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Small Talk: We'll Be Right Back


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7 hours ago, Bastet said:

I don't relate to the "It's just me, so I don't need a dishwasher" crowd.  I cook two meals a day, and while I certainly employ shortcuts, I mostly cook from scratch; I generate far more in dirty dishes than a pan, plate, and fork in a day.  I have dishes, flatware, and glasses for eight, so I'd never have to run a non-full dishwasher because I was out of plates or something.  There would be nothing inefficient about my single self using a dishwasher, and in fact it's an inefficient pain in my ass to do dishes by hand (my house was built in 1938, and I'm not yet ready to remodel the kitchen, so no dishwasher yet).  I absolutely hate washing dishes, and complain to my cat about it every single night.  I just want to go to bed, and I've got the damn dishes to do.  I get up in the morning, and the first thing I have to do is put the damn dishes away (because I hate drying dishes even more than washing them, so I leave them to air dry overnight).  First world problem, indeed, but I will do the dance of joy the first time I can just scrape my dirty dishes, toss 'em in the dishwasher, push a button, and walk away.  (A convenience I took for granted when I had it.)

I miss my dear departed cat every day even after three plus years, but you know, he never did the dishes. Or helped clean the litterbox.

hmm.

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RE: Family with snoopy kid eaters - will be long, but it will feel good to get this out.

This family as a whole was a piece of work.  We live in a largely rural area that has a network of small towns that stretches for many many miles.  It's the kind of thing where these small towns are somewhat insulated, and they know if someone shows up who isn't from their area. 

The mom was from one of the most insulated areas.  Someone we knew who lived there asked us to meet him at a restaurant there once because my husband did work for him, and he wanted to take us out to eat.  Literally - the place got quiet when we walked in, and all eyes were on us.  The knew we didn't "belong" there.

The dad was from the town I grew up in (and where this family lived as well).  His family was one of the more well-known in the town.  His parents were big in to the local church and volunteer fire company.  He was an athlete in school (though not a good student) and that made him popular as well.  Not sure how he met his wife, as the towns tend to not socialize, but I never asked.  I think his wife thought he was a good catch.  Neither went to college, which is not uncommon here - especially for that time period.  He had a blue collar job and she was a stay at home mom, until the kids were both in school.  Then she worked in a local factory.

My mom and their mom were good friends.  My dad didn't care for the family, and preferred to not spend time with them, and would constantly tell me to essentially watch my back because he didn't trust them.  These kids were, for some inexplicable reason, held up on a pedestal by the community.  I still don't understand it, and never will.

Their younger kid and I were in the same grade, and we were friends, or so I thought.  I was naieve.  Later in elementary school, I began to suspect she was backstabbing me.  We spent one night a week at their house.  The moms would talk and we'd be sent upstairs, but the one my age was good at saying they were going to the bathroom, but would sit on the steps and listen in.  My mom would give confidential info to their mom, and the next thing I know, word would be around school (or church) about things my mom said and did.  And it would always be twisted around, etc.  My mom was overweight, and was always dieting.  She told their mom that the diet program she had been on at the time encouraged her to dump food out from the carton in to the trash so she wouldn't be tempted later to fish a full package back out.  That turned in to we had to lock the trash can at my house so my mom wouldn't eat out of it.  That kind of crap.  And in middle school, that's pure hell.  That's also the year I was told that we would be "secret friends" but if I got ignored in school, "don't take it the wrong way".  My mom and dad both said something, but were told that it wasn't their kid's fault that they were popular and I wasn't.

Growing up, birthday parties for those kids sucked.  There were games and prizes, which would always be won by one of their kids (which ever one didn't have the birthday).  The one my age wasn't above knocking me over to get to stuff coming out of a pinata, and did it several times.  The one a little older than me was kinder, but didn't want to hang out with younger kids, and I got that.  That one was shy, and quiet, but a nice person overall.   I would beg my mom to stop telling her mom stuff, and begged to stop going over there, and I think she finally figured it out.  When we got to high school, their oldest went to college, and the youngest was athletic and popular.  I was OK when she had nothing to do, but if she got a better offer, she'd ditch me.  She invited me to her house once, only to have her not be there when I got there.  And the person who dropped me off drove away, so I was stuck watching TV with the parents, which had to be wholesome TV, or game shows (and not good game shows).  The mom was completely unapologetic, seeming happy that their kid was chosen to go hang out with older kids, but forgetting that they invited me over, then ditched me.  That was the last time I went there.

When I got older, I realized just how controlling their mom was.  She micromanaged every aspect of their lives, and as I said on the prior thread, this was the 70's/80's, when that wasn't common, but she was seen as a "good mom" for being so in to her kids lives.  She would criticize everything I did, including how I got dressed - it wasn't "correct" (she walked in to the bathroom once while I was getting dressed - it wasn't anything perverted, but her comments about my getting dressed in the wrong order was just bizarre).  The food thing was another way she controlled them.  Most moms I knew then would be trying to break that habit instead of adding to it.  The kids would get horribly homesick if they were gone for more than 2 days - even with another relative.  I know the older one cried often at college and wanted to come home (she was only an hour away).  

One of the most frustrating aspects is how her kids (especially the one my age) were just out and out mean about stuff, and their mom just didn't care.  My mom would have read me the riot act if she found out I was listening in on a private conversation, then spread rumors.  Example: The younger one wouldn't stay at my house overnight after she stayed with a girl who was popular at school (middle school), and whose mother was a known "trollop" around town.  That girl's mom (parents were divorced) would go out all night and not come back until the wee hours, and usually drunk and with a strange man.  This terrified the younger one to the point where there would be excuses made to pick them up early from a party.  Before I could get another word out, my mom cautioned me about spreading that info around, and said I'd be punished severely if I did.  I complied.  Her mom didn't care at all about the mean behavior, and I suspect she spread some rumors herself.  Her kid with the "secret friend" crap was kind-of what she did to my mom later.  She was kind-of living through her kids, and figured she could get better friends or something.

When the older one graduated college, her mom and her mom's family made it their mission to arrange a marriage for her, beause I guess they felt she was too shy and wasn't attractive enough to find someone on her own (I always thought she was pretty - not like a model, but more of a girl next door look, but I heard others in her family say she was "plain").  The guy they hooked her up with was the first relationship she had, and she settled.  He's not particularly attractive, which doesn't necessarily bother me, but his personality is harsh.  He was considered a good catch because he had a job and owned a home.  Sad that this nice person was considered a commodity.

The younger one peaked in high school, and did OK in college, but gained a ton of weight and found out that they're really nothing special.  I do wonder, as I mentioned before, if they make different entrees for their kids.  Both work, so I highly doubt it.

Sorry for the diatribe, but every now and again I think about them, and they rub me the wrong way all over again so it feels good to get it out.  TL/DR: kids were spoiled, parents were poor examples who did some oddball stuff, and lived through their kids.  Small town politics at it's finest.

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RE: Hoagie Stores:

I haven't had anything at Jimmy Johns except for the Frenchie.  The bun on that is amazing, but it's a special bun. 

We have lots of good hoagie shops here - local ones - so I don't do much for chains.  I hate Subway.  I got sick there once.  For some reason, though, my husband likes it.

We got a Jersey Mike's a few years ago.  I stop by occasionally.  They're not bad, but a bit pricey.  We had Quizno's, but they all folded years ago.  I liked them for certain things.  The best chain to me was Primo's.  Based out of Philly but expanding to many states, they have amazing crusty rolls with sesame seeds on them.  They also sliced to order.  But the one that opened closest to me couldn't get a decent manager, and 3 tries later, they folded.  Everything is still in there - I keep hoping someone else tries.  They were always crowded.

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My subs consist of ham, and bacon, and it’s hard to get it right the first time no matter which sub shop I go to, but after I learned the lingo at Firehouse I haven’t had a problem.  I love their honey ham and they make it the perfect hotness.

Regarding dishwashers, we can’t have a built-in, and I bitched about it for the first ten years we lived here.  But after my third trip to the emergency room for stitches due to a dishwashing incident, we got a portable dishwasher and I LOVE IT.  I’m not entirely enamored with the room it takes, but I would sleep inside it before I would let you take it away from me.

Randomly, I was using a mouse today and I realized that I exclusively use the scroll wheel with my right middle finger and wondered if that was how everyone did it.

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I'm  pm. I am a right index finger mouse scroller.

My social club had a monthly meeting this morning that had me leaving the house at 8 am and home around 2 pm. I ran the dishwasher after dinner last night, and when I got home today it was emptied. I love that my dishwasher sometimes uses is self emptying feature. ;-}

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23 hours ago, mojoween said:

Randomly, I was using a mouse today and I realized that I exclusively use the scroll wheel with my right middle finger and wondered if that was how everyone did it.

I use my index finger for both scrolling and left clicking, and my right middle finger for right clicking.  (I hold the mouse with my thumb on the left side, my index finger on the left click button, my middle finger on the right click button, my ring finger on the right side and my pinky finger on the right side lightly resting on the mouse pad.)

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9 hours ago, mojoween said:

Ha!  That’s similar to how I feel about groceries- a grocery delivery service is a great idea.  A grocery putaway service would be DIVINE.

This story about Walmart's grocery delivery is 2 years old and I don't know how well it worked for them, but it might be the answer to many a working person's prayers.

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4 minutes ago, Bastet said:

I use my index finger for both scrolling and left clicking, and my right middle finger for right clicking.  (I hold the mouse with my thumb on the left side, my index finger on the left click button, my middle finger on the right click button, my ring finger on the right side and my pinky finger on the right side lightly resting on the mouse pad.)

me too

3 hours ago, Ashforth said:

The deadliest shoes of the 80's were Candies! Every walking surface was like an ice rink when you wore them.

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Low heeled or high, if you wore Candies, you were going down. It's a wonder I never broke an ankle in those ridiculous shoes.

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OMG! I loved Candies. I had them in every color. Why yes, I did fall on the dance floor once. But only once.

Edited by peacheslatour
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3 hours ago, Ashforth said:

The deadliest shoes of the 80's were Candies! Every walking surface was like an ice rink when you wore them.

image.png.88367fded6f180018ff937490a1b632d.pngimage.png.ce37f99c67b37f8039a824563e113ade.png

Low heeled or high, if you wore Candies, you were going down. It's a wonder I never broke an ankle in those ridiculous shoes.

image.png

Despite my accident on Famolares, I had one pair of Candies that I wore almost daily.  They were white plastic with holes (like lace, I guess) and the open back with the wooden sole/heels.  And they STAYED ON!  I can't find any pictures of that style, darn it.

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12 minutes ago, Brattinella said:

Despite my accident on Famolares, I had one pair of Candies that I wore almost daily.  They were white plastic with holes (like lace, I guess) and the open back with the wooden sole/heels.  And they STAYED ON!  I can't find any pictures of that style, darn it.

They really did. I used to be able to run in them. I had them in black patent, red, pink and gold, turquoise and tan.

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Wow, y'all were more balanced in Candies than my sisters and I were! We couldn't stay on our feet in those damn shoes. When you took a step and the shoe started sliding, there was no stopping the fall, despite flailing your arms, grabbing the person closest to you, or praying to God. Time would go into slow motion as you tried to avoid doing a split (none of us were that kind of limber) and then you were on your ass at the mall. Or, even worse, at school. At least on the dance floor, you could actually clutch onto people in the crush of the crowd to stay mostly upright and they thought you were just drunk instead of wearing ridiculous shoes. Oh, the eighties 🤣

Of course, we kept wearing them! They were the style!

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Re cats & olives (See "annoying" thread)...

I've ever only had one cat that reacted like that to olives (may have had more, but just never thought to give 'em an olive). Spooky loved them, would suck the pimiento out and leave it behind, bat the green olive around, hold it in his front paws and rub it on his teeth - he didn't bite the olive, just rubbed it on his teeth. But eventually, the olive would get raggedy & wouldn't be so much fun to play with anymore, so he'd abandon it, which left two wet things on the floor for us to step on. 

He was also one of those cats that figured if his head was hidden, no one could see him. He'd have his big, hulking body sticking out on the floor, while his head was under the china cabinet, thinking he was hiding from the other cat, Topsy, who hated him. Spooky was a very sweet cat, but Topsy was just a grumpy old man. We inherited him from my grandmother and I don't think he really like living with us very much.

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1 hour ago, funky-rat said:

So are onions, and I had a cat that would eat onions my mom would pull off of her hoagie (if the put them on by mistake).  He lived to age 17.  No, that doesn't mean I give them to my cats I've had since I found out about it, but it makes me wonder sometimes.

My cat once ate the onions off my fajita and then projectile vomited everywhere, so I believe the onion thing.

Just now, kariyaki said:

My cat once ate the onions off my fajita and then projectile vomited everywhere, so I believe the onion thing.

I believe they're not good for animals for sure, but I do wonder, just like people who live to be 100 by eating a pound of bacon, smoking cigars, and drinking whiskey every day, lol.

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I had a dog who would eat grapes directly off the vine.  Not many at a time, mind you, and she was a big dog, so they didn't really bother her as far as I could tell.  But it was a hoot to watch -- she'd pull her lips back like she was growling, but then gently use her little front teeth to pick a single, ripe grape at a time.

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20 minutes ago, Browncoat said:

I had a dog who would eat grapes directly off the vine.  Not many at a time, mind you, and she was a big dog, so they didn't really bother her as far as I could tell.  But it was a hoot to watch -- she'd pull her lips back like she was growling, but then gently use her little front teeth to pick a single, ripe grape at a time.

I knew a dog that would pick raspberries like that.  The wiener dog I had growing up loved grapes (all fruit, really, especially mangoes).  We gave them to her all the time because we didn't know they were bad. I've read that grapes affect some dogs and not others, and they don't know why.  I guess we got lucky.

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38 minutes ago, janie jones said:

I knew a dog that would pick raspberries like that.  The wiener dog I had growing up loved grapes (all fruit, really, especially mangoes).  We gave them to her all the time because we didn't know they were bad. I've read that grapes affect some dogs and not others, and they don't know why.  I guess we got lucky.

I used to share apples with my dog. A bite for me, a bite for him and so on. If I took two bites he knew and he would bark like "Cheater! I saw you! Cheater!"

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11 hours ago, Prevailing Wind said:

He was also one of those cats that figured if his head was hidden, no one could see him. He'd have his big, hulking body sticking out on the floor, while his head was under the china cabinet, thinking he was hiding from the other cat, Topsy, who hated him.

We used to have dogs when I was a kid, and one of them was like that, too. They'd hide their head under the bed, but the rest of their body would be sticking out.

I haven't done the olive thing with my cats, so I have no idea how they'd react to them. They don't really seem all that interested in people food-they might occasionally sniff around if they smell, like, fish or something, but they don't try and eat any of it. 

Except for tuna. My mom made some tuna dish recently and oh, boy, did they go nuts at that. One of them kept meowing at her the whole time, like, "Feed me!" 

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11 hours ago, Prevailing Wind said:

He was also one of those cats that figured if his head was hidden, no one could see him. He'd have his big, hulking body sticking out on the floor, while his head was under the china cabinet, thinking he was hiding from the other cat, Topsy, who hated him. Spooky was a very sweet cat, but Topsy was just a grumpy old man. We inherited him from my grandmother and I don't think he really like living with us very much.

As my late, beloved cat aged, when I took him to the vet he went from being on the lookout for how to escape the exam room after I coaxed (or pulled) him out of his carrier to being very still on the table while burying his head in my stomach/crook of my arm while I soothed him. I would tell the tech and the vet that I thought his mindset was that if he couldn't see them, they couldn't see him. I'm still grateful for the gentle and kind treatment he always got (even in his "determined to escape" days). I think they say this to all of the animals, but they always told him, "you're so handsome!" when we maneuvered his face so it could be seen. And he was gorgeous, as you can see (he's my avatar). 

1 hour ago, Jaded said:

I can't eat chicken in my home without giving my cat some. He gets his little bit, is happy afterwards and leaves me alone to eat in piece. It's the only food he bothers me for besides his own cat food.

Rotisserie chicken Sunday afternoons were great days for Caesar! Grocery store chickens, of course. I'd eat the wings while the chicken was hot and he would be right there, so he'd get a little something. After it cooled I would take all of the meat off the bone and set aside the little scrappy meat bits for him - they add up from a whole chicken. He'd get a nice little treat and I would dole the rest out to him in small portions over a few days. I would make some chicken pesto pasta, some chicken salad, maybe set aside a breast to put on a green salad, and eat for most of the week off of that bird.

He wasn't crazy about other "people food," except yogurt. He LOVED yogurt and would sit and watch me while I ate it, waiting for his turn to get the last bite and lick the container. A bit of delicious Greek Gods yogurt with honey was his last meal.

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Bosco likes dairy stuff, so he gets to lick the bottom of my cereal bowl. Stella loves cooked tomatoes, so she gets to lick the marinara residue. I have caught her sticking her paw in my glass of V8 and licking it clean. She also likes the crumbs of just about any baked good, even plain ol bread. The only made-for-humans meat they go for is turkey and Bosco nearly dances when I open a can of tuna, cause he knows they'll be getting the drained water, i.e., tuna juice.

No, the vets/techs do NOT tell every pet they're so handsome. They may be a little loose with the description, but not every pet deserves that designation, so they don't get it. We had one not too long ago - ugliest thing I've ever seen - a Sphinx cat - the hairless one. OK, we can deal with a hairless cat, but he had freakin' ZITS all over his skin. I'd be afraid to pet something like that. Of course, kitty couldn't help it, but, jeez, that was one ugly cat.

We had a long-haired black cat come in about a 1½ years ago. He was a found stray, no collar, no chip, and he was sliced up pretty badly. The docs thought it couldn't have been another cat; it had to be something like a raccoon he had tangled with. He was SO wounded, one of the docs suggested just letting him go, but the boss doc listened to the cat purring and said, "Let's see what we can do for him."

He recovered, his hair grew back (except on his ears), he was named Chill and one of the newer vets, who had never had a cat before, took him home. Her dog got along with Chill and he has thrived. She brought him in yesterday to clean his teeth and he hung out in the doc's office (where I do the data entry) and everybody that came in loved on him. I came home with black cat hair all over my shirt, because when all the chairs were occupied by people, so he sat on my lap & leaned on me. Dr. N. can't get over how much she loves this cat and now wonders why she never had a cat before. I love happy endings.

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Mookie Wilson normally doesn’t care at all when I am eating...until I bring home chicken from Tully’s. 

I think Tully’s is regional so you all might not know it if you aren’t in the northeast, but they claim they have the best chicken tenders on earth.  And damn they really are the best restaurant tenders I have had.  

But when I bring this food home, I suddenly have a new best friend.

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