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Sunday, January 16, 2011

Step Right Up, Little Lady!

There are a number of things that I’ve discovered I cannot do.

For instance, I cannot do percentages. Honestly, I think I was sick that day. If something is priced at 40% off retail, I am compelled to take 10% off the price four times. If it’s 45%, that’s four ten-percents and then half a ten percent…

This is the reason you often see me in stores sitting on the floor with my socks and shoes off, working out the end price of something.

I cannot listen to – or tell – the same story more than three times. I am terribly interested the first time, compassionate the second, polite the third, and looking for an exit on the fourth telling. This goes for Timmy Jr.’s first words, the time that guy followed you all the way to the parking lot, and that freaky dream from last week. I’ve only got so much time on the planet and then it’s The Great Hereafter – do we really have time for repetition?

And I cannot bake.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I can bake.

I just shouldn’t.

And when I say I shouldn’t, I’m not talking about what it does to my pants or the seam impressions it causes said pants to leave on my hips and thighs.

I’m talking about the burns. Because oven mitt or no oven mitt, I am going to burn some part of my hand (usually the left hand, on the top) at some point.

Each time, of course, I vow to be more careful; and each time, this careful-ness lasts the first ten minutes and then is relegated to the degree of attention I give the other things I have vowed to be more careful about, things like my savings account, getting birthday presents to people on time, staying on my side of the road whilst driving...

I am looking at my hands today, having made lasagna last night, and am contemplating what the carnie judging my age would tell me.

They look at your hands, you know, the carnies. The hands speak, as they say, giving away your age. And mine? Well, while my right hand remains a model of pink and slightly dimpled competence, my left hand speaks of the great pyramids, of the first domesticated dog.

I wasn't there for the building of the great pyramids, of course, but judging by my puckered yet blistered hand, I may have been invited to the grand opening.

I should totally go to the carnival today.

Alas, the carnies are all in Florida or some other southern state, plotting their penny-toss strategies and perfecting the casual leer.

And me? Oh, I’m sure I’ll have baked something again by the time the carnivals roll back into town.

And I’m gonna win me that giant stuffed poodle yet.

35 comments:

becca said...

i get lost on percentages to but i do love to bake even if i'm not entirely goos at it

Bouncin' Barb said...

Too funny. Sit on the floor in the store with shoes and socks off. OMG that is hysterical.

Simple Dude said...

I do the 10% thing too to figure out discounts. Also for tips - 10% of the bill is easy to figure out, then just leave half of that. Kidding. I leave at least 8%.

SD
simpledudecomplexworld.blogspot.com

alwaysinthebackrow said...

The solution is to go 45% of the way to the south, where you will find the carnies.

savannah said...

i think we should all have math refresher courses, sugar! LOL xoxo

Douglas said...

I suppose fractions give you a headache also. I struggle with percentages too. But mostly trying to figure out the ones above 100%. I am never sure that 125% of something is 5 times 25% of it.

I have no idea where carnies go in the winter. I am not sure they are down here but it's possible. The circus folks used to go to Sarasota before New York annexed it.

Simply Suthern said...

I wish those were the only things I couldnt do.

St Jude said...

I find an all in one asbestos suit does the trick when baking. I think they are available from your local army surplus.

Eva Gallant said...

My arms are all scarred with burns from baking!

Oilfield Trash said...

Oh the Carnies, I had almost forgot about those nice bath challenged people.

Gigi said...

Ugggh, percentages!! I can't do them either. Unless it's 50% off. That is the only one I understand. So I tend to skip the other percents.

Gary Baker said...

I can't bake (despite my surname) but I can do percentages -

1% is one hundredth - which is like a two hundredth only 200% the size, or 50% the size of a fiftieth. Okay?

No, I can't do percentages either.

But I can circle my hand clockwise while moving my foot anti-clockwise ... wait .. no, I can't do that either.

Thank goodness I can tpye.

Neo said...

I never did the shoes off thing in the store, I just count whats available and double it, as for the cooking- set the oven on bake, put something in, your baking, don't use the left hand, there problem solved,
Mail here must be slow, just got the invite to the grand opening yesterday.
Sorry I couldn't make it.

Rawknrobyn.blogspot.com said...

Oh, you will, Pearl. Just make sure that stuffed poodle is domesticated.
Your writing is always uplifting. Thanks for that.
xoRobyn

Lo said...

Pearl, you are my idol. You can be funny about anything in the most delightful and brilliant way.

You made me laugh today when my previous thoughts had been about the best way to commit suicide. What an achievement.

Whirlochre said...

Half-baked ideas ought to be 50% possible — but, oddly enough, they're 0.

Glen said...

the good thing about a woman having rough and damaged hands is that they wind up looking and feeling like a mans hands, which allows us men to pretend and live out the fantasy that we are in bed with a man without having to put up with all the pain, mess, uckiness and smells.

er all men have that dream right?

damn, just me again - damn

powdergirl said...

So I'm assuming you're a south paw? Together we could have one pair of gorgeous hands! My right hand is a disaster while the left makes estheticians swoon.

I'd hate to think of your never sitting on the department store floor with your socks off again, but maybe this helps. Take the first 2 digits of the price, multiply by 4, subtract that number from original price. Voila, you're pretty damn close to knowing what 40% off means to your bill.

Smart Mouth Broad said...

The carnies are in town. The fair starts tomorrow. They said to say hello.

Belle said...

I do the 10% thing too and I burn myself a lot. Just last week I burned my hand taking the pizza out and threw the pan in the air. The pizza landed face up! That was the highlight of my day.

HumorSmith said...

Okay, you put the cake in the oven, close the door, set the temp, then bake 30% longer than peach cobbler.

Without removing your oven mitts.

Or your slippers.

Jhon Baker said...

This post makes me want to send you something. a gift. It'll be perfect for you. E-mail your address, I threw away the envelope that came with your book.

Lazarus said...

I love piece of writing with the word "carnies" in it. Too few people know what they are. Very funny piece!

24 Corners said...

You're not alone Pearl....at least in the counting department, although, percentages aren't too tricky for me, but everything else dealing with numbers is which means, that my fingers and toes are like my own personal calculator.
And don't get me started on "repeaters"! They should all be put into the same room so they can tell their stories to *each other* over and over and over again! If I ever start start doing that I've told dear ones to take drastic measures.

As far as baking goes...why don't you just come over and we'll bake up a storm...I'll do all the oven stuff, you can mix and lick the spoon, it'll be fun!
xo J~

River said...

Percentages are easy. 50% is half off, so 40% is almost half off. Bargain.
You need those double insulated, extra long oven gloves that go up to your elbows.

Symdaddy said...

Half of me thinks you're making that up, half that it must be true and the other 10% hasn't made up it's mind yet!

boycottamericanwomen said...

BOYCOTT AMERICAN WOMEN
Why American men should boycott American women

http://boycottamericanwomen.blogspot.com/

I am an American man, and I have decided to boycott American women. In a nutshell, American women are the most likely to cheat on you, to divorce you, to get fat, to steal half of your money in the divorce courts, don't know how to cook or clean, don't want to have children, etc. Therefore, what intelligent man would want to get involved with American women?

American women are generally immature, selfish, extremely arrogant and self-centered, mentally unstable, irresponsible, and highly unchaste. The behavior of most American women is utterly disgusting, to say the least.

This blog is my attempt to explain why I feel American women are inferior to foreign women (non-American women), and why American men should boycott American women, and date/marry only foreign (non-American) women.

BOYCOTT AMERICAN WOMEN!

Gaston Studio said...

Oh God, I was also "out" the day percentages were taught and I do exactly what you do, use the 10% to get wherever I'm going. Poor waitresses!

Barbara Blundell said...

My best friend is called Aloe Vera. She lives in a pot on the kitchen windowsill and monitors how much cooking I do. She often looks quite denuded after a marathon bake-in

Glen said...

BOYCOTT LOSERS

This comment is my way of saying that people who crash peoples blogs and leave ridiculous comments about pathetic opinions just to leave a link to theirs, should be boycotted.

p.s. ladies - as you can no longer look to American men for love,and are no probably quite desperate due to the boycott, can I suggest you try stumpy, chunky married Brits instead?

Georgina Dollface said...

I have a hard time remembering how to spell forty. Is it fourty or forty, dammit? I'll even round up a bill payment for fifty bucks instead of $49, because I don't want to spell forty incorrectly on my cheque. LOL! - G

Oh, and WTF?!? in the comments above!!!

Maundering mutterer said...

I always say it's so many out of a hundred, which I can work back to ten or one and then multiply. Er. Like that.

With cooking, I'm the cutting girl. Slice myself on a regular basis without conscious intent - no doubt self-destructive urges coming to the fore - so you're a 'burner' eh?

Louisiana Belle said...

I burned my hand last night helping some church ladies cook and I asked myself why I ALWAYS must burn my hand, finger, or arm while cooking. Every frickin' time! But percentages I have no problem with. Wish I could switch them out.

Pat Tillett said...

Bake me a pie...

I always seem to injury myself while cooking. It doesn't stop me, but it happens. My wife says it's because I'm "hyper."

Linda O'Connell said...

Pearl,
You have just been discovered! Your pearls of wisdom are priceless. I usually skim blogs but I have spent my allotment on yours. You have such talent. Please stop by and visit my blog. I signed on as a follower of yours. Please sign on as a follower of mine. You are a breath of fresh spring air. Yeah, I am sick of winter too! http://lindaoconnell.blogspot.com/