The RuMMate(R)

You all have probably seen these at your doctor's office. They are helpful to the staff and other doctors because they signal what is going on in that room and how long they can expect to be waiting, or what is needed to assist with the procedure. Essentially, they are status flags that communicate something important.

So lately I've been thinking about getting a couple of roommates and getting a house over here in South Tampa instead of a 1 bedroom apartment. I've never had roommates before, mostly because I like my own space. So I've invented something to help ease everyone into this living arrangement. Enter my brainchild, the RuMMate (R).

The RuMMate (R) helps solve your housemate problems by clearly indicating your status at any given time. It will be easy to install outside of each bedroom door. Your housemates may not have checked your Facebook status recently and may erroneously guess your mood or status, causing awkward moments and uninvited intrusions. It would be available in the following editions:

RuMMate(R) SiMPLE (for Men):

Three flags:
Red (busy/not alone)
Green (come on in)
Yellow (You can come in, but make it quick)

RuMMate(R) DeLUX (for Women):
Eight flags:

Green: Come in/ let's chat/ I'm available/ I'm dressed

Orange: I'm craving some peace and quiet/I'm hungry and/or uncaffeinated/tread lightly and please don't ask me to do anything that requires leaving my room/chocolate might be a good idea

Black: Bad mood/stay away/come back later

White: Naked/not presentable

Red: Slightly emotional/crying/suffering

woman-type symptoms/tread lightly

Lt. Blue: Resting/Happily napping or in bed for the night. (Quiet, please)

Yellow: I'm here and available if you need me/I've got time to chat and laugh/ I've got time to listen

Dk. Blue: Not here/making a Starbucks run

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So what do you think? If you had one of these, would you use it? What would your flags say or indicate?

Random, Delicate Thoughts.

Ok, so I'm trapped here on the couch because I'm sick and thinking about a whole lot of things. I'd much rather be out doing something- anything, really. Except pumping gas because you know how I hate to do that. Oh, and leaf blowing. WHO LEAF BLOWS on a Saturday afternoon? I can just pictures some putz of a man sitting there on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Or maybe he's not a putz, but an attractive, fit man. Anyways. "Hey baby, I'm going to go out and use the leaf blower."

I'm sorry. I just don't see it.

It reminds me of the people I see using those little mini leaf blowers on the street downtown. I'm convinced that there are two shifts: One shift that blows the leaves off the street, and the other shift that blows the leaves on the sidewalk, from the street. And I'm betting that sometimes the shifts overlap and one guy says to the other, "Dude! You just blew leaves on my sidewalk."

"Sorry, man."

So the other day I went to the post office. Now, every morning I go to the post office downtown. Naturally, I've struck up a certain good morning/head nod/have a great day type of relationship with the mail persons.

Last week the mailman was running behind; No problem, I'll get it later.

The next day he said, "Miss, I'm sorry about yesterday. Y'know what happened right after you left? I found your bucket of mail!"

"Awww, bummer!"

"I was going to bring it to you, but....

I didn't know where you worked."

Think about it.

The Name's Blonde.

J. is one of the funniest people I know. I don't know what it is, but if you get he and I together we laugh and laugh and tell stupid jokes and we make fun of our differences. Early Wednesday morning I took him to the airport for his fantastical trip to NYC for the great ball drop.

______

C: Here, put your bags in the back seat.

J: Whatever. You just wanted to get out of the car to show off your boots and dress and whatever.

C: I did NOT! They are nice, though, aren't they?

______

J: You're straight today. What's that all about? I mean, you're straight every day. I mean, your hair is straight today. I mean... Geez, that was awkward. I'm going to stop talking now.

______

J: That blonde in Starbucks was cute. No ring. And a Coach bag.

C: I don't like Coach bags. Especially little ones. She had nice shoes though. I bet she's really high maintenance.

J: You're right. Besides, I'm leaving town today!

C: Just for the weekend, J. Sheesh!

J: Nope! I'm leaving town today!

______

C: You need a high maintenance woman like that. She would be good for you.

J: I know, I know. What does that mean, and more importantly, what does that say about me, you know, as a person?

C: Did you know surrogate mothers make $40,000 a year?

J. "....."

C: "......"

(silence.)

C: What?

J: I just get worried. Every time you say stuff like that to me, it makes me think you're about to pitch some idea you have.

C: No, no, noooo. I meant that having a high maintenance wife is still cheaper than hiring a surrogate to have your children. Sheesh!

______

J: Well, since we don't have to spend a lot of time hugging at the airport, here, look over this school project for my class.

______

J: At least let me get you a latte for the drive to the airport.

C: Ok. It's really not that complicated! I mean it really isn't! I don't see what the big deal is when I go out on dates. It's just a grande-decaf-peppermint-white-mocha-two pumps peppermint-two pumps white mocha-SOY- latte... did I say Soy?

The end.

Two Ears Don't Mean You Heard It Right.

Ok, I admit it. I was half listening, typing, watching a decorating show, and the crunchy Wheat Thins were making it a bit hard to hear things.

So I hear, "There were soooo many people in the waiting room today at the Doctor's office."

Me, half- listening, but still feeling intelligent enough to share a grown-up observation: "Well, probably people are trying to use their Flex Dollars before the year ends. Use it or lose it."

Mom, half-listening to me, too: "Probably, yeah, that's probably why."

(Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks. A newspaper page is shuffled. All is quiet.)

Suddenly, he speaks.

Dad: "Yeah, Chelsea. Probably everyone timed it so that they broke their arms and legs just in time before their Flex Dollars expire."

Oh, we laughed.