Poor Firefighters

I don't know. Maybe it was the fact that I was out with a gay friend the other night. Maybe it had a little bit to do with the article I read and then referred to in this post. Maybe I'm 34. Maybe I'm ovulating??? Maybe I've had a couple of days to STEW about X getting laid and it's pissing me off that I didn't go ahead and get it all over with first!

But I'm not sure. It could be any of the above. And we all know that I have immeasurable quantities of self control- especially when compared to that juvenile.

Not long ago, a meth lab near my workplace exploded or something and we were all treated to such a show as put on by the local fire station. An officemate and I stood around gawking at the bravery and efficiency they displayed in taming the beastly flames. The house next door started to catch on fire. One fireman grabbed a hose while some others helped, and off he went. Crash! He dove THROUGH a glass door, RIGHT into the burning house! I just about fainted. I think my officemate almost did too, and he's not even gay. Really, how could anyone RESIST loving these guys? All fire was put out in about three minutes and with the police left to finish up all the boring crap, we all went back to work. Firemen probably went back to lifting weights.

Anyway. I had to run to the office this afternoon. Sunday is my "get all this shit done before the boss gets to work in the morning" day. For the first time, I noticed the
fire station not more than a few short blocks from there. I slowed the car a bit, leering at the figures walking around inside the big garage area thing. Looking pretty good, for dark shady figures! Which distinguishes them from the fire fighters near my house. They are old and yucky. Too many 'roids like that Benoit dude. But we're talking about the inner city over by the office, so I'm sure all the strapping young stallions ( oops did I just say that ) have to start out in problem areas of the city.

A friend of mine was working on a project when I got to my desk. I gushed over the firemen, vowing to contribute to one of their Holiday drives for Starving Children in South Phoenix or whatever. And I will, too! I will TRY not to cat-call them or make any of those crude "hose" jokes because firemen are NOT just some objects for our gratification, okay? They are human beings. With feelings. And muscles. Young, STRONG muscles. So I need to have a little more respect. My friend was also entertained by their show, and had already thought up an excuse to pay an innocent visit to the station. At least I'm not THAT bad.

San Francisco firefighters don't put up with what WE deal with every day

I am astounded that the firefighters who were cat-called during a gay parade are actually filing a complaint ( AP article here at sfgate.com ).

I have to listen to sexual comments all the time at my supposed professional job. I don't mean once a day either; it's more like several every day. Some are related to just women in general while others are pointedly directed at me or others. Let's be honest. If I were to file complaints every time I was harassed in a sexual manner at work, my career would be soon over. I'd be considered a troublemaker and maybe bipolar.. Of course these MEN aren't used to being sexually objectified and treated like a blow-up doll so naturally they feel the right thing to do is file a complaint.

The hypocrisy of it.

Hate it when I don't have a point

There was a horrible car accident on my street today. Well, ok, it was a fender bender. It all happened because some idiot was jay-walking, the drivers coming around the curve were racing because they had just gotten their green light, and screeeeech craaaaack they went. The jay-walker stood there, dumbly surveying the scene until someone told her in spanish that the policia would hold her responsible. She disappeared after that. The cops did show up but I never got to find out who would get the ticket. I love the inevitable "who-is-getting-the-ticket" speculation that goes on every time people gather to stare at a wreck... why do we always do that? We are all such know-it-alls, too. The lady who slammed on her brakes to miss the jay-walker REFUSED to get out of her old Jeep Cherokee. Sorry, GRAND Cherokee. She couldn't move her neck. She was probably scared she was going to get the ticket. So traffic was further delayed by the ambulances and the fire trucks. It struck me as ridiculous. I live on a one-way street. Two blocks down, going the one way, is a fire station. When the firemen got the call, they came barreling out of the station, drove the correct way down our street, and turned. They went AROUND the block, and probably close to six blocks out of their way in order to get to the wreck that was actually only two blocks from the station.

That's why I want to live in this little log cabin I took a picture of on our way back from "Up North." See the little bridge over the little stream? It would probably only take a day or two for this ol' girl to mend it. Wonder if there is a Home Depot anywhere around there? Oh well, I can just cut down a tree if I need any lumber, right? I'll have to remember to bring my axe. ax? First I'll have to remember how to spell it. Anyway, I just can't wait to turn into an Ingalls. It's been my dream ever since I watched my first episode of Little House. I swear, there is an episode of Little House for EVERY situation in life. Someone steals your ax? Laura probably saw him, he was her friend, so she didn't tell on him. But after she goes fishing with Pa, she finally tells him about it, and Pa confronts the kid later. Pa takes the kid to the kid's Pa so they can all learn a good lesson, only the kid's Pa is a total drunk jerk-off, why the hell do you think the kid was stealing an axe? So Pa punches the guy out, and then the guy has a seizure, so they have to run and get Doc Baker out of bed. Doc Baker puts the guy in a big tub of ice since he has a fever, spends a few hours in there, and emerges, shaking his head, saying that the guy will need a "transfusion." Pa turns out to have the same type of blood, so he gives him his lifesaving transfusion. When the guy wakes up, he decides that he started drinking because his wife died a few years ago and we all feel sorry for him. But he decides never to EVER touch the stuff again, and the boy won't be stealing anymore axes, that's for sure. See how easy that is? We all learn something.

Ok, I feel like a complete ass for leaving Nellie Oleson out, but I'm sure I'll have another opportunity to include her in another important life lesson at some point.

As far as my raise is concerned, I'm still waiting for it. It will be a huge relief to finally get a teeny bit extra, I have to say. I just got a notice that I've been paying my cable and electric bills one month late. Not sure how that happened. My system has been as follows: Look at my bank account online. Look to see when I last paid Bill X. Oh, one month ago today? Look to see if I actually have any cash in the bank. That's probably where things started to get confusing. Everything would have been FINE if I would have stuck with my usual habit of not opening my mail. At least I've cut down on my eating. Today, knowing full well that I didn't have any money in the bank, I drove over to my office JUST to get the bag of Mini Mounds candy bars I had in my desk drawer. Somebody left them on my desk around Christmas time, I never found out who. I think it must have been an accident, but the second I saw them, I was sure to put them in my drawer, damn STRAIGHT! Anyhow. I paced and paced around my kitchen, looking in the cupboards and the fridge. The fridge is not the place to look if you are hungry, though, because not only is there NOTHING edible in there, what is in there would make anyone lose their appetite. Right now, I have a bottle of cheap BBQ sauce, used one time around a year ago, some zucchini that is about halfway blackened and liquified, two moldy lemons, and two putrid cartons of Silk. See why I had to go clear to the office to get something to eat? I'm full now.