not just another day at the grocery store

So I've stated it many times - I hate the grocery store.

Case and point one:

Friday night hubby wanted to stop at Giant Eagle to get a few things for his lunch (Saturday fishing excursion). So we stop after dinner and quickly grab some lunch-type things. Hit the check out line, and behold...the New Moon People Magazine Special Edition. So, of course, I grab it (eye-rolling and groaning from husband....seriously can't believe he hasn't left me yet). Get in line to pay, and have Chatty Cathy as our checkout girl. She's maybe 17 years old, tops. Now, I got no problem with friendly people.

But.

She picks up my magazine to scan it, then proceeds to flip through it, stopping at certain pictures and showing them to my husband, whilst making racy comments.

I'm thinking, 'get your grubby fingers off my magazine!'. And 'finish checking me out, ain't got all day!'

Then she is literally READING MY MAGAZINE. Page by page, flipping through it, taking her time, like we are actually friends. As I'm trying to pay and get the F outta there. So I stick my hand out and make it obvious I'm ready to leave, give me my f'in magazine you crazy weirdo, and she actually says to me, 'You're really leaving?'

Me: 'Um, yes?' (WHAT?!?!?)

She finally hands me the magazine. We practically run out of the store. My husband asks me what the hell just happened. I still don't know. Freak.

Case and point two:

So then Saturday I have to go back to Giant Eagle to get the rest of our groceries. Now you know how you go to the same grocery store all the time, so you have certain checkout attendants pegged. You avoid the slow ones or the rude ones.

At least I do.

And there is this one lady who is slower then my 90-yr-old grandpa. She has no sense of urgency (especially when the line is a mile long). Now, I worked in retail for a few years, and I always strive to be quick and efficient. I can understand she is maybe not of the age to be as quick, but geezus lady...kick it up a notch.

So I on purpose get into a line where this lady is NOT.

I unload my groceries onto the conveyor belt.

March up to the checkout stand, all happy because things are moving along.

And the lady standing at the register says, 'so and so is going to switch with me, it will just take a second.' I look over....

NOOOOOOOOOO.

Of course it's slow-ass lady. Cause the grocery gods hate me. There she is, taking her grand old time.

So it took another 10 minutes just to get out of there after she took forever to ring me up.

Giant Eagle - I hate you.

a little reminiscing

i was reminiscing today over my childhood. i had a really good childhood. my parents did their best to give me everything they could, i had friends, i got good grades, teachers loved me.

popular kids didn't love me. the boys liked to make fun of me.

until junior high when i walked in with boobs. and some confidence. and now i think back to all the boys i 'dated' in junior high and, damn. i got around. and by getting around i mean passing ridiculous love notes and slow dancing at the Friday noon dances.

i was a pro at the macarena.

high school came and i was the girl who had more senior friends then friends my age. guess i was always more mature for my age. but no partying...that just wasn't me. or it wasn't me because i was scared shitless of what my parents would do to me if they ever found out. i wanna instill that same fear into my child. it sure worked on me.

i didn't have a sip of liquor until i was 15 and went to a random sleepover (people i wasn't even really friends with). we somehow managed to sneak a crap ton of Fuzzy Navels (the name alone wigs me out). mix a bunch of that with some greasy Taco Bell on a virgin stomach and you get Brandie awake at 3 AM puking her ever-living guts out.

i called my mom.

i'll never forget how cool she was about it. she picked my stupid hungover ass up. i spent the entire day sleeping it off. and she said, 'let's not tell your father about this. i think you learned your lesson.'

and i certainly did. i didn't have another sip of alcohol until my 21st birthday. every time i even heard the word alcohol i vomited in my mouth a little.

i told my dad eventually. like a year ago. i figured it was safe. he can't be mad at me after that many years.

and i got over my alcohol phobia. with lots of experience. and after many nights with the porcelain god.

ahhh....the memories.

couldn't resist

okay...i found this blog template and it just called my name. a little tribute since the movie is so close now...

don't hate me for being totally ridiculous.