What year is this?

Francie and I went to Olympia on business (gotta love when people say 'on business') and I felt like I had walked straight into 2001. Something about the place reminded me of high school. Maybe it was all the driving to and from strip malls that we were doing to kill time.

We went to a coffee shop and there was all sorts of bootcut jeans + coach purses +  studded belts going on. I ordered two 8-ounce, 2% lattes and a chocolate chip cookie.

"OK, a chocolate chip cookie and two nonfat lattes—anything else?" the lady says.

"Nope, thats it. But actually, do you have 2% milk for those?"

"Yep. Nonfat, 2%, same thing."

I was stunned. Not knowing what to do, I just nodded and said, "Ah, okay" as if I'd only just then learned that 2% and nonfat were the same thing. Who knew? 2% and nonfat? Turns out, SAME THING. I know, crazy. All this time I was walking around thinking that they differed by a margin of exactly two percent, but I must have been mistaken!

I don't know. The situation baffles me. At first I thought maybe she was trying to say, "We don't have 2%, but is nonfat OK?" But no. She was clear. She said that 2% and nonfat were the same thing. Here's the kicker, I honestly think she believes it.

Now don't you tell me I'm being a snob. That lady works in a coffee shop—knowing the different milk percentages is 80% of the job. Also, I didn't care at all and happily guzzled my latte in less than five minutes like I always do. No harm, no foul.

An old photo and my old boots, which I'm still mourning the loss of. 

Later,
Margaret

Steal This Business Idea: Edition 1

Welcome one and all to the first ever edition of 'Steal This Business Idea'.

This week, we'll be talking about bicycle helmets. They'll save your life, but they're a bloody nuisance to fit on your noggin.

All those straps. The sticky, oh-no-I'm-going-to-pinch-my-neck buckle. The adjustable interior lining. The extra foam padding. The plastic, ear-loop sliders. It's a FECKing spiderweb of annoyance!

Last weekend, my mom and dad stayed in a cabin in Leavenworth. It had a brand new, high-tech washer and dryer. Unlike our ye old washer here in Kenmore, where you set the load to 'small', 'medium' or 'large', this robot washing machine entered "sense" mode and detected the size by itself!

You see where I'm going with this...

Someone (who? YOU!) invent a high-tech bike helmet that senses your head size. You put it on, press a button and then voila, it tightens to suit your skull.

Do it! Invent it! If you don't, then Apple will and iHelmets will be flying off the shelves faster than you could say "fecking spiderweb of annoyance".

Andy and some long-haired mistress on the Golden Gate Bridge. 

See ya,
Margaret

Takin care of BIZ-NASS!

I remember, a while back, my sister Char telling me about the highly productive morning she was having. So productive, she told me, that without really realising it, she had been humming "Taking Care of Business" by Bachman–Turner Overdrive to herself the whole morning. Isn't the human mind a glorious thing?

Well, speaking of productivity, I was on FIRE this morning! Writing dope copy, making a dentist appointment like a seasoned adult and replying to emails so fast it would make your bloody head spin, mate.

This is what showed up for 'business woman' when I creative commons searched Google Images. But wait, is she wearing Laga Gaga horse hoof shoes? 

Being efficient just feels so good. So why can I be like that every day? Or even most days? For every day like today, I spend at least three eating mealy apples with peanut butter and scouring the Internet for any reality show I can get my hands on (if you've ever found yourself in the midst of a 'Princesses Long Island' marathon, then you'll know what I mean).

Side note about 'Princesses Long Island'. Did no one think for a second that maybe, just maybe they should add an "of" in the name? 'Princesses of Long Island? Wouldn't that have made a bit more sense?

Anyhoo. As all us biz-nass women do, I even scheduled in a bit of socialising! I walked down to Newhaven (a part of Edinburgh down by the shore) and met up with my friend Gemma for some grub. As I was walking, I realised what my dream job would be: writer for a funny TV show. I think my forte would be coming up with characters who remind the audience of people they've met in real life.

What's your dream job? And don't say "ice cream taste tester", because people always say that.

Email my heart,
Margaret

P.S. I don't normally share stuff that everybody's already talking about. But just in case you haven't yet, watch the cutest video ever (and just so you know, he's saying "sprinkling").

 

P.P.S. Don't think I'm an idiot who doesn't know how to punctuate around quotations. Most of the time in British English, you're not supposed to put the comma inside the quotation mark unless you're writing an entire, complete quote. I've gotten suckered into doing it that way and, dare I say it, I actually agree with the Red Coats on this one.