This is going up one day later than I'd planned for it to be published, but I'm too lazy to go correct the time errors like "today" or "yesterday." Deal with it, huh? ;)
There's so many loose little stories cranking through my head these days that it was time to dust off the Tidbits album and jot an entry. Without further adieu, enjoy my fodder...
Something happened today that would be difficult to relate to you if we were sitting across from one another (unless it was 2am and the setting was a local bar after a whole lot of alcoholic lube)! I now know with certainty that I do indeed have a guardian angel! You know how we all laugh at people who traipse through a restaurant with a piece of toilet paper trailing on their foot? I had the opportunity to compound that tenfold today, but as I said, my guardian angel had my back.
I ran out to do some last minute grocery shopping for the salad fest I'm bringing to the table tomorrow. Upon my arrival back at my house, I dropped the bags of produce on my counter. I looked down at the floor and saw the kitty bowls still sitting on the floor where I'd left them. I thought, "I need to pick those up." Then I went to bathroom since the coffee I'd overindulged in earlier was threatening to blow up my bladder.
Now this is where it gets interesting. Back in the kitchen, I sorted the canned cat food I bought and put it away. I placed the various vegetables I'd purchased in the crisper. When I turned around and looked at the pet bowls still on the floor, I saw the addition of a pair of pink panties. How did those get to be laying among the leftovers from kitty brunch? After a brief denial phase, I thought hard about the jeans I was wearing. Yes, I wore those underwear the day I last wore the jeans that were on now. Oh! My! God!
Of course I wondered if they had been hanging out of the back of the jeans while I was out. That wouldn't matter since my coat never came off. Were they perhaps hanging out of a leg of the jeans? I can see it now...other shoppers whispering to one another to look at the girl with the Fuschia pink bikinis hanging out from the cuff of her pant leg, dangling on her black shoes. Oh my. While I was slightly worried about anyone having actually seen the sloppy decor of my hurried dressing, I was more relieved that they hadn't actually fallen out of wherever they came from while I was actually under the fluorescent lights of the grocery.
Onward and upward. Thank Gawd for small favors. :p
I'd like to take a moment to say thank you to a person who gave me a great big hug of love today. When someone thanks you for infusing them with the Christmas spirit by your example and your love, that's cool. I don't feel especially inspiring, but if my acceptance and sharing my Christmas traditions have made you happy, then I am joyous. You are lovely, CS and I love you forever. Merry! Merry!
Speaking of traditions.... molasses cookies! Holy cow, I've had more requests and kudos for my molasses cookies this year than ever! I started making them about 4 years ago, and they are catching on as my signature Christmas cookie. If you love molasses cookies, jot this recipe down and make a double batch! I take no credit for the greatness of the cookies, as they are hard as hell to screw up, but it's a recipe worth sharing. The recipe comes from a memorial cookbook for a young woman who was killed in a car accident. I knew her from my hometown. My mother gave me the cookbook with a wonderful inscription that reminds me of "how very much you are loved."
The secret for making these extra yummy is to add a little extra of the spices to really jazz 'em up!!
Spicy Molasses Cookies
1 1/2 c melted shortening
2 c sugar
2 eggs
1/2 c molasses (Brier Rabbit is better than Grandma's)!!
4 c sifted flour
4 tsp baking soda
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cloves
1 tsp ground ginger
sugar
Combine melted shortening with 2 cups of sugar. Beat until blended. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Gradually stir in molasses. Stir together remaining dry ingredients, and add to the molasses mixture. Mix well. Chill dough in the refrigerator 8 hours or overnight. Shape dough into balls the size of a walnut. Roll each in sugar. Place on ungreased cookie sheet 2 inches apart. Bake in a 375 degree oven for 8-10 minutes, or until done. Let cool slightly on baking sheets. Remove from baking sheets and cool on wire racks. Makes about 8 dozen.
One word: YUMMY!! :) Go make 'em! They are good anytime of the year, but I never seem to actually make them any other time than Christmas.
The last week at work was party-laden, for sure! Whew. We had a construction company who always books their party with us. They run an open bar for their employees and there is a block of rooms rented to keep those who shouldn't drive, safely tucked away for the night. They eat well too. But this year, the guy came in with a chip on his shoulder which is totally ridiculous, given that he has a habit of being a slow payer. In fact, when August rolled around and they hadn't paid for last year's party, a lawsuit was threatened to make them pay up. And the guy has the nerve to march in and get haughty about anything this year? Oh boy. It started with his dissatisfaction with his reservation time. It's funny that several of our managers heard the owner give the man an 8:30 reservation since it was our busiest party night of the Christmas season, but the man threw a fit at the hostess station and insisted that the reservation was for 7:30. Ummmm, no!
We rushed a very friendly, great (and I mean GREAT!) tipping group out of what we call 'the wing' to accomodate the asshole and his employees, and enlisted every free hand to clear and reset the tables to expedite the seating time. They were bitchy from the moment they sat down. Lori and I did what we could to appease the beast, but it was a futile battle since they had already decided that they would be as antagonistic as possible for the duration of their festivities. Yeah, there's the Christmas spirit I was looking to find. My cohort in service didn't grasp the urgency of getting the dinner order and followed protocol of gleaning a drink order first. As a result, I took 16 of the 22 people. I just wanted to feed them and get them out. Ugh.
They "one-drinked" us to death, sending us back to the bar as soon as we'd returned to deliver the previous beverage. They complained that it was too hot. Then they complained that it was too cold. They gave us dirty looks because we weren't fast enough, or ass-kissing enough, or disheveled enough by their attempts to piss us off. They were the quintessential asshole diners that every server wants to kick in the ass. And I kept wondering what kind of person has the balls to treat an entire restaurant's staff like they are worthless---when you don't even pay your bill!! The really funny part is that my restaurant still lets him bill out the night's charges. Is that considered enabling?
While I only walked out the door with $30.00 in my pocket that night, I was ecstatic by the huge tip that nice party added on to the mail out bill. Then I was relieved that management had the class to add a tip to the bill that went out to the obnoxious construction crew, and pay it out before they got paid. That's alright, you know?
Life is good. It's holiday time, which means that I can sit around and be lazy on not feel guilty. May we all kick back and enjoy some family time! Merry Christmas to all!
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Ho! Ho! Ho!
This week has been a polar opposite to last week's rush of getting things done before my very own Santa Claus came to town. We are at the end of the trip now, with a flight out of Chicago awaiting him tomorrow. My love/hate relationship with airports veers to the loathing side as we approach tomorrow's impending departure. I like the arrivals oh so much more! But having the preparation rush over, and the relaxing week in, makes me reflective about the last few weeks, before I push to the end of the Christmas celebrations.
Work has been strange; some nights crazily crowded but tip-deprived, others steady and tip-wealthy. Still others have been downright slow and tortuous, not only to the psyche, but the wallet too. It seems for awhile there, there was always another envelope to contribute to something for someone. There was an envelope for a gift for the owners, another for our dining room manager, yet another for our compadre who just had major surgery. When you find another cause awaiting donation everytime you walk through the door, you begin to hope the holidays will simply end. But we scored big for our immediate supervisor who manages our schedule and dining operations! We managed to get her the one thing she truly wanted, but wouldn't splurge for on her own. One of our servers works part-time at Land's End, so attaining the coat Julie wanted was a piece of cake. It's also very cool that we didn't just get her something ho-hum because it's tradition to get the management a gift this time of year! She was blown away and we were tickled to see her so pleased. We'll see how she does with her responsibility for choosing something equally as wonderful for our owners. ;)
We had a cookie exchange last week, too. Not so many showed up, but we had fun! I wasn't sure I'd go since I had the airport pick-up the day before, but I managed to be up, feeling like I wanted to do lunch with the gals and contribute some molasses cookies to the mix. I got to tell my horror story from the travel day of my guy too. It truly was one of those Murphy tales. Santa's day began with his oversleeping, then traffic delaying the departure from home. A layover flight was canceled because there weren't enough passengers. The upshot was a 1am pick-up instead of a 4pm pick-up. The crowning jewel on the day was the surprise (which wasn't such a surprise) of the lost luggage that required a stop at 1:30am in the Lost Luggage Office. It was delivered via FedEx a day and a half later. But even with the arrival home at 6am, I made the noon cookie exchange and lunch!
When I told the girls that I was waking up my visitor when I got home so we could go get a tree, I got a great gift. One of my co-workers is in the Christmas tree business. She's also in the good deed business. When she heard I didn't have a tree yet, she almost leaped out of her chair. "You don't have a tree yet?!? You HAVE to come over and take one from me!" Turns out, she had a few extra that she'd been trying to give away. I followed her home and we loaded one in my sleigh. It's a perfectly sheared Fraser since her husband's company is our largest Christmas tree exporter. I wouldn't be surprised if some of you readers have trees that come from the same place mine did. It really seems lately, that it's not what you know, but who you know that brings great rewards. Heck, I'll take that.
And speaking of who you know... a few days ago Tom Bodett left a comment on my last blog. It's silly, but that comment made me grin like a little kid. Tom Bodett, the Motel 6 guy who leaves the light on...that's him! He left me a comment, read some of my blog! That's a gift in itself. I guess the reason it's cool is because some of my online friends and I have had a running joke about meeting at the Motel 6. We love Tom Bodett because he'll "leave a light on..." and we like to pretend we know him personally. And, in real life, we used to stay at a little Motel 6 when I visited my boyfriend. (We quit staying there after a guy was caught in the room next door to the one we used to stay in with a girl's body in his suitcase. Apparently, he had been taking her from motel to motel in that bag. Ewww. No offense to Motel 6 or Tom Bodett though. After all, that was the place where he was finally apprehended, which might be bad for business, but it kind of makes them heroes, doesn't it?)! And anyway, Tom Bodett didn't make that happen by leaving the light on. He's got a great blog that is worth checking out, so go read it! http://www.bodett.com/blog/index.htm
Thank you for stopping by, Tom Bodett. :)
So Christmas is zooming up on us!! Ready or not, here it comes! I'm ready. I'm calm. What I'm really looking forward to is the new year. This has been a tough year, truth be told. I feel a little squirmy to get away from it. I know it's just one day blending into the next, but I need to feel like I am moving forward to a new place. I wrote about it in my Christmas letter, mentioned it to friends and family to try to hold myself accountable. "Writing more regularly is my beginning point. In the next few months while it’s cold outside, I hope to start churning out some really marketable stuff. Time will tell, but I’ve made a promise to myself to get beyond the ‘getting by’ status of my life and reach higher. I just need more."
I just need more.
I bet in the next weeks my blog becomes pensive. Writing is the sorting belt for all that passes through one's mind. How do we find that place where we are happy with who we are and what we do? I'm not sure, but I will journey into 2007 in search of the satisfaction that I'm reaching my full potential.
Meantime, I'm gonna enjoy the rest of this Christmas season. In fact, I celebrate December 22nd like a Sun Goddess. We will offically be past the shortest day of the year. Now that makes my heart happy. :) God bless your holiday and your new year.
Work has been strange; some nights crazily crowded but tip-deprived, others steady and tip-wealthy. Still others have been downright slow and tortuous, not only to the psyche, but the wallet too. It seems for awhile there, there was always another envelope to contribute to something for someone. There was an envelope for a gift for the owners, another for our dining room manager, yet another for our compadre who just had major surgery. When you find another cause awaiting donation everytime you walk through the door, you begin to hope the holidays will simply end. But we scored big for our immediate supervisor who manages our schedule and dining operations! We managed to get her the one thing she truly wanted, but wouldn't splurge for on her own. One of our servers works part-time at Land's End, so attaining the coat Julie wanted was a piece of cake. It's also very cool that we didn't just get her something ho-hum because it's tradition to get the management a gift this time of year! She was blown away and we were tickled to see her so pleased. We'll see how she does with her responsibility for choosing something equally as wonderful for our owners. ;)
We had a cookie exchange last week, too. Not so many showed up, but we had fun! I wasn't sure I'd go since I had the airport pick-up the day before, but I managed to be up, feeling like I wanted to do lunch with the gals and contribute some molasses cookies to the mix. I got to tell my horror story from the travel day of my guy too. It truly was one of those Murphy tales. Santa's day began with his oversleeping, then traffic delaying the departure from home. A layover flight was canceled because there weren't enough passengers. The upshot was a 1am pick-up instead of a 4pm pick-up. The crowning jewel on the day was the surprise (which wasn't such a surprise) of the lost luggage that required a stop at 1:30am in the Lost Luggage Office. It was delivered via FedEx a day and a half later. But even with the arrival home at 6am, I made the noon cookie exchange and lunch!
When I told the girls that I was waking up my visitor when I got home so we could go get a tree, I got a great gift. One of my co-workers is in the Christmas tree business. She's also in the good deed business. When she heard I didn't have a tree yet, she almost leaped out of her chair. "You don't have a tree yet?!? You HAVE to come over and take one from me!" Turns out, she had a few extra that she'd been trying to give away. I followed her home and we loaded one in my sleigh. It's a perfectly sheared Fraser since her husband's company is our largest Christmas tree exporter. I wouldn't be surprised if some of you readers have trees that come from the same place mine did. It really seems lately, that it's not what you know, but who you know that brings great rewards. Heck, I'll take that.
And speaking of who you know... a few days ago Tom Bodett left a comment on my last blog. It's silly, but that comment made me grin like a little kid. Tom Bodett, the Motel 6 guy who leaves the light on...that's him! He left me a comment, read some of my blog! That's a gift in itself. I guess the reason it's cool is because some of my online friends and I have had a running joke about meeting at the Motel 6. We love Tom Bodett because he'll "leave a light on..." and we like to pretend we know him personally. And, in real life, we used to stay at a little Motel 6 when I visited my boyfriend. (We quit staying there after a guy was caught in the room next door to the one we used to stay in with a girl's body in his suitcase. Apparently, he had been taking her from motel to motel in that bag. Ewww. No offense to Motel 6 or Tom Bodett though. After all, that was the place where he was finally apprehended, which might be bad for business, but it kind of makes them heroes, doesn't it?)! And anyway, Tom Bodett didn't make that happen by leaving the light on. He's got a great blog that is worth checking out, so go read it! http://www.bodett.com/blog/index.htm
Thank you for stopping by, Tom Bodett. :)
So Christmas is zooming up on us!! Ready or not, here it comes! I'm ready. I'm calm. What I'm really looking forward to is the new year. This has been a tough year, truth be told. I feel a little squirmy to get away from it. I know it's just one day blending into the next, but I need to feel like I am moving forward to a new place. I wrote about it in my Christmas letter, mentioned it to friends and family to try to hold myself accountable. "Writing more regularly is my beginning point. In the next few months while it’s cold outside, I hope to start churning out some really marketable stuff. Time will tell, but I’ve made a promise to myself to get beyond the ‘getting by’ status of my life and reach higher. I just need more."
I just need more.
I bet in the next weeks my blog becomes pensive. Writing is the sorting belt for all that passes through one's mind. How do we find that place where we are happy with who we are and what we do? I'm not sure, but I will journey into 2007 in search of the satisfaction that I'm reaching my full potential.
Meantime, I'm gonna enjoy the rest of this Christmas season. In fact, I celebrate December 22nd like a Sun Goddess. We will offically be past the shortest day of the year. Now that makes my heart happy. :) God bless your holiday and your new year.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Tis The Season
December has arrived, and with it comes all those sneaky little holiday missions. Work heats up with company Christmas parties, my family negotiates schedules to choose the day we will share a holiday meal together, and the mercury on the thermometer drops so the white stuff can fly. Yes, it's a busy time.
It seems that the past weekend many people chose a tree. I saw a big, beautiful, full tree on a snowmobile trailer that spilled over the edges of it with its gloriousness. I would love to see that tree when it arrives home and gets decorated. That man is going to get a prize gift from his wife this year when she sees him unload that! I'm waiting to do my tree. My best friend will arrive and stay the week before Christmas since there's a free flight to use by December 20th. It's my not-so-secret joy to have a man who doesn't get flustered by my insistence that we move it, spin it, cut one more branch, tilt it, rearrange it one more time. I knew when I met him that putting up a Christmas tree with him would be wonderful. A man who pulls out his laptop to check his Streets and Trips only minutes into being lost, and waits patiently in traffic must be disguised as a saint of Christmas trees. And he is. I will wait for him to get here so we can weave another memory into our friendship.
There's the killer molasses cookies to make, the to-die-for almond cookies to bake. I want to decorate the house, all but the tree. I power shopped Monday and am already over budget with a few gifts left to garner. What can I say? It's the Santa in me. I want my chores to be done early, though I have to admit that this to-do list I have is one I relish. I don't like that Christmas is so commercial, but I do love giving gifts. I also love making good food and decorating the house with my cherished Christmas things.
The restaurant where I work does a fair amount of holiday entertaining, too. It's good and it's bad. Since regular diners see the parking lot so full, they are inclined to think it will be a 2-hour wait and choose another restaurant, so that's not good. We run our butts off some nights for parties who get to choose their own tip amount, and some choose poorly. Saturday night was like that. We had a 40 sectioned into a "U" around the fireplace. The host wanted his guests to have anything they wanted, open bar, appetizers, dessert, everything. Other waitresses assured us this guy was a great tipper! When he paid the bill (and raved about everything being perfect), he left roughly a 12% tip. When a party like this takes up most of three waitresses section, leaving them each with one or two tables besides the party, it can cramp your style to get just $30.00 for the first few hours of your work shift. Ugh. I think if Lee hadn't gotten us all so excited by saying he was such a generous tipper, we wouldn't have been quite as disappointed.
I had a local couple stop in for dinner. They got good service and tipped more than I think they usually would, to my delight. But as sometimes happens, the best part of their visit wasn't the tip, it was the comment my hostess came back to give me after they'd left. "They said you were the best waitress they've ever had, anywhere! What did you do for them?" I laughed and told her I couldn't tell her. In reality, I think they said that because they were impressed that I kept their water glasses filled when they were slugging down water. I simply did what good servers do: bring the things the customer needs when he needs it, and take away what the customer doesn't need when he's done with it. Good waiting is really that simple. Well, kind of. You still need to anticipate needs. I like to arrive with a doggie bag when I know they are done, but want to take the rest home. I wrap food for people, rather than just throwing doggie bags on the table. Diners love to be pampered, and whenever possible, I spoil them with that one insignificant detail of placing their food in a take out container. They love it. Apparently, the Timm's loved it too. I'll carry that compliment a long time.
I'm finishing up some major projects at home as we head into the holiday season too. I've been refinishing the kitchen cupboards, a long and arduous job. I'd been avoiding the area by the sink since it has approximately one zillion corners tucked into the six half-shelves and window frame there. It is with great pride, joy, and relief that I can report that I have finally completed this beast! You see, I needed to have it done before I could do my holiday decorating. I won't put out my favorite Christmas heirlooms amidst the flurry of dust this chore creates. This gives me the green (and red) lights to forge ahead on decorating my house! I love my Christmas stuff and can hardly wait to see it all again. The Christmas music is already in the cd player. Let the games begin!
Yep, it's a busy season! My blogging has become rusty, and my writing seems a bit banal lately. I'm plodding through this not-so-creative time by being a workhorse in the home, and planning some very nice surprises for those dearest to me. Perhaps the few who read here will understand this. Comes a time when sitting at a computer doesn't cut it, you just need to get hands-on in your life and go do! I believe the physical activity is my battle against the winter blah's I've been fighting so hard. Christmas is a time for celebration. We celebrate family and the birth of Jesus. We celebrate friends. We celebrate our traditions that help us remember who we are and where we came from. We celebrate with cookies, and gifts, and music. I hope the season is full of whatever celebrations touch your hearts. What I hope, is that you slow down enough to enjoy the parts that make the whole and remember the real reason we do all this silly stuff.
Merry Christmas!
It seems that the past weekend many people chose a tree. I saw a big, beautiful, full tree on a snowmobile trailer that spilled over the edges of it with its gloriousness. I would love to see that tree when it arrives home and gets decorated. That man is going to get a prize gift from his wife this year when she sees him unload that! I'm waiting to do my tree. My best friend will arrive and stay the week before Christmas since there's a free flight to use by December 20th. It's my not-so-secret joy to have a man who doesn't get flustered by my insistence that we move it, spin it, cut one more branch, tilt it, rearrange it one more time. I knew when I met him that putting up a Christmas tree with him would be wonderful. A man who pulls out his laptop to check his Streets and Trips only minutes into being lost, and waits patiently in traffic must be disguised as a saint of Christmas trees. And he is. I will wait for him to get here so we can weave another memory into our friendship.
There's the killer molasses cookies to make, the to-die-for almond cookies to bake. I want to decorate the house, all but the tree. I power shopped Monday and am already over budget with a few gifts left to garner. What can I say? It's the Santa in me. I want my chores to be done early, though I have to admit that this to-do list I have is one I relish. I don't like that Christmas is so commercial, but I do love giving gifts. I also love making good food and decorating the house with my cherished Christmas things.
The restaurant where I work does a fair amount of holiday entertaining, too. It's good and it's bad. Since regular diners see the parking lot so full, they are inclined to think it will be a 2-hour wait and choose another restaurant, so that's not good. We run our butts off some nights for parties who get to choose their own tip amount, and some choose poorly. Saturday night was like that. We had a 40 sectioned into a "U" around the fireplace. The host wanted his guests to have anything they wanted, open bar, appetizers, dessert, everything. Other waitresses assured us this guy was a great tipper! When he paid the bill (and raved about everything being perfect), he left roughly a 12% tip. When a party like this takes up most of three waitresses section, leaving them each with one or two tables besides the party, it can cramp your style to get just $30.00 for the first few hours of your work shift. Ugh. I think if Lee hadn't gotten us all so excited by saying he was such a generous tipper, we wouldn't have been quite as disappointed.
I had a local couple stop in for dinner. They got good service and tipped more than I think they usually would, to my delight. But as sometimes happens, the best part of their visit wasn't the tip, it was the comment my hostess came back to give me after they'd left. "They said you were the best waitress they've ever had, anywhere! What did you do for them?" I laughed and told her I couldn't tell her. In reality, I think they said that because they were impressed that I kept their water glasses filled when they were slugging down water. I simply did what good servers do: bring the things the customer needs when he needs it, and take away what the customer doesn't need when he's done with it. Good waiting is really that simple. Well, kind of. You still need to anticipate needs. I like to arrive with a doggie bag when I know they are done, but want to take the rest home. I wrap food for people, rather than just throwing doggie bags on the table. Diners love to be pampered, and whenever possible, I spoil them with that one insignificant detail of placing their food in a take out container. They love it. Apparently, the Timm's loved it too. I'll carry that compliment a long time.
I'm finishing up some major projects at home as we head into the holiday season too. I've been refinishing the kitchen cupboards, a long and arduous job. I'd been avoiding the area by the sink since it has approximately one zillion corners tucked into the six half-shelves and window frame there. It is with great pride, joy, and relief that I can report that I have finally completed this beast! You see, I needed to have it done before I could do my holiday decorating. I won't put out my favorite Christmas heirlooms amidst the flurry of dust this chore creates. This gives me the green (and red) lights to forge ahead on decorating my house! I love my Christmas stuff and can hardly wait to see it all again. The Christmas music is already in the cd player. Let the games begin!
Yep, it's a busy season! My blogging has become rusty, and my writing seems a bit banal lately. I'm plodding through this not-so-creative time by being a workhorse in the home, and planning some very nice surprises for those dearest to me. Perhaps the few who read here will understand this. Comes a time when sitting at a computer doesn't cut it, you just need to get hands-on in your life and go do! I believe the physical activity is my battle against the winter blah's I've been fighting so hard. Christmas is a time for celebration. We celebrate family and the birth of Jesus. We celebrate friends. We celebrate our traditions that help us remember who we are and where we came from. We celebrate with cookies, and gifts, and music. I hope the season is full of whatever celebrations touch your hearts. What I hope, is that you slow down enough to enjoy the parts that make the whole and remember the real reason we do all this silly stuff.
Merry Christmas!
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
The Ant Story
I've been writing blogs and dismissing them before I finish. It's pathetic that I haven't been able to string enough coherent thoughts together to get a decent blog published lately. While talking to a friend of mine a few days ago, the ant story came up. She was chuckling about her boyfriend teasing her that she doesn't kill bugs, and I laughed with her. For the most part, I'm like that too. The exceptions are spiders, centipedes that get into my living space, and now--ants. Here's why. (This is for you, T)!
Last summer must have produced ideal conditions for the big black ants around here. The soil is sandy around here and I see a fair amount of anthills around the house. Ants don't bother me. Usually. I mean, they are the Superman of the insect world. Have you ever seen them dragging things bigger than themselves across the floor? They even carry the dead back to the nest! Ants have amazing little colonies that are quite complex, if you ever care to read more about them. In short, they are wonderfully coherent survivors.
But I digress. Ants are also a nuisance when they arrive in droves into your house, which is what happened to me this past summer. It was like my hardwood floors were their superhighways. I put up with it for awhile. Then their numbers increased and I knew it was time to get the Terro. I carefully set up little feeding stations near the shoulders of their highways and waited for them to disappear. But they didn't disappear; they only diminished in numbers. That was actually okay with me, since a few weary travelers didn't bother me so much. That is until the night one crossed the line.
I'd gotten home from work late one hot summer night. I fired up the computer to read at some sites I enjoy and check out who was on Yahoo Messenger. I had just gotten my browsers, email, and Yahoo open when I felt an irritation on my hip/butt/leg area. (Think of how your mom looked when she had her hands on her hips, looking at you disappointingly when you'd done something wrong. Where her index finger was positioned is where this 'something' was). I brushed at my billowy shorts pajamas, thinking it was just a nerve or skin irritation. I felt something on me then. I was afraid it might be a spider so I reached under and tried to brush it off without looking. Now, as I was doing this, the ant began biting me.
I jumped up and brushed harder at the ant. It would not brush off of me! And its bite continued to get more ferocious with each swat downward. By this time, I was getting rather alarmed at the pain it was inflicting and its steadfast refusal to get off of me. In a panic, I ripped the loose pajama shorts off, and really got a clean shot at whisking this thing off of me. Nothing. By this time, I was shouting obscenities at the the ant who had attached itself to my skin. "Get the fuck off of me!" "What the hell?" "OUCH!" "You son-of-a-bitch!" All the while, the little bastard's grip on me tightened. I finally realized that I was going to have to pluck this ant out of my skin like you would a tick. I calmed myself and grabbed it with my thumb and forefinger, giving it an almighty yank to release the pain it was inflicting upon me.
When I got the assailant out of my skin, I threw it as hard as I could across the room! I'm not kidding, I heard it hit the wall. When I wound up to launch him, I screamed again, "Get the fuck off of me!" That tough insect was still squirming when I went to look at him. I vengefully whacked him about ten times with a shoe. Having released its tiny teeth from my flesh, my senses began to come back. I realized I was standing in the middle of my spare bedroom in the middle of the night with the windows and shades thrown open, naked from the waist down! Whoops! I quickly put the shorts back on and listened for any hysterical laughter that might be coming from the night. Nothing. I did wonder if my neighbor, who is my landlady and friend, was out with her dog. It was pretty late though, and I thought the odds of her being out there were pretty slim. I figured my little tirade was probably going to go into the books as one only me and the ant would know about.
I was wrong.
I was telling my neighbor the story of my ant escapade the next day when she got a funny look on her face. "Ohhhhhhhh," she said. She explained that she had been out back with Taffy when she heard these God-awful screams coming from the bedroom. She further went on to say that she got very quiet and told the dog she thought they better go in their own house then. Apparently they snuck back into their abode while my trauma was playing out. She said she'd heard the "Get the fuck off of me!" and wasn't sure if I had a guy over or what. Wait. She heard me yelling in distress, wasn't sure if there was a man in the house, and chose to slink off to her own safety zone? Very not cool.
So I know now that I should not call on the neighbor if the going gets tough. I'm thankful that it was only an assault by a .000002 ounce ant, and not a 225 lb man I was fighting off that night. That little bugger did leave a red welt though. If I had called the cops, I would have had plenty of evidence to prove what had occurred at the scene of the crime... A dent in the wall where I had successfully deterred my assailant, skin particles in the deceased's mouth, the mark it left on me....
Pity the ant that decides to use my house for his foibles this Spring. In retrospect, I think it may have been worth the pain and suffering I endured for the laughfest the neighbor and I had when we pieced the whole story together. Still, I'm stocking up on ant poison. It's only funny once.
Last summer must have produced ideal conditions for the big black ants around here. The soil is sandy around here and I see a fair amount of anthills around the house. Ants don't bother me. Usually. I mean, they are the Superman of the insect world. Have you ever seen them dragging things bigger than themselves across the floor? They even carry the dead back to the nest! Ants have amazing little colonies that are quite complex, if you ever care to read more about them. In short, they are wonderfully coherent survivors.
But I digress. Ants are also a nuisance when they arrive in droves into your house, which is what happened to me this past summer. It was like my hardwood floors were their superhighways. I put up with it for awhile. Then their numbers increased and I knew it was time to get the Terro. I carefully set up little feeding stations near the shoulders of their highways and waited for them to disappear. But they didn't disappear; they only diminished in numbers. That was actually okay with me, since a few weary travelers didn't bother me so much. That is until the night one crossed the line.
I'd gotten home from work late one hot summer night. I fired up the computer to read at some sites I enjoy and check out who was on Yahoo Messenger. I had just gotten my browsers, email, and Yahoo open when I felt an irritation on my hip/butt/leg area. (Think of how your mom looked when she had her hands on her hips, looking at you disappointingly when you'd done something wrong. Where her index finger was positioned is where this 'something' was). I brushed at my billowy shorts pajamas, thinking it was just a nerve or skin irritation. I felt something on me then. I was afraid it might be a spider so I reached under and tried to brush it off without looking. Now, as I was doing this, the ant began biting me.
I jumped up and brushed harder at the ant. It would not brush off of me! And its bite continued to get more ferocious with each swat downward. By this time, I was getting rather alarmed at the pain it was inflicting and its steadfast refusal to get off of me. In a panic, I ripped the loose pajama shorts off, and really got a clean shot at whisking this thing off of me. Nothing. By this time, I was shouting obscenities at the the ant who had attached itself to my skin. "Get the fuck off of me!" "What the hell?" "OUCH!" "You son-of-a-bitch!" All the while, the little bastard's grip on me tightened. I finally realized that I was going to have to pluck this ant out of my skin like you would a tick. I calmed myself and grabbed it with my thumb and forefinger, giving it an almighty yank to release the pain it was inflicting upon me.
When I got the assailant out of my skin, I threw it as hard as I could across the room! I'm not kidding, I heard it hit the wall. When I wound up to launch him, I screamed again, "Get the fuck off of me!" That tough insect was still squirming when I went to look at him. I vengefully whacked him about ten times with a shoe. Having released its tiny teeth from my flesh, my senses began to come back. I realized I was standing in the middle of my spare bedroom in the middle of the night with the windows and shades thrown open, naked from the waist down! Whoops! I quickly put the shorts back on and listened for any hysterical laughter that might be coming from the night. Nothing. I did wonder if my neighbor, who is my landlady and friend, was out with her dog. It was pretty late though, and I thought the odds of her being out there were pretty slim. I figured my little tirade was probably going to go into the books as one only me and the ant would know about.
I was wrong.
I was telling my neighbor the story of my ant escapade the next day when she got a funny look on her face. "Ohhhhhhhh," she said. She explained that she had been out back with Taffy when she heard these God-awful screams coming from the bedroom. She further went on to say that she got very quiet and told the dog she thought they better go in their own house then. Apparently they snuck back into their abode while my trauma was playing out. She said she'd heard the "Get the fuck off of me!" and wasn't sure if I had a guy over or what. Wait. She heard me yelling in distress, wasn't sure if there was a man in the house, and chose to slink off to her own safety zone? Very not cool.
So I know now that I should not call on the neighbor if the going gets tough. I'm thankful that it was only an assault by a .000002 ounce ant, and not a 225 lb man I was fighting off that night. That little bugger did leave a red welt though. If I had called the cops, I would have had plenty of evidence to prove what had occurred at the scene of the crime... A dent in the wall where I had successfully deterred my assailant, skin particles in the deceased's mouth, the mark it left on me....
Pity the ant that decides to use my house for his foibles this Spring. In retrospect, I think it may have been worth the pain and suffering I endured for the laughfest the neighbor and I had when we pieced the whole story together. Still, I'm stocking up on ant poison. It's only funny once.
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