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Posts Tagged ‘Annoyances’

Have you ever been sitting quietly and suddenly a song you didn’t even know you knew popped into your head?  Today, I was sitting quietly, reading and in popped, “All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey…”  Okay, I don’t even know the title of this song, but think it was by The Mamas and The Papas.   If this had been 30 years ago, I’d have to ask someone what those words go to.  Now, with the very fast help of Google, I find that I’m “California Dreamin” and can listen to/watch the Youtube video AND find all the lyrics and even order a copy to be downloaded as an MP3.  Wow!

For some reason, no matter the time of year, I will be driving down Loop 1604, heading for work or back home and I will suddenly start singing, “Sleigh bells ring, are you listening, in the lane snow is glistening, a beautiful sight, we’re happy tonight, walking in a winter wonderland.”  What???  That’s a Christmas song.  Oh, yeah…Christmas in July…August…April.  No matter what time of year, I guess I love me some Winter Wonderland.  Maybe it’s my rebellion against the almost continuous heat of South Texas.

Years ago, I heard someone call this phenomenon of songs sticking in your head “earworms”. Horrid thought. But fitting. They don’t go away and are so annoying! I think it is even worse when someone knows you hate a particular song and remind you of it, so it’s stuck in your head all day. It was like that with the awful Barney song. You know…”I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family…”. UGH!! STOP!!!!!!!! Make it go away!

So, what song do you hate to have as an “earworm”? And are there any songs that seem to recur at the strangest times?

“Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.”~ Unknown

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I know…it’s Mother’s Day and I DO wish all the moms out there a Happy Mother’s Day.  But I have to say, after being out at the stores earlier today and listening to all of the clerks and other workers wish me a Happy Mother’s Day, I started to wonder about how that makes other people feel.  Don’t get me wrong…there’s nothing about it that bothers me (except that I’m not a mother–unless you count my cats) and I don’t find it to be “politically incorrect”.  I think way too many people have gone overboard in that direction.  But, I wonder…for those women like me who are not mothers by choice, does it bother them?  Or, even worse, for the women out there who have tried and tried to have children and can’t, how does it make them feel?  I hurt for them.  It can’t be good.  And what about those women who’ve lost a child?  I know they are still mothers, but it has to hurt.  

Where do we draw the line before getting into that dangerous zone and cross into excessively politically correct?  I guess, we smile, we thank them and wish them a happy day, too.  And we hope that women who find it too hurtful avoid the stores and restaurants and all the other public places that are bombarding us with Happy Mother’s Day wishes and specials. 

So, to all those non-mothers out there…Happy Day! 

I think you have to judge everything based on your personal taste. And if that means being critical, so be it. I hate political correctness. I absolutely loathe it.” ~ Simon Cowell

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I know I’m feeling a tad bit irritated by the performance of The National Anthem tonight at the Super Bowl, and I know that I should just let it go.  After all, I’m only one person and my opinion probably doesn’t mean much.  But when I see (and hear) such an atrocious version sung at a huge event that is broadcast nationally (and to our military globally), I have to express my ire. 

I know that singers want to show off their vocal acrobatic skill (or maybe it’s a lack of ability to hold a note?), but why do people feel the need to do this to The National Anthem? Aren’t there certain songs that should just be sung as they were written? Aren’t there any people who hold that song as something above the average song? It is a representation of our country’s history. And it is a solemn reflection of our honor for those who have sacrificed so much to keep our country free, an homage to the victories that made us a nation. It should be much more respectful and not treated like the next single sung on the radio or MTV. We need to take back our traditions, our honoring of our past and the heroes who gave their lives for our freedoms. 

Let’s go back to the beautiful version of The National Anthem that was written for us so many years ago.  And, more than that, let’s hold our hands over our hearts, showing the rest of the world that we still appreciate and love our country.  And, lastly, get the lyrics right!

“The superior man understands what is right; the inferior man understands what will sell.” ~ Confucius

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How I hate to clean house. I love the end product, but there is so much to do that is much more enjoyable (translated–less boring, less tedious and less frustrating)). I love to read and I love to watch Food Network on the weekends.  I also love to shop and enjoy going to basketball games at a local university.  These are all activities that can (and usually do) trump doing housework.  So, I told my husband how much I hate it. 

We finally came to the agreement that since I work full-time and so does he, neither of us are that excited about doing housework.  In fact, he will vacuum, but refuses to dust.  I’m allergic to dust.  He will do the dishes (except the pots and pans) and helps a great deal with laundry.  Beyond that, we don’t want to do anything major…like windows, scrubbing floors, the bathrooms, etc.  So, we decided to hire someone.  A year ago.  And we still haven’t.  You might think this is another symptom of wanting to do fun things instead of work, but it truly isn’t.  We can’t agree on how to hire someone. 

I want to hire someone who comes highly recommended from someone we know or hire a lady at work who works in the housekeeping department.  She cleans houses on the side.  My hubby wants to hire a service.  I don’t want someone unknown coming into our house.  He wants someone who is covered by a big company’s insurance and has been screened.  I think that the people I was looking at HAVE been screened.  By the ones recommending them! 

So, a year after we decided to hire someone, we still haven’t.  Which means, I need to cut this short and start the housework–and do the necessary stuff and hope that we can come to an agreement before I have to break down and do the windows! 

“When it comes to housework the one thing no book of household management can ever tell you is how to begin. Or maybe I mean why.” ~ Katharine Whitehorn

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Sometimes I find myself singing the same song or commercial jingle all day long. A friend of mine calls those earworms. They can drive a person crazy or give you such an uplifting feeling (depending on the song or jingle). Recently, on Facebook, I posted a part of a jingle from an old commercial and someone told me she couldn’t get it out of her head and wasn’t too thrilled. I felt bad…I remember the time I kept singing the same song all day long…and it was one I hated. You know the one…from that annoying purple dinosaur that all the children loved so much a few years back?!  What earworms drive you nuts? 

Another unpleasant sound is traffic noise.  I know.  I live in a very large city and spend a lot of time on the road during rush hour.  You’d think it would fade into the background.  Instead, I can hear distinct differences between all of the cars that go by or those idling near me as we creep along.  That’s with the windows up.  So, I try not to add to the grating on the ol’ eardrums by adding to the noise with the radio.  I choose to listen to the radio when the traffic is almost non-existent.  Maybe I just can’t handle the sound overload.  I’m not sure of my reasoning, but I’ve come to enjoy the relative quiet of driving with the radio or CD player off.

And then the other noise that sends me nearly over the edge…a dry pen, scratching across paper.  My skin crawls…almost as much as fingernails across the chalkboard.  Those two sounds can almost bring me to my knees. 

What bugs you?

“In antiquity there was only silence. In the nineteenth century, with the invention of the machine, Noise was born. Today, Noise triumphs and reigns supreme over the sensibility of men.” ~ Luigi Russolo

 

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Oh, boy.  I should know better by now.  I’m old enough.  Yesterday, I went to a make-up makeover, because it sounded fun, a little glamorous to have someone else do my make-up and also like I would be pampering myself.  Don’t get me wrong…I fully enjoyed it.  And then…this morning I woke up with puffy eyelids and my eyes feel dry and a little itchy.  But it’s mostly my eyelids.  And since I’ve been using the particular company’s eyeshadow for years with no difficulty and love their mascara (that’s another weird eye story), I don’t think it’s that.  HOWEVER, the lady did use some eyeshadow base and I think that’s the culprit.  I look like I have pinkish-red eyeshadow on and my eyelids are puffy, puffy, puffy…like I’ve been crying for days.  You know what I mean.  It’s when your eyelids look like they are starting to puff over your eyelashes to the point that there is a “seam” with stubby little hairs sticking out.  Yikes!!! 

Needless to say, this isn’t my first eyelid disaster when it comes to make-up.  I warned the lady that my eyelids are very, very sensitive and that I can’t use ANYTHING with a red or pink undertone.  But in looking later at the eyeshadow base, it was very faintly pink.  Hmmmmm! 

Anyway, now to explain my previous disasters that should have warned me not to try anything new, product-wise.  Years ago, when I first discovered my allergy to make-up, I was wearing a purplish color of eyeshadow (because I have green eyes and purples and blues make eyes look VERY green).  I know…they say that vanity is a flaw.  I guess it did me in.  I wore that purple eyeshadow all day.  And that night, I washed my face and went to bed.  But my eyelids were itching.  The next morning, they were really itching and were sore.  I looked in the mirror and to my horror, they were red and looked like they were breaking out in some kind of rash.  As the day wore on, my eyelids got worse and worse.  Eventually, I had red, cracked skin, oozing sores and…well, never mind.  It was just disgusting!  I am VERY allergic to red dye in make-up evidently.  It was at least a week before I had normal eyelids again.  I didn’t wear eyeshadow of any kind for a few years.  In those years, though, I continued to wear mascara.

Now, for my mascara story that I mentioned earlier.  Being someone who was always looking for a new item to try (do you see a pattern here?), I tried a new brand of mascara when I “got bored” with what I had been using.  BIG mistake!  My eyelashes looked great with this awesome mascara.  Unfortunately, they didn’t look great for long…on my eyelids.  They fell out!  Yes, suddenly I had bald eyelids.  Oh, boy…do eyelashes take a really long time to grow in!  It was so embarrassing to have bald eyelids, I felt like wearing sunglasses for months.  Okay, they weren’t completely bald…I had a few eyelashes left–very few.  And I took very good care of them!  I didn’t wear any mascara and I was careful not to rub my eyes for fear they would fall out, too.  When my eyelashes finally did grow in, I switched back to my tried and true mascara.  And there are only two brands I now use…ever! 

So, now I tell myself I’ve learned (again) a valuable lesson.  I will no longer experiment with new eye products.  (Until the next time.)  Sometimes, vanity just gets in the way of sensible behavior.  Now I have to wait for the puffies to go down and hope and pray that my eyelids don’t break out again in that crusty, crackly, oozy mess.  Keep good thoughts for me, will you? 

  “Our vanity is the constant enemy of our dignity.” ~ Anne Sophie Swetchine

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I can remember when I was a little girl, flying on an airplane was quite an experience.  We got dressed up!  We were treated like we were visiting a high-end hotel or restaurant, the seating was comfortable and the planes were impeccably clean and well maintained.  The stewardesses (yes, that’s what they used to call flight attendants in those days) were extremely professional, polished, poised, and looked like models.  They catered to the passengers requests and did everything they could to make sure the trip was special.  And that was coach.  I can’t imagine what first class must have been like.  I never dreamed that I would ever experience it.  And by the time I did, flying first class was like coach was back in the day.  I must admit, first class now is pleasant.  In fact, far better than coach.  But I really wish I’d had the chance to fly first class back when it was REALLY something. 

Travel has changed so much.  Now, the flight attendants frequently make jokes while doing the safety presentations, rarely make sure you’re comfortable, and if you have a complaint or an issue that needs resolved…good luck!  I have to admit, some airlines are still far better than others.  I just wish we could go back to the days when the passengers were treated as if they were guests, not cattle.  Of course, that could be because some passengers act more like cattle than guests!  I’m amazed at the atrocious behavior of some of the people I’ve seen on planes recently.  I don’t know if it stems from the lack of good treatment, so they misbehave or if they misbehave, so they are treated poorly. 

I was actually flying first class recently coming from Chicago to San Antonio and a man sitting in the front row actually took off his shoes and propped his bare feet up on the bulkhead at about head level.  He was making himself quite at home.  I personally don’t care to see his bare feet, smell them or even have his footprints at my eye level if I’m the passenger who has to sit there on the next flight.  His daughter spent most of the flight running up and down the aisle to see her sister and mother who were in seats two or three rows behind her and her father.  As a child, if I’d attempted that, my mother or father would have quickly taken care of the situation and I would have only been up and down the aisle to go to the restroom and that would have been monitored closely by them.  No playing on the plane.  And I grew up flying internationally.  This was a 2 1/2 hour flight.  What could have been so important or urgent?? 

On another recent flight, in coach, my shoes kept sticking to the carpet at the base of my chair.  No matter where I placed my feet, they stuck.  I hadn’t had that problem until I sat down.  Upon examining my shoes, there was no gum on them.  They were just sticky.  Evidently, someone had spilled something on the carpet and it hadn’t been cleaned up.  My airline magazine in the pocket of in front of me was stuck to the bottom of the pocket by a big wad of chewed gum.  The baseboard on the bulkhead next to me was being held on by duct tape.  I’m still not quite sure why I didn’t write a letter of complaint to the airline.  Maybe it was because I knew I would get a form letter saying that the short turnaround times on flights didn’t allow them to clean the planes properly and that maintenance costs were rising while they attempted to keep the ticket prices down.  I don’t care.  I would gladly pay a little extra to fly in a clean plane!  I had to wash off my shoes in the restroom of the airport when I arrived at my destination, because my shoes were so sticky.  And I was too afraid to use the seat pocket because I didn’t know what else was in there.  Especially after the flight attendant told me I wouldn’t believe what some people put in there.  Needless to say, if a passenger can’t deposit trash, dirty diapers, dirty Kleenex and “barf bags” in the trash, maybe they don’t need to be flying.  That trip reminded me of a trip I once took on a bus and what a horrible experience that had been. 

So, I am calling all disgusted (not disgusting) travelers to join me in a revolt.  We are revolting against the revolting passengers that can’t seem to keep their body fluids and trash where they belong, can’t be civilized in public and can’t seem to be polite to the crew and the other passengers!  Let’s step back in time a little when travel was a treat!

“Civilization is just a slow process of learning to be kind.” ~ Charles L. Lucas

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