i went to the city on friday with my sister and her friend, P. we were on a mission to find new kicks. my sister needs more shoes like she needs a hole in her head, but P and i were in dire straights. i have one pair of beat up running shoes full of dirt and gravel, a pair of converse that gives me blisters, and a pair of pumas that are a size too big. if i want to go out with a casual shoe, it involves either a flip flop or blisters. these are not fun options.
what do we end up with by the weekend's close? i own a new pair of sandals and work shoes. P and my sister each bought boots. and i am now shopping for shoes to wear to this wedding. i'm going to have to wait another month before even considering buying those sneakers.
this is pitiful.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Friday, August 07, 2009
BINGO!
on saturday late afternoon, my sister and i went to see our grandma at the home. saturday late afternoons are actually a terrible time to visit because she plays bingo, and she will ignore the hell out of your ass for some bingo. bingo is grandma's favorite thing to do these days, even though she doesn't know it and will totally forget she played about a minute after the cards are cleared from in front of her. she will actually go so far as to deny that she plays bingo, and then make a face like you're fucking crazy, sort of implying that bingo is for utter losers and she has always played bridge.
so we show up in the middle of bingo, and of course she barely looks up even though she hasn't seen me for three weeks - although what does she know about that, silly me - and my sister and i settle in for some boring-ass bingo times. then someone yells out, BINGO! and we look over and a gaggle of CNAs (employees) are not only playing bingo, they're winning! on top of that, the weekend activities lady we refer to as the placid cow for IQ and appearance reasons trods over there with the tray of prizes and gives them prizes. and top of THAT, they are actually taking these sad prizes, these little tokens that make the residents' day. LAME.
this was too much. not only are these juvenile-ass employees playing bingo against a boatload of senile old people, but they are playing against senile old people who live to play bingo and are now taking prizes? oh hell no.
so of course i go up to placid cow and say, "i really don't think employees should be winning. i don't think you should be giving them prizes. this activity is for the residents and they're at a disadvantage." my sister, of course, jumps in and adds her two cents, and the placid cow gets flustered and starts flapping around and braying, "I DON'T WANT TO GET INVOLVED! I'M NOT GETTING INVOLVED!" to which we say, "we'll get fucking involved, lady. those CNAs are playing against senile old people and its not fair." we had at this point noticed that the CNAs had a few prizes in front of them, meaning that they had basically been winning all afternoon. the placid cow trods back to the CNAs, and under the guise of telling them to fuck off, actually says, "i need to check your numbers!" then discovers that they don't actually have bingo, but it's too late because she's already handed prizes out to them. see why we call her placid cow? i should call her dumbass for short.
the kicker about the whole thing is that the CNAs were only about ten feet away and placid cow lows very loudly, so we could hear that she didn't tell them to scram, but instead said something totally random. not sly, lady. not everyone has the IQ of a lamp post, try and remember.
i wouldn't normally say shit to how people do their jobs, especially people who clean diapers and shit (literally) for a living, but we pay this fucking facility eight grand a MONTH to take care of our grouchy old lady and she needs to win her ass some bingo. sorry, CNAs, you're going to have to go and actually do your jobs now and stop whooping on old folks at bingo and winning saran-wrapped sugar cookies, bananas, and tangerines.
the additional component to this sad tale is that grandma usually wins since she is one of the more alert residents and we always find little packets of cookies hidden in her fleece jacket pockets, or a bag of animal crackers on her dresser. sure enough, the last game was BLACKOUT and grandma won that shit and chose some cookies, which she immediately tried to give to my sister. since saturday, i've retold the story to my parents and now that i'm up at four thirty in the morning, i am deciding that i'll tell the weekday activities director, whom i'm guessing is placid cow's boss. i'm not kidding myself into thinking that placid cow will be fired or even reprimanded, or that the CNAs will be told to cut it out, because this is a nursing home and shit is always retarded. it must be hard to find idiots to pay to call out bingo numbers. but seriously, someone needs to let the staff know that their employee is a fucking idiot. at the end of the game, placid cow walks over to me and says conspiratorially, "you know, i think they were just trying to trick me. i went and checked their numbers and they didn't actually have the right numbers." um, what? duh. why are you telling me this? to look more like an idiot? you don't think i already fucking gathered that? jesus.
so it's 5:13 am and i woke up at 3:30 and started ranting about bingo in my head. i got up a few minutes ago to type it out and eat some maple + brown sugar mini wheats. and now i should try and get some sleep. it's fucked up that i only spent three weeks in asia and i am so brutally jet lagged. i was still jet lagged in asia, which for me stands to reason that i should have adjusted to being home fairly quickly. guess not.
so we show up in the middle of bingo, and of course she barely looks up even though she hasn't seen me for three weeks - although what does she know about that, silly me - and my sister and i settle in for some boring-ass bingo times. then someone yells out, BINGO! and we look over and a gaggle of CNAs (employees) are not only playing bingo, they're winning! on top of that, the weekend activities lady we refer to as the placid cow for IQ and appearance reasons trods over there with the tray of prizes and gives them prizes. and top of THAT, they are actually taking these sad prizes, these little tokens that make the residents' day. LAME.
this was too much. not only are these juvenile-ass employees playing bingo against a boatload of senile old people, but they are playing against senile old people who live to play bingo and are now taking prizes? oh hell no.
so of course i go up to placid cow and say, "i really don't think employees should be winning. i don't think you should be giving them prizes. this activity is for the residents and they're at a disadvantage." my sister, of course, jumps in and adds her two cents, and the placid cow gets flustered and starts flapping around and braying, "I DON'T WANT TO GET INVOLVED! I'M NOT GETTING INVOLVED!" to which we say, "we'll get fucking involved, lady. those CNAs are playing against senile old people and its not fair." we had at this point noticed that the CNAs had a few prizes in front of them, meaning that they had basically been winning all afternoon. the placid cow trods back to the CNAs, and under the guise of telling them to fuck off, actually says, "i need to check your numbers!" then discovers that they don't actually have bingo, but it's too late because she's already handed prizes out to them. see why we call her placid cow? i should call her dumbass for short.
the kicker about the whole thing is that the CNAs were only about ten feet away and placid cow lows very loudly, so we could hear that she didn't tell them to scram, but instead said something totally random. not sly, lady. not everyone has the IQ of a lamp post, try and remember.
i wouldn't normally say shit to how people do their jobs, especially people who clean diapers and shit (literally) for a living, but we pay this fucking facility eight grand a MONTH to take care of our grouchy old lady and she needs to win her ass some bingo. sorry, CNAs, you're going to have to go and actually do your jobs now and stop whooping on old folks at bingo and winning saran-wrapped sugar cookies, bananas, and tangerines.
the additional component to this sad tale is that grandma usually wins since she is one of the more alert residents and we always find little packets of cookies hidden in her fleece jacket pockets, or a bag of animal crackers on her dresser. sure enough, the last game was BLACKOUT and grandma won that shit and chose some cookies, which she immediately tried to give to my sister. since saturday, i've retold the story to my parents and now that i'm up at four thirty in the morning, i am deciding that i'll tell the weekday activities director, whom i'm guessing is placid cow's boss. i'm not kidding myself into thinking that placid cow will be fired or even reprimanded, or that the CNAs will be told to cut it out, because this is a nursing home and shit is always retarded. it must be hard to find idiots to pay to call out bingo numbers. but seriously, someone needs to let the staff know that their employee is a fucking idiot. at the end of the game, placid cow walks over to me and says conspiratorially, "you know, i think they were just trying to trick me. i went and checked their numbers and they didn't actually have the right numbers." um, what? duh. why are you telling me this? to look more like an idiot? you don't think i already fucking gathered that? jesus.
so it's 5:13 am and i woke up at 3:30 and started ranting about bingo in my head. i got up a few minutes ago to type it out and eat some maple + brown sugar mini wheats. and now i should try and get some sleep. it's fucked up that i only spent three weeks in asia and i am so brutally jet lagged. i was still jet lagged in asia, which for me stands to reason that i should have adjusted to being home fairly quickly. guess not.
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