. He laughs at me.

8:22pm: I battled mosquitos, spiders, and ants..oh God the ants and somehow managed to climb and dig my way to the propane tank. It reminded me of that movie Romancing the Stone when Michael Douglas was using a machete to cut his way through the forests in Columbia. I could have used a machete tonight. (will put that on my ‘to buy’ list..do they sell those at Home Depot? Is there a machete aisle? No? Ok.)

8:23pm: The guy told me to turn the tank valve to the off position. He must have really thought I was an idiot because he told me to turn it clockwise to close it. He was afraid I did not know what clockwise was so he said, “remember lefty loosy, righty tighty”. Seriously?

I let out a scream. He asked me what happened and I told him, “spiders!”. He laughed again. I told him the valve was already closed. He said, “uh…really? I wonder why?” That did not make me feel better.

He asked me for my address and said he has never heard of my city ever in his life. I live in a major city that everyone knows about. How is that possible? He said my town, “doesn’t ring a bell”.  I began naming major cities right next to me in the Washington D.C. area and he still didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. Where does he live? Narnia? He kept asking me if I was sure that was the name of my town. Wow, he must really think I’m an idiot.

He then decides that I will be fine and he doesn’t need to come out to my house. He said I am too far away anyways. (how does he know that when he doesn’t even know where I am)

This is code for him being too lazy to come to my house at the potential gas leak. He actually tells me to just open some windows and all will be well. He says, “don’t worry maam, if your house was going to explode it would have done it by now”. Comforting. He should write greeting cards.

8:26pm: I finally decide to call 911. (this should have been my first call)

8:31pm: I am standing in front of my house on the phone with my father. Then I hear sirens in the distance. I hope that all of that artillery is not for me. The sirens get louder and louder.

8:32pm: 2 fire engines with sirens blaring show up in front of my house.

8:34pm: 4 good looking firemen go through my house and check everything. I am glad my house is clean. ( yes, I have issues. If there is ever an apocalypse, I will be the one making sure the carpets are vacuumed in time for the apocalypse)

8:40pm: The firemen declare all is well and advise me to have the propane company check it out too. ugh, that means I have to call them again. I am grateful for the fire department. They really are the best..and good looking too ;)

I almost wanted to apologize to them for the house not being on fire.

8:41pm: By this time all of my neighbors are outside and excited by all the commotion. They look to me for an explanation. They tell me I did the right thing by calling.

8:50pm: My mother arrives and finds everyone and their dog on my lawn. It was like an impromptu party.

8:55pm: My brother in law calls me to ask if I turned the lights on when I entered the house and smelled the gas. “Yes”, I said. He laughed and said he had a bet going with my sister about that. Apparently I could have blown up my house with that spark of electricity. Hey, in my defense, I turned on the lights and then I smelled the gas. He then asked me if I kept turning lights on after I realized it was gas…….I plead the fifth here..

9:00pm: My mother gives the house the sniff test. Yes, it stinks, is the diagnosis. By this time, I had left the front door open so long, all of the mosquitos, gnats, and moths had made my house their safe haven. I will be swatting at things the rest of the night.

9:15pm: I realized I had a serious case of the creepy crawleys. I kept swatting at bugs that weren’t there.  After foraging in the backyard, I was now covered with mosquito bites, and I had inhaled enough allergens to work me into an itchy tizzy.

10:00pm: After verifying that my house does smell bad, and that I am alive, my mom left. Thanks mom!

10:15pm: I shower and wash off the pollen, ragweed and God knows what else. My backyard is going to give me nightmares.

11:00pm: I am thankful that my house did not blow up today. When I thought it was going to I realized that I should get all the valuables out of the house. Then I had an epiphany that the only valuable in the house was me. I walked out of the house earlier tonight with just my house keys.

Interesting. I have always wondered what I would do in case of an emergency where I would have to evacuate the house. I even formed a game plan in my head of grabbing the diplomas and other important stuff and what rooms I would go into and in what order to get them. Tonight I learned I would leave it all behind and just get myself out. In a potential emergency it always becomes very clear what is really important.



The day started with me opening my front door and discovering two guys mowing the tiny lawn in front of my house. For some reason the endeavor involved two lawn mowers and not one but two leaf blowers. It was a lot of heavy artillery for a tiny lawn. It took them all of two seconds to finish the job. It is like using a machete to slice an apple. It won’t take you long.

Regardless, I was grateful for them. The front yard had grown so long that forest animals were forming habitats there. My sister told me to declare it an environmental protected zone to avoid the wrath of my homeowners association. I doubt that would work. I kid you not, the President of the HOA was watching the men work. It was as if she wanted to make sure it got done right.

I was so grateful to these two men that I opened the door to thank them. They seemed irritated with me for making them pause their leaf blowing to see what I wanted. When they discovered that they had to stop their machines to hear a ‘thank you’, they didn’t seem happy about it. People with leaf blowers don’t like to stop, so you better have a good reason. Nevermind, there is never a good reason. The act of opening my door to say thank you brought in enough allergens in my house to make anyone with seasonal allergies head for the hills.

The work day was basically normal. I left the building with our security guard scolding me for always being in a hurry. I realized how a total stranger can be so right. Sometimes it takes someone we don’t know to point out what we don’t realize about ourselves. I thought about this as I hurried to get my car ;)   I had to run a few errands and it required a lot of driving. After 2.5 hours in the car and errands done, I finally got home. I even said ‘woo hoo’ when I turned into my neighborhood. That’s how I know I was tired.

When I got home I discovered that for some reason I had an insane craving for chinese food that could not be tamed. I had to have it. Funny thing about cravings, nothing on earth will satisfy you except the thing that you want. I never order Chinese takeout anymore. Maybe once or twice a year at the most. Maybe I was too tired to deal with anything else.

What did I learn today?

1) Never ever disturb someone with a leaf blower. There is never a reason to do this. There are no exceptions to this rule.

2) If you are about to leave work thinking that you left something behind, you probably did. Check and re-check so that you don’t have to walk back into the building again looking silly.

3) There is never a need to get onto 495 in evening rush hour for any reason. Back roads are there for a reason and I am glad I used them today and avoided the parking lot that was 495.

4) As soon as you fix the broken fax machine and are able to recieve faxes, it will run out of ink.

5) I found a chinese takeout place that delivers within 15 minutes of your order. It was almost like this place I have never ordered from before was expecting my call and knew what I wanted. Maybe they are clairvoyant.

6) I need to stop rushing

7) I think I want to go buy my own leaf blower. I can turn it on anytime I want to avoid a conversation. People will be forced not to interrupt me for fear they will break the covenant of the leaf blower.

Things that I still haven’t figured out today:

1) What the source of that awful smell is that comes through the vents in our office building. It smelled like a cross between the C & O canal in August, a city dump, and 1,000 toilets overflowing all at once. (did I crystallize the imagery for you?) It’s bad. The mystery continues. If we ask our slum lords management company, they will just say, “what smell?”

2) Why did the lady who made my cafe mocha at Pret make an adorable star shape out of the mocha powder in my drink when I have a lid on the cup. The thought was nice, but I can’t even see it. It is like wearing a ball gown then putting a garbage bag over it. Ok, maybe not that bad. But it was still nice of her.

Overall, I’d say it was a pretty successful day!


Until tomorrow,




Eating Soup With a Fork

Some days can be as frustrating as trying to eat a bowl of soup with a fork. The key is to try to find the humor in it and move on.

I had an odd day today. Other than dealing with a few strange situations, I also found the answer to that old joke of “how many people does it take to screw in a lightbulb”. In my case it was really, “how many people does it take to remove and screw in a dental light bulb?”

You know that light in the dental chair that the dentist uses to illuminate so they can see clearly in your mouth? Yes, that one. Dealing with a simple light bulb change took up the better half of my day.

I will explain this silly scenario. The bulb went out and it was the first time anyone at the office has ever had to change it.

Long story short, removing the bulb was not as easy as imagined and I ended up having to dissasemble the entire fixture and still could not get to the bulb to remove it.

After many attempts by myself, the staff and 2 technicians on the phone, we still could not get the bulb out.

How many people does it take to change a dental bulb? Two dentists, two assistants, one random window washer (don’t ask), one dental chair repairman on the phone walking me through the process, and one tech support guy from the chair’s manufacturer.

I even sent cell phone pictures of the offending bulb to the repairmen showing them the problem. In the end, all of us put together could not solve the problem. We will all try again tomorrow. Seriously, I am not making this up. This was a chunk of my day.

Here is the picture of the bulb that mankind cannot remove. Doesn’t it look so innocent and easy to take off? Don’t be fooled.

As I sat there at lunch eating my soup with a fork, (yes this actually happened too. I forgot my spoon, ate the chunky parts with a fork and drank the rest) and stared at my hands that were sore from trying to use a wrench to remove the bulb, I began to laugh to myself. I was able to find humor in this otherwise difficult day.

I turned a potentially stressful situation that would make anyone frustrated into something laughable.

What is the point of my light bulb saga? Humor is all around us if we are willing to look past the potential drama and see it.

Look for the humor, especially in ridiculous situations and it can turn your whole day around.

I will never forget the time I was sitting on the plane waiting for 3 hours on the runway for take off. We were all frustrated, and upset.

Many of us including my friend and I were worried we were going to miss our connecting flight because we were delayed for so long.

Suddenly the pilot gets on the intercom and says, “Due to the weather in New York we are going to have to take a different flight pattern and we may have enough fuel to get there with the new flight pattern but I don’t want to take the chance so we are probably going to go back to the gate to get more fuel”.

None of us could believe it and the entire plane erupted in laughter. We were able to find hilarity in the fact that the pilot ( who was not joking at all by the way) spoke so nonchalantly about the possibility of running out of fuel mid-air. It was insanity, but at the same time, I have never laughed so hard.

Whatever day you are having, if you can find a little humor in it, you will be a happier person. If we let things get too serious and forget to laugh, then what is the point?

If you can manage to laugh especially in the middle of a difficult day, it will make you stronger and you will live longer. Laughter really is the best medicine.

Now as for me and the light bulb debacle, it shall continue tomorrow. Really, there is something seriously wrong with this thing. I fix things all the time around the house. I also know how to turn things counterclockwise. Lefty loosey, righty tighty did not help me today. Oh well…