Tuesday, January 1, 2013

The year of the Dempsey ...

I haven't run out of Subway in disgust in a few months, my stomach churning because some customer had managed to make a mayo-mustard goatee and neglected it long enough for it to dry and even crack in places. (Admittedly: I've been taking more meals down the street at a place that specializes in peanut butter, jelly and Cool Ranch sandwiches).

Yesterday I walked into the shop and a man was sitting in the corner taking two-finger swipes from a container of Top the Tator and pushing it directly into his mouth. Then, his fingers, wrinkled with wetness, he would dip them back into the condiment. I looked just long enough to determine that this non-Subway sanctioned food was probably pulled from his gym bag and, as far as I could tell, there was no refrigeration system in place.

He was directly in the path between me and my 6-inch chicken breast on Italian Herb and Cheese. I consider it a bit of growth that I was able to take this image, stuff it into a back alley brain dumpster, and still order. Though I did take my sandwich to go.


I didn't even know I had this pet peeve: A guy at the grocery store told me "Happy New Years" and my entire body seized the way it does when someone says "Anyways." I was at this thing one time and the host kept saying "Anyways ... anyways ... anyways ..." and by the end of the night every "anyways" as accompanied by a piercing ding in my head.

"Happy New Years" sounds like a person got stabbed before they finished their thought, or else they are sentencing you to a lifetime of happiness. "Happy New Year's Eve" would have been cool, albeit clunky and kind of like holding the door for a stranger, then releasing it early. Or "Happy New Year." A single year is just more manageable. More complete.

(In 2013 I sound cranky about silly things).


Some people will act like you're secretly lying if you say you are actually looking forward to staying home on New Year's Eve, watching "The Dark Knight Rises" and eating lime chips soggy with nacho cheese. But, considering we've done a version of this the past three years, I'd say it's safe to say this is a lifestyle choice.

This is what we did.

Truthfully, I'm terrified of being out in public on New Year's Eve. You have to take a road to get home and I just assume that the roads are filled with people who are playing Space Invaders with their cars. It doesn't help that when I drove home at 9:30 p.m. things were already looking loose and all five of the police cars I saw were in lights-spinning chase mode.

Chuck got home from work just before midnight, saw the cats whizzing from surface to surface, and said "That's exactly what it's like outside if the cats were cars."


Snooki isn't a terrible NYE host. I mean that sincerely. She's really comfortable with a microphone in a way that JWOWW couldn't duplicate.


As a New Year's Eve gift, TiVo recorded "Can't Buy Me Love." This is how we ended up staying up until after 5 a.m.


Have you ever considered Patrick Dempsey's filmography? What a trip. Here's a blast from the past. BTW: If you look closely, you will see the tiny buds that will later become Dr. McDreamy.


Sproactually said...

Happy New Year, is that a body over there?

How is the tooth thing going?

You can use copper sulfate in your sewer line to kill roots as well, it won't help once your blocked, but will inhibit the growth. You can also have the main leaving your house lined with a sleeve instead of ripping up the yard.

But yes, if you have a older sewer line, we all get to deal with roots.

Christa said...

Happy New Year, back atchya!
Ugh. Sewers. Who needs them.
I'm still having headaches. Less intense, still constant. Blerg.