I left my house this morning at 10am or thereabouts to go to the post office. I love going there; my postmaster treats Gracie like another one of her granddaughters. And she's just really nice anyhow. Most of the time when I'm there and it's dead (which is most of the time), I stay for half an hour or 45 minutes just to chat. I love having a post office that's never busy.
The only problem is, while my postmaster works nearly every day, she doesn't always work on Fridays. So when I went there today, Psycho Mail Clerk (PMC) was there instead. I really, really, really don't like PMC. She's an eejit!!! No, really, she is!!! One time someone needed to mail something to Canada, which should be pretty straightforward since so many people here have friends and family right across the border, but PMC couldn't figure out how to send it!!! I'm partly prejudiced too because the mailman on whom I had a major crush really didn't like PMC either, so I heard bad stuff about her from him. I just don't trust her. Last summer, I knew my postmaster was going to another post office to work for a couple of days while that post office's postmaster was taking a vacation, so instead of going to my local post office, all of two miles down the road, and having PMC send my packages, I drove about ten miles out of my way in order to go to my normal postmaster. This is how much I don't like PMC. Unfortunately, PMC was working today... so let's see if Michele gets her bubble envelope of stuff in a decent amount of time, or whether PMC misplaces the damn thing. I waited around a bit after PMC put the postage on the envelope so I would know beyond a doubt that she put a priority sticker on my package. I wouldn't put it past her not to remember to do that.
After the post office, it was off to Wally World. God, I hate that place!! I can spend money in there like it's nobody's business, and still not come out with everything I need!! I had forgotten my list when I went to the commissary a few days ago, so I went to Wally World to pick up what I had forgotten. Did I remember to take a list with me?? Noooo, of course not!! So I will have to go to either Albertson's or the foo foo grocery store next week to get Gracie some Cheerios. Or maybe I should just make her eggs for breakfast.... Toast works too... hmmm. But I did remember ricotta cheese so I can make Kurt some of my awesome veggie lasagna!!!
Yesterday Kurt was working at a state park north of here that used to be a military installation, called Fort Flagler. The Navy had sent most of the guys on his ship to the state park in order to assist with cleanup as a community service. Kurt wanted to show Gracie off to the guys he works with, so he had me come up to have lunch with them.
Once everyone got done with their lunch, they all decided to go outside to play a round of "Smear the Queer." I kid you not; this is the name of the game. I'd never heard of it before, which Michele ascribes to my being too young. I am not so sure it's because I'm too young -- I think it has more to do with the fact that I am not a guy!!! You see, the rules to this game are simple. Someone gets the football, everyone tries to kill the guy with the football, and once the guy with the football is tackled and ground into the dirt, he throws it up for someone else to catch. Now that guy is the guy with the football and therefore the guy to clobber. I don't think there are any points scored or anything like that.
See, this is the difference between guys and girls!!! You put 20 guys together and give them a football, and they try to kill each other. You put 20 girls together and give them a football, and they'll just stand around in a circle and find something to discuss -- clothes, hair styles, tv shows, raising kids, politics, bad husbands, etc.
I really felt like I was back in junior high school, standing on the edge of the playground during recess.
Kurt didn't play, for which I was grateful. Knowing his bad knees, someone would have landed on him and torn his ACL or something along those lines. And I like having a husband who can walk.
But dang, was it cold up there!! It's right there on the water, and the wind just whipped around and through all my clothes. I was freezing. I'd put poor Gracie in a skirt before I went up there, thinking that we'd be inside the whole time and it wouldn't be a problem. Plus it was 50 degrees and sunny at the house, so it's not like sh ewas going to freeze to death. Unfortunately with the wind up at Fort Flagler, it was really cold. It didn't seem to bother her; she wanted to join the game of Smear the Queer going on!!!
Happy March!!