Wrangler Dani

Writer, editor, wife, adoptive mama and cowgirl living in beautiful Central Oregon.

The Seven Dwarves – Grumpy

In honor of it’s being Monday, and the joy that comes with Mondays, (especially ones that your teacher friends have off,) I’ve chosen Grumpy for today’s dwarf.

I know he’s not the most popular one, but he’s really just misunderstood, and we need him around to remind us how boring our complaints really are. After all, the air never smelled so sweet as when you come out of the feedlot, and life never looks so good as it does after an afternoon with the Grumpster. So, without further ado, what makes me Grumpy, in bulleted points. May this list inspire you with a fond love of life and growing things.

  • No caffeine. Headachey no fun.
  • When the square cup holders in Rocky rear their blocky heads and allow my coffee to tip over. Whoever engineered those was not so bright.
  • Being late.
  • Bad hair days. I have curly hair. Sometimes, I have frizzy, funky, flattish, gnarly hair. This makes me feel like dumping my head in a sink ala Freshman year and never coming out again.
  • When people randomly brake on open stretches of freeway. Are you serious?! It’s called a FREEway. As in, move FREEly. As in, don’t brake in the middle of it and kill us all, k?
  • Shallowness. The OC and I have a love/hate relationship. I love the gorgeous weather, great food, and the beach and mountains so close at hand. I don’t love episodes like this: Me, at the Tanning salon (yes, I went tanning, and yes, I understand that this kinda shoots a hole in my tirade against shallowness… but a girl can be tan and taken seriously, right?) Somehow, my stint in Texas comes up as I’m promising not to sue the salon if I burn. The girl behind the counter gets very excited about this. Girl, wearing way too much eyeshadow and sucking furiously on a chartruese candy: “So, like, I just have to know. I’m thinking about going to college in Texas, but… are people tan there? I just need to know for myself, you know? I like tan people.” I started to answer, “um… what?” but instead went on a tirade about how Texans are some of the most beautiful, welcoming people I’ve ever known, how most of my best friends and boyfriend are from there, and how it’s pretty much a promised land of friendly people, open skies and the American dream. When I was done, Tan Girl stared at me, twirled her bleach blonde hair around her finger and smacked on her candy. “Uh… ok. So, like, your bed’s ready.”
  • Losing things. I lose stuff a lot – and not random stuff like my memory box from 9th grade. That I can always find. What I can’t find (almost every morning,) are my keys, cell phone, sunglasses, etc. It’s a curse. (I bought an organizer for the purpose of improving in this area, but it hasn’t helped. Maybe it’s because I don’t actually put things in it.)
  • Smelling like fast food. I hate it when I go get something to eat and come out smelling like I jumped on the grill for a little afternoon simmer. Gross.
  • Cold coffee. Not like Frappucinos, but like bleh in the bottom of my mug.
  • Angsty teenage music. Every now and then if it brings back a memory or fills a void left in a particularly bad day, it’s OK. Most of the time? No go.
  • Telemarketers.
  • Buyer’s Remorse – or, what’s more typical with me, is BR’s lesser-known cousin, Why Didn’t I Buy That? Remorse
  • Being tired.
  • A messy bower. Bowers should be full of fruit, candles, wine, inspirational writing and lovely music, not dirty dishes, laundry, and dog-eared papers.

5 comments found

  1. Telemarketers: as in those who make annoying phone calls, not those who ski funny.
    It took me a moment to realize what you were talking about. You can tell I’ve been in Alaska too long. All I can think about is skiing.
    P.S. I like the dwarf series. Especially sneezy and the part about the bug in your nose. nice.

  2. And we’re a tan people too! You made it sound like you were avoiding the question, but we’re as tan as they come.

    Why would a person who skis funny be a telemarketer? …I don’t get it… Is it ’cause they’re annoying?

  3. what’s a bower? is that bad that i don’t know?

    adam… i’m sorry to let you know that you are not tan.

  5. According to the American Heritage Dictionary, a Bower is:

    1. A shaded, leafy recess; an arbor.
    2. A woman’s private chamber in a medieval castle; a boudoir.
    3. A rustic cottage; a country retreat.

    I use it to refer to my adorable, itty-bitty house in Dana Point, which pretty much perfectly embodies all of those descriptions, if I dare say so myself. (Well, maybe not an arbor… but a girl can dream.)

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