The Soup

I'm sure you've probably made soup before. Start with some basic ingredients (hamburger, vegetables, noodles, whatever) and then start adding small amounts of stuff, like spices or bullion or chopped things. Then you taste it. Then you add some more of the spices, or pull out some of the chopped things, once you remember that you don't like celery. You know. A soup.

This blog is going to be a soup. Some topics of substance, then some smaller, less important stuff, then some more small stuff, then whatever happens to be on my mind at the moment. Which could really be anything in the whole entire world. Who knows.

First, let's get some substance in our pot!

So, today I was shopping. So simple. So innocent. No. You're wrong. There's nothing innocent about it. It gets very hostile. Imagine a huge land with thousands of lions, and all the lions are she-lions with five cubs each, and there is only one antelope running for dear life, and all the she-lions are fighting each other to get to the antelope, to save themselves and their cubs. Well, guess what. Welcome to shopping. And if you want to factor sales and mark-downs into the equation, it's the same scenario, just imagine that the antelope is missing a leg.

Any woman will tell you that there are a very strict set of rules to abide by when shopping. Actually, they probably won't. We don't really speak of it. It's a woman thing. So I'm probably going to be found tomorrow floating face-down in a lake somewhere, and all the men are going to be like, "What happened here?" and all the women are going to be like, "Don't know. Don't care."

Anyway, there are rules. I won't give you the entire list. I've given you guys enough lists lately. Plus, maybe now the women of the world will have mercy upon my soul. The rule I'm going to talk about right now is also the the one I broke about an hour ago. The rule is, if you're looking at something in a store, and somebody comes up beside you, it's woman-speak for "Get your butt out of the way, sistah, I wanna look at that!" And it's pretty much expected that you're going to get outta the way.

So there I was. Looking at scarves and mittens and hats for winter (YAY!). And this lady, like 70 years old is following me from rack to rack, enforcing this rule. I would go somewhere and start looking at stuff, and she'd come right after me and start looking at what I was looking at. So I'd growl inside and move to the next rack. Ten seconds later, here she comes, suddenly so interested in what I was looking at. I was getting very irritated.

Finally, I moved to a rack of scarves and began to sift through the rabble, hoping to find a diamond in the rough. What? Who is this coming over? You're right; it's the rude old woman who gets her kicks by pushing young girls around at department stores.

No no no no no. I had actually found a scarf that I liked, and the rack held more possible buys. The woman came closer. No. I'm not going anywhere. If you're gonna abuse your power, you're gonna lose it, lady. She edged closer. I didn't move, just kept sifting through the scarves. She actually started feeling the very scarf I was looking at!

I turn my head to look at her, as she is almost hip-to-hip with me now, and it's beginning to get very uncomfortable. He smiles a little fake smile and says, "hi,". I'm sure she thought that was the end of it and I would move out of her way so she could follow me to the next rack. She looked at me expectantly. I smiled back at her, then turned back to the rack. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her giving me that incredulous look that says, "I can't believe you aren't giving me whatever I want! I am old and wonderful and waaay better than you."

Eventually she flounced away to find some other young girl to terrorize. I stayed at the scarf rack until I was done, finding two scarves worthwhile, as well as two pairs of mittens. Yay for winter!

A seasoning in the pot:

This morning I signed up for classes at SCC. I'm excited for school! Actually, I'm not really excited for school, I'm excited to graduate from school. And I guess before you graduate, you have to start. So I'm starting, so I can graduate in two years, and make money.

Another seasoning:

I've made a miraculous discovery! You know those people in the mall, who wait out in the middle of the aisle with a bottle of some sort of hair product in their hands? They scan the crowd, looking for girls who have long-ish hair and look like they have money to blow. Then, before you know it, they're ambushing you while you're on your way to your favorite store, asking if you've ever had a bad day EVER BEFORE IN YOUR LIFE, and promising that if you buy whatever crap they're selling, you'll never have another bad day, your boyfriend will ask you to marry him, you will be the most popular person in the world, and you will receive your very own pony. GUARANTEED!

Now, these guys drive me crazy. I avoid them like I avoid Bubonic Plague. And trust me, I DO avoid Bubonic Plague! But sometimes, you need to do more than avoid them. Sometimes, they seem to know where you are. They see you trying to slink past them unseen. They smell your fear. And they move in for the kill.

Never fear, ladies, Johanna knows your pain, and has found a solution! If you're on your phone, they won't bother you. It's true. And how are they to know if you're actually having a real conversation or talking to yourself INTO your cell phone? Oh yeah, they DON'T! So. Whenever you go past the scary, over-aggressive conditioner-sellers, just put your phone to your ear. You don't even have to speak. Even better, pretend you're angry at whoever you're talking to, and you're just hoping some random person will come up and say something to you so you can bite their head off. Trust me. Then, they will avoid YOU like Bubonic Plague! :)

And some more seasoning:

I love this weather. Just saying. After my last post, winter moved in. Did you notice that? Just think: light, fluffy snowflakes tinkling down from the sky, roaring fireplaces, crackling and popping as you sip hot apple cider and cuddle in blankets.

Please, like winter. Please. If I'm the only one having fun, it's no fun at all. :(

Okay. I'm out of spices for my soup. It's pretty tasty, I think, for a blog. I'm pretty sure it's got angel hair noodles, chicken, some of that green stuff that makes soup taste good (not celery)...pretty much I'm thinking of that chicken soup stuff that Nikki made after Dad had foot surgery. That's what this blog would taste like, if it were an actual soup. And for those of you who didn't have that soup, it was awesome, and you missed out. Just think of this blog as the most wonderful soup ever. Yum!