Pickles & Dimes

I think it’s time that I write about harder hitting subject matters than what’s been posted on P&D so far. Hey, Shauna and I are deeper than posts about kitties and traffic. I’ve been debating if I should weigh in on the political front in America, what’s going on in Iraq or the feud between The Donald and Rosie (hint: can’t stand either.)

Oops… gotta’ go!

This is priority number one tonight!

Turning Lanes

For only having a 7-mile commute, I encounter an unbelievable amount of idiotic traffic behavior. Volume 7 deals with an intersection half a block from my house that is so problematic I sometimes find myself taking a different route just to avoid the potential of dying due to someone else’s idiocy.

After the stoplight one block from my house, there is a center turning lane. It is a double turning lane, meaning drivers from both directions can use it to turn left.

Seems pretty straightforward, right? Ha. HAAAA. (more…)

Like every human being, I have regrets. Regrets about things I’ve done, things I’ve said, things I haven’t done or said. Some little regrets, some big.

I know that hindsight is 20-20 and making mistakes is part of growing up, but I wish I could’ve spared myself some indignities by writing a letter to the younger versions of me. This continued work-in-progress would probably look like this:

Age 4: Don’t put that blue crayon up your nose. That will probably be the reason you have breathing issues later. Also, it’s probably not a good idea to eat all the magnets out of your alphabet letter set.

Age 5: Try to wear something to kindergarten other than your bright yellow Ronald McDonald dress.

Age 6: When told by your teacher to get rid of your gum, don’t retrieve it from the garbage can two hours later.

Age 7: Don’t agree to be Michael’s girlfriend. He will dump you at the roller rink, and in a feeble attempt to show him what he’s missing, you will attempt to do a cartwheel while on your skates. You won’t break your wrist, but it’ll feel like you did.

Age 8: Don’t shove that entire orange slice into your mouth. You will nearly die because you will be too embarrassed to tell anyone you are choking.

Age 9: Don’t get your hair cut so short on the sides. That is called a mullet and your school picture will mock you forever. Also, do not ever speak of the so-called “rat tail” again.

Age 10: Save your allowance. Don’t squander it on Twix and Tahitian Treat.

Age 11: You should maybe not collect so many cat or unicorn figurines.

Age 13: Remember that when the orthodontist asks: “What color do you want?” they are referring to your retainer, not your fluoride treatment. Therefore, your response should not be: “Green – for mint-flavored.”

Age 15: Remember that Mom will still consider “frick” a curse word.

Age 16: You should probably speak up when you start to get vertigo and your vision disappears entirely even though you never faint, because having to be led to a booth at that McDonald’s like a blind person will be humiliating. You should remember this advice, because it will happen a few more embarrassing times in your future, and will result in you missing the end of The Frighteners, all because you will get a migraine so bad you will lose your vision and attempt not to vomit on your shoes.

Age 17: Don’t forgo attending the prom with your best friend Tom in order to go with his friend Andy. You will end up hating Andy so badly that on your senior trip you will only half-jokingly attempt to drown each other in the hot tub.

Age 18-24: Enjoy all those comments from people complaining about how skinny you are. Seriously.

Age 19: Pay more attention during computer programming class. And Astronomy. However, your mass communications professor will be a sexist pig, so go ahead and keep ignoring everything he says.

Age 20: Don’t chicken out of auditioning to be a news anchor for your college’s news program. Also, when given a last-minute reporting assignment about “calf scours,” take the time to research it even though your interview is in 20 minutes and the drive there will take 19. That way you won’t be humiliated to discover that you were tapped to do a report about bovine diarrhea.

Age 21: Do not purchase those overalls. Just don’t.

Age 22: Do not buy that Ford Tempo. You will need to keep the car battery plugged into a block heater every day during the winter until JUNE. And then the air conditioning will stop working.

Age 23: Don’t move into that sketchy studio apartment. You will inherit upstairs neighbors who are attempting to become the world’s first furniture-throwing professional wrestlers, and you will lose a lot of your important paperwork when the flood occurs.

Ages 23-32: Save your money. Don’t squander it on Twix and Tahitian Treat.

Last night I had to remove another algae eater from our aquarium. That’s the second in about a month. This time I didn’t enlist Shauna’s help, considering the last time I asked, she stood eight feet away, arms outstretched, possibly expecting me to fling it at her into the paper towel.

We’ve been keeping a close eye on this algae eater for about a week now, and realized last night that the goldfish have been nibbling on him. This weekend we will be doing a water change and purchasing a couple of new algae eaters. I am afraid though that the four, three-year-old goldfish that look like they’re ready to be filleted are going to devour them like minnows from the bait shop. These are the same goldfish that ate two snails right out of their shells two years ago. Shauna’s even nervous about sticking her hand in there to feed them, fearing they may go piranha on her.

Those goldfish are the best 25 cents we’ve ever spent.