random x 400

Posted by random olio

400 posts. I can hardly believe it. When I started this blog back in January 2012 I had no idea I would last this long. Looking back I cannot believe that I have randomly blabbed on about 400 different topics. Okay so maybe some of them are similar. My family, childhood, money, my favorite husband, funny videos, women’s issues, the occasional political post. That is why I still love the name of this blog. My posts are random. I write about whatever inspires, infuriates, makes me laugh. The randomest of things come out of my finger tips.

I often only have a glimmer of an idea when I sit down with my laptop and let my thoughts flow. There are times when a blog idea formulates in my thought and I sit down and start typing, never knowing how it will finish, or how long it will take. Sometimes it all comes out fast and furious in a matter of minutes and other blogs never feel exactly right. Sometimes I will write a post and it remains in draft form for weeks or months and some I eventually delete because they never feel right or salvageable.

I hope that in the process of my diatribes and babbles I have inspired, made you think, and made you laugh. There are days when I wonder why I still blog, when I wonder if it matters that I write any more. It is usually on those days when I doubt myself, my writing, and my random topics that I get an email or a comment from someone who says my blog that very day touched their heart, or was just the idea they needed that day. So you, my friends, are the reason I continue to blog. I do not write for anyone specific. I write because it comes out of me so passionately. I write because I do not know how I could keep it all in. This blog is therapy for me. It is a connection to so many individuals I have corresponded with and inspiration for what other ideas will continue to pour out of my fingertips and onto this MacBook Air.

Thank you to everyone who has read and continues to read this blog. You are appreciated and are an inspiration to me. I only hope I continue to inspire through random olio.

“Dear Girls Above Me”

Posted by random olio

How many times in your life have you lived in an apartment and overheard the tenants lIving above, below, or next to you? My response? Too often. As frustrating as it can sometimes be, I probably have been the culprit of other tenants wanting to scream, “Shut up, you are too loud!” It is life in much of the rental world. And yet, Charlie McDowell wittingly shares the drama and laughs, of overhearing the dimwitted interactions of the two girls that live above him in “Dear Girls Above Me.”

His book intersperses his life, recent break-up, frustration, then intrigue with his upstairs neighbors, mixed with actual comments he hears from upstairs, rolled up with interactions with his roommate and landlord. I chuckled, rolled my eyes, and laughed some more. A clever book and definite must read. I included a few of my favorites here:

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘If that bitch talks shit about me one more time, I’m gonna wear a white dress to her wedding.’ Men use fists, women use fabric.” page 27

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘Did you hear that all these kids were rescued in Chile after being trapped in some mountain?’ Miners, not minors.” page 142

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘If a car is out of gas, can you fart into it to make it drive?’ Meet you in the parking lot in 10.” page 142

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘Eww Cathy. Was that a regular fart or did you just Queefer Sutherland?’ You have 24 hours to never say that again.” page 263

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘Well if you still have diarrhea tomorrow we need to get you some of that ex-lax stuff.’ Putting out the fire with gasoline, huh?” page 264

“Dear Girls Above Me, (regarding her loud fart) ‘Exactly why I’ll never move in with a guy. Who wants to give that up?’ I guess I’m the lucky one then.” page 264

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘In getting colonics, we basically paid 75 dollars to take the biggest shits of our lives.’ Ha, mine was only 7.99 at Chili’s.” page 264

What are some of the things you have heard through the walls that were ironic or made you laugh?

Farting on an airplane?

Posted by random olio

Come on, you know that either you are a victim of the airplane fart, or you were the one that wounded everyone. I have had this article saved in a blog draft for months now, and I just found it. I think at the time that I found this article I thought why would anyone want to read about farting on an airplane? Recently I was on a flight with Chris and while waiting for other passengers to board the plane we smelled the most horrifying body odor. I wanted to gag, or maybe I started to gag. I looked over at Chris and he looked ill. Eventually the passenger continued to walk to the back of the plane and we were saved.

The ironic part about the body odor is that the man who came to sit in the seat next to me leans over and says, “I am so sorry about my body odor. I have been camping in Mexico and I have not showered in days.” The thing was, he did not smell that bad. I will tell you, I might have horrible hearing and eyesight, but the one thing God gave me that fully functions is my nose. My smeller is attuned and always on high alert. This guy did not smell that bad. I told him so. I thought to myself, what amazing self-awareness to alert me. I appreciated his bluntness and if he was going to be so blunt I thought, why not respond in kind? So I lean over to him and say: “You do not stink at all, you missed the guy that has the bad body odor.” He smiled and said, “Oh, good. I felt bad that I might.”

Which leads me to the actual topic of this blog: Flatulence on an airplane. You will want to read this article I just shared. For a little tidbit, it starts out with: “Flying increases flatulence.” How many times have you thought, seriously who did that? The smells and odors that willingly escape and waft through the heavy, hot, and stuffy air seem to linger, and slowly kill our nose hairs. And, yet, we probably have all had a bad day, a bad airport lunch, or got stuck with a crazy, uncomfortable stomach while turbulence has imprisoned us to our seats thanks to the fasten seatbelt sign.

I am not going to lie. Chris has berated me for such misdemeanors. What can I say? Sometimes you cannot help it. Yes, I would rather be the guilty one, then the recipient.

You must be 16 years or older

Posted by random olio

Jump back in time to ten years ago. I am in an airport, preparing to board a plane. I do not remember which airport, but I know it was on the way back from my honeymoon. That tells you a bit of my age and state of mind. Legal to drive, legal to drink, relaxed, happy.

Chris goes up to the ticket counter to see if we can somehow get seats together in the emergency exit row. Due to his height, he always tries to secure emergency exit seats. He was not at all prepared for the comment that came next from the attendant at the check-in counter, who looks at me as I sit waiting with our luggage.

“Sir, your companion must be 16 years or older to sit in the exit row.” Shock. Confusion shows across Chris’ face. “My companion is my wife.” He points over to me. “She is definitely over 16 years old.” (And, no, I was not his child bride). At the time I was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, and a blue Patagonia winter cap. I have no idea why I was so overdressed, after all it was June. For some reason my outfit must have made the attendant think I was young. Chris comes back to where I was sitting, and has this grin on his face. I say to him, “Well, did you get your exit row seats just like you wanted?” He says back to me, “Yes, but the guy thought you were 16. I had to tell him that you were my wife, and that you were definitely old enough to handle an emergency exit.” Wow.

Yet, that same comment seems to follow me through life. Folks are shocked when they find out how old I really am. Or, they are shocked when they find out how many years of experience I had in the professional world. I suppose I should be grateful, because one day it might feel like the compliment of a lifetime.

“You must be 16 years or older to sit in the exit row.” Ha.

Addicted to cereal?

Posted by random olio

I was talking to someone the other day, and they mentioned a friend who was a cereal addict. I know there are definitely worse things to be addicted to, but it made me start to wonder how we get addicted to things. I, myself, have an addiction to salt, often in the form of chips. Give me salt any day over sugar. If you really want to make my day, give me a mixture of both, a little salt, then something sugary, back to salt, and so on.

But, back to the cereal addict. See I know what it is like to be a cereal addict. I live with one. The addict in him shows up often around 11 pm, just before bed. He is a midnight snack cereal user. The only other time the addict might be found is if he is still hungry after dinner. He is good though, mostly his guilty pleasure is for fairly healthy, only slightly sugary cereals. However, offer him a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and he is a goner. Yuck. Cap’n Crunch and Froot Loops leave this film and raw burn on the roof of your mouth.

Now that I am a serial green smoothie drinker, I no longer have cereal for breakfast. I am only known to steal a bite or two from the cereal midnight snacker. All I need is a bite to quench my craving for that sweet milky taste. I have friends who are cereal addicts. I have never asked them why cereal is their guilty pleasure. Now I am curious. A few years ago, we had the opportunity to visit and tour Pixar, and I had to remove my significant other from the “Cereal Bar.” The below video is one that gives a bit more detail about the Pixar Cereal Bar.