We all know it's stupid to text and drive. That's a given people. Too many people have lost their lives...I won't even go into it because it's too depressing and I'm not one for mucking up the internet with what you should and shouldn't do while driving. If you don't know by now, you're an idiot.
However, there are some things you would never have guessed would be a problem to do while texting. My pet peeve is people who text at the dinner table (ahem...my daughter) or people who, directly in the middle of a conversation with me, will take out their phone to answer a text and still try to hold a conversation with me. They believe that I think they are listening. Yeah...mmmm...no.
Off my soap box now. I'm a texter. Sometimes, out of necessity, even at the dinner table, or at the very least to message my kids and call them down to dinner. Hey, I'm lazy, I admit it that as well. I also text at work when I can just as easily pick up the phone and call, or the once popular but now almost as ancient as actually talking to someone, E-mail.
It used to turn me off when I would hear people on their cell phone in a public bathroom stall, I mean...come on? Seriously? That conversation couldn't wait? When I am at home, however, this rule can and will be bent. After all, I am only human.
So yesterday, while in the midst of a text chat with my dear friend Cathy, starting with me reminding her that she was soon to be the mother of an 18 year old and how did that feel, ha ha, rub rub (even though I shall suffer the same fate in less that two months) I had to go ... for lack of a better word...pee. So I took my phone with me. What? This is MY blog!!!
Anyway, it was then that I realized that I needed "feminine" supplies and there were none in my bathroom cabinet. So, I already had my phone out, I texted my daughter quickly and asked her to bring me some. I didn't merely just ask...I told her WHY I couldn't come get them myself. Without realizing that I was actually still in the chat with my friend, I hit send, realizing too late that I had basically just asked her to drive 20 miles from her house to bring me a feminine napkin. Oy!
Easy fix...we LOL'd and TMI'd through text while I quickly copied the original request, pasted it into a new text and properly sent this to my daughter. No harm, no foul, right?
Yeah....Burch Luck, remember? Fast foward to this morning, my FAVORITE radio station, Candy95 holds this contest where you can win "TWIFECTA" tickets (tickets to see Twilight, New Moon, then Eclipse all on the same night at the movie theater on the night that Eclipse comes out - hey - it was for my daughter!). Typically, what I do is pull over (because it's UNSAFE to text while driving) and text the KEY WORD to their number then copy and paste the text and resend repeatedly until I get the message that they already have a winner (because I have Burch Luck and never actually win - but hey, it's always fun to play). Apparently, my text happy fingers didn't quite copy today's key word (FORKS) and I instead pasted my text about needing feminine supplies....TO THE RADIO DJ's - Frito and Alli!! OMG! I'm sure they didn't see it, since they typically get 1500 texts in the first 20 seconds, but I certainly saw it and immediately turned 3 shades of red and elected not to participate in today's contest in order to not draw further embarassment to myself.
Toilet Texting.....who knew?!?!
Burch Luck, or Shanks Luck, or As Luck Would Have it. One of those journals that starts out as one thing and turns out to be just random, ramblings. Yeah, a BLOG.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Summer Weed Eating
Summer is almost here and so is the dreaded swimsuit season. Not that I readily jump into a swimsuit, at least not in front of other human beings; but as we are planning on getting a pool this summer (nothing fancy, just something for the kids to do during the day) I'm sure I'll likely go with something.
That being said, the first thing I think about when selecting a swimsuit, or contemplating actually wearing one, is the dreaded 'bikini line' and the gnarly razor bumps most people get from shaving.
So, this year I decided to forgo my trusty regular bic razor for these nifty little wax strips; a sort of DIY grooming product, and at a much lower cost than paying someone to get down there, which is not up my alley, pardon the pun. If you have never seen this product, it's a box of a dozen plastic strips with a thin coating of wax which you simply apply in the areas in which you would like to remove unwanted hair folicles. You press it on, let it warm to your skin, then remove it quickly for perfect hair removal. Or so one would think. This is a Burch Luck story though. If you consider yourself a prude, you probably don't want to read on.
The day I decided to perform this "bikini line ritual", I thought I would also take a nice relaxing bath in the whirl pool tub, complete with classical music, several well placed scented candles and a glass of wine (yes...I'm still allergic to alcohol....but sometimes, a little wine can be soothing...until the itching starts...but that's another Burch Luck story).
The water was running in the tub, the candles were lit and a nice, soothing Enya CD was serving as my 'project' background music. I strategically laid out the wax strips as well as the other necessary supplies (included in the kit) which includes a ridiculously small bottle of oil (for excess wax removal) and VERY CAREFULLY read the directions. Twice. You can't be too careful in this area, don't ya know?
I followed these carefully read directions, placed the first wax strip in the bikini area and rubbed it in a little (IT'S IN THE DIRECTIONS PEOPLE!!!) to warm the wax so that it could adhere to, well, whatever. Anyway, I let it sit for the recommended 2-3 minutes, held my thigh skin taut with one hand, grabbed the wax strip with the other and ripped away!
Yeah...ouch.
I looked at the strip in my hand and realized that, aside from some of the wax, there was nothing on the little strip. WTH?! Why the pain the then? I tried to put the strip into the trash so I could tend to my throbbing nether region, and then realized that it was stuck to my fingers with what little wax remained on it. I attempted to peel it away with my wax free hand. Yeah...now both hands had wax and were sticking to everything. I did manage to fling the strip, but it went flying and despite my best efforts, I was unable to find it; and anyway, I knew I needed to remove whatever wax was still on the bikini line. That's when I had the sudden realization that the wax was still on the bikini line and had very nicely attached itself to, well my thigh and my bikini line; they were adhered together very nicely. I tried peeling it away, but my fingers were just managing to stick more wax to me and, as you might imagine, it hurt like the dickens.
So, I realized I would have to use the aforementioned oil. Again, it is a ridiculously small bottle resembling one of those perfume sample bottles. I held it with one hand, removed the lid with the other and then realized the the bottle was waxed to one hand and the lid was waxed to the other. *Sigh* Burch luck, right? Wait, it gets better. Or worse, depending on how you look at it.
After numerous attempts to 'knock' the lid from my finger tips by scraping it on the faucet, I was finally able to disengage it and watched helplessly as it went down the drain. I figured I'd leave the oil stuck in my hand as I applied it, however, I foolishly felt that I would need something to 'apply' the oil to all wax infected areas, so I stepped over to grab some toilet paper, realizing, too late of course, that I now had toilet paper stuck to my fingers, but hey, that's what the oil is for, right? Using the toilet paper, I applied the oil...on the oil container to get it off my fingers then tossed the t-paper aside (successfully - woo hoo) so I could attend to the, by now, very sticky wax down below. It took the whole bottle of oil to clear the area and at least 90% of the unwanted bikini line still remained. You would think this fiasco ended here, but this is a Burch Luck story.
If you will recall, the water was still running for my bath, but as it was to my back plus with the nice Enya music, and 'other activities' I actually forgot about the bath. The water didn't run over or anything...it's a big tub...though that would have been comical, right?! I did have to make a mad dash to turn it off though, and that's when I realized I had found the wax strip I had previously flung...it was sticking to the bottom of my foot and as I took a step, it picked up a strip of toilet paper and as I leaned over to turn off the water and then lifted my foot to begin more wax removal, the trailing strip of toilet paper caught on one of my candles. Even though one might expect toilet paper to be non-flammable, that is actually not the case. It can burn pretty quickly, if it's the cheap kind (and if you know my husband, you know that, of course, we have the generic, made from recycled sandpaper brand). So, I did what any normal human being with flaming hot toilet paper waxed to their person would do. I plunged my foot into the tub, wax, paper, flames and all.
Yeah. So much for a nice relaxing bath; and the self waxing job? Left a strip of bruised and broken skin that covered twice the area of my bikini line. Luckily; I did this in March, before it was actually time to wear a bathing suit.
Bikini line, healing nicely. My pride...not so much.
That being said, the first thing I think about when selecting a swimsuit, or contemplating actually wearing one, is the dreaded 'bikini line' and the gnarly razor bumps most people get from shaving.
So, this year I decided to forgo my trusty regular bic razor for these nifty little wax strips; a sort of DIY grooming product, and at a much lower cost than paying someone to get down there, which is not up my alley, pardon the pun. If you have never seen this product, it's a box of a dozen plastic strips with a thin coating of wax which you simply apply in the areas in which you would like to remove unwanted hair folicles. You press it on, let it warm to your skin, then remove it quickly for perfect hair removal. Or so one would think. This is a Burch Luck story though. If you consider yourself a prude, you probably don't want to read on.
The day I decided to perform this "bikini line ritual", I thought I would also take a nice relaxing bath in the whirl pool tub, complete with classical music, several well placed scented candles and a glass of wine (yes...I'm still allergic to alcohol....but sometimes, a little wine can be soothing...until the itching starts...but that's another Burch Luck story).
The water was running in the tub, the candles were lit and a nice, soothing Enya CD was serving as my 'project' background music. I strategically laid out the wax strips as well as the other necessary supplies (included in the kit) which includes a ridiculously small bottle of oil (for excess wax removal) and VERY CAREFULLY read the directions. Twice. You can't be too careful in this area, don't ya know?
I followed these carefully read directions, placed the first wax strip in the bikini area and rubbed it in a little (IT'S IN THE DIRECTIONS PEOPLE!!!) to warm the wax so that it could adhere to, well, whatever. Anyway, I let it sit for the recommended 2-3 minutes, held my thigh skin taut with one hand, grabbed the wax strip with the other and ripped away!
Yeah...ouch.
I looked at the strip in my hand and realized that, aside from some of the wax, there was nothing on the little strip. WTH?! Why the pain the then? I tried to put the strip into the trash so I could tend to my throbbing nether region, and then realized that it was stuck to my fingers with what little wax remained on it. I attempted to peel it away with my wax free hand. Yeah...now both hands had wax and were sticking to everything. I did manage to fling the strip, but it went flying and despite my best efforts, I was unable to find it; and anyway, I knew I needed to remove whatever wax was still on the bikini line. That's when I had the sudden realization that the wax was still on the bikini line and had very nicely attached itself to, well my thigh and my bikini line; they were adhered together very nicely. I tried peeling it away, but my fingers were just managing to stick more wax to me and, as you might imagine, it hurt like the dickens.
So, I realized I would have to use the aforementioned oil. Again, it is a ridiculously small bottle resembling one of those perfume sample bottles. I held it with one hand, removed the lid with the other and then realized the the bottle was waxed to one hand and the lid was waxed to the other. *Sigh* Burch luck, right? Wait, it gets better. Or worse, depending on how you look at it.
After numerous attempts to 'knock' the lid from my finger tips by scraping it on the faucet, I was finally able to disengage it and watched helplessly as it went down the drain. I figured I'd leave the oil stuck in my hand as I applied it, however, I foolishly felt that I would need something to 'apply' the oil to all wax infected areas, so I stepped over to grab some toilet paper, realizing, too late of course, that I now had toilet paper stuck to my fingers, but hey, that's what the oil is for, right? Using the toilet paper, I applied the oil...on the oil container to get it off my fingers then tossed the t-paper aside (successfully - woo hoo) so I could attend to the, by now, very sticky wax down below. It took the whole bottle of oil to clear the area and at least 90% of the unwanted bikini line still remained. You would think this fiasco ended here, but this is a Burch Luck story.
If you will recall, the water was still running for my bath, but as it was to my back plus with the nice Enya music, and 'other activities' I actually forgot about the bath. The water didn't run over or anything...it's a big tub...though that would have been comical, right?! I did have to make a mad dash to turn it off though, and that's when I realized I had found the wax strip I had previously flung...it was sticking to the bottom of my foot and as I took a step, it picked up a strip of toilet paper and as I leaned over to turn off the water and then lifted my foot to begin more wax removal, the trailing strip of toilet paper caught on one of my candles. Even though one might expect toilet paper to be non-flammable, that is actually not the case. It can burn pretty quickly, if it's the cheap kind (and if you know my husband, you know that, of course, we have the generic, made from recycled sandpaper brand). So, I did what any normal human being with flaming hot toilet paper waxed to their person would do. I plunged my foot into the tub, wax, paper, flames and all.
Yeah. So much for a nice relaxing bath; and the self waxing job? Left a strip of bruised and broken skin that covered twice the area of my bikini line. Luckily; I did this in March, before it was actually time to wear a bathing suit.
Bikini line, healing nicely. My pride...not so much.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Oh When The Saints....go Marching in....
Let's hope the Colts come marching right back! Most people close to me know that I'm a HUGE Peyton Manning fan. I'm a Twitterer by nature, as well as blogger, so I'm sure I'll be pecking out a steady stream of tweets this coming Sunday as I watch "my man" work his tail off because the Colts defense undoubtedly hasn't improved in the last few weeks. So, textually speaking, look for me during the Super Bowl; that is, if you plan to be a part of the 100 million viewers.
And, if it's commercials that you watch for, and I admit, that's a big draw for me as well as #18 in tight football pants, it's lookign like some Facebook Marketing is going to see some air time. Can't wait to see what they have planned for us this year!
So, yeah...this is short - but I may have LOTS to discuss after tonight's premiere of Lost! Can't wait to see me some Sawyer!!!
And, if it's commercials that you watch for, and I admit, that's a big draw for me as well as #18 in tight football pants, it's lookign like some Facebook Marketing is going to see some air time. Can't wait to see what they have planned for us this year!
So, yeah...this is short - but I may have LOTS to discuss after tonight's premiere of Lost! Can't wait to see me some Sawyer!!!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Pick Me! Pick Me!
So yeah, I have prepared my application to the Marethouse/Candy95 Fitness Challenge. I'll be dropping it off tonight right before I go to dinner with Alan at Sodalak's steakhouse, where I plan to have chicken fried steak and gravy. An exercise in irony? Or irony in exercise?
Up until lately, I have always thought that I was too terrible of a driver to ever worry about cholesterol or obesity killing me. But, as I have gotten older, I have realized that some things are worth getting healthier for. Two of those things are my children. Even though there is not a day that goes by that I don't want to strangle one, or both of them, I still love them and want to be healthy enough to see them become real people.
That's why I decided to enter this contest. It's not about losing weight or eating right (I mean yeah...there is that). It's about being healthy; living a longer and fuller life. Hell, I had to send a picture in with my application and it was an aerial photograph! If I ever went missing, they'd have to use all four sides of the milk carton for my picture!
All kidding aside, if I win....I will make my faithful readers proud. I will lose weight, I will get healthy and I will change my life. Maybe change yours too, who knows? I might even develop more than a casual relationship with my toes and be able to touch them one day - rather than just wave from a distance. Pray for me folks. And if I am not chosen, pray for me anyway....but pray harder for the people who do get chosen. Chances are, they need more help than I do and stand to gain a lot in return. Anyone that needs help more than me....also needs more prayers!
Piece O'Pie Out!
Up until lately, I have always thought that I was too terrible of a driver to ever worry about cholesterol or obesity killing me. But, as I have gotten older, I have realized that some things are worth getting healthier for. Two of those things are my children. Even though there is not a day that goes by that I don't want to strangle one, or both of them, I still love them and want to be healthy enough to see them become real people.
That's why I decided to enter this contest. It's not about losing weight or eating right (I mean yeah...there is that). It's about being healthy; living a longer and fuller life. Hell, I had to send a picture in with my application and it was an aerial photograph! If I ever went missing, they'd have to use all four sides of the milk carton for my picture!
All kidding aside, if I win....I will make my faithful readers proud. I will lose weight, I will get healthy and I will change my life. Maybe change yours too, who knows? I might even develop more than a casual relationship with my toes and be able to touch them one day - rather than just wave from a distance. Pray for me folks. And if I am not chosen, pray for me anyway....but pray harder for the people who do get chosen. Chances are, they need more help than I do and stand to gain a lot in return. Anyone that needs help more than me....also needs more prayers!
Piece O'Pie Out!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
My Doctor Hates Me
So, I had a checkup today, complete with the results from the blood work-up that I had last week. Since February, my cholesterol has jumped 18 points and my blood glucose (blood sugar) has gone up 41 points (almost to the "We'll need to check this weekly for a while to see if you need insulin" numbers). Not to mention I'm 8 lbs up (I was already up 30 lbs since being the MOST pregnant with my baby (who will turn 15 yrs old this month)from the last time I went to the doctor (which was only May) Oy! Turning 40 sure has played some nasty tricks on me! Of course, I have been overweight for the last 15 years, so age, for me has absolutely nothing to do with it.
Food, on the otherhand, has everything and then some, to blame! Why God, Why must you punish me for liking Dr. Pepper? And cheese (on top of pizza and burgers and baked potatoes with bacon)? Is it so bad that the most exercise my body ever suffers through is the walking that I MUST endure to get from my vehicle into whatever building I'm headed? Or to the refrigerator?
Well...no more my friends. I have entered a contest with Candy 95, and whether I'm chosen for the fitness challenge or not, my ordeal with the fight against hunger (mine) is going to be chronicled on this here blog. If you read it to begin with, you have suffered through my other ordeals, and you'll get through this just fine - I promise.
Food, on the otherhand, has everything and then some, to blame! Why God, Why must you punish me for liking Dr. Pepper? And cheese (on top of pizza and burgers and baked potatoes with bacon)? Is it so bad that the most exercise my body ever suffers through is the walking that I MUST endure to get from my vehicle into whatever building I'm headed? Or to the refrigerator?
Well...no more my friends. I have entered a contest with Candy 95, and whether I'm chosen for the fitness challenge or not, my ordeal with the fight against hunger (mine) is going to be chronicled on this here blog. If you read it to begin with, you have suffered through my other ordeals, and you'll get through this just fine - I promise.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
House of Blues - Nothing Personal....
Yesterday, I did something way out of the ordinary for me. I took a vacation day and I tested the age limits of attending a rock/pop concert. It wasn't just an ordinary vacation day either; this was the kind of day where I took my 14 yr old daughter Austyn out of school and joined my friend Ginger and daughter Kelsey on a one day outing to Houston where we spent the entire day at the House of Blues! Oy Vey - what a long day!
All this was so that our daughters could see some of their favorite bands and meet some of the band members. And I use the term "our daughters" lightly as Ginger is a HUGE fan of these kids too! I was the only person asking on the way to Houston "Now, who are we seeing again?"
It was the All Time Low on their Glamour Kills tour. I don't really know if Glamour is the noun I would have chosen, but 40 is kind of old to be rocking out to 20 something musician's...but I digress; I didn't know any of the bands but I had heard their music before. Just ask my kids: I think everyone is either "The Fray" or "Creed" or whoever it actually ISN'T. Not sure what kind of music I would classify as MY genre, but I'm sure there isn't a group alive (alive being the key word here) that would make me want to remove my bra and throw it on a stage full of skinny emo punks wearing girl jeans and looking like they moussed their hair and then stood sideways in front of a very powerful wind machine. However, I have to admit that I am actually hooked on two of these groups; and I wasn't even drinking or smoking anything! It's punk/pop/emo crap (not the screamin emo - that's just not music); but it was still the kind that had my ears ringing well after the concert ended. As long as a person can sing well, they have my vote! After that.... the music either falls into place or it doesn't. Sometimes, it really depends on the lyrics, and I seriously doubt that any of these guys will be exemplars of performing into their golden years.
The concert started with Friday Night Boys who were weird enough, but had some good musical talent. Then it was Hey Monday, whom my daughter and her friend met inside the House of Blues Restaurant earlier in the day. Nice kids. And I'm serious when I say kids - these guys are REALLY young! But any pop star who will take the time from their lunch and pose for pictures and give autographs to their star crazed fans get an A+ in my book.
The third group was We The Kings and Kelsey (Austyn's friend and musical guru confidant) had Meet and Greet tickets for these fellas. Austyn and Kelsey were the only two in the meet and greet but Ginger and I still couldn't persuade the girls to say "Hey, can our mom's come in too?" I mean...what's up with that? Don't want to be seen with your mom's at a concert venue?? Touche'! Regardless - I think this is the group that I liked the best, but the actual headliner for this MUCH TOO LONG concert was All Time Low. Lead singer was a cutie, but these guys are much too young for me. All I know is I stood up from my barstool quicker than I ever typically get into a standing position when that concert ended. And whomever threw their triple D bra onstage (mind you, this was one of MANY BRA'S thrown up there)....Heaven Help Us!!!
I will say this: EVERYTHING is funny at Denny's at 12:00 a.m. after a loud concert when your ears are ringing and you feel like you have to yell to the people at the table. I mean...EVERYTHING!
"I think this fork is sticky too...." Uh....maybe your hands are sticky....
Yep - one of those had to be there moments....
All this was so that our daughters could see some of their favorite bands and meet some of the band members. And I use the term "our daughters" lightly as Ginger is a HUGE fan of these kids too! I was the only person asking on the way to Houston "Now, who are we seeing again?"
It was the All Time Low on their Glamour Kills tour. I don't really know if Glamour is the noun I would have chosen, but 40 is kind of old to be rocking out to 20 something musician's...but I digress; I didn't know any of the bands but I had heard their music before. Just ask my kids: I think everyone is either "The Fray" or "Creed" or whoever it actually ISN'T. Not sure what kind of music I would classify as MY genre, but I'm sure there isn't a group alive (alive being the key word here) that would make me want to remove my bra and throw it on a stage full of skinny emo punks wearing girl jeans and looking like they moussed their hair and then stood sideways in front of a very powerful wind machine. However, I have to admit that I am actually hooked on two of these groups; and I wasn't even drinking or smoking anything! It's punk/pop/emo crap (not the screamin emo - that's just not music); but it was still the kind that had my ears ringing well after the concert ended. As long as a person can sing well, they have my vote! After that.... the music either falls into place or it doesn't. Sometimes, it really depends on the lyrics, and I seriously doubt that any of these guys will be exemplars of performing into their golden years.
The concert started with Friday Night Boys who were weird enough, but had some good musical talent. Then it was Hey Monday, whom my daughter and her friend met inside the House of Blues Restaurant earlier in the day. Nice kids. And I'm serious when I say kids - these guys are REALLY young! But any pop star who will take the time from their lunch and pose for pictures and give autographs to their star crazed fans get an A+ in my book.
The third group was We The Kings and Kelsey (Austyn's friend and musical guru confidant) had Meet and Greet tickets for these fellas. Austyn and Kelsey were the only two in the meet and greet but Ginger and I still couldn't persuade the girls to say "Hey, can our mom's come in too?" I mean...what's up with that? Don't want to be seen with your mom's at a concert venue?? Touche'! Regardless - I think this is the group that I liked the best, but the actual headliner for this MUCH TOO LONG concert was All Time Low. Lead singer was a cutie, but these guys are much too young for me. All I know is I stood up from my barstool quicker than I ever typically get into a standing position when that concert ended. And whomever threw their triple D bra onstage (mind you, this was one of MANY BRA'S thrown up there)....Heaven Help Us!!!
I will say this: EVERYTHING is funny at Denny's at 12:00 a.m. after a loud concert when your ears are ringing and you feel like you have to yell to the people at the table. I mean...EVERYTHING!
"I think this fork is sticky too...." Uh....maybe your hands are sticky....
Yep - one of those had to be there moments....
Friday, October 2, 2009
No Room for more than one Enemy
Who would have thought that I would be 40 years old before anyone ever said anything to me that made me want to cut ties with them forever? And I should perhaps forewarn my faithful four readers, that I question even posting this at all because it's not even remotely my style. But since there is always the possibility of me throwing a completely unvarnished thought out there (yeah, me!?), what the heck. I'll take sweet revenge if that's what it amounts to.
It is unfortunate that there are no clear cut warning signs to help us avoid negative people; those toxic friends that complicate your life without you even realizing it until it's too late and you find yourself shedding tears because of someone who so obviously could care less and take obvious joy in your emotional pains.
Confession: I don't care either. I have absolutely no interest in getting into a friendship breakup fight. Especially one that coats the vitriol even thicker and just makes me feel worse. The best way to get the toxicity out of your life is to get rid of the toxin; the sooner the better!
True, I may have wasted some precious time and much needed energy trying to help this person or just in talking to them and maybe even caring what they thought. But I'm not the one that put the "end" in "Friendship" darlings.
Burch luck of the good kind (yeah...there is some I figure) is discovering that the thorn in your side can easily be removed without having to shed more bitter tears. I (and I alone) shall retain the position of my own worst enemy! No room for two!
It is unfortunate that there are no clear cut warning signs to help us avoid negative people; those toxic friends that complicate your life without you even realizing it until it's too late and you find yourself shedding tears because of someone who so obviously could care less and take obvious joy in your emotional pains.
Confession: I don't care either. I have absolutely no interest in getting into a friendship breakup fight. Especially one that coats the vitriol even thicker and just makes me feel worse. The best way to get the toxicity out of your life is to get rid of the toxin; the sooner the better!
True, I may have wasted some precious time and much needed energy trying to help this person or just in talking to them and maybe even caring what they thought. But I'm not the one that put the "end" in "Friendship" darlings.
Burch luck of the good kind (yeah...there is some I figure) is discovering that the thorn in your side can easily be removed without having to shed more bitter tears. I (and I alone) shall retain the position of my own worst enemy! No room for two!
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