The Seedy Underbelly of the Swap Meet-- How Tasty!

I have been to some pretty frightening swap meets in my lifetime. I have no, repeat NO interest in walking around a parking lot, looking at other people's castoffs, but USMCMan seems to have a genetic imbalance that drives him to seek out and wander swap meets across the country. (NOTE: This genetic imbalance comes from his mother, who is the Queen of the Dollar Stores and Flea Markets. In fact, she takes buses of fellow seniors on tours of flea markets in PA. Truth!) Thus it was that USMCMan, Thing1, Thing2, and I were headed to the Oceanside, CA swap meet.

Some swap meets have themes. Some are known for permanant structures and long-time residential vendors. For example, the High-Desert area of Yucca Valley, CA has a swap meet that features an 'unwashed jeans' vendor. This means that all jeans that he sells are foul beyond belief, full of true, American stink. What doesn't sell at the swap meet is Ebayed to Japan by the crate. Nasty? Yes. Yet, it must work for him since he's been in the same stall, selling crappy old jeans since before the Civil War.

The Oceanside swap meet is at the site of a former drive-in movie theater. It's really huge. It is also 98% Hispanic. As we walked in, I had a vague urge to search for my passport. It really was like going to Tijuana-- everyone talking Spanish, Mexican soccer jerseys flapping from stalls, the smell of Mexican food wafting from the food area. We walked up and down the aisles, staring at the oddities: thousands of bras in piles (how would you know if it fit?), bins of thong underwear, millions of used tools, mariachi band CDs, and pile after pile of used clothing. It was really crazy!

Then I began noticing people carrying bags of wheel-shaped chip thingies. The bags were about the size of a standard Dorito bag, but clear plastic. The tops were cut off and adults and kids were munching. The funny thing was that some bags were splattered on the inside with red goop. Of course, I had to find out what was going on, so I started watching for people with full bags. Full bag = vendor nearby! I finally found a food tent with hundreds of the bags all piled upon tables. People would buy the bag (flour-based chips), cut off the top with the vendor's scissors (many pairs available) and then grab spray bottles and squirt inside the bag. I discovered that the bottles had lime juice or lemon juice in them. Then, the customer would grab a bottle of liquid: hot sauce or sweet/sour and squirt happily into the bag. Off they'd go, munching the "Durito". It was a similar combination to the chicharrones (pork rinds) that are flavored with lime/chili or the Cheetos flavored the same way. But do-it-yourself. How cool! Little kids were getting plain bags. Maybe a little sweet & sour. Adults were snurfing the hot sauce.

I couldn't stand it. I bought a bag, cut the top off, squirted the lime spray inside, and glooped in hot sauce (but only on one side). YUM! Really good and tasty. Later in the day, they weren't so tasty-- they got a little mushy and stale-- but still very different. I'll have to admit it. The swap meet wasn't so bad because I got to try a new experience. I think I'll go back with The Illustrated Librarian and DecoyDuck so they can experience the seedy underbelly with me!

Just Can't Say No...

Somehow, I seem to get sucked into "projects". Usually, they're for a good cause... support the library, support the school, support the homeless muskrats. Whatever.

This time, it's SCHOLASTIC BOOK FAIR.

I have a deep and abiding hatred for fundraising. My version of HELL is going door-to-door selling ginsu knives and crappy magazine subscriptions. I understand the need for it, especially since we're now living in California, The Land of the Unbalanced and Bloated Budget. However, times are hard, and people need to cut back on spending and that includes buying stuff they don't need. The question is: at what point does spending money on necessary items become a priority to the point where you have to say NO to fundraisers that may benefit you or your family?

IE.---I love Girl Scout cookies. Who doesn't? Mmmmm. Thin mints... However, at $4/box, for 10 or so tiny cookies, they aren't a bargain. Is it time to start saying NO THANKS to the Girl Scouts? I know they need the money for projects and events. I like the Girl Scouts. I like their cookies. I may have to say NO to both. I don't want to, but I may have to JUST SAY NO.

Back to Scholastic Book Fair. I am now the chair for this event at our school. Yea for me. (IDIOT!) However, it is going to be difficult for me to say "buy these books with your hard-earned cash" when I know full well that people are scraping by. Does buying a book benefit the kid/family? Yes. Does it benefit the school? Yes. More so than buying a box of Thin Mints which will put lard on your butt. And yet, it is still solicitation, fundraising, money begging... whatever you want to call it. It is a tough job in these economic times. I'm not entirely happy I'm doing it and I'm wishing I had another option. Can't the kids just Ebay their kidneys for the school?

Thinking about this makes me crabby. I'm going to my freezer now. I'm looking to see if any of LAST YEAR'S financially guilt-free Thin Mints are left...

Exploding Purses and a Proposed BAN on Backer-Uppers

This first part has nothing at all to do with the second part of my blog, but I had to share. I was in the Commissary (military grocery store) when my purse EXPLODED! Actually, the strap snapped, but because there was metal and bits of attachment gear involved, pieces-parts went flying everywhere! My purse dropped to the floor and things spilled out, of course, so passers-by were helping me retrieve my crap. Picture me and three Marines all scooting around on the floor trying to pick up keys, Kleenex packs, chapstick, and pens. (Thank goodness my Tampons were in a zipped side purse!) The funniest thing is that when it happened, I was standing near the produce section, next to a huge bin of avocados, and think part of my purse strap is STILL in the avocados. Maybe someone will find it by Cinco de Mayo?

Now, on to my latest rant about...

People Who INSIST On Backing Their Cars Into Parking Spaces.

AKA. -- EVILDOERS.

Just like the crazy people in the public libraries are never 90lb weaklings (they're always 350lbs of crazy-man-musclefat), the people who always back their cars into parking spaces are those who drive SUVs and bigass vehicles. They take FOREVER to go back...and forth...pull out...and go back... trying to wedge their leviathan into the space. Why not just go IN FORWARDS? What is the attraction with BACKING IN??? Does it get you in/out of the spot any faster, in the long run? NO! Because you took 2 hours getting INTO the spot in the first place!!! Is it any safer? NO! Because you're blocking and impeding the traffic while maneuvering into the spot and most likely dinging the doors of the person you end up parking too close to!!!

I am irked by backer-uppers. Why do they do it? Anyone? Any backer-uppers willing to spill your guts and explain yourself?

At Last-- Someone Defends the Public Employee

It's rare that people stick up for a person who's in a public job. Having been yelled at, verbally abused, and physically threatened in my many public library jobs, I can always appreciate the plight of the worker bee. SITUATION: You're stuck working with the public, which might not be as bad as, say, being Brittney Spears' personal assistant ("Um, Brit, I don't think that's a good idea, either..."), but it's never 100% pleasant. Remember the "My tax dollars pay your salary!" line? That one usually comes right after you've denied an outrageous demand.

I was in the commissary (read: grocery store) shopping with Thing2. We had just 4 items, so we got in line at the Express Lane. It wasn't moving very fast, and as I walked up, I got a sense that the female checker and the old (retired) dude at the head of the line had been having "words" about something. Or rather, he'd been bitching at her. I didn't hear any of the verbal abuse or what had preceded it. I just knew that there had been Big Trouble moments before I walked up. (Thing2 was oblivious to everything, which is always for the better.)

Between me and grumpy old turd was a young Marine, paying for a ginormous sandwich from the deli -- his lunch. He was looking rather annoyed and flushed, becoming more and more so as I watched. The checkout clerk finished the transaction, said, "I'm sorry I had to re-ring your sale, but it was the only way to clear the problem." Grumpy just grunted rudely and took two steps past the lane to peruse his receipt-- making sure she knew he was double-checking her work.

Apparently, whatever the old goat had been bitching about had been way out of line, because after his sandwich was rung up and paid for, the young Marine stepped over to the guy and began chastising him! He used phrases like: you should be ashamed of yourself, that was uncalled for, and if you don't like shopping here, go someplace else and stop abusing the workers! He'd been there for the whole thing and obviously decided that it was time to take action.

WOOOOOO! Someone steps up and defends the defenseless!

As always, I'm unable to keep my yap shut, and I commended the Marine with a loud, "good for you!" Not one to be left out of anything, Thing2 began applauding--she still had no idea what was going on, but she was determined to clap anyway. Old grumpy turd gave everyone the stink-eye and skulked away without another word. Bastard!

It was nice to see someone sticking up for the service worker, for once. I hope someone sticks up for YOU if you're getting crap from some grumpy idiot.

Getting Ready for Christmas... Need Screwdriver NOW!

My beloved friend, The Illustrated Librarian, is wonderful, intelligent, lovely, and INSANE. She drop-shipped me an enormous box for Thing2's Christmas gift. Does TIL spoil me an my kids? Yes she does! Do I love her to bits? You betcha I do!

"It's the SHIT!" she shrieked enthusiastically over the phone to me. "She's going to go CRAZY over this!"

Once the box was delivered, and I pulled out the gift, it crossed my mind that -I- was the only one who was going to go crazy... putting this damn thing together.

Let me introduce you to the Disney Princess Vanity Table. Pink, pink, pink. And more pink. *See Picture #1* I opened the box and the vanity was in 3 trillion pieces, each one carefully wrapped in tissue paper. A tiny note complaining about carpal tunnel syndrome, written in Chinese, accompanied the package of screws and tiny parts. UGH! I was prepared for the worst. I didn't even have a glass of wine prior to beginning my put-together session. (Yes, I know, it's the End of Days.) I sat down and carefully pulled out all parts and then opened the INSTRUCTION BOOKLET. Not a page. A BOOKLET. *See Picture #2*

I really couldn't see how Picture #1 could be obtained from the parts in Picture #2. No. No. No.

All the instuctions were pictographs. No words. You must have to supply your own, including curse words. Part A, B, C, ... you get the picture. I started matching parts to letters, suddenly realizing the GENIUS of the Chinese manufacturing company: each piece identified by letter in the instruction booklet had the matching letter molded into the inside of the part! Ie., part A had a plastic A on it! Wooooooopeeeee! No guessing, no comparing parts, hoping you've picked up part C and not part Q. Each part was labeled.

From then on, it took me only 30 minutes to put together the table. Easy! All the parts were there, each one fit, and it worked perfectly. All Thing2 has to do is unwrap and play with it. If TIL's ears were burning at the beginning of the process--as I used a few choice words--then her heart was glowing with praise when I finished. TIL is right. It IS the shit. Thing2 is going to go bonkers. Once again, TIL comes through with the coolest gift.

XOXO, TIL!

Keep Your Feet Covered, Hobbit-Boys!

I'm all for comfort. I enjoy not wearing high heels. I relish the soft cushion of sneakers or flats-- makes me and my tootsies happy.

However... there are some people who take comfort to a new level of low. Wearing flip-flops (and sandals!) in WINTER. These people, no matter what the temperature, can be seen flop*flop*flopping around in stores, at the gas station, and (gak!) in the grocery store. Someone call 'Fashion 911'!

BURN THE FLIP FLOPS! BURN THEM, I SAY!

Summer feet are happy, sun-kissed, manicured feet. Winter feet are gnarled, hairy, scaley, NASTY CREATURES that should be kept decently wrapped up like mummies in socks and shoes. Men, especially, should NOT be revealing their winter feet, unless their winter feet are spending the winter in a warm beach location in the southern hemisphere. NOTE: NC in December is not so warm, yet is overrun with hairy, nasty feet in flip-flops. Why?

Why, when all else on your body is reasonably groomed, why would you expose the masses to your personal horror show? Maybe it is just a general degeneration of decency. All I can hope for is about 12 inches of snow to get all of those gruesome tooties packed back into their woolie prisons. SHUDDER!