Blargle. So Pete is feeling under the weather with a mild-ish version of what I had two weeks ago. I, on the other hand, am still feeling a bit dodgy and am easily tired, which led to Plei telling me I should go see my doctor and get checked out for walking pneumonia. (Not unreasonable, as someone in our vanpool apparently had it.) I AM TIRED OF FEELING SICKLY, DAMMIT. And if I AM going to still feel sickly, I want someone to bring me tea and soup and cupcakes. And laudanum.

The banning of laudanum was a sign of the decline of Western culture and deprived us of the chance to write our own Kubla Khans.

Please forgive the elevator people. There are days I can't face the screaming knee pain from arthritis and the bone spurs on my knee caps and an elevator is a blessed respite.

Midwesterners are the nicest people in the world. Southerners tend to say "y'all come," but never say when. Midwesterners show up at your house with a coffee cake and an invitation for bridge. I think New Yorkers get a bad rap. I've always found them willing to go out of their way to help me, although sometimes they complain about tourists the whole way. There are parts of the country where people very politely don't help you.

I find the people who talk too much in the South are mostly the people who talk too much everywhere, mainly little old ladies with time on their hands. The difference is that in the South people weren't raised to cut them off and are therefore at their rambling mercy.

Publix has always been blessedly free of people who talk to me, but they seem to be having some kind of friendliness drive among their employees and suddenly random employees are asking me if I need any help. I've been shopping there for more than a decade. I don't need help, although it would be nice if they stopped playing "hide the cake flour."

So, I was about 10 minutes late, she's not here, shocker. I sat at the bar, both bartenders walked be several times, didn't even look in my direction. When the girl next to me asked a question, the bartender ignored her. They were clearly busy with a big round, but they should have at least acknowledged a waiting customer.

I wasn't particularly excited about the restaurant, but my mother gets hurt feelings about stuff likr that. And, I didn't have another suggestion.

I am cranky, which will not be improved by her bullshit apology when she gets here. Last time, she was 30 minutes late in the middle of the day for a lunch date.

Good morning, all!

Morning for me...I'm on my third week of completely fucked up sleep; bedtime is about 9 am, and I get up about 4:30 or 5. HATES IT.

And stepson arrives Thursday morning, so switching around is necessary, but the doing of it will kinda suck. Everything is soaked about 3 inches up. The flip side of this is that all of the crap his exwife left in the basement (to pick up...when? she lives in frickin PA now) is kinda ruined, so I can toss a bunch of stuff without compunction.

I have done a LOT of laundry in the last day -- our washer/dryer is down there, and a couple of hampers of clothers got soaked, so I am getting it all washed. Needed to be done anyway, I suppose.

I am from the Midwest; I am very nice. Except when I am not, and then I am a fucking bitch.

P-C, have you watched "The Guild?" It's on Netflix streaming, and I decided to give it a go last night, and it was pretty cute. I ask because there's a most excellent smothering Indian mother, and it made me think of you. It's also pretty cute and geektastic, even though I am not a gamer.

The IT Crowd is also on Netflix streaming. D. loves it; I think it's pretty clever and funny. I'll have to tell him Series 4 is coming up. I think we get BBC. (The TV is still a mystery to me....)

bonny - didn't mean to leave you hanging - I do not recall any psychological support services. There was minimal job search support.

Nah. I shouldn't have asked the question, as I was fairly certain of the answer. It just galls me.

It just feels like, "Hey, thanks for doing this service. By the way re-entry stress is 10 times worse than culture shock and could really screw you up for a long time, so, uh, good luck with that. Buhbye."

My only conveyance peeves around here (having a very high tolerance for tourists) are a) big honkin' strollers on the escalators and tourist kids eating those disgusting blue popsicles on the train.

I had to take a dive over the top of a stuck stroller once as people piled up behind me on the Cleveland Park Metro escalator. It was full on terrifying. The parents seemed mystified as to why I was upset at them for putting their child at risk like that.

friendliness drive

It's both sad and amusing to see places that are normally courteously businesslike in the throes of "be more friendly!" movements. In places where I'm a regular, I'll whisper to the server, "It's OK, I'll tell them you were friendly, just relax." Sometimes I get a baffled look, sometimes there's a conspiratorial smile before they settle into their more comfortable aloofness.

Back when I worked at a job that had company holidays together (and I could bear the idea) we once all went to Club Med in Florida. Everyone's paid to be nice to you at these things--I'm well familiar with that crap, having grown up going to all-inclusives in Jamaica my whole life. But they were so bad at it there.

The gold mine, though, was finding the real bitter bitches, because they were funny. Them we bought alcohol and sat around and kvetched with, and then I made sure to give them really good reports to their bosses, because in the end they were way more fun than any of the people with the poorly pasted on smiles.

Sometimes the right customer service is just making the customer feel at home. And sometimes the customer is a bitch.

P-C, have you watched "The Guild?" It's on Netflix streaming, and I decided to give it a go last night, and it was pretty cute. I ask because there's a most excellent smothering Indian mother, and it made me think of you. It's also pretty cute and geektastic, even though I am not a gamer.

Oh, I love The Guild a lot. I even have the DVDs. Signed. And a signed shirt. If my mom really wanted me to be happy, she would find some way to hook me up with Felicia Day.

Speaking of supermarkets. I will say. In Dallas, the check out/bag folks *always* asked if I wanted a hand out to the car. Rarely did I take them up, usually only if I purchased a lot of jars or liquids. Here in CA, they *never* ask. Not sure if that is regional differences or company differences.

Here in CA, they *never* ask. Not sure if that is regional differences or company differences.

Interesting. I get asked about half the time, usually at Ralphs.