I occasionally have these random thoughts. Rather than letting them die a lonely death, I decided to write them down until I had enough of them to post here. These are the ideas that I thought, “Gee, I should post a blog about that,” but then realize it’s either too stupid or short (or both) to create an entire blog posting for, so I save them in Evernote (I love that app!) until I have enough of them saved to torture you with them. So, as you read, you may be thinking, “Perhaps some of them should have died that lonely death….”

This is my first installment of “Random Thoughts.” Enjoy… or not.

The Privileged Seat in the Car

We were running late the other morning because my partner was dawdling while getting his lunch together. It’s a typical scene in our cozy, little abode. So obviously, we had to dash out the door to the car to get him to the train, where my partner continued to harangue me about driving faster, charging yellow lights, it being my fault that he was going to be late and miss his train, etc. When I refused to drive through a light turning from yellow to red, it drove my partner crazy that we had to sit there and wait for the light to change, the entire time continuing to bitch, piss, and moan about how he would have gone through the light, that he was going to be late, that it was my fault that he was going to miss his train, blah, blah, blah.

You see, with us, it’s the rule of the car that whoever’s butt is in the passenger’s seat has license to bitch, piss, and moan about the other’s driving. For instance, when he starts reaching 100 mph on the highway, I’ll glance over (he says I stare at him) and just quietly ask, “Are we late?” Then he’ll slow down to 50, giving me perfect rights to request to him (he says “whine”) to punch it.

I finally dropped him off at the train, and he made it just in the nick of time. Driving home to get myself ready for work, I was comforted with the fact that possibly this little “scare” might finally teach him to move a little faster in the mornings and not dawdle when getting ready (and thankful that he didn’t miss his train and have to take the next one, giving him another reason to complain about my driving).

When I got home a short string of texting ensued (my hopes of nailing home that lesson he should learn):

Partner: Train was here. Got in before it pulled out.
Curious Bloke: Good. And what did we learn from this experience?
Partner: You drive like a girl.


Job Searching

When I was searching for jobs, I always made an effort to research the company for which I wanted to work. I’d look up their website, I’d read up on their mission statement, their vision statement, looked at the type of company they were, and – most importantly – try to find out what their real name is (at the least).

I get such a kick out of these letters that come in where I currently work that are addressed to no one, at a company name that hadn’t existed in at least 5 years. Yeah, right. Like you’re really going to impress them enough to get an interview.

“Hello. My name is To Whom It May Concern. I’m following up on a letter I received from you inquiring about open positions for the company which hasn’t existed with the name you addressed in at least 10 years (even though it’s posted all over the internet with the current name). You would be perfect for this position and we’d love for you to come in for an interview, even though you don’t have any experience in the position for which you showed an interest.” – said no one whatsoever!

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo

Are you kidding me? Who the hell watches this crap?

My partner, that’s who! He records them and then we sit and watch them. Are these people for real? For crying out loud, they have to put English translations of what the hell they’re saying on the screen! Really? They’re freakin’ speaking English and they need subtitles??

Okay. So I watch them too…

Dancing in the Car

The other night my partner and I were driving home from visiting family. It’s about an hour’s drive or so, and since I drove up there to see them, it was my partner’s turn to drive home. That’s usually how we handle it, because he always gets lost going somewhere – even with GPS telling him turn by turn instructions.

GPS: In half a mile, take exit right.
GPS: In 0.3 miles, take exit right.
GPS: Take exit right.
GPS: Recalculating!
Partner: Oh, was I supposed to turn there?

On these trips, we love listening to Pandora Radio plugged into the speakers. One of our favourite stations is the Ricky Martin station (because it plays all sorts of Latin music and because Ricky Martin is sexy as hell!). This particular night, they were playing some great Reggeton music, and as we came to a red light at a large intersection, I started dancing in my seat – head bobbing, arms waving, ass shaking, etc. My partner looks over at me and says, “You realize our windows aren’t tinted…”

Apparently, though the passenger’s seat is the privileged seat to bitch, piss, and moan about the driver’s inability to drive, the driver’s seat is the privileged seat for smarmy comments.

I sat still.

Does Anyone Know Where the Bones-Eyes Are?

My partner and I were enjoying an absolutely beautiful afternoon at Longwood Gardens. We walked around the grounds for a little bit, then headed into the Conservatory where we always find some of our favourite displays (Okay… we went there because my partner had to use the bathrooms).

They also had the most incredible exhibit of Dahlias. It was an competition, and they had all the entries out on tables in the ballroom and around the Ballroom, the Exhibit Hall, and everywhere in between. They were gorgeous! Then we side-stepped out to see the blooming water lilleys (a favourite of ours), then headed back through the rest of the conservatory and greenhouses.

As we were walking down the one section, a woman came around the corner.

Woman: Excuse me. Are the Bones-Eyes down that way (pointing in the direction from which we came)?
Curious Bloke: I’m sorry. The what?
Woman: The Bones-Eyes exhibit. Are they down this way do you know?
Curious Bloke: Oh, I’m not sure. We came from this direction (pointing down another hall). Sorry.

Now, we’ve been members at Longwood Gardens for years and go there quite often, and I’m not a botonist, but I had absolutely no idea what Bones-Eyes were, or even what genus they might have been. So we continued walking, when my partner turned to me and said, “I think she was looking for the Bonseis.”

Really? Bones-Eyes? *Sigh*