Archive for the ‘things that make me wonder’ Category

Today at the office, for my listening pleasure …

The honker.  Yes, he’s still at it and this week he’s recovering from a cold so the honking is definitely at its peak.  I’m still at a loss as to how that sound comes out of someone’s head.  It’s so loud that I can’t hear the guy next to me and actually have to stop conversations until he’s done. 


The saliva guy.  Nice as can be but the coworker in the adjacent cubicle is one of those people who seems to be drowning in saliva all the time.  You know the ones… every word spoken is through a puddle of spit that just hangs out at the back of his mouth around his teeth all the time.  I haven’t been spit on yet but it’s only a matter of time, really. 

He is also recovering from a cold this week so ‘saliva guy’ has temporarily turned into ‘very snotty saliva guy’:  the regular saliva still applies (but in grosser -pun intended- quantities) and is accompanied by phlegm-filled coughing and sneezing that you swear will require a mop to clean up.  I find myself wondering how that one little tissue does it!  And how he sleeps. 


The spreader.  You know the knob in every crowd that often doesn’t cover his mouth when he coughs or sneezes?  Yeah… gross, right?  This is another coworker that also seems to be more phlegmy than usual this week.  Not only is he not conscientious toward his fellow co-workers, but he is also the type that makes a big loud sneeze then turns completely silent afterward and you know he’s assessing the “damage”.  The other day he sneezed while on the phone with his woman and I actually heard him exclaim where it all ended up.  I’ll say again … gross, right? 


So yeah… these are the people in my neighborhood this week.  Once, yesterday, they all got going at once and it was like some really wet, sickening sonata that filled the room with sounds of snot and visions of germs dancing above our heads. 

All I have to say (after all the words above on the topic, obviously) is that these people better not make my pregnant ass sick.  I’m fine with a cold when I can take some NyQuil and wake up three days later feeling better and wondering where that new birthmark came from but suffering drugless through a cold is just no fun at all. 

Photo from http://www.canada.com/topics/bodyandhealth/gallery/germs.html?g=0

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I saw an infomercial that was laughable on the tube last night.  I know… they’re all laughable in one way or another but this was laughable in a ‘you expect this angle to actually sell this?’ sort of way. 

It was another Billy Mays product.  It’s not a cleaning product, a detergent, or a piece of play-doh that can haul a truck. 

No, this is … are you ready? … a pill.  An energy pill.  Yup, and the angle he’s using to sell it is, “if you want energy like me, this is the energy supplement I use”. 

I don’t know about you, but I have never looked at Billy Mays and said, “What can I do to have that energy?”.  No, I look at him and think, “How many uppers a day is this guy taking?  This guy needs to adjust his meds!  Could he be more annoying?  Is he half deaf or is there some other reason he yells all the time?  If he points at me one more time I’m going to rip off his fingers and shove it up his kaboom!”  I know his personality would win over some of the buying public but I seem to be the opposite. 

I couldn’t find the commercial on YouTube but if I do, I’ll update this post.  Instead, here is the super duper putty commercial. 

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On this topic I can stay quiet no longer. 

I will alienate the die-hards in the crowd.  My words will fuel the debaters hanging on the edge of their seats, just waiting for something to argue about.  I may even infuriate some of you… the adamant among you.  Of all this I am aware and yet I feel I have held my tongue long enough.  For too long.  I must wage on. 

I seriously hate Crocs.  I loathe them, detest them, dislike them. 



There.  I said it. 

But it didn’t stop at Crocs, did it?  No.  My circle of hatred widened a little more with every style… the sandals, the boots, the sandals, the slippers.  And then all of those little decorations they stick in the holes. 

I mean, how many other ways can they reincarnate ugly? 

And then, as if the million-and-one true blue Croc styles weren’t enough, the million-and-one companies creating knock-offs and selling them at every dollar store and corner store would make sure that there was a style, a color, and a price for everyone. 

Great.  Lucky us. 

I may have been able to jump on the Croc bandwagon if people had bought sensible colors.  But no, what have people gravitated toward?  Not the neutral colors that might actually have a chance in hell at matching an outfit in your closet.  No, people would rather match sunshine yellow Crocs with purple shirts, pylon orange with hot pink shirts, and Barney purple with those red shorts.  Because people buy one pair and wear them with everything they own

My god, I cringe everytime I see someone walking down the street with feet that could be lighthouse beacons. 

And that is my biggest problem with Crocs.,, the fashion aspect.  Day in and day out we are exposed to TV commercials, magazine ads, website pop-ups, and countless other methods of advertising that tell us we need to be on the cutting edge of fashion.  Now, I’m not saying that we should fall for all of that crap but what is it about these flimsy, rubber, hole-filled monstrosities that make people okay with throwing out even the basics of fashion sense? 

Oh, and for the record… just because you fashion them like mary janes, does NOT make them fashionable. 

Is it geography?  Is it because I live in rural, backwoods New Brunswick?  Surely not, because I see them even more often when visiting the nearest cities.  Do you see these things in the bigger city centers as much as I do around here?  I’m dying to know … and a little bit afraid at the same time. 

So there.  Despite how comfortable you say they are, I still think they’re f’ugly. 

And then there’s the social aspect.  Every time a craze like this sweeps our pathetic nations I find myself a little less amazed and a lot more disgusted at how quickly people stick their tongues out to “baaa” and lick at the asses of the sheep in front of them.  I guess some people are content with that but I don’t think I get it.  I don’t think I ever will.  I don’t think I want to. 

And to close?  The clincher:  one of the greatest … ha ha … ahem, and most powerful men … he he… of our time, seen here with his nose smelling like sheep arse. 


‘Nuff said, right? 

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Let’s continue on with the ‘things I just don’t get’ theme of the previous honker post, shall we? 

I really love snow.  I’ve mentioned it enough times here that I I’m stating the obvious, aren’t I?  There does come a time in every snow-lovers year when you are ready to see it go.  It’s like turning a switch on (or off, depending on what side of the snow fence you sit on); one day I’m nagging Hubby to go skiing one last time and the next I’m itching to be in my garden. 

But no matter how badly I want the snow to melt, I will never go to the lengths of one of my co-workers.  I believe you just need to be patient with some things and let them happen naturally.  Her… well, her and her husband have been shovelling snow for the past two weeks. 

“But … It hasn’t even snowed!”, you might say, with a puzzled look on your face. 

And yes, you would be right.  In fact, it hasn’t snowed in weeks.  The snow is mostly gone here but sad piles of melting snowbank remnants are still sticking around. 

Enter:  the snowbank in front of my co-worker’s house.  Yes, this is the snow they have spent the last week shovelling onto the lawn or driveway.  Shovelling the snow for the second time.  Okay, just making sure you got that. 

Now, the reasoning behind this is that spread-out snow will melt faster than if it is in a pile that is several feet high.  Will the snow actually melt faster?  Absolutely it will.  I am not disputing the science behind it.  I would lose. 

What makes me shake my head at this is the fact that someone would willingly shovel snow for the second time.  Wait, let me back up to make sure you understand … I am talking about a woman that complained to me every god damn day of winter about the amount of snow.  Having to drive in it.  Having to shovel it.  Having to watch it fall.  Now that the snow is nearly gone, she complains about having to shovel it for a second time so it melts faster?! 

Here’s another science lesson for the kids out there:  The snow will melt on its own

I also find myself wondering if I should start sharing my list of things to do with her.  How much time do you have on your hands if you’re shoveling a snow bank?!  I would be glad to share my housework.  No?  Laundry?  I could bring my mending into work? 

Sigh.  Some things I am just not meant to understand. 

To her credit (and the discredit of many, many others), she is by no means the only person who uses this snowbank-whittling technique.  And she is retired.  So yeah, if you don’t have a list of things to do that extends across the living room when you’re reitred, then kudos to you. 

But might I suggest Pilates?  Sudoku?  Watercolor?  Photography? 

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I am such a bad blogger!  Nary a word since that little pickle incident (which still rings true, by the way).  I would apologize but that would imply that I think there is a host of people out there that actually care about the random crap that rattles off my keyboard, and … well… I am a little more in touch than that. 

Speaking of pickles, I happen to like the random thought idea so I may start a bit of a series.  They’re quick and not time consuming so very fitting for work.  I’ll try a few more.  We’ll see. 

I will post a picture of the new hobby room on the weekend.  It isn’t purple.  In true Martell style, I got it about 95% done and haven’t been back to it since.  This weekend is going to be a rainy one so it will be calling, “Finish me!  Finish me!”.  Sometimes it’s loud and a little obnoxious so I can’t ignore it. 

For today, I will write about noses.  In particular, those that honk. 

We all know one. 

This particular idea comes to me from a nearby co-worker who seems to either have year-round allergy issues or a cold that has permanently lodged itself in his sinuses.  More than once a day, he starts on these sneezing fits where the sneezees come five or six at a time.  I know what you’re thinking… “That’s impossible!  No one sneezes more than three times in a row!” …well I am here to burst your sneezing bubble and tell you that is simply not true.  I’ve seen it.  I know. 

Here I will only briefly mention that the sneezes themselves are very loud.  All of them.  I’m talkin’ rattle-the-foundation, knee-to-the-groin, rosie-o’donnell-on-uppers loud.  If you don’t see them coming, you would swear the building is falling down around you when they start. 

But that is not the reason for this post. 

In between all of these sneezes, naturally, he blows honks his nose.  Loudly.  Short, blasting honks as he bends his nose from one side to the other, wiping each nostril I suppose.  And then he sneezes again.  Honk.  Honk.  Honk.  Sneeze.  You get the picture.  Sometimes the honking comes without the sneezing and includes longer, lasting blasts.  Just as loud, mind you, but longer than the more common short honks. 

Now, let me make it clear that I’m not making fun.  Everyone has to blow their nose at some point.  I prefer to blow in front of a mirror so no soldiers run amok and sit outside the battle lines where they don’t belong.  I like not having to question whether everything is okay on the nose front.  But I had a high school classmate that would go to the garbage can and blow her nose for a full three minutes… at the front of the class! 

No, I’m not poking fun.  To each their own. 

I think the word I would use to describe my feelings about honkers is ‘wonder’. 

I wonder… how does one even produce that noise using only their nose?  Can he blow his nose without honking or is that just the way it is for him?  Is it genetics?  The shape of his nose?  The way he blows his nose? 

I wonder if my nose will make that noise?  I don’t think it will.  Admittedly, I’ve never sat around trying to honk my nose (and I’m not likely to start including that in my Friday night activities), but I do wonder. 

And then I wonder, were people with honking noses the inspiration for the Honkers on Sesame Street?  Their noses honked when you squeezed them. 

I wonder if he does it for attention.  He is a little that way.  Maybe, as a child who was always seeking attention, he noticed that people looked sideways when a loud noise came out of his nose. 

I don’t know.  It baffles me, really.  It’s not that I want a honking nose.  I don’t.  I’m just curious about the whole thing.  Does anyone out there have a honker?  Can you not honk when you blow or is that just not an option?  I really want to know. 

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