Some things about myself that make me go "hmmm..."

There are some things about myself that I will never understand. Today I’m going to list a few things that I do/don’t do that make me go “hmmm.”

Like why when I get perfectly good advice, such as which horse to bet on, combined with doing some of my own researching of which horse has the best odds, which brings me to the same conclusion as the advice I got, do I then decide to bet on said horse but only to “place” not to WIN?? Like why didn’t I pick Holy Helena for the win?? Why didn’t I listen to the solid advice I got instead of going with my idea? Which was; “you know sometimes the favored horse ends up not performing, it’s not unheard of that the best bet going into a race doesn’t win.”

This was precisely my thinking yesterday. So, with that in mind I instead placed a bet on another horse to win, which was NOT Holy Helena. I spent $150.00 placing three bets, I won $102.50. So I’m only out of pocket $47.50. Not bad considering I’m sure many other people were probably out of pocket much more. But think of how much I could have won if I had placed the bet I actually wanted to place which was $1000.00 on Holy Helena for the win.

Good thing I suck at math because I’ll never know what I could have come home with if I had only a) listened to the solid advice I got and b) just gone with my instincts. I’d say I’ll make better choices next time, except I’m not a gambler, I feel like money is too hard to come by, and takes entirely too long to make that I just get a pit in my stomach every single time I gamble. So I tend to avoid it like the plague, I don’t even buy lotto tickets for myself or other people. I’m not in the business of giving false hope. Other than my loss, the races were a good amount of fun, and next time, if there is a next time, I will spend much more time sitting in my seat watching the races rather than inside a tent watching people. That you can be sure of.

Another thing that amazes me/frustrates me about myself is how much I detest shopping. Shopping of all kinds is something I totally leave until the last minute, which is why I used to not end up at some events that I would have given my word on about attending. I just can’t bring myself to deal with crowds, taking clothes on and off, and my least favorite part of all of it is when it comes time to pay for it. No fun. And if you think I dislike clothes shopping, well that’s got nothing on going to the market. Man, oh man I can think of a good dozen things I would way rather do than go to the grocery store. I went today, FINALLY, and it literally took me 1.5 hours to wash all my fruits and veggies and then put everything away. Then there is the cooking part of having gone to the market. Kill me. Nope. I’m not a fan. I swear hiring a personal cook is the one luxury on this earth I would afford myself if I were a hugely successful author. The only thing I like food is eating it.

The last thing I find absolutely amazing about myself these days is my lack of patience for screeching children. Children who are using their voices in a way that honestly sounds like somebody is murdering them, while the parents just sit there. Sit there as if it is not actually happening. As if their child isn’t screaming down the entire planet.

Who can live like that??? It boggles my mind that people can tolerate children like that. Better yet, why do people raise children like that??

This morning at 9:15am the family that lives behind us with two little girls (I’ve blogged about them before)were out in their garden. It’s a beautiful holiday Monday. The sun is FINALLY shining, there is a gentle breeze, and all the other yards are quiet. So quiet that all you could hear was the wind rustling the leaves of sad trees. And then it started. The parents and the two little girls were outside “enjoying” their back yard. The littlest girl almost from the get go began her “I’m being murdered” shrill shrieking that she’s so fond of doing. Yannick and I were outside, attempting to enjoy the morning in between the fit thrower throwing fits. Finally, at 10am I had had enough. We had been chased inside our home and Yannick was wandering around slamming all the windows closed. Then it hit me. No. Hell no. Why should that family be the only people in the entire neighborhood who get to enjoy their yard?

The answer is they shouldn’t.

So I stepped out onto my deck, leaned over my railing, looked at them through the trees and calmly said; “excuse me. Would you mind please asking your daughters to not shriek at the top of their lungs? I’m all for kids playing, I’ve had kids myself. Laughing, playing, being kids is one thing, but this just screaming non stop doesn’t allow for us to enjoy our property. And like you we too would like to have our coffee and read in our garden. I mean I have dogs that I ensure don’t bark incessantly…”

The dad replied; “we’ll do our best.”

Not “sorry.”

Not; “oh wow, we didn’t realize they were that loud.”

Nothing of the sort. Just a “we’ll do our best.”

Will you now?

Dude. That’s NOT PARENTING. We will “do our best.” How about, my kid doesn’t shriek at the top of their lungs because it makes my ears want to explode, and my kid listens to me because I’m a parent and they’re a kid and no kid needs to behave that way. I mean holy fuck buddy, I can get my dogs to stop barking with a look, and you’re going to “do your best” in making sure your kid doesn’t drive your neighbors batty?!

Wow. I hope we’re still neighbors when his daughters are teenagers and they’re still just “doing their best” to get them to come home at curfew…