Self Checkout

Allow me to preface this: If you are slow in any way, shape or form… then just be patient and wait in the lines where their is a cashier to set you on your way.

Today middle and I were at the market, grabbing just three items when I noticed the self checkout lines were deep into the aisles. Knowing that there was a separate lane on the other side of the market, we quickly ran to there.

Unfortunately for me, an elderly lady who was also vying for the lane, stumbled upon it a quick second before. And being elderly she was too consumed with her entire cart full of food to notice that I was only carrying three tiny items that would not take as long- where is the xx humanity??

So, I looked at the next lane which was also self checkout and there was a younger, older woman… but I could see that she also had a lot of items and was also constantly ringing the bell for help.

I told my daughter to stand behind her and I stood behind the older lady and whomever finished first… that’s the line I would use.

Now, many thoughts ran through my head as I watched geri try to scan her items one by one… with one hand… and then with the same one hand, she would place it in the bagging area. Not two hands… no, she used ONE HAND AND EACH SCAN WAS SLOW AND DELIBERATE.

So much so that I actually contemplated jail time from watching the painstakingly slow women not know how to use the effing scanner!!

I kept calling over the divider to my daughter to ask if her lady was almost done and she couldn’t even speak! She, too was equally frustrated by the delicate manner in which those two women tried to find the fucking barcodes on each package of food.

Unfortunately, I really lost it when I saw my woman had a stickerless zucchini.

Me: You shouldn’t be in this aisle with your size cart! You cannot just whimsically scan your items when this is supposed to be a fast lane!!!!!

Needless to say, I am still rattled.

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Check One, Two, Three?

The other day I took my middle to open her very own bank account. When we were rushing out the door, I purposely left my purse home since I had in hand what I needed.

When we arrived at the empty bank we were escorted to Brian’s cubicle.

Brian: Hello, I am the senior relations investor, what can I do for you today?

Me: We are here to open an account.

Brian: (looks at middle) Wow, that’s great!

Middle: Thanks.

Me: She has money to deposit so I’d like to open the same account I did for my other child.

Brian: Okay, well, first I’m going to need some forms of ID.

Me: (pushes forth her original birth certificate and social security card)

Brian: (looks at me disappointed) I’m going to just call my branch supervisor…

So, middle and I are waiting… we are counting her stubs to make sure we have all our ducks in a row… when I hear Brian say this:

Brian: (on phone) Uh-huh. Okay… So we are going to need something else…

Me: (whispers to middle) What could they possibly need? Your virginity!

Middle: MOM!

Needless to say, I had to call my sister to bring me a third form of ID… the same one photographed on my phone that was “no good.”

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Wedding Reels

The other evening I got caught in the trap of watching Insta wedding reels. Apparently it seems as if you watch one… more will show up (…or, that’s how it works and I’m just special.) In any event, I was watching videos of the grooms’ reactions when the door of their churches open and they see their beloved.

A few things to mention…

I am guessing the two wedding did not see each other for more than 24 hours given the dramatic reactions the men had… or they just really loved the person walking towards them.

All of these men were just gorgeous- poo poo poo gorgeous.

Lastly, every single man cried, almost uncontrollably or they had the “shocked” look/cry of wow… she’s beautiful, I can’t believe how lucky I am.

Rewind 17 years to when hubby first saw me… not a tear was shed, no look of wow, or omg! Perhaps I could attribute it to the long week leading up to our nuptials, given the pre-divorce who gets what conversations the eve of?

Regardless, no tears were shed upon seeing me and now I’m annoyed.

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Alexa & Siri

Throughout the house, one can hear either hubby or me calling out commands on our devices. So much so, that sometimes I accidentally call out to the wrong device like one calls the wrong child.

Here is a perfect example of what we do when preparing for sleep.

Hubby: Alexa, turn on noise machine.

Me: Alexa, turn off foyer lights.

Hubby: Alexa, turn on Rochelle lamp.

Me: Hey Siri, set alarm for 10:30 am.

Hubby: Alexa, set alarm for 8:00 am.

Me: Hey Siri, send a message to Kid 1…

Siri: What would you like to send?

Me: Goodnight honey! Set your alarm.

Kid 1: Would you stop using Alexa for everything!

Me: Just wanted to say goodnight.

Me: Alexa, perform your wifely duties.

…One could ask.

In any event, I am waiting for Alexa to answer, do it your fucking selves or kill us in our sleep.

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Bar Mitzvah Check List

Socks- done.


Montage- 99% done; need some photos from now til March.

Centerpieces- Ordered.

Kippot- done.

Sign in board- done.




Photo shoot- Next week!

Swag- All me!

Invites- Working on them

List- Just need son’s.

Hotel Block- Not yet.

Rochelle, isn’t his Bar in May of next year?

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Today I Took The Blanket

Normally when I have these dreaded MRIs, I am offered a heated blanket but always decline. Now, a heated blanket sounds delicious almost all of the time… unless you are being placed in a deep tomb for 45 minutes+.

In fact, there are times I would start off with just my robe… squeeze the ball to get out and then semi disrobe so that I could feel some air.

But today, for some reason, I was feeling brave and I said, “sure” when offered the blanket.

And, being the big girl that I am growing up to be (physically I am in my 80s) I didn’t kick it off the entire time.

Now maybe next time, I won’t need to take a bottle of Ativan just to get into the machine.

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Port Rochelle

Today while getting the lowdown on how to wear the robe, yada yada… the young man- I take that back. Ever since I’ve been told a number for my son’s height, I’ve been seeing more and more mid…little people. Kinda like when one is pregnant, they see all pregnant women. Well, as of late, all I see are petite monsieurs.

Anyhow, while the tech was reading me my MRI rights, he started in with “do you have metal… piercings…. ” and my answers have always been “straight no’s for everything.”

Well today, I was supposed to remind them of my port… and I was too busy planning which station I was going to listen to (classical; was tired of Disney, not in mood for Christmas and had enough of Sinatra), that I forgot.

Tech: Now, it says you have a port.

Me: (awakening) YES! I DO!!

Tech: Would you like me to access it during the MRI?

and what I almost said was…. Judy’s my port bitch! Instead, I gave him my F.NO look while placing my arm out for the IV.

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Downtown Beirut

I spent three days at Nordstrom Rack and I haven’t been able to get out of bed since. The mere exhaustion from rummaging through their exploding racks to find a matching anything.

Sure, they have some rare finds… if you an actually do find something, but most of their textiles are placed in random areas of the warehouse like shrapnel from a bomb. I combed like lice through rack after rack trying to find clothes for my mom.. and I went there as oppose to TJ Maxx, thinking: Nordstroms/Rack… same thing.

Well it isn’t and who knew that the offense goes to TJ? Never in my life have I felt so low in the barrel, sifting through items, rack after rack after rack… and then standing in some farfakt line.

Worse, my daughter who came for two of the three adventures since she prefers to be with me said, “Naw, I’ll hang back from now on.”

In any event, I did find some nice pieces and even though a few things are too this or that, I told my mother I would rather throw them out than go back another time to exchange or return.

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Top Five Sayings On The Board

School Edition

5. How about you go through your trash files and see what I’ve sent five times for the past month!

4. There’s not a member of the staff that doesn’t know your child’s dismissal plan .

3. There’s another one coming up the pipeline.

2. Apple: Tree

1. I’ll never make it to retirement.

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Sheitel Manedela

Well, I like the wig I chose and while its a little more ashier than my own, it still matches my hair color nicely.

I decided to go with the full wig which is where I have to pull out the very front pieces of my hair and mish it with the wig’s hair. I have all the tools I need to naturally blend the front and I must say, I could look ready to go on the town in minutes.

I’d say that’s the best thing about the wig… I am basically like Wonder Woman. I just spin off the clothes I am wearing, change and put the wig on ready in a splash.

Also, I do enjoy having a full head of hair again versus the mullet I’m slowly getting day by day from hair breakage.

So, I highly recommend!

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