A perfect sea urchin


My Evil Thoughts

Welcome to where I air my evil views, proud, uncowed, unbowed, and absolutely evil, superficial, and ignorant. Get used to it. To return to the main blog page, just click here.



Buying Shirts Cheap

The letter appeared on the Frum Atlanta email list, and it was one of the few I read at random, because the list volume is way more than I can handle. A woman was offering to sell brand new "uniform shirts" for $4.50 each and she had boys extra large, which is women's small to medium. That's a good price. She had good colors, and they are even short sleeved. The problem is I have to take two buses to get them and have a long walk back home. OK, I can handle that.

It is hot today, but the air will do me good. I'm not sure why my source for shirts is not giving them away or swapping them or whatever. In a world without schools with strict dress codes, boys polo shirts that girls can also wear, would be pretty quickly snapped up so that girls and women could have something to wear to services with a skirt. They would not be looked down upon. Oh well, when girls wear dress code/uniforms to school five days a week, they can be princesses on shabbos.

I can use the shirts. I can use a night where I fall asleep without having arguments with myself and waking myself up by shaking my head. It's just a very weird way to fall asleep. I can use the walk.

Still I'm dreading the northbound bus trip to Northlake (We have lots of lakes that don't exist in this part of the world.) and then on to Toco Hills. I am not dreading the long walk home. I can use that. At least that is what I tell myself. It's good to do something different once in a while. It is good to get a bargain.

Eileen H. Kramer -- August 16, 2012

Pat the Cushion

Pat it. Pat it three times. The cushion I am patting belongs to the world famous, or is that infamous, hot seat. Jon Acuff is having a seat there while I read Quitter. So far I like what I think he is about to teach me, but I also have that "left out" feeling.

Jon begins with a chapter on how to undress in a bathroom stall. I've done this zillions of times, and have often worn pants for it. You can take them off first. You don't always because you want to wash up before you put on a clean shirt. If you do take the bottom of your outfit off first, you don't offend any one by dropping it on the floor. The rules in female bathrooms are different. No one is offended if a woman in the next stall is changing her clothes, but I've never just dropped my pants to the floor. You sit down on the seat and take them off carefully. Then stand up and hang them on the hook.

I also think I have Jon beat for taking off my shoes, heavy coat, and big tote bag in the airport. Six years ago when I was business travelling a lot, I got good at going through security, but I wasn't fast. I didn't need to be. Hartsfield Jackson, the airport I flew out of has a centralized security venue and then a long trip through the tubes to the actual terminals. Most airports DON'T work like this.

Speed simply doesn't matter. Freedom from hassle and comfort do. Now, ironically, Jon also flew out of Hartsfield so we are dealing with the same, humngeous checkpoint, and the same long lines. My approach was to know I wasn't fast. If there was a fast lane, I would avoid it. I might even go in the slow lane for families with lots of children and stuff. I had lots of stuff so this is a good fit.

The trick is to get enough baskets and know how many you need, and get a few more for others. Why not? Encouraging calm around you makes the whole prcoess easier. I need three for a business trip in the winter, one for shoes and tote bag, one for carry on, and one for purse. Ask to sit down to remove shoes. Let others go ahead. Load your bags and then ASK FOR A BENCH OR CHAIR ON THE OTHER END. At Hartsfield you have to ask. They chairs are at the booths where security screeners take an occasional miscreant, but they'll let you use one. I think they have to. My shoes tie, and I'm much more comfortable putting them on sitting down. Then put on the coat open. Wear the hat, place bags comfortably on shoulders, and you're off.

No, you're not the fastest one out the gate, but you're out totally put together in one piece, and you still have that long walk/people mover ride through the tunnels so you arrive at the wating area, feeling good, where guess what, you're still going to have to wait anyway! Coming out of security, perfectly put together and feeling good is way more important than being fast.

Now of course if Mr. Acuff got his way, I'd be among the last to board the plane. Guess what, I'd thank him! Why? Uh, most airlines assign seats. I'd have a seat. Everyone else would be in. I wouldn't have to hassle with a crowded aisle, and being small, someone else would have to get up with me, and I'd still have plenty of room.

OK, on to the important stuff: I have no desire to quit my day job without another source of income. Jon's first chapter is a peroration against quitting into a hole. I'm a security loving, scairdy cat, middle aged woman. I won't say why I'm reading Quitter. I also have an idea what I would like to do at work and what I'd want to do in an ideal situation. I've been very lucky with my work life and according to Jon, I still am. I'm waiting for the first exercise. I assume, he is going to offer a step-by-step plan.

I wish Jon would also speak about decision fatigue. Sometimes discipline begets discipline. Other times, it depletes. I learned this going on a diet last fall. Dieting is a particularly good driver of decision fatigue. I have some ideas for fixing some of this, I'm going to try to put them into practice. You may even see them on this blog; for everything is not unbloggable, not by a long shot. Maybe I'll even be kind to Jon as he takes his turn in my hot seat. At least he is not an old fart like Etzioni.

Eileen H. Kramer -- August, 7, 2012