True Confession

Perhaps this belongs under the "my life is about embarrassment/humiliation" post but, it's late and I haven't blogged in ages. No homework to avoid...

Feeling I must give it the old college try I decided to give eharmony a whirl. Several years ago I did some lurking on the site just to see what kind of people were on there and registered myself as Mary. I don't know, is that the confession part? Anyway, a couple of months ago there was a $19.99 "special" which I thought I signed up for but I got charged $119 or something ridiculous so I called customer service. 

Yes, another customer service call with one of our friends on the south asian penninsula.  First I had to share that my email address was spongebob.67  "How do you spell that?" he asked.  Must I say it out loud again?? Then feeling I needed to make a clean breast of things I confessed my name was not Mary (which he had been calling me the entire time...)  "Your name is not Mary?"  I don't know how I create this in my life.

Because I know you're wondering, I think internet dating stinks. Shal-low.

Disclaimers:
1. I'm fascinated by all things Indian, totally want to visit, what's not to love. It's just the lack of facility with English has proved consternating in my recent customer service experiences.
2. Spongebob.67 is catchy, easy to remember, it has a nice cadence...It is the account I use for anything I know is going to generate a lot of annoying email i.e. facebook (which I do not love.)

The Carwash

I think my life is about embarrassment/humiliation. I purchased an automatic carwash the other day. I never saw the light turn red, never heard a honking sound, and couldn't really tell when my wheel went in the divet-thing so I just kept going. Soap started to spray but by then I was already rolling through the exit. I considered sacrificing the $4 but my car was dotted with soapy stuff. Backing up did not re-activate the carwash. Curses! Overcoming my chagrin, I got a new code but the guy had to watch me drive into the carwash! Like, he actually told me, "I'll watch you drive in." No!! It was a simple error, don't watch me! Ugh!

An unrelated side-note: I was in a little strip-mall the other night and could see through the windows of Bikram Yoga. I thought it would be a bunch of soft, suburban housewives posing in the latest yoga attire. No, it was a bunch of stringy, grey-haired, minimally clothed white guys stretched out on the floor with ye olde hippy-yoga-master perched on a dais in the lotus position chugging water! Eew!

It's Skill level, Jerry.

I've never doubted I am my cello teacher's oldest student, but there have been high-school and college students at the recitals over the years. Well, we just had a Master Class and all the other students were talking about being in Middle School soon. Yes, all in elementary school . Me and the kids, playing cello.

Cujo

Remember how I posted once about little dogs yipping at me when I'm out running? Well, this morning I was trotting around the neighborhood and a dog starts barking at me. It was kind of a medium sized dog so I start veering to the right to give it a wide berth. Next thing I know old Cujo has latched onto my pant leg. Having no bum to prevent the descent of my pants I had nearly a half-moon exposure going on! Dumb dog. I guess I should be glad I have only a hole in my pants and not in my leg.