Hmmm...

I was at Walgreen's two days ago. They had one of those makeshift "clinics" set up for Swine Flu vaccinations. I was perusing the "As Seen on TV" aisle when I overheard a conversation with an 80-year-old woman and one of the nurses at the check-in table. The dialogue went a little something like this:

Customer (as she is handing in her completely filled out paper work): What is this for?

Nurse (taking the clipboard from the woman): It's for the flu vaccine

Customer: The what?

Nurse: For the flu. You know, the N1H1 flu

Me (in my head): I could have sworn the "Swine Flu" was the H1N1...unless every single media source and newbroadcaster has gotten the letters mixed up until now?! And why wouldn't you just say the "Swine Flu," lady?

Customer: Oh, well, do you think I should get the shot?

Me (again, in my head): I thought you already handed in the preliminary paper work SO that you COULD get the shot?

Nurse: Well, it's up to you. It won't protect you from the seasonal flu

Customer: The what?

Nurse: The seasonal flu. You know, the regular flu.

Customer: What's the difference....

Me (in my head): I have to walk away before I pass out from frustration...

...and so I did. I walked away and left the two to continue their riveting conversation. And then I laughed (possibly out loud) because I'm a really mean person inside sometimes. Happy Holidays! And here's hoping you don't get the N1H1...Until next time ;)

Movie Morons

Here's the thing: No matter when, where, or why my family and I choose to go to a movie, we end up surrounded by idiots. It is a phenomenon. It never ceases to amaze me. Let's take for example yesterday. My mom, sister, and I have anxiously awaited the release of New Moon (like every other female in the world), say, since November 21, 2008 when we saw the first installment of The Twilight Saga (screams and squeals). I did my part to make this the most enjoyable experience EVER, even avoiding the midnight showing so that I would ensure a more "calm" crowd and decrease the chance of me wanting to punch somebody in the face. We bought tickets weeks in advance, and even had a designated "place holder" in line--please don't act like you don't know what I am talking about. We even scored a prime-timer in the parking lot. Our "seat scout" got us THE perfect seats, smack dab in the middle of the theater, not too close, not too far away (Thank you, Mom. You're the best). With our Diet Cokes, fabulous seats, and no warning signs of potential morons in sight, it seemed us Nelson girls had successfully outsmarted our typical movie-going luck. Sigh.

But of course, we were wrong. Just as the opening scene began rolling, two large women came shuffling down the aisle, bumping and tripping along the way, knocking over buckets of popcorn and obstructing the view of fellow movie patrons. And where do they sit? In the ONLY two empty seats left in the entire theater, right next to my sister, Michelle. Initially, it wasn't so bad, just annoying that they would dare interrupt the sacredness of New Moon by being late. But again, they lived up to the standard of incredulousness that plagues humanity. The woman sitting directly to the left of my sister was really a gem. The following is a list of her behavior throughout the movie:

1) She successfully unwrapped two individually wrapped Smarties packages after, oh, about 30 minutes of wrapper "crinkling." Congratulations, lady. You're obsurd. Seriously?! Seriously? Who eats Smarties anymore, anyway? Except to use them in an object lesson in Sunday School? Smarties are sick...and so are you, lady.

2) At one point, my sister glanced over (and by glanced I mean she was throwing fiery death glares), and this same woman was chugging Pepto Bismol from a bottle--literally, drinking swigs of it. What? Yeah, that's NEVER ok to do in public. And if you need that much Pepto Bismol, you probably shouldn't be in close proximity of other people, like you tend to be in a movie theater!

3) This is my personal favorite: Throughout the remainder of the show (after the dose of Pepto), this woman clicked and tapped her dentures together and by doing so, made the most grotesque noises with her mouth and lips you have ever heard in your entire life. She did this for the REST of the movie. I thought my sister might have a coronary, and subsequently, she left the theater at the end of the night with a kink in her neck after having to watch the film with her head on my shoulder to avoid hearing this woman's "mouth noises."

It's a darn good thing Michelle sat next to this woman because I may have had to be escorted out of the theater and missed my reason for carrying on these last few months (not really, but kind of). Let's just say it could be a long time before we head to the movie theater and pay to sit next to people that bring out the worst possible emotions in me.

The movie itself? Two thumbs up! And dare I say, worth the moronic behavior of Pepto Woman... Until next time ;)

A Few Things

1) Alex Trebek seems grumpy to me. He always makes these subtle remarks to Jeopardy contestants when they get an answer wrong (especially really obvious ones). Sometimes, I just expect him to laugh out loud or say, "No, you stupid idiot!" It's like he finds joy in watching them fail. That's just my observation, and I haven't decided yet if I can really blame him.

2) People should NOT have their dachsunds in their grocery carts at the store. Unless it's a service animal, I don't want it around my potential produce. Sick.

3) Does anyone else get a kick out of the TV show, Glee? It's catchy. It just is.

Whew. I'm glad I got all that off my chest.

Exhibit F

I was at Michael's the other day (you know, the craft store). I was standing in line waiting to make my purchases. This older woman strolls up behind me with a toothpick protruding from the corner of her mouth (say it with me now: "This is going to be good," thought I). What I mean by she "strolled up behind me" is that she basically stood on top of me, close enough to make me uncomfortable, a legitimate breech of my space bubble. I kept expecting her toothpick to poke me in the back of the head. Luckily, it didn't. That would be SO sick.

Anyway, there were about 5 or 6 people ahead of me in line and you guessed it--one checker. I was in no particular hurry, but apparently my toothpick friend was because after the words: "Only one checker?! You've got to be kidding me!" very publicly spilled from her mouth, she taps me and says: "Hey, why don't you go over there?" OK, lady. What? Go where?! Go stand at the next checkstand in a line that doesn't exist because there is NO checker?! What you should have said, strange lady was:"Why don't you just leave because you're in my way and my needs are more important than yours?" You're joking me? Or, no, wait. You're serious. You seriously want me to go away so that you can move one space ahead of me in line. How about NO! How about you leave me alone and don't tap me again just to make a ridiculous request to a complete stranger and while you're at it, take that toothpick out of your mouth! Grrr. Some people. I simply looked at her like she was crazy, and POLITELY said, "No, I'm OK here, thank you" (I bit my tongue in this particular instance), and she didn't bother me again. Strange...very strange. Until next time ;)

Exhibit E

It's Friday; and when it's Friday in the Nichols' household you can count on a few things: 1) The laundry basket is spilling over with dirty clothes 2) The fridge has somehow gobbled up the groceries I just bought and 3) The week's long worth of driving hither and thither has taken its toll on our handy-dandy Honda accord and the gas gauge needle has predictably tipped to the big, giant "E" on the dashboard. Thus, in my endeavors to be a really great wife, I typically spend my Fridays attending to the aforementioned list of "to do's" (i.e. laundry, groceries, and gas).

I was working on the latter portion of my list this morning when an older gentleman pulled up behind me at the gas pump. Initially, I thought he was going to pull around me to the empty space right in front of mine. Certainly, he wouldn't just park his car and wait for my gas pump when there were four other vacant slots at the Fred Meyer gas station. And then, I remembered I have to lower my expectations of people because he was doing just that. He wanted my gas pump! And he made it clear that he wasn't going anywhere! There he sat at pump #10, staring at me. Waiting. Waiting some more...perfectly content. I felt so much pressure to hurry! And then I thought to myself, "No! I was here first, old man! Get your own gas pump!"

Do you ever think that some people were placed on the earth just to try our patience? You know that movie The Truman Show? Like that! It's like the Lord is really just seeing how we will handle ourselves in certain situations, kind of like those stories of beggars or bums who are blown off by ordinary people like you and me, and then they end up being very prestigious and/or important individuals. Do we lose our temper? Roll our eyes? Curse under our breath? Shake our fists...or certain fingers? Guilty. Hmmm--The Rachel Show. A scary thought.

P.S. I thought of some of my favorite pet peeves (an oxymoron, by the way):

1) When almost-empty shampoo or soap bottles fall over in the shower...over and over again. Hate that.

2) When I'm trying to take x-rays on patients, and between "takes" they are flipping through a magazine. I have to "interrupt" them in order to finish my job. I had one lady the other day that wouldn't look up for me to place the film until she was done reading the sentence she was on. Hey, lady! Did you know you're at the DENTIST?! Where we take X-RAYS! The ONLY part of the appointment where we need your complete cooperation and participation?! Sheesh. Until next time ;)

Exhibit D

I'm a lucky girl. Why? Because Jason and I still go on dates a lot. Mainly because we don't have any kids yet, and we get bored staring at each other when we're home. We were sitting around at said "home" when the news announced that it was the opening night of the Spokane County Fair. It was fate. An hour an a half later, we were perusing hot dog stands, cotton candy machines, and bean bag booths (Seriously, though. Who can resist a big ol' elephant ear? Not me. No, sir).

As we were strolling through the blitz of fair food and weirdos, I noticed a couple walking about 10 feet ahead of us. They were about our age, and there was nothing particularly noteworthy about them other than the fact that they were in our direct path of where we were headed. Well, I underestimated these two...or should I say just the female counterpart of this pairing because almost as soon as I noticed their existence she paused and took the liberty of hawking a giant spit ball right on the grass/pathway...as in where people were walking...and eating (Mmmm)...and pushing their strollers. Charming. The couple then went on their merry way--I'm sure to use the bathrooms without washing their hands. Really, lady? Really? What a sicko. Why don't you just go roll around with the little piggies over at the Ag displays. I'm sure they wouldn't mind when you expectorate your lung butter, but as for me (and the rest of civilized society), I find it to be horrendous. Oh, and excuse me while I step over the little "treat" you left me and about 3,000 other Spokanites. That's all. Until next time ;)

Exhibit C

My hubby hates "Wally World." Hates it. Mainly because every time we go there we meet people who would, oh, I don't know, "make the cut" for the World's Most Obnoxious People. At all costs, when I am with him, we avoid the Super Store. The other day, for some strange reason, the stars had aligned just right and I found myself standing in line at, you guessed it--Wal-Mart. As I was unloading my "goods" on to the conveyor belt, I noticed someone whistling behind me. OK, let's get something clear: this was not just your typical cute, old man humming a tune. This was a full-blown, legitimate whistle by someone who obviously wanted to be acknowledged for his whistling "skills." I am not kidding. It was loud! So loud, that when Jason called me while I was standing it line, he could hear the noise and even asked, "What is that?" Being naturally curious (and let's face it, annoyed), I non-chalantly stole a glance at the culprit who by this time was whistling the full score to Beethoven's Fur Elise. Again, I am not kidding.

The "whistler" was even better than I imagined. Let me paint you a picture: Black denim jeans, white tennis shoes, white, long-sleeved, collared shirt, black leather vest, black leather gloves and sunglasses (not on his forehead...he was wearing them). Mind you, it was at least 95 degrees outside. He then proceeded to ask me, "'Scuse me, miss? Are those scrubs you're wearing?" to which I replied, "Why, yes they are" (I fought my urge to be a smart mouth and claim that they were my pajamas I had forgotten to change out of). We then had a very strange conversation about how his wife is a nurse and she collects fairies??? I packed up my cart, said goodbye to said Black Leather Whistle Man, and booked it to my car. As I was driving away, who should I pass smoking his cigarette with gloved hands? My friend, the Whistler. At least we know his hands were warm...in August. Strange. Very strange. Hmmm...Until next time ;)