Scaramouche, Scaramouche

So, last week I said how my fear was kind of spiking, shit was difficult, and that I was naming my fear to help me better manage her.

Well, if I were to rate my day on Friday on a scale from “kittens and rainbows to hair on fire” I guess my Friday would fall just below “hair on fire.” Naming my fear didn’t do shit for me.

This weekend, I’ve been alternating between anxiety, dread, and not a little resentment.

I don’t want my goddamn weekend fucked up like this. This is bullshit.

Randy and I went to the grocery Sunday morning. We nearly always go on Sunday mornings right when they open at 8 AM. Because Randy is either a sadist or a masochist.

I walked down one of the produce aisles to pick out some apples. I would really prefer to exist on Butterfingers and hot chocolate this week, but comfort eating leads down the path of jeans that are too snug and knees that ache more than usual.

So I picked out a few apples and didn’t see the plastic bag thingies. I walked past the apples, and found a box of plastic produce baggies. I ended up pulling the whole thing down on a shelf of living micro herbs.

Fuckity fucking shit. What the hell, man? And who buys living micro herbs? Who is in their kitchen going “Oh, fooey. I forgot the living micro herbs?”

I got the clam shell packaging to pop back out. I considered digging in my purse for a sharpie so I could change the packaging from “living micro herbs” to “mortally wounded micro herbs” but decided it would be best to move along lest I wreak more havoc in the herbs section.

Randy had wandered down to the Starbucks counter to get us some overpriced coffee and I went to wait in line at the deli. Number 92. They were on 89, so the wait wasn’t bad. Still, it’s always slow at the deli. People really have exacting instructions for the thickness of their cold cuts.

I stood by a barrel of pickles and waited my turn.

I was still annoyed with the box dropping incident. My stomach rolled around as I considered all the different things I’m either scared of or pissed at. Then, I heard her.

This little old white haired lady was singing along to the piped in music. Bohemian Rhapsody. She wasn’t just kind of singing it, she was full on singing Bohemian Rhapsody. She was getting about 50% of the words right and she was rocking the shit out of it.

I did not realize what I needed, more than anything, was to see an old woman singing a Queen song at a deli counter.

It turns out that was exactly what I needed.

Shit. That little old lady is a fucking badass. Remember when you were a badass? For a while back in your forties. You could get that back. It wasn’t that long ago. 

I don’t really like the song Bohemian Rhapsody. Not that it isn’t a perfectly fine song, it’s just that I’ve heard it 12 billion times and was sick to death of it by the time I was married the first time.

I never would have thought that I would be walking into work on a Monday morning with “scaramouche, scaramouche” echoing through my head as a battle cry.

Scaramouche, motherfuckers.

I will take my fear by the hand and think of the amazing old woman at the deli. I don’t get to decide what gets thrown at me. I do get to decide, however, how I deal with it. I get to decide how I feel about myself. I get to decide how I spend my days.

Perhaps, this battle cry will wither by Monday evening. Perhaps, it won’t. I don’t care. I will worry about Tuesday when it gets here. Monday is covered.

Nevertheless, she persisted.


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  • Thank you. A perfect way to start the week. Scaramouche Motherfuckers! (I thought for a long time they were saying, “got to moosh, got to moosh, like it was some kinda dance move.)

  • If your battle cry of “Scaramouche, motherfuckers!” doesn’t last the week then let it be “Deli karaoke, motherfuckers!” Because not everyone likes ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ and anyway only 10% of people know 50% or more of the words and that’s too much math for 8 AM on Sunday morning which is not easy in spite of what The Commodores try to say. Seriously, there’s nothing easy about Sunday morning because it’s when you wake up with a hangover, but I’m getting off the subject.
    Deli karaoke…it will inspire others.

  • Excellent motto. I happen to think that Bohemian Rhapsody is a remarkable song that gets way overplayed. In any case Scaramouch mo-fo’s!!

  • Persist you must! BTW I would never buy micro greens in the market. At a farmer’s market yes but I still remember the disease from sprouts a zillion years ago. Bragging point, my wonderful fabulous neighbors who give us their hunting and fishing bounty, grow micro greens and share with me!

  • Can you do the Fandango?

    I LOVE your grocery store excursions!!

    And yes, Randy is both a sadist and a masochist (in the GOOD way – he gets you out in the world), and he gets the best stories out of you, and, unlike Shirley Jackson’s husband, your drug choices and drunkenness levels are your choice 😉

    Maybe it evens out as husbands go?

    Now I need a Bohemian Rhapsody singing old lady… I’ll probably have to settle for a cussing old man at the gas station coffee counter…

    • I can. I CAN do the Fandango. I will also sing Bohemian Rhapsody for you, but at 58, I’m not anywhere near considering myself an “old lady” no matter WHAT newspapers seem to think (An elderly woman of 60 was attacked yesterday, etc., etc…fuck YOU newspaper!!!). Haha! 😀 XO

  • I love that about the old woman in the deli! I would have started singing along with her and rocking the air guitar when Bohemian Rhapsody finally explodes into full-on rock and roll attack mode! (True story: I once had a gentleman ahead of me in a farmer’s market checkout line dancing the twist with me when the piped in music began playing Tom Jones’ “It’s Not Unusual”! My husband was laughing, everyone was smiling! So much fun!!) I confess to still loving Bohemian Rhapsody after all these years. May I also add that this world has become the most ridiculous place. We NEED to introduce more :La La Land” into our everyday mundane activities. Think about the change that would take place.

    So, what’s with these “Living Micro Herbs”? I’ve never heard of Living Micro Herbs before and frankly, don’t feel as if I’ve been missing out an anything. It sounds more like pretentiousness has been taken to a whole new level. I would want to tell someone using those to just go grab a couple of fucking potatoes and a bag of carrots, for Chrissakes! How on earth has the human race managed to survive all these generations without Living Micro Herbs and kale on every plate? Get over yourselves, people!! Guess what? You will still die someday! At least I will have enjoyed my donuts while you were stuffing Living Micro Herbs in your mouth! HAHA!

    P.S. Battle Cry For The Ages: “Nevertheless, she persisted.” Thank you, Elizabeth Warren. You are my hero. 🙂

  • Ha! If I lived close we would probably run into each other every week…or at least when hubby isn’t working 7 days a week! I love going on Sunday morning (if we make it before church lets out). If not it quickly becomes a nightmare. I need a singing old lady in my life! Have a good week Sister!

  • You ARE badass!
    I sold $2 pencils with “I am badass” on them this weekend. All the money went to Planned Parenthood. Google/etsy that shit, and get yourself some badass pencils, ’cause you are badass as hell.
    I heart you, Badass Michelle! Scaramouche!

  • “Galileo! Gallileo!” …..thunderbolt of lightening, very very frightening.
    I couldn’t resist. Love the image of the old lady singing along. Having Monday covered is a big deal. Keep rockin’ Michelle!

  • I sing that song loudly in public with my granddaughter whenever either of us are have a bad day…. I don’t think anyone knows all the right words. What that lady knew that you are learning, is that true badass starts as you pass a certain age. The 40’s doesn’t have anything on the ’60s for tough. Micro herbs be dammed.

  • Ugh.

    There are days when being in public places sends my anxiety into extreme overdrive. It’s the crowd, wrapped up with fear. Usually I pop a Xanax and just keep praying to finish whatever I am doing so I can get the fuck out of there. But, you know what, when I was young, I was always plugged into my music. Sure, I had a Walkman and all, but whatever. I did that for years, but I stopped recently because people kept asking me, A), Why are you carrying a portable CD player and B), you’re a woman, it’s not safe to be plugged in all of the time.

    Well, now I have an iPhone, sure my earphones are huge because I love listening to my music with my way too expensive earphones, and hate having things in my ears…but now, I am going to put these earphones on my head when I go out and listen to my music and maybe just maybe remember that feeling of being so lost in my music that I don’t notice that anxiety get me the fuck out of here feeling. I will take one earphone a bit off my ear for safety purposes. There.

    So thank you for sharing and reminding us to just do what we need to do *and take that reminder to heart yourself* and thank you to the little old lady singing her ass out to Queen!

  • Wow. Too bad you didn’t whip out your phone…that lady could very well have been the next YouTube sensation.

    (And PS, I can do the fan-dang-o).

  • I was gonna paste the litany against fear from Dune here, but my internet won’t let me, and that probably wasn’t the best response to such a hilarious story anyway.
    I still like Bohemian Rhapsody, but it’s not my favorite Queen song. That would either be “It’s Late” or “Hammer to Fall.”
    As someone who used to cook for his living, what do you do with micro-herbs? I know several uses for actual herbs, but aren’t “micro herbs” just herb sprouts? It doesn’t seem like they would have the oils and compounds in them that give herbs their flavor yet.
    Perhaps they are a salad or sandwich thing?
    The one around here with anxiety is the cat. The day before yesterday John’s girlfriend found an enormous, black dog wandering down the sidewalk in front of the house and suckered Briana into catching it an putting it in the back yard to keep it from wandering across the street where the off ramp to I-80 is. I thought it to be a bad idea, because if the dog made it here, he could probably make it home, but John’s girlfriend thought he had a collar on that might have a tag with a phone number to call, but it turned out to be a really old choke-chain with no tags at all.
    Anyway, after Craigslist and Facebook failed to find his owner, we contacted a shelter who said they will come and get him when they open tomorrow, which is a good thing because he won’t fit in either of our cars. Did I mention that he’s enormous?
    So now the cat is plexing hard about the monster in the back yard. Whenever she hears it outside the window, she puffs up and scampers for higher ground. She has been spending a lot of time on the ironing board, but her favorite sleeping spot for the time being is the storage loft in the garage, on top of an old mattress. No big hairy black monsters can get to her up there.
    So here’s a link to another Lucius song. I thought it was new, but they apparently wrote it in 2014, and it just happens to be very topical right about now.

    “Cross my heart, swear I’ll die
    If you won’t hear me
    I’m trying, trying just to sympathize
    Day after day we have the same conversation
    I’m not accustomed to this form of desperation
    I’m not accustomed to this form of desperation”

    It’s called “The Punisher” and I’m sort of obsessed with it right now, but in a good way:

  • I think I am one of those that knows all the words to Bohemian Rhapsody, have been singing it since I first heard it at 13….never tire of it
    I aspire to be that old lady in the store singing it out loud.

    good way to start a monday
    Scaramouche, motherfuckers

  • Here’s to reclaiming our badass selves! That’s the beauty of leaving our 30s and 40s behind. Time to take that fear and throttle the crap out of her. This is easier after I’ve had copious amounts of chocolate and coffee.

  • I love the way you write. I am with Haralee, I remember when people got sick on sprouts……….so no micro herbs for moi. I could have used a song from a rock’n Q tip. How fantastic! It is funny how something as simple as that can break the downward cycle of a day help us land back on the up!

  • Great post, Michelle. I hope you can either conquer or learn to live with whatever ails you. That lady sounded cool and exactly what you needed to get back in the zone. I have to admit, that song can be addicting. Its hard not to get drawn in.

  • I think the stars were aligned badly this week as I’ve been feeling much the same. Ha, Scaramouche mofos is going to be bouncing round my brain for a while now. Thanks for that, I need a battle cry. Tired of being taken for granted by just about everyone in my life so it’s about time Boadicea emerged again.

By Michelle


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