Spontaneous Phrases and Grocery Shopping

     It came to my attention recently that there are a few key phrases in my day to day life that apparently just need to come out of my mouth.  I was washing a dog at work, and I did what I always do: I rinsed it down, filled my hands with the special tearless shampoo, turned back to the dog and cheerfully announced, “Face shampoo!”  Bemused, I asked the dog, “Do I always say that?”  Well, if the dog knew the answer to that question it didn’t tell me, but I was pretty sure I had developed the habit of declaring the imminent application of the face shampoo upon each dog’s face.  Upon further investigation, the declaration was often followed by the clarification: “…for your face!” in equally cheerful tones.  

    This discovery made me stop and consider what other things pop out of my mouth unobserved and on a routine basis.  As it turns out, motorcyclists trigger this Tourette’s-ish phenomenon;   specifically those foolish motorcyclists who feel compelled to ride about without protective headgear, eliciting from me the exasperated, single-word command, “Helmet!”  Also a common driving expression that I unwittingly spout when I find myself at a four-way stop: “My turn!”  ...well, its justified...it is, after all, my turn...  

    And I don’t know if it counts as a phrase, although it is a form of vocalization, but I find myself inclined to hum whilst I shop.  I’m not a crazy driver, but it’s not always possible to take turns at a creepingly-slow pace, and sometimes if I’m driving home and taking turns and there are groceries in the back….well, sometimes those groceries shift.  At which point I end up hollering, “Hang on, everybody!”  And I can’t help it.  If I have a passenger who knows about this urge of mine, then yes, they laugh at me.   

   Grocery shopping is a trying time for me.  People would do well to get out of my way, and usually they just don’t put in the effort to do so.  Lazy swine.  One day, in the midst of such unfortunate circumstances, I found a strange source of amusement.  I was enduring the bad luck of having to deal with not only poky customers, but a wheel on my cart that had somehow been slightly flattened in one spot, so that it clunked with every turn.  One might ask why I didn’t just trade that cart in for a better one.  Well, that cart was the one I had traded in for one that leaned heavily to the port side, and I didn’t have all day to be switching carts out for better ones, so I stuck with the clunky cart.  

    I was trucking right along, making good time toward the grocery section despite my clunking, when a woman who apparently had all day to shop pulled out in front of me and proceeded along at a snail’s pace.  At first I was annoyed, until I realized that the rhythm of my cart wheel’s clunking was heaping effective guilt upon her.  The sound of my approach was as follows:  “Clunk clunk clunk clunk clunk—clunk…clunk….clunk…….clunk………clunk…….….”  That woman knew what she had done, and my cart wheel had informed her of her wrongdoing.  Had informed everyone in the near vicinity of her wrongdoing.  She hung her head in shame and I veered off into the cookie aisle, wholly satisfied.  

    Listen shoppers, if you’re not going to shop at high speeds, then for pete’s sake, move over and let others pass.  It’s not a complex notion.  Alas, I cannot criticize with a clear conscience, because let’s face it, I do dumb stuff.  The other day I came home from buying groceries, filled my arms with bags, approached the door, and held up the key.  The van key.  What did I think I was I going to do, start the house? 

Dog Days

     For the past few weeks I have had the pleasure of working as a dog bather at Petsmart, or, to use the fancy term, I’ve been a “salon associate”.  I have to say, out of all of the jobs I’ve had, the role of dog bather is the one I’ve fallen into most easily.  I came into my current position with previous customer service experience and dog bathing experience, so all I had to do was learn the specific services we offer and the priorities within the system, and voila!  I find myself in a happy little niche. 

   Its also fantastic that my co-workers are so cheery.  There’s always chatter and laughter and helpfulness and good times.  I get my girl time, which I’ve been desperately needing since I left Shannon and Speed Scrabble back in Alamogordo, and before that my friends back east.  The dogs are usually splendid.  We get the bouncy fluffballs, the nervous shiverers, the massive shedders, the angry nippers, the frisky wigglers, the adoring kissers.     

   Sometimes I laugh at my dogs.  The ones who sail through the salon doors acting as if I’m their new best friend are the same dogs who find themselves dripping in the bathtub, their former fluff rendered into a sad sopping mess, gazing at me pitifully and cursing my sudden betrayal from under a mound of suds.  The velocity dryer also lends some amusement to my day.  The velocity dryer can be loud and strong and makes some dogs nervous, but others will lean into the airflow, allowing me to direct the jet of air into the dog’s lips, causing an amusing cheek-flapping effect that I cannot watch with a straight face.   

   My uniform, as usual, is out of the ordinary.  I wear whatever tank top I want because its covered by the salon (blast I can’t think of the word…poncho…smock!).  I wear black running pants that dry quickly, and water shoes for breathability.  There is no good footwear for a dog bather.  Boots will fill with water.  Sneakers just get soppy and stinky.  Water shoes at least breathe somewhat.  So I’m dressed all in black, but there’s nothing particularly cool about the look.  I shouldn’t complain, after all, what work uniforms don’t look a little goofy when you’ve left the workplace?   

   Not every day is all fun and games.  A schnauzer came in the other day covered in three varieties of ticks.  Parasites are never fun to deal with.  Some customers are impossible to please.  It’s a fantastic system though, because if a customer is giving me trouble, I can just refer them to a groomer.  If they give the groomer trouble, they can just be referred to a manager.  Its lovely to never be cornered or alone when problems arise in the workplace.   

   One thing that surprised me is my change in perspective since I’ve worked here.  I harbored a small fear that I would have to put on a façade to deal with the dog owners, who obviously would be shallow, frivolous people for spending hard-earned money on something as goofy as having someone else bathe, brush, and/or trim up their dog.  Unnecessary spending at its worst.  Ultimately I still personally want to end up with a low-maintenance breed when the time comes, but I have come to appreciate that people bring in their dogs for improvement.  Part of the reason for that is that its so easy for me to take pride in my work here.  Its so far from dreary, in fact its incredibly satisfying to receive a grungy shedding beast with overgrown toenails, and hand it back to its owner all soft, shiny, and shed-free.  Dog owners (or, as we say ‘’Pet Parents”) are excited to bring their dogs to us, and are usually delighted with the improvements.  We fawn over their dogs and tell them how wonderful and handsome they are, and they eat it up.   

   There’s lots of love in Petsmart, and so many upsides.  I don’t have to work to the point of exhaustion and then collapse into bed at the end of the day.  I don’t have to wander to the edge of the property and break frozen water buckets in freezing temperatures.  I don’t have to live with my coworkers or offer to super-size something that shouldn’t have been ordered in the first place.  I don’t have a long commute (10 minute drive, woohoo!).  I don’t have to sit at a desk and war with my conscience over whether or not I should smuggle a book in because there’s absolutely nothing for me to do.  I don’t have to try to help people accessorize or update their look when in reality fashion all but bores me to death.  I suppose there are downsides too.  I do miss the fulfillment of training horses.  Okay, maybe that’s the only downside, the dogs aren’t horses.  But really, its great fun to go into work and play with dogs all day.  In keeping with the great Dogs Vs. Cats Debate, however, I still like coming home to a cat at the end of the day. 

The Hunger Games Movie Review Through The Megfilter

Disclaimer:  I am not promoting or defending The Hunger Games beyond contestation.  I'm just sharing what I took from my experience in seeing the movie.:)

     I should not be allowed to write a review on a book or movie.  First of all, because I’m not much of a critic.  Secondly, because of my built-in filter that is both a blessing and a curse.  The megfilter lets in the good and keeps out the bad, which sounds good, and it can be because I usually only see the good in people.  Its also unfortunate because that means I’m generally a trusting fool that can be taken advantage of.  It means that a person can misspeak, and then catch themselves and I’ll laugh along and say, “Wow, I didn’t even catch that.” Because I knew what they meant.  I naturally focus on the intent, more than the content.  It means my husband can slip up and accidentally say something completely offensive  (as men sometimes will), and off my back it slides like water, (with me as the proverbial duck) because I know he loves me and even if it sounded rude, I heard the underlying innocence and harmless intention of the comment. 

   I wanted to do a review on the movie The Hunger Games, but the megfilter inhibits me from giving an impartial perspective on what I saw because I read into the message that the movie intended, instead of focusing on the content of the movie; the content that has a lot of people riled up.  The idea that teenagers are forced to fight to the death for the amusement of a twisted government is just awful.  But the megfilter moves right past that because there is a valuable and applicable example in the strength and nobility of the main characters as they are thrown into the most difficult and unfortunate of situations. 

   I recognize that other people may have different filters and priorities, and consider it important to make their own mistakes in life, to end up with a stronger appreciation for the end result.  Those people also don’t glue their ears to wise words or look for life lessons in everything they see or hear, and that’s completely their decision.  Personally I make it a point and priority to value each opportunity I have to observe another character with qualities and habits I admire, with the goal of applying positive traits to my (hopefully) ever-strengthening character.  Mistakes happen, but they slow me down and are considered things to avoid at great cost.  

   So yes yes, there is violent and disturbing content in the movie The Hunger Games, and young people as well as the parents of young people need to be very careful about whether they are observing the disturbing content as a warning, or, God forbid, admiring the gladiator-esque backdrop of the movie.  But as discerning adults let’s recognize that the violence is merely the  backdrop, and let’s focus on the admirable qualities and decisions of the characters.  (Those who know me know that I can't handle watching much violence, so that tells you that the movie wasn't all that graphic, as movies go) 

   To borrow a few loosely quoted observations from the movie review on pluggedin.com:  The main character Katniss is determined to respect life, despite pressure to do otherwise.  She is self-sacrificing, risking her life repeatedly for others.  Small gestures of kindness carry more weight than usual in this desperate setting.  Examples of standing up for the weak, caring for the wounded, and grieving the fallen had me in tears through parts of the movie.  Director Gary Ross was quoted saying, “It was Katniss’ humanity that people gravitated for.  This is a girl who fights for survival and finds something she is willing to give her life for.” 

   For me, the movie was a challenge.  How many days do I come home from work exhausted, grab whatever food is fastest, and sit down in front of a re-run of Friends to zone out until its time for bed?  The Hunger Games reminded me that we’re living in desperate times, and every day is a matter of survival.  Because we’re not here to just do our routine and go on existing.  Part of our mission on earth is to help each other through, even if it slows down our progress, or gets in the way of our success, or even puts our lives in danger.  We need to be honing our people skills as if they were survival skills, and we need to be alert and ready to help and encourage and inspire friends, strangers, even enemies. 

   I don’t want life to be about trudging on from day to day toward the gilded idea of worldly success.  I want each day to be an adventure, where I know that I was plopped down right where I am with a specific set of skills for a specific reason.  That even though I face opposition at every turn I know I’m not alone.  That its up to me to gather the knowledge and skills that I’ll need to complete my life’s work.  I may not know where I’ll end up or even how I got there.  I can’t count on ever hearing from another person thanks or that I made even the smallest difference.  But then, I don’t live for earth’s applause.  I live my life to die and hear the words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”  

“Therefor since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders, and the sin that so easily entangles and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”   -Hebrews 12:1