Tag Archives: manners

Don’t Mess with the Unicorn

Lisa Edmunds unicorn rainbow mane

I happened to walk in on the Unicorn.
She was combing her shimmering mane
And polishing her horn
In preparation for New Years shenanigans.
She looked at me.
She was not pleased.
I wasn’t being nosy.
I just happened to walk in.
I didn’t know she was in the room.
I apologized.
A lot.
She said it was all right.
I was not to worry.
It could happen to anyone.
And then this happened.

burnt unicorn

Do you know what’s worse than a burnt unicorn?

A whole herd of burnt unicorns.

burnt unicorns

Don’t mess with the Unicorn.

Happy 2018.
It will be better than 2017.
I promise.
But please
Be safe, be careful.

Don’t mess with the Unicorn.

Pet Peeves


***Warning! Oncoming rant***

Things that drive me really, really crazy:

-People who don’t watch where they’re going because they’re too busy playing with their phones. Watch out! I’m winning the battle against smoking but losing the one against the urge to grab your phone and hurl it against a wall.

-People who slurp their spaghetti. Ramen, udon, soba: acceptable. Spaghetti: no. Stop it. RIGHT NOW!

-People who wear their keys on the outside of their pants. There’s enough superfluous noise in the world already. And you know you only do it because you can’t afford a red sports car.

-People who say “nucular”. Come on, y’all. It ain’t a word.

-People who pretend to be stupid to avoid responsibility. A woman I sometimes have to work with does this. She doesn’t listen when I talk so, of course, she doesn’t understand what I say, and I end up having to explain everything three times. Also, she doesn’t speak English and yet the company keeps putting her into jobs where she has to use English. I’ve known her for years now and she hasn’t gotten any better. I think I understand why. It’s a form of rebellion because she doesn’t want to speak English. She’s nice enough in other ways; I don’t dislike her, but I do resent having to work twice as hard to cover for her. I’m very curious about what her other colleagues think.

In another department there’s a guy who is both stupid and incompetent and everybody, including him, knows it. I’ve asked our colleagues why they put up with it and they say he’s a sweet person.

“But…I don’t CARE about that! I would much rather work with an intelligent asshole than have to clean up the messes of people who are not qualified to do their jobs!”

Honestly, they don’t pay me enough.

***End of rant. Thank you for listening.***

Fork It

The standard Japanese meal is composed of some sort of meat or fish dish accompanied by a couple of vegetable-oriented side dishes, pickles, miso soup and, of course, a bowl of white rice. Proper manners dictate that the first thing you do is swish your chopsticks in the soup. There is logic to this: the rice is truly sticky and if you don’t wet your chopsticks, the rice will stick to them. It would be unseemly to suck on them, or worse yet, stick out your tongue to try to work the bits loose.

At work a while back, we were settling down to our cold bentos and  the woman sitting across from me stuck her chopsticks into her can of lukewarm tea. One of the guys noticed me noticing that and asked if I knew why she did that. I thought for a moment and the light dawned. “There’s no miso soup!”

PENTAX DIGITAL CAMERASo today at lunch there was a woman sitting next to me and when they brought her spaghetti, she picked up a fork and spoon and swished them around in her water glass. Some things just get to be habit, I guess, but that was weird.

Slurp Master General

PENTAX DIGITAL CAMERAThe other day at the noodle shop, this guy was tucking into a bowl of soba and slurped with such strength and intensity that I thought he would inhale the chopsticks, the bowl and maybe even the table along with the noodles. One of his slurps echoed off the opposite wall, rebounded off the darkened woodwork and bamboo screens, knocked the bandana off the serving lady’s head, careened along the painted concrete floor, threatened to topple a rather elegant flower arrangement in an over-sized vase, and was finally dissipated by the flapping paper fans of the blissfully ignorant hen party seated in the opposite corner.

It was the Ringling Brothers circus of slurps, world-class, top-of-the-line, one-of-a-kind, not-to-be-missed.

OK, I would have been happy to miss it. Must remember to invest in some ear plugs.