Beat Egg And Add to Dry Ingredients

I just had a young guy come into my office and try and sell me a bucket 'o Christmas cookies.

He came in, politely introduced himself and offered me a cookie. Normally that would be about all it would take to ensure my life-long friendship, however these were chocolate chip biscuits and with even the tiniest bit of chocolate setting me off with a blinding migraine, I explained that I couldn't actually eat his wares but figured it at only $14 it would make a good present for someone.......... That and I realised my much loved 'Banana Guard' was sitting next to my bag on the floor and rather than try and explain what it was, I figured that while he was filling out the order form I could surreptitiously slip my banana holder into my bag.

OK. Before you ask, it is to protect your banana from getting bruised or squished in your bag and yes they did have different colours available but I like purple, yes it does fit most bananas and girth is more important than length, and yes I am still talking about bananas.

Once I had removed my amusing yet functional Banana Guard from view I looked back at the cookie dude and realised that my eyes had initially tried to protect my brain from acknowledging the pattern of his shirt. I realised it was in fact a pattern of hundreds of chocolate chip cookies. Imagine if you will, a shirt completely covered with this:


Urgh.

So I said to him:

"You know, your shirt is kinda mocking me.........come to think of it....it is kinda of mocking you too."

He said "Yeah, I know...that and the short sleeves and them all being one size too short sucks"

Amused I asked "Is it the same for the girls selling cookies?"

He responded "Yeah, perhaps even two sizes too small for them which isn't really a bad thing...uh...depending on...ummm...ahem...your...err......."

Perhaps he did see my banana holder.

Putting the Y in Cynicism

In my final year of college (New Zealand equivalent of high school) our Dean was this very tall, very thin and indescribably intimidating woman of indeterminate age.

Now don't get me wrong - In general I liked the woman. She was funny and for the most part empowering....she was just a complete nutbar.

As an English teacher who refused to acknowledge students from any other year ("You'll become human once you're in seventh form Puppy"), she only taught a few classes a week. I imagine the rest of her time was spent scaring the younger students, bullying other students into attending their end of year ball, bleaching her hair platinum blonde, putting at least five gold rings on everyone of her fingers and talking girls for one of her 'walks'. I guess that is why she called everyone Puppy....that and I suspect she was bad at names.

A 'walk' involved a brisk trip around the block, the length of the route determined by how messed up Ms P thought you were.

While other girls were taken for such 'walks' because of their recent emotional breakdown in class, a messy parental divorce, a rumoured abortion and/or detox from their cocaine addiction....I was pulled out of class to go for a 'walk' regarding my "excessive cynicism"

Pah. Typical.

As I trotted alongside Ms P to keep up with her impressively long stride given her high heels and long skirt, I was forced to explain why I appeared to be so cynical. Rather than tell her the truth about the emotional toll of being a fat, ugly kid with a kooky sense of humour at a white-bread school, I formed an explanation which has since become my theory on life.

Being an Optimist only leads to disappointment.

As a Pessimist you always think the worst is going to happen. If it does, not only were you expecting it, you are actually proven right. If the worst doesn't happen, not only does a good thing happen, but you'll be pleasantly surprised about it. Therefore pessimism and cynicism are really the most positive positions to take in life.....

Therefore I never had to go on another 'walk'.

The Violence In My Head Goes Round and Round

The other morning as I held on to the (loose) hand-rail to prevent myself from being thrown around the bus like the last peanut in the jar, I wondered whether bus drivers derive some sort of sick pleasure from driving like a sadistic bast*rd when the bus is packed and there are a bunch of people standing.

I began to wonder whether bus drivers have to sit some sort of test to check that once all seats on the bus are taken, they can maintain constant bunny hopping based acceleration and all braking can be akin to emergency stops.

I then realised how negative and paranoid this line of thinking was and decided to be a little more realistic.....

It's a game for bus drivers.

With video cameras now installed in all buses the drivers are having some sort of carrier-wide competition. I have no idea whether the name of this game is 'Human Skittles', 'Commuter Derooter' , 10 Pins Bowling or the 'Bus Martini' (shaken not stirred) but I can hazard a guess at the scoring system.

1 point
Commuter swears under breath
Commuters share meaningful/exasperated glance

2 points
Squealing, shrieking and/or screaming
Bus rage exhibited as a result of foot trampling and/or someones handbag being poked into someone else's back repeatedly.

3 points
Crying, sobbing, and/or fetal position
Someone accidentally presses the bell when they stumble and they feel obliged to get off several stops early
Woman wearing a skirt falls down (+2 bonus points , if she is hot and not wearing underwear, -4 points is she not hot and not wearing underwear)

5 points
Head, eye or groin injury suffered by hitting handrail
Bag gets knocks over (+3 bonus if tampons, condoms, KY, fluffy handcuffs, and/or suppositories spill out down the isle)


My bus driver got at least 12 points out of me on that trip.

Only Because 666 Was Taken

This morning I got a kindly SMS reminder from my cellphone TelCo that my account balance had just dropped below $5. As I do every time I receive such a message I dutifully dialed 777 and listened to the 2 minutes of promotional material that is always significantly louder than the rest of the following automated top up menu.

Once you've got past the promotional spiel the process normally is:

Step 1: Press 2 to top up
Step 2: Press 2 to top up by prepay or credit card
Step 3: Press 1 to top up by credit card
(Transferred to a new menu)
Step 4: Press 1 to top up by credit card
Step 5: Enter your phone number
Step 6: Enter your 4 digit pin
Step 7: Enter the last 4 digits of your credit card
Step 8: Enter the amount you wish to pay
Step 9: Press 1 to confirm that amount
Wait for confirmation
Hang up

Not what I'd call a streamlined process so you can imagine my joy when, after the unpleasantly loud promotional speech, the robot lady told me that my TelCo had made some 'exciting new changes' to their automated menu to make it easier to use.

At first listen it seemed that this streamlining involved the radical measure of removing Step 4 however as I progressed further through the menu I found the other change they had made - they had changed my pin number and not advised me of the new code. I guess I'd classify this as exciting.

The trusty pin I've been using for the last 2 years had suddenly become invalid. Not trusting my caffeine influenced dialing fingers I hung up and tried again. Adjust volume, sit through promo menu, adjust volume back, move through repetitive menu selections and I find that after two unsuccessful pin entry attempts you are blocked from trying again.

Alrighty, I need Customer Services however there is no escape from this menu. I hang up, dial, adjust volume, sit through obnoxious promo menu, adjust volume, move through insanely repetitive menu selections.

I get through to the credit card menu again waiting for the guy to tell me which button to press to get assistance but he wants my phone number and my pin before I can move forward. Ummm no can do buddy. Ok, perhaps I need to get help via the last menu. No way to go back. Hang up, dial, adjust volume, sit through repugnant promo dribble, adjust volume, move through retarded menu selections.

No help on the previous menu. Will try the main menu. No way to go back. Hang up, dial, adjust volume, sit through maddening promo crap, adjust volume, move through idiotic menu selections.

No help available on main menu. In frustration I go through to the 'let me spend more money with you' menu selection to try and get a human being but I'm told the phone lines are overloaded and that Robo bitch tells me to try again later and disconnects me.

Now seeing everything in a vaguely red tint I go to the TelCo website to try and get some assistance. The only FAQs they have relating to credit card top ups direct me to call 777 for assistance. I realise I am developing a facial tic.

Determined I attempt to submit an email help request but find that I need to enter my pin in order to use this feature. My facial tic has now evolved into a full shoulder movement, accompanied with the occasional kicking of my foot.

With spirit nearly broken, I decide to just use the website payment gateway. I find that you need to Register for this service and the turnaround on confirming a new account is 15 working days. In addition to my violent, full body tics I start to experience severe Terrets.

I post a strongly worded 'feedback' email outlining my dilemma and requesting someone contact me for assistance. Within 10 minutes I receive an email back with an automated message saying that due to excessive demand, there is a 7-10 working day turnaround on all emails and that I should contact 777 for urgent assistance.

Blinding uber rage followed by shortness of breath and a sharp pain in my shoulder.....