I have been babysitting since I was 12 years old. In fact, my best friend and I had a "Neighborhood Kids Carnival" on our deck when we were about 12, and collected money for Children's Hospital. All $41 that we collected went to dramatic research that I am sure helped in a break through for some horrible disease. They even threw us a party for our efforts (and I bet they used that $41 for the cake and ice cream!!)
The point of this blog is that I have always loved being around kids. I just think they are hilarious and always have a fresh perspective on life. I recently starting babysitting for the kids whose mom I met at my previous job. They are adorable little tow heads who are 2 years old and 9 months. The 2 year old turns 3 July 5, and the family is going to Disney World for her birthday. I walked into the house and it looked like Disney World had come to them. The little girl was running around with 3 or 4 balloons clipped to her dress. The best part was that every time one of the balloons touched the ceiling, it started singing "Happy Birthday!" The mom told me that the ballon was going to "accidentally" meet its demise that evening. There was also a princess dress sitting on the floor. The family is going to have a birthday breakfast at the castle, and the little girl will be wearing her princess dress.
I was keeping the kids for a few hours while their mom ran some errands. She suggested that I take them to the park in the stroller and let them play in this humongous sprinkler. Once we got the kids changed into their bathing suits and in the stroller, we headed for the park. I had already run 6.5 miles that morning, but didn't realize how difficult it is to push 2 children up and down hills in 90 degree weather. My hair was quickly up in a ponytail.
Once we got to the park, I couldn't figure out where the sprinkler was. The three year old kept telling me that we were headed the wrong way, and that I was supposed to stay on the sidewalk at all times. (Oops.) My favorite part of the day is when I asked "Guys, do you think we are going the right way?" The little girl replied, "Miss Jenny. We say y'all. We do NOT say 'guys!" Hilarious.
We finally got to the sprinkler and I realized that I was not dressed for the occassion. My new shirt from the Limited and khaki shorts were soaked and filthy in a matter of seconds, but it seemed like the kids were having fun. Then the breakdown began. I didn't give the baby anything to eat before we left and he started screaming. He may very well have been hot, tired or hungry, but thoughts of him dehydrating started flying through my head. I loaded up the kids, and the three year old was NOT happy because she didn't get to play on the swings. As the oldest, I understood her pain.
Walking back was exhausting. I had on cheap flip flops that kept digging into my feet, and we were headed uphill the entire way. I even heard a "Faster, faster!" from the little girl! When we got home, I saw mascara smeared all over my face, noticed that the girl only had one of her two bows in her hair and was pretty sure that we lost one of her pink shoes. Of course, as soon as I tried to feed the baby, he wanted nothing to with it.
We played "push Jenny down" for a little while, which was loads of fun. Honestly, if you can hear a little kid giggle that hard for rolling me onto the ground, it really is worth it. I was so tired when I got home I could barely keep my eyes open until 9 pm. These kids are adorable and so well behaved, but I don't know how you moms do it! I only had them for 3 hours!!
I used to tell Mike that I wanted 4 kids...time will tell.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Bachelor Pad
When I moved to STL, I was lucky enough to move into a beautiful condo that Mike purchased when he moved here. His mother is a wonderful interior decorator and decorated the place as well as she could with Mike's constant concern that the rooms would be too "girly." When I moved in, I brought lots of pictures and girly things that were suddenly ok to put out because "now a girl lives here." How a girl living in the condo makes it suddenly ok to own a magazine rack, I don't understand, but I went with it.
I have slowly been trying to add some warm touches to the very oatmeal and tan area. I wanted to paint some accent walls, but since we will be selling in close to a year, it seems as though it is not worth the trouble. I would have to paint the walls back to a neutral color as soon as I painted my maroon wall! I did get to go to Target the other day and buy some curtains which I am excited to put up, and always try to keep flowers on the table.
Ok, sorry if you are falling asleep, but I have to show you the part of the bachelor pad that Mike is most proud of, and that I cannot get rid of! This is what hangs in our bedroom.
It is hard to see through the pictures how monstrous this thing is. Aside from the fact that it is bigger than the television we have in the den, this movie screen extends and rotates on a metal arm. "This way we can see it perfectly from the bed!" Mike tells me. Yes, and so can everyone else that lives on our street.
I did not have a tv in my room growing up, and have to have complete quiet and darkness when I am trying to fall asleep. Clearly, this television poses a problem to my demands. After me complaining constantly about how loud the television was, I went and bought ear plugs. I have tried a variety of kinds, which also help with my significant other's constant snoring. In addition, I specially ordered an eye mask off the internet! The first one I bought was from Target, but was not thick enough to block out all the light from this television! I am happy with the one that I have now. (And it smells like Lilac, which is an added bonus!)
Have you seen the infomercial where the older couple is laying in bed and the wife is yelling, "Turn that down!" That is what our relationship was turning into. Thank goodness Mike's parents were gracious enough to give us their cordless headphones. These things have been a god-send. Only problem, the battery seems to last for about 5 minutes. We are still working on that small issue.
There are multiple other issues I could write about, that relate to turning a bachelor pad into a place where a girl WANTS to live, but I will save it for another day. Let's just say that right now we have a wall that is completely covered with pictures of outerspace. As my Grandma always says, "A woman's work is never done!"
Hope you have a wonderful Monday!
I have slowly been trying to add some warm touches to the very oatmeal and tan area. I wanted to paint some accent walls, but since we will be selling in close to a year, it seems as though it is not worth the trouble. I would have to paint the walls back to a neutral color as soon as I painted my maroon wall! I did get to go to Target the other day and buy some curtains which I am excited to put up, and always try to keep flowers on the table.
Ok, sorry if you are falling asleep, but I have to show you the part of the bachelor pad that Mike is most proud of, and that I cannot get rid of! This is what hangs in our bedroom.
It is hard to see through the pictures how monstrous this thing is. Aside from the fact that it is bigger than the television we have in the den, this movie screen extends and rotates on a metal arm. "This way we can see it perfectly from the bed!" Mike tells me. Yes, and so can everyone else that lives on our street.
I did not have a tv in my room growing up, and have to have complete quiet and darkness when I am trying to fall asleep. Clearly, this television poses a problem to my demands. After me complaining constantly about how loud the television was, I went and bought ear plugs. I have tried a variety of kinds, which also help with my significant other's constant snoring. In addition, I specially ordered an eye mask off the internet! The first one I bought was from Target, but was not thick enough to block out all the light from this television! I am happy with the one that I have now. (And it smells like Lilac, which is an added bonus!)
Have you seen the infomercial where the older couple is laying in bed and the wife is yelling, "Turn that down!" That is what our relationship was turning into. Thank goodness Mike's parents were gracious enough to give us their cordless headphones. These things have been a god-send. Only problem, the battery seems to last for about 5 minutes. We are still working on that small issue.
There are multiple other issues I could write about, that relate to turning a bachelor pad into a place where a girl WANTS to live, but I will save it for another day. Let's just say that right now we have a wall that is completely covered with pictures of outerspace. As my Grandma always says, "A woman's work is never done!"
Hope you have a wonderful Monday!
Friday, June 26, 2009
Transformers
I am here to give my critique of "Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen" or something like that. Last night Mike surprised me with an impromptu date night. We grabbed some pizza, returned some things back to the mall (the mall is giving us a lot of money back these days) and then went to see a movie. Since I "chose" the last movie (Angels & Demons) I was given a choice between Transformers and Terminator. Ugh. First of all, its not like "Angels & Demons" is some sort of sappy, romantic comedy that Mike had to sit through for 2 hours while the predictable lovers encounter a problem, but find they are meant for each other by the end. But somehow, I am now forced to choose between two movies where I am pretty sure the main characters are made out of metal.
Let me set the atmosphere for you. We were early so we were able to watch everyone file into the theatre. We had forgotten that it was summer and school was out. Where do you go when you can't drive? Ding, ding, ding!!! You are correct - your mom drops you off at the mall/movies. Mike and I were at least 15 years older than most people there. The other super great part was that they all seemed to know each other. They were running around, yelling across the seats and showing off for each other. Of course, three pre-teen boys sat next to me. Thriller. (That was a tribute to the late Michael Jackson.)
I am very strict with my rules when I am watching a movie. I must get to the movie before the previews begin. Check. I HATE it when people talk while the movie is playing, and quite honestly, I don't like it when they talk when the previews are rolling either. There have been too many stare downs between me and the person behind me when I ask them to please be quiet, so I am trying to loosen up, at least during the previews. Another thing that drives me crazy is when people pull their cell phones out to check their missed calls, or texts, during the movie. I feel like there is a spotlight coming from their seat into my eye and it really distracts me. Besides, if you are already there with friends, who else do you need to talk to? I understand an emergency, but I didn't see any tweens running out of the theater in a panic. They were probably texting each between each row!
So, once my new found 15 year friends sat down next to me, one of them started yelling to his friend, "Carter" across the room. Just the name, and for no obvious reason. I thought he might have Turrets Syndrome, because "Carter" was not answering back. Maybe this guy made up a friend. Who knows, but three different times during the movie, "Carter" was called. Next my buddy opened and closed his phone every minute of the 2 hour 30 minute long movie. Don't know who he was texting because "Carter" was just in the other row, but that drove me nuts. Mike taught me later that this was the 15 year old's way of "asserting his masculinity." Good thing he didn't ask me. I thought he looked stupid.
Now this is all BEFORE the movie even starts. Once we get through the previews and the movie begins, I think, "this may not be so bad. It seems humorous, and I got through most of the other one before I fell asleep." Suddenly Megan Fox comes onto the screen, straddling a motorcycle, wearing cut offs that didn't even look like there was anything left to cut. The ENTIRE movie theatre moaned. It was disgusting. I felt like I was in some dirty movie, when actually, Harry Potter was playing in the theater across from mine. "Carter's" friend beside me started to use some language that is not appropriate for a blog, a teenager, or really anyone. Mike and I just looked at each other and started laughing.
For the most part, the movie was fine. I would not suggest that you run out and see it, but if you do, please use your student discount as we do. (Hope you haven't thrown that away!) By the end I was getting tired of the incessant moaning and cursing next to me, and I couldn't tell who the bad metal monsters were in comparison to the good metal monsters. And why were they fighting again? Of course, Mike walked out thinking it was the most wonderful movie. Why do guys love movies with no plot, as long as multiple things are getting blown up? Who knows, why do we like dramatic movies, where someone dies at the end? Mars v. Venus. At least I get to pick the next movie!
Let me set the atmosphere for you. We were early so we were able to watch everyone file into the theatre. We had forgotten that it was summer and school was out. Where do you go when you can't drive? Ding, ding, ding!!! You are correct - your mom drops you off at the mall/movies. Mike and I were at least 15 years older than most people there. The other super great part was that they all seemed to know each other. They were running around, yelling across the seats and showing off for each other. Of course, three pre-teen boys sat next to me. Thriller. (That was a tribute to the late Michael Jackson.)
I am very strict with my rules when I am watching a movie. I must get to the movie before the previews begin. Check. I HATE it when people talk while the movie is playing, and quite honestly, I don't like it when they talk when the previews are rolling either. There have been too many stare downs between me and the person behind me when I ask them to please be quiet, so I am trying to loosen up, at least during the previews. Another thing that drives me crazy is when people pull their cell phones out to check their missed calls, or texts, during the movie. I feel like there is a spotlight coming from their seat into my eye and it really distracts me. Besides, if you are already there with friends, who else do you need to talk to? I understand an emergency, but I didn't see any tweens running out of the theater in a panic. They were probably texting each between each row!
So, once my new found 15 year friends sat down next to me, one of them started yelling to his friend, "Carter" across the room. Just the name, and for no obvious reason. I thought he might have Turrets Syndrome, because "Carter" was not answering back. Maybe this guy made up a friend. Who knows, but three different times during the movie, "Carter" was called. Next my buddy opened and closed his phone every minute of the 2 hour 30 minute long movie. Don't know who he was texting because "Carter" was just in the other row, but that drove me nuts. Mike taught me later that this was the 15 year old's way of "asserting his masculinity." Good thing he didn't ask me. I thought he looked stupid.
Now this is all BEFORE the movie even starts. Once we get through the previews and the movie begins, I think, "this may not be so bad. It seems humorous, and I got through most of the other one before I fell asleep." Suddenly Megan Fox comes onto the screen, straddling a motorcycle, wearing cut offs that didn't even look like there was anything left to cut. The ENTIRE movie theatre moaned. It was disgusting. I felt like I was in some dirty movie, when actually, Harry Potter was playing in the theater across from mine. "Carter's" friend beside me started to use some language that is not appropriate for a blog, a teenager, or really anyone. Mike and I just looked at each other and started laughing.
For the most part, the movie was fine. I would not suggest that you run out and see it, but if you do, please use your student discount as we do. (Hope you haven't thrown that away!) By the end I was getting tired of the incessant moaning and cursing next to me, and I couldn't tell who the bad metal monsters were in comparison to the good metal monsters. And why were they fighting again? Of course, Mike walked out thinking it was the most wonderful movie. Why do guys love movies with no plot, as long as multiple things are getting blown up? Who knows, why do we like dramatic movies, where someone dies at the end? Mars v. Venus. At least I get to pick the next movie!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
I Have a Confession
I am dating a boy from New Jersey. How in the world a southern belle like me fell in love with the typical Jersey boy is still something Mike and I laugh about, but it happened. I watched The Real Housewive of New Jersey this season, and I am here to tell y'all, this stuff is real!
Mike and I met through mutual friends. My roommate was friends with his roommate, and both these roommates were from SOUTH Alabama. I just assumed that Mike was also from the South. He didn't ever have the eye swoop haircut that many southern boys have, but he went to University of Alabama, and how would you get there if you were from up North? Although he told me he was born in New Jersey, and that his entire extended family still lives there, it really didn't phase me. I had never been to visit the Garden State, but seriously, what could be so different? Oh there are differences. The first red flag was when he picked me up for our first date. He was super cute, dressed to a tee, and you could tell he was very nervous. I gave him a tour of our house, introduced him to my three roommates and then we headed to his car. I knew my roommates were watching from the upstairs window; a routine we practiced when any roommate was taken out by a new suitor.
First mistake. Mike did NOT OPEN THE CAR DOOR FOR ME! I stood outside waiting, and realized he was already inside with the car on. "Oooh, I thought." I am going to hear about this later. We had a lovely dinner and he later dropped me off. I think the roughest patch we had was during out first year of dating. While most couples are going through that lovey-dovey infatuation phase, I was trying to figure out if the things Mike was saying to me were really "just joking" or if he was meaning to hurt my feelings. I can't recall any of the comments, but I stuck through it. I grew up with no brothers for goodness sakes! I don't what to do when people start teasing me! Even this summer, Mike's father said to me, "OH! She can take a joke!" Yes, I can take one, I just have to know when it is being offered!
If you have been watching the New Jersey Housewives, you may remember that they are all Italian, and have this "blood is thicker than water" mentality. I was never physically nervous that Mike's family wouldn't like me until I started watching the show 6 years after we started dating! Mike's mother is 100% Italian and she is phenomenal. She cooks, she cleans and she takes care of her family like it is nobody's business. When Mike and I started taking trips together, he would ask me to pack his suitcase, or pick out his outfits. WHAT?? I had never heard of this before. My feminist side was screaming that this was completely out of character, and most of the time the request led to a fight. Now, I do pick out his clothes when he asks because, let's be honest, he can't really dress himself! (sorry babe.)
Another thing that is serious in the Italian, New Jersey family is cooking. Oh lord. Maybe that gives you some insight into why I have been trying to be "Top Chef" since I moved in. Half the time the things we eat are acknowledged this way. "I really like it, but it isn't really like my mom's...." So I call up "mama" and get the recipe. I figure that is the easiest way to deal with it. Only a few months ago, a received a letter in the mail from Mrs. C. Inside was the "secret family sauce" that traces back to Southern Italy, or "The Old Country." This was a BIG step in our relationship!
After I saw the Housewive's episode where one of the females FLIPPED a table, I called Mike in a panic and asked if anyone in his family had ever done that. "NO!" he says. "That show is over the top!" "Really?" I asked, "because it sure seemed normal for the people involved up there! They said everyone flips a table once or twice in their life!!"
I have now been to Jersey for 2 weddings, which were incredible. Beautiful and elegant, probably two of the nicest I have ever been to. However, it was the experience of being in the state that was tough for me to handle. I bought a shirt that said, "New Jersey: Only the Strong Survive" but Mike wouldn't let me wear it because he said people would probably throw things at me. WHAT? Where was I going? Both times we went to visit, it was winter, with snow on the ground. (You know I am not used to that!!) As soon as we got out of the airport, the inner Jerseyness of Mike's family was no longer dormant. Accents and phrases came out that I have never heard before...I wish you could hear them. "Pain in the Ass" is a time honored one. Additionally, we are weaving in and out of traffic, while people scream and honk their horns for no reason! Again - where am I??
Mike and I stopped at a deli to get something to eat. I remember trying to figure out what I wanted and hearing a lot of "Alright already! Hurry it up!" This very well may have been my boyfriend in all his Jersey glory, but after that I was pretty much scared to talk in public. The locals couldn't understand my southern accent, and half the time, I couldn't understand them. It was just better for everyone that I stayed quiet.
Now I am writing this with only from the what I have gathered from people I have met in NJ, and the always realiable source on Bravo, The Real Housewives. I am sure (maybe) that there are people in New Jersey that do not fit into this stereotype, but I have to say, if you do, it is pretty hilarious. It is a whole other world that I just don't seem to fit into!
Mike and I met through mutual friends. My roommate was friends with his roommate, and both these roommates were from SOUTH Alabama. I just assumed that Mike was also from the South. He didn't ever have the eye swoop haircut that many southern boys have, but he went to University of Alabama, and how would you get there if you were from up North? Although he told me he was born in New Jersey, and that his entire extended family still lives there, it really didn't phase me. I had never been to visit the Garden State, but seriously, what could be so different? Oh there are differences. The first red flag was when he picked me up for our first date. He was super cute, dressed to a tee, and you could tell he was very nervous. I gave him a tour of our house, introduced him to my three roommates and then we headed to his car. I knew my roommates were watching from the upstairs window; a routine we practiced when any roommate was taken out by a new suitor.
First mistake. Mike did NOT OPEN THE CAR DOOR FOR ME! I stood outside waiting, and realized he was already inside with the car on. "Oooh, I thought." I am going to hear about this later. We had a lovely dinner and he later dropped me off. I think the roughest patch we had was during out first year of dating. While most couples are going through that lovey-dovey infatuation phase, I was trying to figure out if the things Mike was saying to me were really "just joking" or if he was meaning to hurt my feelings. I can't recall any of the comments, but I stuck through it. I grew up with no brothers for goodness sakes! I don't what to do when people start teasing me! Even this summer, Mike's father said to me, "OH! She can take a joke!" Yes, I can take one, I just have to know when it is being offered!
If you have been watching the New Jersey Housewives, you may remember that they are all Italian, and have this "blood is thicker than water" mentality. I was never physically nervous that Mike's family wouldn't like me until I started watching the show 6 years after we started dating! Mike's mother is 100% Italian and she is phenomenal. She cooks, she cleans and she takes care of her family like it is nobody's business. When Mike and I started taking trips together, he would ask me to pack his suitcase, or pick out his outfits. WHAT?? I had never heard of this before. My feminist side was screaming that this was completely out of character, and most of the time the request led to a fight. Now, I do pick out his clothes when he asks because, let's be honest, he can't really dress himself! (sorry babe.)
Another thing that is serious in the Italian, New Jersey family is cooking. Oh lord. Maybe that gives you some insight into why I have been trying to be "Top Chef" since I moved in. Half the time the things we eat are acknowledged this way. "I really like it, but it isn't really like my mom's...." So I call up "mama" and get the recipe. I figure that is the easiest way to deal with it. Only a few months ago, a received a letter in the mail from Mrs. C. Inside was the "secret family sauce" that traces back to Southern Italy, or "The Old Country." This was a BIG step in our relationship!
After I saw the Housewive's episode where one of the females FLIPPED a table, I called Mike in a panic and asked if anyone in his family had ever done that. "NO!" he says. "That show is over the top!" "Really?" I asked, "because it sure seemed normal for the people involved up there! They said everyone flips a table once or twice in their life!!"
I have now been to Jersey for 2 weddings, which were incredible. Beautiful and elegant, probably two of the nicest I have ever been to. However, it was the experience of being in the state that was tough for me to handle. I bought a shirt that said, "New Jersey: Only the Strong Survive" but Mike wouldn't let me wear it because he said people would probably throw things at me. WHAT? Where was I going? Both times we went to visit, it was winter, with snow on the ground. (You know I am not used to that!!) As soon as we got out of the airport, the inner Jerseyness of Mike's family was no longer dormant. Accents and phrases came out that I have never heard before...I wish you could hear them. "Pain in the Ass" is a time honored one. Additionally, we are weaving in and out of traffic, while people scream and honk their horns for no reason! Again - where am I??
Mike and I stopped at a deli to get something to eat. I remember trying to figure out what I wanted and hearing a lot of "Alright already! Hurry it up!" This very well may have been my boyfriend in all his Jersey glory, but after that I was pretty much scared to talk in public. The locals couldn't understand my southern accent, and half the time, I couldn't understand them. It was just better for everyone that I stayed quiet.
Now I am writing this with only from the what I have gathered from people I have met in NJ, and the always realiable source on Bravo, The Real Housewives. I am sure (maybe) that there are people in New Jersey that do not fit into this stereotype, but I have to say, if you do, it is pretty hilarious. It is a whole other world that I just don't seem to fit into!
Monday, June 22, 2009
And My Role is...?
If you have been reading my blog, you know that I am recently unemployed. This leaves me at home as a...what? I am not a housewife, as I have no children and am missing that little legal document that would confirm my status as a wife. So, I have become a house co-habitator. This is an interesting role, as it is very boring, yet stressful at the same time.
I have no idea how mothers run households. I called my mother today to tell her that running a household was tough. She didn't say anything, but I'm sure she was thinking, "What exactly are you running up there?" I am suddenly in a role where I have no excuse not to complete tasks because I have been at work all day. Suddenly, the laundry is there, waiting on me to fold and put it away. I actually love to iron, so that is not much of an issue, but what about this whole cooking thing?
It never phased me when our family of 5 sat down for dinner and immediately 4 voices chimed in complaining that they didn't like something, or that "We just ate this the other day." My youngest sister refused to eat anything green and/or crunchy (that is every vegetable.) I'm sure my mother loved it when I began gagging on something that she made for dinner. (That really did happen..and I never had to eat THAT dish again!) As a co-habitator, I feel it is important to provide a healthy dinner for myself and my other co-habitator. Does anyone else feel that if you have proceeded to plan out a week's worth of recipes, go to the grocery store and create a new dinner each night, that complaining about the food should not be allowed? (Mom - I am so sorry.)
Tonight I made pesto, and added chicken and tomatoes to the sauce. I poured it over pasta, whipped together some bread and a salad and felt pretty good about my creation. I think this is the first night we have really had a dinner bomb. I looked over and Mike was pushing his food around his plate like a 5 year old. He had consumed his entire salad (this is rare) and still looked as though he knew he had to eat the pasta and wasn't sure how he was going to get out of it. When he asked me, "Is this algae?" I didn't know how to respond. I actually started laughing because it really wasn't that good in the first place, but that was not the thank you I was expecting!
In addition to providing balanced meals, a co-habitator also takes on the role of all correspondence and any other projects that do not include manual labor. (I have been banned from putting up curtain rods, although I am quite sure I would do a fabulous job.) I return phone calls, answer wedding invitations, and mail out packages. Let's be honest. How exciting can this position get? I think if I had a little one to run around with it may be a different story. My mom reminded me that babies don't talk. I don't need anyone talking to me - I talk to my cat! It would just give me something to do!
Today I drove out to T.J. Max to return some clothes for Mike. It was only when I was 30 minutes out that I realized I was following directions for a place I have to go tomorrow! I called Mike in a panic, and he was able to find a T.J. Max close to me. After all that drama, I had to get myself a Frosty from Wendy's!
I apologize that this post seems to be a stream of consciousness, but that is the way my life feels right now. I am making small lists of things to do each day. Tomorrow - return my new white jeans (apparently fashion is not of high importance when you are poor) and hopefully find Nordstrom's to return another item Mike did not like. Maybe I will even attempt a new recipe.
I think it is time for me to find another job.
I have no idea how mothers run households. I called my mother today to tell her that running a household was tough. She didn't say anything, but I'm sure she was thinking, "What exactly are you running up there?" I am suddenly in a role where I have no excuse not to complete tasks because I have been at work all day. Suddenly, the laundry is there, waiting on me to fold and put it away. I actually love to iron, so that is not much of an issue, but what about this whole cooking thing?
It never phased me when our family of 5 sat down for dinner and immediately 4 voices chimed in complaining that they didn't like something, or that "We just ate this the other day." My youngest sister refused to eat anything green and/or crunchy (that is every vegetable.) I'm sure my mother loved it when I began gagging on something that she made for dinner. (That really did happen..and I never had to eat THAT dish again!) As a co-habitator, I feel it is important to provide a healthy dinner for myself and my other co-habitator. Does anyone else feel that if you have proceeded to plan out a week's worth of recipes, go to the grocery store and create a new dinner each night, that complaining about the food should not be allowed? (Mom - I am so sorry.)
Tonight I made pesto, and added chicken and tomatoes to the sauce. I poured it over pasta, whipped together some bread and a salad and felt pretty good about my creation. I think this is the first night we have really had a dinner bomb. I looked over and Mike was pushing his food around his plate like a 5 year old. He had consumed his entire salad (this is rare) and still looked as though he knew he had to eat the pasta and wasn't sure how he was going to get out of it. When he asked me, "Is this algae?" I didn't know how to respond. I actually started laughing because it really wasn't that good in the first place, but that was not the thank you I was expecting!
In addition to providing balanced meals, a co-habitator also takes on the role of all correspondence and any other projects that do not include manual labor. (I have been banned from putting up curtain rods, although I am quite sure I would do a fabulous job.) I return phone calls, answer wedding invitations, and mail out packages. Let's be honest. How exciting can this position get? I think if I had a little one to run around with it may be a different story. My mom reminded me that babies don't talk. I don't need anyone talking to me - I talk to my cat! It would just give me something to do!
Today I drove out to T.J. Max to return some clothes for Mike. It was only when I was 30 minutes out that I realized I was following directions for a place I have to go tomorrow! I called Mike in a panic, and he was able to find a T.J. Max close to me. After all that drama, I had to get myself a Frosty from Wendy's!
I apologize that this post seems to be a stream of consciousness, but that is the way my life feels right now. I am making small lists of things to do each day. Tomorrow - return my new white jeans (apparently fashion is not of high importance when you are poor) and hopefully find Nordstrom's to return another item Mike did not like. Maybe I will even attempt a new recipe.
I think it is time for me to find another job.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Happy Father's Day Daddy!
My father and I have an interesting relationship. My mother always says that we are the same person, just the male and female version of each other. As you can imagine, this could lead to some butting of heads (especially in my teenage years!) But, instead of focusing on the crazy disagreements we may have had, I want to focus on how much my father has positively influenced my life.
As the oldest child, I like to consider myself my father's favorite. (This has not been confirmed by either parent but this is what I tell myself.) Ever since I was little dad and I have had a special bond. I think this partly because we mentally process things in the same way. When I was given the opportunity to be in the kitchen learning how to cook, or outside learning the difference between a Phillips Head and a flat head screwdriver, I opted for the latter. Because there are three girls in our family, my father never had the opportunity to show his son how to throw a baseball or play football. That's where I came in. Unfortunately, I played softball, basketball and swam, but never was the athlete a Blackburn son may have become. (They made up a position for me in softball.)
But my father continued to be my biggest fan (along with my mother!) He has always encouraged me in everything I have done, and been there for me when things didn't really work out the way I expected. We have a closeness where I feel comfortable talking to him about boys and relationships, which I think is rare between a father and daughter. I truly feel that I can come to him with any issue in my life and he will give me thoughtful and truthful advice.
Again, living in a home with 4 women cannot have been easy for my father. I think he was subtly influenced with all the estrogen and doesn't blink an eye when spontaneous crying breaks out. Once I left home, I was surprised to find that the majority of men are not wired this way.
I have many fond memories of my father, which would take too long to write. I just want to acknowledge that my dad has helped mold me into what I am today. (You can decide whether this is for good or bad! :-)) He has cheered me on, sat while I cried on his shoulder, and listened while I tried to sort out what choices I needed to make to get my life in order. One of the most important things my father taught me is that he believes I can do anything I set my mind to. This may have resulted in stubborness on my part, but also taught me to never quit, because eventually I will succeed in the goal that I have set for myself. My dad has been my hero for the last 28 years, and I have held every boy I have ever dated to this standard. (Thank goodness Mike and dad clicked immediately!) I love you daddy and hope you know I am
As the oldest child, I like to consider myself my father's favorite. (This has not been confirmed by either parent but this is what I tell myself.) Ever since I was little dad and I have had a special bond. I think this partly because we mentally process things in the same way. When I was given the opportunity to be in the kitchen learning how to cook, or outside learning the difference between a Phillips Head and a flat head screwdriver, I opted for the latter. Because there are three girls in our family, my father never had the opportunity to show his son how to throw a baseball or play football. That's where I came in. Unfortunately, I played softball, basketball and swam, but never was the athlete a Blackburn son may have become. (They made up a position for me in softball.)
But my father continued to be my biggest fan (along with my mother!) He has always encouraged me in everything I have done, and been there for me when things didn't really work out the way I expected. We have a closeness where I feel comfortable talking to him about boys and relationships, which I think is rare between a father and daughter. I truly feel that I can come to him with any issue in my life and he will give me thoughtful and truthful advice.
Again, living in a home with 4 women cannot have been easy for my father. I think he was subtly influenced with all the estrogen and doesn't blink an eye when spontaneous crying breaks out. Once I left home, I was surprised to find that the majority of men are not wired this way.
I have many fond memories of my father, which would take too long to write. I just want to acknowledge that my dad has helped mold me into what I am today. (You can decide whether this is for good or bad! :-)) He has cheered me on, sat while I cried on his shoulder, and listened while I tried to sort out what choices I needed to make to get my life in order. One of the most important things my father taught me is that he believes I can do anything I set my mind to. This may have resulted in stubborness on my part, but also taught me to never quit, because eventually I will succeed in the goal that I have set for myself. My dad has been my hero for the last 28 years, and I have held every boy I have ever dated to this standard. (Thank goodness Mike and dad clicked immediately!) I love you daddy and hope you know I am
thankful for you everyday, not just once a year!!
.
Friday, June 19, 2009
I Quit....
So I am once again unemployed. After a lot of thought and rehearsing what I was going to say over the dinner table, I quit my job. When we were notified that our store was closing about six weeks ago, we were told that we would either receive a severence package or be relocated to another Pottery Barn store. A number for our regional manager was posted "To please call with any questions" but when my co-workers called, she never seemed to get back to them. Additionally, I began to hear rumors that there were no openings at any of the other stores, so relocation was truly not an option.
Almost every day for the last month, we have asked our store managers what our severence package would look like, but no one seemed to have a clue. I understand and am realistic - I know that I have only been working with this company for nine months, but I did expect some sort of compensation, as we are all being thrown back into the world of unemployment. (By the way, I was employee of the month in April! Shouldn't that count for something?)
I began to think about what I wanted to ask this manager when she came for her visit. I felt like I had been told lies to maintain my employment with the store until it closed. When I got to work today I asked to speak with "Jane." I asked her about my severence package and she said that she had no idea what the amount would be. When I reminded her that we were promised a two week notice of what the compensation would look like, she suddenly was able to tell me. 10 hours. That is what we are getting paid. This is based on the "average employee's work week." I tried to stay calm and explain that I was working at least 20 -30 hours a week, and this was not a fair package. I understand that life is not fair, but come on! This was a slap in the face.
I also confronted Jane about the lack of jobs available for relocation. She apologized and then tried to tell me the economony is not doing well, so it is hard to place people in new environments. Now my blood is boiling. Does she not think that I am aware that the economy is crap? Does she know that I have a graduate degree and cannot find a job anywhere?? Of course she doesn't, but I felt like she was being very condescending.
Finally, I asked why I was scheduled to work 25 hours next week when our store is supposed to close on Sunday. (The store looks like a flea market, and people are treating it as such. There is a strong possibility today would be our last day open to the public.) "Oh!" She replied. "You will be cleaning floors, and driving merchandise back and forth between this store and the other store." Nope. That's when I told her today would be my final day. Are you kidding me? Scrubbing floors? I don't think that is what I had in mind when I signed my contract, and I can assure you that I would rather be scrubbing floors at home (I don't do that anyway) than doing it in the mall for a 10 hour compensation package.
I stayed for a few more hours until it was evident that there were enough employees to take care of all 2 customers that were in the store. As a final "kick you while you're down" moment, my manager asked for my discount card on my way. I told him I lost it. I am sure that you can find a way to stop me from buying towels at a discount through the computer.
I came home and started pacing around the house. Did I do the right thing? What in the heck am I going to do with myself now? I was still walking around and stopping to stare at random spots in the condo when Mike got home. As soon as he came back, I fell apart, and then decided to get in the bed. (What else could I do? We didn't have any ice cream!) So, now I am going to take a night to relax and deal with my semi-dramatic life in the morning. All I know at this point is that I am glad we are stocked up on Raman Noodles.
Almost every day for the last month, we have asked our store managers what our severence package would look like, but no one seemed to have a clue. I understand and am realistic - I know that I have only been working with this company for nine months, but I did expect some sort of compensation, as we are all being thrown back into the world of unemployment. (By the way, I was employee of the month in April! Shouldn't that count for something?)
I began to think about what I wanted to ask this manager when she came for her visit. I felt like I had been told lies to maintain my employment with the store until it closed. When I got to work today I asked to speak with "Jane." I asked her about my severence package and she said that she had no idea what the amount would be. When I reminded her that we were promised a two week notice of what the compensation would look like, she suddenly was able to tell me. 10 hours. That is what we are getting paid. This is based on the "average employee's work week." I tried to stay calm and explain that I was working at least 20 -30 hours a week, and this was not a fair package. I understand that life is not fair, but come on! This was a slap in the face.
I also confronted Jane about the lack of jobs available for relocation. She apologized and then tried to tell me the economony is not doing well, so it is hard to place people in new environments. Now my blood is boiling. Does she not think that I am aware that the economy is crap? Does she know that I have a graduate degree and cannot find a job anywhere?? Of course she doesn't, but I felt like she was being very condescending.
Finally, I asked why I was scheduled to work 25 hours next week when our store is supposed to close on Sunday. (The store looks like a flea market, and people are treating it as such. There is a strong possibility today would be our last day open to the public.) "Oh!" She replied. "You will be cleaning floors, and driving merchandise back and forth between this store and the other store." Nope. That's when I told her today would be my final day. Are you kidding me? Scrubbing floors? I don't think that is what I had in mind when I signed my contract, and I can assure you that I would rather be scrubbing floors at home (I don't do that anyway) than doing it in the mall for a 10 hour compensation package.
I stayed for a few more hours until it was evident that there were enough employees to take care of all 2 customers that were in the store. As a final "kick you while you're down" moment, my manager asked for my discount card on my way. I told him I lost it. I am sure that you can find a way to stop me from buying towels at a discount through the computer.
I came home and started pacing around the house. Did I do the right thing? What in the heck am I going to do with myself now? I was still walking around and stopping to stare at random spots in the condo when Mike got home. As soon as he came back, I fell apart, and then decided to get in the bed. (What else could I do? We didn't have any ice cream!) So, now I am going to take a night to relax and deal with my semi-dramatic life in the morning. All I know at this point is that I am glad we are stocked up on Raman Noodles.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
26.2 What??
A friend of mine here in St. Louis, and I, convinced each other a few months ago to sign up for the Chicago marathon. At the time, it seemed like a brilliant idea. We had ample time to train - the race is October 11th - and I have always said that I wanted to complete the 26.2 miles. I paid my $115 entry fee and thought I was on my way. Today during my run, I began to get scared.
My friend Ellen and I trained for the Mercedes Marathon in Birmingham, 2003, but I ended up running the half (13.1 miles) because I was having hip problems. I was never able to experience that feeling of accomplishment I saw in my friend when she crossed the finish line. She actually started crying, and although I am not sure if it was relief, pain or happiness, I have always wanted to experience these feelings for myself. Since then, I have been talking about how I am going to run a marathon, but haven't actually committed to it. The problem with committing to a training program is that it is for an extended period of time, and it is rigorous. I cannot tell you how many times Ellen came into my room at 5:30 am to get me up for our runs. I am so not a morning person. I always asked her, "Are you sure you want to go?" or I pretended to be in a deep sleep. But we ran, rain or shine, and transformed our bodies into the machines needed to conquer these miles.
Later that year when Mike and I met, I told him I was training for a marathon. I think we both told a little white lie to impress each other. He told me that he loved to run (he has never run a day in his life) and I never actually completed that marathon I was training for. Since then, he has not believed me when I told him that "this year is the year of the marathon."
However, the money is paid and I just need to get my body in shape. Some time ago, I read that running marathons reduces your life span by seven years. I am extremely gullible, so I took that statistic and ran (no pun intended) with it. Then I started thinking - if you get run over by a bus, are people going to say, "Man, if only she hadn't run that marathon, she would have another seven years." Let's be honest, I don't really see the negatives to a long distance run.
I know it is going to be grueling. I ran four miles (only 22.2 to go) today, in the sweltering heat. After 25 minutes, I thought I was going to faint, and at 35 minutes, I was pretty sure I might throw up. I am attributing some of this to my enormous intake of coffee today, combined with lack of water, however, considering it is only early June, I cannot see this summer training being "comfortable." But I am going to do this. I am going to cross the finish line, regardless of how long it takes me. Everyone that I have spoken with that has completed this daunting task has told me I will become addicted to the thrill of finishing the race. We shall see. In the meantime, I need more songs for my I-Pod. I know that I don't have enough to entertain me for at least 4 hours, and would love to hear your suggestions for good, inspirational work out music. I already have "Born to Run" by Springsteen on there....would love to hear your thoughts!!
My friend Ellen and I trained for the Mercedes Marathon in Birmingham, 2003, but I ended up running the half (13.1 miles) because I was having hip problems. I was never able to experience that feeling of accomplishment I saw in my friend when she crossed the finish line. She actually started crying, and although I am not sure if it was relief, pain or happiness, I have always wanted to experience these feelings for myself. Since then, I have been talking about how I am going to run a marathon, but haven't actually committed to it. The problem with committing to a training program is that it is for an extended period of time, and it is rigorous. I cannot tell you how many times Ellen came into my room at 5:30 am to get me up for our runs. I am so not a morning person. I always asked her, "Are you sure you want to go?" or I pretended to be in a deep sleep. But we ran, rain or shine, and transformed our bodies into the machines needed to conquer these miles.
Later that year when Mike and I met, I told him I was training for a marathon. I think we both told a little white lie to impress each other. He told me that he loved to run (he has never run a day in his life) and I never actually completed that marathon I was training for. Since then, he has not believed me when I told him that "this year is the year of the marathon."
However, the money is paid and I just need to get my body in shape. Some time ago, I read that running marathons reduces your life span by seven years. I am extremely gullible, so I took that statistic and ran (no pun intended) with it. Then I started thinking - if you get run over by a bus, are people going to say, "Man, if only she hadn't run that marathon, she would have another seven years." Let's be honest, I don't really see the negatives to a long distance run.
I know it is going to be grueling. I ran four miles (only 22.2 to go) today, in the sweltering heat. After 25 minutes, I thought I was going to faint, and at 35 minutes, I was pretty sure I might throw up. I am attributing some of this to my enormous intake of coffee today, combined with lack of water, however, considering it is only early June, I cannot see this summer training being "comfortable." But I am going to do this. I am going to cross the finish line, regardless of how long it takes me. Everyone that I have spoken with that has completed this daunting task has told me I will become addicted to the thrill of finishing the race. We shall see. In the meantime, I need more songs for my I-Pod. I know that I don't have enough to entertain me for at least 4 hours, and would love to hear your suggestions for good, inspirational work out music. I already have "Born to Run" by Springsteen on there....would love to hear your thoughts!!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Am I Getting Old?
I receive People magazine every week. I know that it is trashy and I shouldn't be interested in pictures and stories of people that I don't know, but I have always had this guilty pleasure. To this day, Mike has never bought a tabloid magazine for me. He thinks they are an invasion of privacy and I should be spending my time and money on something else. Ahhh, men and women are so different.
Lately however, I have been troubled when I open the glossy cover to engage in 45 minutes of pure oogling and gossip. I do not recognize these celebrities anymore!! Is this happening to anyone else? I remember the days when I felt as though I knew each celebrity personally - albeit through E! television or my trashy magazines. Now the kids in the magazines are 10 years younger than me singing songs and making millions.
I preferred it when I opened the cover and all the celebrities were my age or older. My freshman year of high school, I was 100% certain that if Brad Pitt and I were to have a chance encounter, he would immediately fall in love with me and we would live happily ever after. My behavior actually got a little stalkerish and it is probably for the best that we never met. Every week, my love was on the cover of some magazine at the CVS. I went home, read the articles and immediately cut out the pictures of Brad to tape onto my wall. (I am sure my parents loved this.) I watched with anticipation who he was dating, and clipped a picture with he and Gweneth Paltrow to join my collage. Then I clipped Gweneth's head and pasted a picture of me in it's place!
I do not remember how long the Shrine to Brad lasted, but it was at least a full school year. Slowly though, Brad was no longer the Sexiest Man Alive, and other, younger men began to take his place. You can imagine my excitement when I received my People magazine this week and he and Angelina were on the cover! Finally the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cirus have some serious competition! I had to write a quick blog about these thoughts, but now must get back to read"The REAL Story" behind all the Jolie-Pitt relationship rumors. I will keep you posted!
Lately however, I have been troubled when I open the glossy cover to engage in 45 minutes of pure oogling and gossip. I do not recognize these celebrities anymore!! Is this happening to anyone else? I remember the days when I felt as though I knew each celebrity personally - albeit through E! television or my trashy magazines. Now the kids in the magazines are 10 years younger than me singing songs and making millions.
I preferred it when I opened the cover and all the celebrities were my age or older. My freshman year of high school, I was 100% certain that if Brad Pitt and I were to have a chance encounter, he would immediately fall in love with me and we would live happily ever after. My behavior actually got a little stalkerish and it is probably for the best that we never met. Every week, my love was on the cover of some magazine at the CVS. I went home, read the articles and immediately cut out the pictures of Brad to tape onto my wall. (I am sure my parents loved this.) I watched with anticipation who he was dating, and clipped a picture with he and Gweneth Paltrow to join my collage. Then I clipped Gweneth's head and pasted a picture of me in it's place!
I do not remember how long the Shrine to Brad lasted, but it was at least a full school year. Slowly though, Brad was no longer the Sexiest Man Alive, and other, younger men began to take his place. You can imagine my excitement when I received my People magazine this week and he and Angelina were on the cover! Finally the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cirus have some serious competition! I had to write a quick blog about these thoughts, but now must get back to read"The REAL Story" behind all the Jolie-Pitt relationship rumors. I will keep you posted!
Monday, June 15, 2009
A Small Tribute
I am writing two posts tonight. Partly because I can't sleep, and partly because I want to get everything down before I move on to different subjects and the stories are irrelevant. As you know, I was in Birmingham over the weekend and had the pleasure of meeting up with four of my very closest friends. I believe that it is extremely rare to find friends that click with you when you are 11, and still have something in common with you almost 20 years later. I am lucky enough to have four of them.
As I said earlier, I came to Birmingham to meet my best friend's new boyfriend. This friend is even more of a diamond in the rough. We have known each other since we were 2, and have been by each other's side ever since. Since we grew up together, have fought like sisters and know everything about each other, it was only natural that I meet, and later interrogate her new boyfriend. (Again Em - sorry about the "late night" questioning! For the readers...my liquid courage made me ask some questions that were absolutely none of my business!)
With everyone in town in once, there was cause for celebration!. We had drinks, dinner and more drinks. When the new boyfriend walked into the bar, I felt a little sorry for him. We had been waiting on him all night, thinking seriously about what we would ask him. He probably thought he had walked into the lion's den. We all sat and stared at him, waiting intently for him to say something. After a minute, we began firing questions. Only the best for our friend!! I have to say, he passed with flying colors.
And so the tribute begins. Usually one has friends that serve different purposes in your life. You have the friend that you know will make you laugh when you are upset, but another who will simply listen to you cry. You have the friend who tells you to get over it and find something else to focus your energy on, while another encourages you to pursue dreams that you never thought possible. There is the one who will keep your secret until the end of time, and the one who has known your family forever, and knows what questions to ask and what questions to avoid. The best thing about my friends is that they do not have one of these qualities. Each young lady encompasses all of them.
I love spending time with my childhood friends because we laugh until our stomachs and faces hurt, usually reminiscing about high school and middle school. We catch up on everyone's life and their latest accomplishments, and throw in a little gossip too! The best thing about these girls is that I can spend 6 months without corresponding with them, but as soon as we see each other, it is like it has only been a few hours since our last meeting. Thank you ladies for your friendship - it means the world to me!!
(And yes, I know. I am only friends with attractive people!)
I Am Pavlov's Dog
Do you ever think about how many things you have been conditioned to do? As soon as someone pulls out a camera, do you immediately smile, or even say cheese? (I actually smile even when I am behind the camera taking the picture.) When someone sneezes, don't you immediately say, "Bless you" or something to that affect? I think the majority of our conditioning is taught as we are growing up, and is generally more positive than not. However, I realized today that I have negatively conditioned myself - and this is a big one. As soon as someone mentions St. Louis, the not so happy thoughts start popping into my head. Or I start crying.
I had a really hard time leaving Birmingham this afternoon and was trying to figure out why during my 8 hour drive home. I recognized that I attribute all things bad that happen to me to the city of St. Louis. I refuse to acknowledge the positives that are also occuring. All the things that have jilted my world over the past few months have occured in St. Louis, so I have decided that if something bad happens to me, it must be because I am living here. Flawed logic, I realize, but for a little while, it was making me feel better. But I thought today, if I broke my arm, or lost my job in Birmingham, would I be so devastated? Probably not, because of course Birmingham cannot be blamed for anything!
I left Birmingham with this attitude today. I thought, I am driving into a thunderstorm and getting a ticket in a construction zone just because I am headed to St. Louis. (By the way, don't speed in construction zones - the fines are outrageous.) I neglected to remind myself that the police officer wrote my citation to intentionally save me an extra $300 fine, or that it rained in Birmingham pretty much the entire time I was there.
So my goal is to start emphasizing the positives that I experience in this crazy new city. Now, I am extremely stubborn and know that this is going to take a lot of "self talk" as my mother would say. In fact, my mom pointed out how much higher the humidity is in Birmingham v. St. Louis. "So?" I said? "The humidity makes me a better runner. I am able to endure all types of weather conditions." Whatever Jenny. Mike noticed a misquito bite on my arm when I arrived home and pointed out that there are no misquitoes in St. Louis. "I like misquitoes," I retorted. Yeah right, I was complaining about them all morning!
With this said, I am going to start looking for the positives that occur in St. Louis. Don't worry - I will not turn this blog into a journal for this project but I will tell you that I already found one. I re-ran the route I broke my elbow on, and neither fell nor broke any bones. One point for St. Louis. (Note - I never broke ANY bones before I came to St. Louis, but I guess that is not proactive...) :-)
I had a really hard time leaving Birmingham this afternoon and was trying to figure out why during my 8 hour drive home. I recognized that I attribute all things bad that happen to me to the city of St. Louis. I refuse to acknowledge the positives that are also occuring. All the things that have jilted my world over the past few months have occured in St. Louis, so I have decided that if something bad happens to me, it must be because I am living here. Flawed logic, I realize, but for a little while, it was making me feel better. But I thought today, if I broke my arm, or lost my job in Birmingham, would I be so devastated? Probably not, because of course Birmingham cannot be blamed for anything!
I left Birmingham with this attitude today. I thought, I am driving into a thunderstorm and getting a ticket in a construction zone just because I am headed to St. Louis. (By the way, don't speed in construction zones - the fines are outrageous.) I neglected to remind myself that the police officer wrote my citation to intentionally save me an extra $300 fine, or that it rained in Birmingham pretty much the entire time I was there.
So my goal is to start emphasizing the positives that I experience in this crazy new city. Now, I am extremely stubborn and know that this is going to take a lot of "self talk" as my mother would say. In fact, my mom pointed out how much higher the humidity is in Birmingham v. St. Louis. "So?" I said? "The humidity makes me a better runner. I am able to endure all types of weather conditions." Whatever Jenny. Mike noticed a misquito bite on my arm when I arrived home and pointed out that there are no misquitoes in St. Louis. "I like misquitoes," I retorted. Yeah right, I was complaining about them all morning!
With this said, I am going to start looking for the positives that occur in St. Louis. Don't worry - I will not turn this blog into a journal for this project but I will tell you that I already found one. I re-ran the route I broke my elbow on, and neither fell nor broke any bones. One point for St. Louis. (Note - I never broke ANY bones before I came to St. Louis, but I guess that is not proactive...) :-)
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Animal House
Sorry if I have not posted in a few days...I am in Birmingham!! I came to visit for my mother's birthday and because my best friend brought her new boyfriend to town. Both very important events I felt I needed to be present for. I called Mike halfway through my drive to remind him how long the trip is. At least this time I was able to listen to my own book on tape. I got in at 11 pm and I was thrilled to see that my parents were still up and had the lights on for me.
As I got out of the car, I heard my mom say, "Jenny??" What in the world is my mother doing outside at 11 pm? The answer is, my youngest sister got a dog. That may not make much sense to you, as I am still really trying to figure it out, but this dog has been partially adopted by my mom. Growing up, we had three cats. We were never allowed to get a dog and never really got a clear answer to our incessent questioning. We didn't have a fenced in back yard is one of the excuses I recall that could have easily been remedied if my parents had wanted to take on yet another responsibility.
Laura got Mia from the animal shelter a year ago. Suddenly I am hearing from my mom each day about how SHE is taking the dog for walks and keeping the dog at the house. I am learning new tips on how to train dogs as my mother is attending the behavior lessons with Laura and Mia. What is going on here? So when I arrived Thursday night, my mother was not waiting patiently for me to welcome me home - she was letting the dog out! She kept talking to the dog while I waited for her to ask her how my trip was! (By the way, we still have an 18 year old cat who is banned to the basement while Mia is prancing around upstairs.) I tried to rescue our cat and let her upstairs, but Mia nearly took her head off. I guess everyone is safer if Torti, the ancient cat, is kept locked up.
While my mother is taking care of my sister's dog, my father has begun a brewing factory in our basement. (Maybe this is why the cat doesn't mind being down there!) For Christmas, Mike, my sisters and I bought my father a beer making kit. He followed all the directions and made 50 bottles of some really good beer. He has already bought the ingredients to make his next batch.
So the question becomes, has the cute, house on the corner where I grew up turned into a fraternity house? Animals running everywhere with a distillery in the basement? I think some people might agree...all we need now are some Greek letters to signify this is the Blackburn house!
As I got out of the car, I heard my mom say, "Jenny??" What in the world is my mother doing outside at 11 pm? The answer is, my youngest sister got a dog. That may not make much sense to you, as I am still really trying to figure it out, but this dog has been partially adopted by my mom. Growing up, we had three cats. We were never allowed to get a dog and never really got a clear answer to our incessent questioning. We didn't have a fenced in back yard is one of the excuses I recall that could have easily been remedied if my parents had wanted to take on yet another responsibility.
Laura got Mia from the animal shelter a year ago. Suddenly I am hearing from my mom each day about how SHE is taking the dog for walks and keeping the dog at the house. I am learning new tips on how to train dogs as my mother is attending the behavior lessons with Laura and Mia. What is going on here? So when I arrived Thursday night, my mother was not waiting patiently for me to welcome me home - she was letting the dog out! She kept talking to the dog while I waited for her to ask her how my trip was! (By the way, we still have an 18 year old cat who is banned to the basement while Mia is prancing around upstairs.) I tried to rescue our cat and let her upstairs, but Mia nearly took her head off. I guess everyone is safer if Torti, the ancient cat, is kept locked up.
While my mother is taking care of my sister's dog, my father has begun a brewing factory in our basement. (Maybe this is why the cat doesn't mind being down there!) For Christmas, Mike, my sisters and I bought my father a beer making kit. He followed all the directions and made 50 bottles of some really good beer. He has already bought the ingredients to make his next batch.
So the question becomes, has the cute, house on the corner where I grew up turned into a fraternity house? Animals running everywhere with a distillery in the basement? I think some people might agree...all we need now are some Greek letters to signify this is the Blackburn house!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Touch Me!!!
I am a toucher. Don't worry, I promised you that my blogs would not be naughty, so this will not be going the way you may think. What I mean is that when I am having a conversation with someone, I will, more often than not, grab or touch their arm while we are talking. Today I was trying to figure out why I do this. Am I trying to show someone that they have my complete attention? Am I trying to express to them how excited I am and want them to know that this excitement involves them? I think it is the connection with someone, regardless of how mundane the subject.
I have noticed that "the touching" is few and far between here. I wrote previously that I held a baby at work for about 30 minutes the other day. One reason I enjoy working at Pottery Barn Kids is because the sweetest, cutest babies come in all the time. Don't worry - the majority of them I just oogle at from far away, but this one was too much. I was playing with him in his stroller when his mother offered him up. "You can get him out if you want to!" You don't have to tell me twice! That baby and I were dancing around the store within minutes.
After the horrible day I had yesterday, I was dreading going into work today. Things seemed to be busy, but calm when I arrived, and I slowly relaxed. When I looked up to ring the next customer, the cute baby was back with his wonderfully nice mother! I ran over to the baby and started playing with him while the rest of my co-workers' mouth's dropped. Someone even made a comment later about me picking up random babies. When I called my mother this evening to recite my day, she started laughing. I didn't think anything was wrong with my behavior and she agreed that in Birmingham, it would be considered normal. But I am in uncharted territory up here and I have learned that playing with random babies may be a sign that you are a kidnapper.
Anyway, the nice mom and I started talking while I helped she and her husband bring their packages to the car. (This is normal protocol at the high end baby store where I work.) As I was saying "Thank you" I offered my babysitting services. I explained that I knew it was a little weird because she had just met me, but I will be out of a job in 11 days and desperate times call for desperate measures! She said she would be thrilled to have a babysitter and when she looked at the area code to my phone number her eyes became huge! (Note - I refuse to change my license plate or phone number to MO. I do not plan to stay here for the extended periods of time those types of commitments entail.)
Anyway, my new friend looked at me and said, "Birmingham??!!" I knew she was too nice to be from here. Apparently she went to college right across the street from my high school, and her husband went to medical school at the hospital where my father works! Their family moved up here 5 years ago when the dad was admitted to the residency program at St. Louis University. My new friend and I discussed how difficult it was to leave the South and how different the attitude is here. She said that she and her husband both gained about 30 pounds because they had nothing to do and it was so hard for them to make friends. It was just nice to hear similar stories from people who have been through this experience.
So - conclusion to this post:
A) I noticed that while my new friend and I were talking and laughing, we kept touching each other's arm and we had just met! Let's spread this connection around! It doesn't have to be regional!
B) I KNEW something positive had to come out of working this horrendous job.
Whether it be a new friend, or a new job, it is definitely not something I was expecting, and I love it!!
I have noticed that "the touching" is few and far between here. I wrote previously that I held a baby at work for about 30 minutes the other day. One reason I enjoy working at Pottery Barn Kids is because the sweetest, cutest babies come in all the time. Don't worry - the majority of them I just oogle at from far away, but this one was too much. I was playing with him in his stroller when his mother offered him up. "You can get him out if you want to!" You don't have to tell me twice! That baby and I were dancing around the store within minutes.
After the horrible day I had yesterday, I was dreading going into work today. Things seemed to be busy, but calm when I arrived, and I slowly relaxed. When I looked up to ring the next customer, the cute baby was back with his wonderfully nice mother! I ran over to the baby and started playing with him while the rest of my co-workers' mouth's dropped. Someone even made a comment later about me picking up random babies. When I called my mother this evening to recite my day, she started laughing. I didn't think anything was wrong with my behavior and she agreed that in Birmingham, it would be considered normal. But I am in uncharted territory up here and I have learned that playing with random babies may be a sign that you are a kidnapper.
Anyway, the nice mom and I started talking while I helped she and her husband bring their packages to the car. (This is normal protocol at the high end baby store where I work.) As I was saying "Thank you" I offered my babysitting services. I explained that I knew it was a little weird because she had just met me, but I will be out of a job in 11 days and desperate times call for desperate measures! She said she would be thrilled to have a babysitter and when she looked at the area code to my phone number her eyes became huge! (Note - I refuse to change my license plate or phone number to MO. I do not plan to stay here for the extended periods of time those types of commitments entail.)
Anyway, my new friend looked at me and said, "Birmingham??!!" I knew she was too nice to be from here. Apparently she went to college right across the street from my high school, and her husband went to medical school at the hospital where my father works! Their family moved up here 5 years ago when the dad was admitted to the residency program at St. Louis University. My new friend and I discussed how difficult it was to leave the South and how different the attitude is here. She said that she and her husband both gained about 30 pounds because they had nothing to do and it was so hard for them to make friends. It was just nice to hear similar stories from people who have been through this experience.
So - conclusion to this post:
A) I noticed that while my new friend and I were talking and laughing, we kept touching each other's arm and we had just met! Let's spread this connection around! It doesn't have to be regional!
B) I KNEW something positive had to come out of working this horrendous job.
Whether it be a new friend, or a new job, it is definitely not something I was expecting, and I love it!!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Please Find Another Outlet
I know I should not dwell on experiences that are negative, but today was just a crappy work day. I have been putting in a lot of hours, which is good, because the pay checks will help, but the negative attitudes of the customers really start to wear on you. I recognize that I work in retail and am not going to be well respected by the general public, but I do think that there is a general sense of kindness that you bestow on other human beings. At some point in your life, don't you learn the "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" golden rule? We learned it in kindergartern. Seriously. I remember it being posted on the wall in Mrs. Wheeler's class.
Today I worked a six hours shift, which is long when you are standing on your feet all day. I can recite in my sleep why our store is closing and what items are and are not on sale. I am plastering on my smile and asking as many people as I can what I can do to help make their shopping experience better. Most of the time this is wonderful. I held a 9 month old baby for about 30 minutes yesterday while his mother shopped. She told me I was helping her out, and that baby was making me happy! A win, win situation!
But today started out all wrong. After lunch, I heard someone say, "OH MY - That baby is throwing up." I looked over and a child, who could not have been more than 6 months old was projectile vometing, Exorcist style, onto the floor. When I turned around again, the mother had fled the store!! Suddenly, everyone looked very busy. Well, we can't really leave throw up on the floor so I went and got some paper towels. I thought I was going to have some reflux issues myself. This prompted everyone to ask me, "So, do you still want kids?" Of course I want kids! My kids aren't going to projectile vomit on the floor, and I sure as heck am not going to run out of the store if the do! I would apologize and offer to clean it up. How many people wouldn't?
And then....3 minutes before I was supposed to leave work, a lady came to the counter. Maybe it was my misunderstanding, but we were not communicating well. I told her how cute her children were and reminded her that everything she was buying was a final sale. She wanted to know her items would be after the markdown, and I asked her if she actually wanted me to ring her up or just give her an estimate with the calculator. This is when the trouble started.
Customer: "I said, ring those up!"
Me: "Ok, your total is...."
Customer: "Well, then I certainly don't want that third item."
Me: (Of course you don't). "Ok, well if you want to just slide your credit card here...
Customer: I am paying cash. (You should have seen the daggers coming out of her eyes. Her arms were crossed and I was pretty sure she wanted to reach across the counter and strangle me. Sorry my ESP was not working lady. 99% of the world uses credit cards these days).
Me: Ok, well than your total is....
Customer: "Where is your manager? Because I bet he would love it if you wanted to roll your eyes at him."
Me: "Ma'am, I am sorry that you thought I rolled my eyes, but that was not my intention. "
Customer: "Really because you just did it again."
Me: (At this point I am so over it. I want to just throw something at her.) I calmly gave her her change and said, "Thank you, have a wonderful day."
Customer: No comment...."You know, you should really think about your actions because I think that your face is a poor representation for the company that you work for.
Me: "Ok, have a great day!!!!"
I started ringing the next person up and had to stop in the middle of the transaction and run to the back because I was crying. When did people get so mean? Our regional manager was there and I was just waiting to get in trouble. She was so sympathetic. She told me that these are the people that cannot afford to buy things in our store and then get even more angry when they realize this. I thought that was an interesting point, and actually believe there is a lot of truth behind it.
So after I cried and left work, I went to the grocery store to get some things for dinner, as well as a large bottle of wine. Three glasses later, I am still angry with this woman, but not so hurt. I recognize that something was (hopefully) going on with her to make her so grumpy and I am trying not to let this ruin my night. Just look out lady. Karma is a bitch.
Today I worked a six hours shift, which is long when you are standing on your feet all day. I can recite in my sleep why our store is closing and what items are and are not on sale. I am plastering on my smile and asking as many people as I can what I can do to help make their shopping experience better. Most of the time this is wonderful. I held a 9 month old baby for about 30 minutes yesterday while his mother shopped. She told me I was helping her out, and that baby was making me happy! A win, win situation!
But today started out all wrong. After lunch, I heard someone say, "OH MY - That baby is throwing up." I looked over and a child, who could not have been more than 6 months old was projectile vometing, Exorcist style, onto the floor. When I turned around again, the mother had fled the store!! Suddenly, everyone looked very busy. Well, we can't really leave throw up on the floor so I went and got some paper towels. I thought I was going to have some reflux issues myself. This prompted everyone to ask me, "So, do you still want kids?" Of course I want kids! My kids aren't going to projectile vomit on the floor, and I sure as heck am not going to run out of the store if the do! I would apologize and offer to clean it up. How many people wouldn't?
And then....3 minutes before I was supposed to leave work, a lady came to the counter. Maybe it was my misunderstanding, but we were not communicating well. I told her how cute her children were and reminded her that everything she was buying was a final sale. She wanted to know her items would be after the markdown, and I asked her if she actually wanted me to ring her up or just give her an estimate with the calculator. This is when the trouble started.
Customer: "I said, ring those up!"
Me: "Ok, your total is...."
Customer: "Well, then I certainly don't want that third item."
Me: (Of course you don't). "Ok, well if you want to just slide your credit card here...
Customer: I am paying cash. (You should have seen the daggers coming out of her eyes. Her arms were crossed and I was pretty sure she wanted to reach across the counter and strangle me. Sorry my ESP was not working lady. 99% of the world uses credit cards these days).
Me: Ok, well than your total is....
Customer: "Where is your manager? Because I bet he would love it if you wanted to roll your eyes at him."
Me: "Ma'am, I am sorry that you thought I rolled my eyes, but that was not my intention. "
Customer: "Really because you just did it again."
Me: (At this point I am so over it. I want to just throw something at her.) I calmly gave her her change and said, "Thank you, have a wonderful day."
Customer: No comment...."You know, you should really think about your actions because I think that your face is a poor representation for the company that you work for.
Me: "Ok, have a great day!!!!"
I started ringing the next person up and had to stop in the middle of the transaction and run to the back because I was crying. When did people get so mean? Our regional manager was there and I was just waiting to get in trouble. She was so sympathetic. She told me that these are the people that cannot afford to buy things in our store and then get even more angry when they realize this. I thought that was an interesting point, and actually believe there is a lot of truth behind it.
So after I cried and left work, I went to the grocery store to get some things for dinner, as well as a large bottle of wine. Three glasses later, I am still angry with this woman, but not so hurt. I recognize that something was (hopefully) going on with her to make her so grumpy and I am trying not to let this ruin my night. Just look out lady. Karma is a bitch.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Of Course
Where were you at 6:15 pm this evening? I was laying on the couch staring at the ceiling. Our power went out this morning after a horrendous thunderstorm hit. When I woke up, I didn't think I would miss the power that much. Surely it would be on by the time I got home from work, and who really cares if you come into work with wet hair? When I came back at 3, no progress had been made. Random rumors from our neighbors were flying. "I heard it would be back on by 7:00 tonight." "Really? I heard midnight!" Great. I had no idea what to do. I read for a little while and took a nap. Suddenly it was 6:15, I was bored and had no place to go. I was alone to entertain myself.
I thought about what I could do. I was hungry, but couldn't go to the grocery store because the new food would go bad. Not a good idea to head back to the mall because I knew I could do some serious damage in the new boutique that just opened. I decided I would head to Walgreens and get batteries for our one flashlight. Who knew how long this outage would last? When I got to the drug store, I waited in line to be rung up. I had 12 D batteries, so we would be illuminated for days! Nope. Walgreens was not accepting credit cards. Cash or check please Ma'am. "Seriously?" I asked. "So serious," the cashier responded. We figured out if I bought 2 Walgreen batteries rather than a pack of 12 Duracells, I could get by with my $3 in cash.
What next? I called my parents. They both answered the phone. Yay! An audience. I started talking and didn't stop until my mother interrupted to tell me she was hanging up and I could talk to my dad. Dad suggested I go for I run. Nope, I am malnurished and will collapse. How about a cup of coffee? It is 7 pm dad. I will be up all night with nothing to do. "I don't know Jenny. I need to go." Bye dad.
So, I went to eat dinner at a restaurant down the road. I called my two friends to see if they wanted to meet me, but they were both busy. I called Mike on my way home and he suggested I go for a walk. I went to one of his friends' homes close to us so I could charge my phone while I walked. Once I got inside I asked if I could borrow their dog to walk with me. It was around 8:00, and I thought I might look more menacing with this dog in tow. After we walked for about a mile, I decided we should run the other mile and a half home. Now, I did not grow up with dogs and don't know what they do when you try to run them. I was getting annoyed because the dog kept trying to stop every few minutes.
Then I noticed the dog's legs were shaking. Oh no, I thought. What if this poor dog has a heart attack and I have to carry it back to his owner? I had no idea what condition this dog was in or how old it was. Probably information I should have received before I left the house. When we finally got back, I explained that I was concerned about ole Arnie's health. Arnie's owner could not believe I ran him. He just had ACL surgery on his back two legs!! No wonder they were shaking! That poor dog was basically getting dragged along while I chastised him for trying to stop!
After his owner assured me he would be ok, I headed home to take a shower in the dark. Of course, as soon as I got out, the power came back on. Now I am trying to catch up on my computer correspondence and head to bed. It is never a dull day here in St. Louis!
I thought about what I could do. I was hungry, but couldn't go to the grocery store because the new food would go bad. Not a good idea to head back to the mall because I knew I could do some serious damage in the new boutique that just opened. I decided I would head to Walgreens and get batteries for our one flashlight. Who knew how long this outage would last? When I got to the drug store, I waited in line to be rung up. I had 12 D batteries, so we would be illuminated for days! Nope. Walgreens was not accepting credit cards. Cash or check please Ma'am. "Seriously?" I asked. "So serious," the cashier responded. We figured out if I bought 2 Walgreen batteries rather than a pack of 12 Duracells, I could get by with my $3 in cash.
What next? I called my parents. They both answered the phone. Yay! An audience. I started talking and didn't stop until my mother interrupted to tell me she was hanging up and I could talk to my dad. Dad suggested I go for I run. Nope, I am malnurished and will collapse. How about a cup of coffee? It is 7 pm dad. I will be up all night with nothing to do. "I don't know Jenny. I need to go." Bye dad.
So, I went to eat dinner at a restaurant down the road. I called my two friends to see if they wanted to meet me, but they were both busy. I called Mike on my way home and he suggested I go for a walk. I went to one of his friends' homes close to us so I could charge my phone while I walked. Once I got inside I asked if I could borrow their dog to walk with me. It was around 8:00, and I thought I might look more menacing with this dog in tow. After we walked for about a mile, I decided we should run the other mile and a half home. Now, I did not grow up with dogs and don't know what they do when you try to run them. I was getting annoyed because the dog kept trying to stop every few minutes.
Then I noticed the dog's legs were shaking. Oh no, I thought. What if this poor dog has a heart attack and I have to carry it back to his owner? I had no idea what condition this dog was in or how old it was. Probably information I should have received before I left the house. When we finally got back, I explained that I was concerned about ole Arnie's health. Arnie's owner could not believe I ran him. He just had ACL surgery on his back two legs!! No wonder they were shaking! That poor dog was basically getting dragged along while I chastised him for trying to stop!
After his owner assured me he would be ok, I headed home to take a shower in the dark. Of course, as soon as I got out, the power came back on. Now I am trying to catch up on my computer correspondence and head to bed. It is never a dull day here in St. Louis!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Thank You
I am not one to hide my feelings about anything. If something is wrong, you will hear about it over and over again. "Oh - you didn't know that I found out I broke my elbow and failed the bar in the same day? Let me tell you about it." "You didn't know that I am about to be unemployed? Don't worry, I will tell you the whole sob story." I think it got to the point where friends and family did not want to pick up the phone! But I will have to say, as painful as it may have been to listen to me, my friends and family were so supportive and positive when I was going through a funk in my life.
First - MOM CAME! I am not sure anything can beat this gift. She drove up here for a long weekend and helped me clean our house. Since I was walking around like a one-winged bird doped up on Vicatin, our house had turned into something that needed to be on "Oprah." There were no moldy dishes (as my mother admitted she was afraid of) but there was a lot of clutter. Mom scrubbed while I took naps and watched t.v. Then we went shopping, ate cupcakes and watched movies! She sat with me while I cried and just rubbed my back, which honestly, is all you want anyone to do. The problem can't be fixed, so just sympathize with me! The weekend couldn't have been better and Mike actually asked her if she could stay for a few more days. I think he was tired of the whining too.
Next, random friends sent me little cheer up cards and surprises in the mail. It was the nicest thing and I was so grateful for their thoughtfulness. It is amazing how much better a handwritten note makes someone feel. The phone calls were wonderful too! Sorry if I returned them after I had had a few glasses of wine...
Finally, Mike's parents called and told me that they wanted me to come visit them in FL! Mike wasn't able to come so it was just me and the almost in-laws for a week. I was treated like a princess. I checked my bag and was escorted to first class where I drank 2 bloody marys in preparation for my beach week. If you read my blog about car trips, you know I was ecstatic! Of course when I actually got there, I seemed to have brought the bad news with me. It rained all week! We did get a few good days of sun in.
Each morning, Mike's mother, (Mrs. C) woke me up. I left the bedroom to find my breakfast set on a tray for me, coffee already poured. We went outside, ate by the pool and discussed what we would do that day. Shopping or the beach? The beach, or shopping? At night, Mrs. C made a different cocktail for each cocktail hour before dinner. Then she or Mr. C would whip up an incredible meal. We had so much fun and I was sad to come home! (The rain followed me back and it was apparently gorgeous the next day in FL.)
Once I started to feel a little less sorry for myself, I realized how selfish I was being. My best friend works with children in Africa and just built a school there. Oops, not really in the same "feel sorry" for me category. So this blog is a thank you to those of you who put up with me during my cranky month (or two.) I love you all!
First - MOM CAME! I am not sure anything can beat this gift. She drove up here for a long weekend and helped me clean our house. Since I was walking around like a one-winged bird doped up on Vicatin, our house had turned into something that needed to be on "Oprah." There were no moldy dishes (as my mother admitted she was afraid of) but there was a lot of clutter. Mom scrubbed while I took naps and watched t.v. Then we went shopping, ate cupcakes and watched movies! She sat with me while I cried and just rubbed my back, which honestly, is all you want anyone to do. The problem can't be fixed, so just sympathize with me! The weekend couldn't have been better and Mike actually asked her if she could stay for a few more days. I think he was tired of the whining too.
Next, random friends sent me little cheer up cards and surprises in the mail. It was the nicest thing and I was so grateful for their thoughtfulness. It is amazing how much better a handwritten note makes someone feel. The phone calls were wonderful too! Sorry if I returned them after I had had a few glasses of wine...
Finally, Mike's parents called and told me that they wanted me to come visit them in FL! Mike wasn't able to come so it was just me and the almost in-laws for a week. I was treated like a princess. I checked my bag and was escorted to first class where I drank 2 bloody marys in preparation for my beach week. If you read my blog about car trips, you know I was ecstatic! Of course when I actually got there, I seemed to have brought the bad news with me. It rained all week! We did get a few good days of sun in.
Each morning, Mike's mother, (Mrs. C) woke me up. I left the bedroom to find my breakfast set on a tray for me, coffee already poured. We went outside, ate by the pool and discussed what we would do that day. Shopping or the beach? The beach, or shopping? At night, Mrs. C made a different cocktail for each cocktail hour before dinner. Then she or Mr. C would whip up an incredible meal. We had so much fun and I was sad to come home! (The rain followed me back and it was apparently gorgeous the next day in FL.)
Once I started to feel a little less sorry for myself, I realized how selfish I was being. My best friend works with children in Africa and just built a school there. Oops, not really in the same "feel sorry" for me category. So this blog is a thank you to those of you who put up with me during my cranky month (or two.) I love you all!
Friday, June 5, 2009
Goodness Glaciers!
For those of you who do not know my middle sister, you will not be meeting her anytime soon. She lives in Iceland. You do not have to re-read. She really does. "What?" You may be asking. "Is that country even inhabited?" Well friends, yes it is. Apparently it is a great place to learn about renewable energy mixed in with a little physics.
Julia and I are 22 months apart and as different as you can imagine. When we were younger, we loved to play together. As we got older, I liked to fix her brown, curly, hair, put make up on her and basically dress her as a doll as much as possible. She still does not wear make up to this day. Regardless, once we realized that we would never have the exact same interests, Julia and I became much closer.
Julia is very science and math oriented. She has excelled in every class she has ever taken and only missed one question on the SATs! Don't worry, my youngest sister and I do not test like that, and no, it is not normal. Anyway, Julia left AL and went to undergrad at UNC. While she was there, she studied abroad in Australia. Again, if you are studying physics, you must travel the world and visit countries everyone dreams of going to. If you are studying psychology, the classes will not vary throughout the world and the United States will be just fine, thank you very much.
All this background to tell you about the amazing trip our family took in April. My parents, youngest sister and Mike packed our bags and headed to Iceland for 10 days. It was one of the most amazing places I have ever visited. Yes, it is cold, but never dropped below 32 degrees while we were there. The winter in St. Louis was colder than that! We rented 2 cars and drove around the entire country, stopping at various sights along the way.
We saw incredible waterfalls:
Julia and I are 22 months apart and as different as you can imagine. When we were younger, we loved to play together. As we got older, I liked to fix her brown, curly, hair, put make up on her and basically dress her as a doll as much as possible. She still does not wear make up to this day. Regardless, once we realized that we would never have the exact same interests, Julia and I became much closer.
Julia is very science and math oriented. She has excelled in every class she has ever taken and only missed one question on the SATs! Don't worry, my youngest sister and I do not test like that, and no, it is not normal. Anyway, Julia left AL and went to undergrad at UNC. While she was there, she studied abroad in Australia. Again, if you are studying physics, you must travel the world and visit countries everyone dreams of going to. If you are studying psychology, the classes will not vary throughout the world and the United States will be just fine, thank you very much.
All this background to tell you about the amazing trip our family took in April. My parents, youngest sister and Mike packed our bags and headed to Iceland for 10 days. It was one of the most amazing places I have ever visited. Yes, it is cold, but never dropped below 32 degrees while we were there. The winter in St. Louis was colder than that! We rented 2 cars and drove around the entire country, stopping at various sights along the way.
We saw incredible waterfalls:
Walked on glaciers:
and got lost in a lava maze. I have a picture of that, but can't figure out how to turn it counterclockwise.
It is hard to explain or show over pictures how beautiful this country is. Julia was a great tour guide during our adventure, and pushed us to try some of the local cuisine. We ate a lot of lamb, fish and even tried some pigeon! One of the delicacies that we were unable to try is rotten shark. A shark is buried in the ground for a year and then dug up. That's it. That's what you eat. You are then supposed to follow it up with a shot of "The Black Death." We bought a bottle of this before we came home, but I have yet to try it. The name just isn't appealing to me!
We also saw some geothermal hotsprings:
I guess this is part of the reason it is good to study physics here?
Regardless of why, we had a wonderful time. I am so thankful to my parents for generously including us in this trip, and to Julia for being smart enough to be in the program!
Apology
Dear Friends:
I am sorry if you have recently logged into my blog and been asked to agree to adult material. Mike got on my settings and set that up. There is no adult content and I would never put anything like that up! Mike is just jealous of all my blog followers. Sorry again!!
I am sorry if you have recently logged into my blog and been asked to agree to adult material. Mike got on my settings and set that up. There is no adult content and I would never put anything like that up! Mike is just jealous of all my blog followers. Sorry again!!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
So I Think I Can Dance
Do you ever think about what your life would be like if you were cast in some of the current reality shows? Do you ever think while watching these shows, "Hey - that could totally be me leaping around the stage while an entire nation gives me a standing ovation" or, "Of course I could sing acapella to Celine Dion's "Titanic" and make everyone, including Paula Abdul and Simon, cry?" These are the things I like to think about while I am watching television. A disclaimer: I do not sing, and have never attempted to be good at it, and while I grew up dancing, I am well aware that I could never compete with the likes of those who make it through Vegas week and begin the treacherous journey through "So You Think You Can Dance" (herein after know as SYTYCD.)
But isn't it fun to imagine?
Last summer when I watched SYTYCD, I told Mike over and over that I should try out for the show. I jumped and twirled around the house attempting to show him how talented I was. This is part of the reason I am always bruised. I try to do things I have no business even thinking about. Don't even ask about American Idol. Luckily, Mike and I were always long distance when this show was on, so I would sing into the phone and say, "Wasn't that good?? I should totally try out, right??" Usually, no comment.
How about the Real Housewives of New Jersey? Who wouldn't want to watch "The Real Girlfriends of Birmingham?" (All of us are working, and not all of us are married, but I still think it would be quite entertaining.) If we can watch Sanjia in the jungle this summer, surely someone would like to film me and my daily accomplishments! My newest favorite reality show is Wipeout. This comes on Wednesday evenings and is basically a more complicated Double Dare made for adults. Instead of the trivia and physical challenges, the hour long show is filled with obstacle courses that are hilarious, and probably very painful to the contestants that just can't make it through to the final, firey course. Mike and I laughed and laughed, but then, who is laughing when they walk away with $50,000 for jumping around like a Super Mario Brother?
I don't know if my desire to be on these shows is part of my extroverted personality, and half of the nation is thinking the same thing, or if it was because I was brought up in a family where I was told I could do anything if I set my mind to it. Even watching America's Next Top Model - I know I do not look like a model, have the body of a model, and have never dreamed of being a model, but I always like to strut around after I watch that show. My dad actually told my youngest sister at the dinner table one evening that she should be a model. He didn't tell me or my other sister that. So much for playing favorites.
This summer while the Olympics were on, I told my family if this whole lawyering business did not work out, I would just run the marathon in the Olympics. No problem...it is looking more and more like I am going to have to work on that goal! So, if you have any secret reality show dreams, I think you should pursue them! Keep dreaming, and look out - any day now, you may turn on the television and I could be smiling right back at you!
But isn't it fun to imagine?
Last summer when I watched SYTYCD, I told Mike over and over that I should try out for the show. I jumped and twirled around the house attempting to show him how talented I was. This is part of the reason I am always bruised. I try to do things I have no business even thinking about. Don't even ask about American Idol. Luckily, Mike and I were always long distance when this show was on, so I would sing into the phone and say, "Wasn't that good?? I should totally try out, right??" Usually, no comment.
How about the Real Housewives of New Jersey? Who wouldn't want to watch "The Real Girlfriends of Birmingham?" (All of us are working, and not all of us are married, but I still think it would be quite entertaining.) If we can watch Sanjia in the jungle this summer, surely someone would like to film me and my daily accomplishments! My newest favorite reality show is Wipeout. This comes on Wednesday evenings and is basically a more complicated Double Dare made for adults. Instead of the trivia and physical challenges, the hour long show is filled with obstacle courses that are hilarious, and probably very painful to the contestants that just can't make it through to the final, firey course. Mike and I laughed and laughed, but then, who is laughing when they walk away with $50,000 for jumping around like a Super Mario Brother?
I don't know if my desire to be on these shows is part of my extroverted personality, and half of the nation is thinking the same thing, or if it was because I was brought up in a family where I was told I could do anything if I set my mind to it. Even watching America's Next Top Model - I know I do not look like a model, have the body of a model, and have never dreamed of being a model, but I always like to strut around after I watch that show. My dad actually told my youngest sister at the dinner table one evening that she should be a model. He didn't tell me or my other sister that. So much for playing favorites.
This summer while the Olympics were on, I told my family if this whole lawyering business did not work out, I would just run the marathon in the Olympics. No problem...it is looking more and more like I am going to have to work on that goal! So, if you have any secret reality show dreams, I think you should pursue them! Keep dreaming, and look out - any day now, you may turn on the television and I could be smiling right back at you!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Road Trip!?
How fun did road trips used to be? I remember packing up the car in college and traveling for Spring Break or some other celebration. We had so much fun spending time together, listening to everyone's favorite CDs and laughing. Sophomore year of college, I was put in charge of navigating our way to Destin. This trip should only have taken about 4 hours from New Orleans, but I was adament that Panama City was before Destin. (It is not.) We kept driving, looking for signs to Panama City. When we finally stopped at a gas station and were told that we had passed Destin 2 hours before, I was banned to the back seat. Seriously. No one would talk to me. It took us about 8 hours to get there. Now I wonder how we could have left with no map, assured that there would be signs pointing "To Destin" for us to follow.
Even when we were growing up, my parents drove us EVERYWHERE. No plane flights for the family of five unless absolutely necessary - i.e - we were flying over an ocean. I don't remember being miserable on these trips, even though some of them were 12 hour drives to visit our extended family in Virginia. Just cramped in between my sisters in our 1985 Volvo station wagon. Whether my parents had a good time is probably another story.
This leads me to believe, that as we get older, road trips are not so much fun. Over the weekend, Mike and I drove to Atlanta to attend a funeral service for one of Mike's friend's fathers. Since we live smack dab in the middle of the country, it takes us a minimum of 7 hours to get anywhere we really want to visit. Atlanta is about 8.5 hours away. As I have gotten older, I realize that I do have some control issues, and like to be a backseat driver, as well as control the radio and anything else I can talk about from my position in the passenger seat. As the driver, Mike believes he should have full control of the radio. (I also follow this mantra when I am driving.) We brought several books on tape, because, let's face it, we can't agree on music. I love Top 40 Hits while Mike is all into Radiohead and other alternative bands. (Note - I never heard of Radiohead before we started dating.) Regardless, we had the choice of listening to Dean Koontz, who I had to stop reading when I was 12 because I was having nightmares, or Pat Conroy, a lovely writer who talks about the South, family dynamics and love. Of course, Dean Koontz played through 5 discs. When I finally became interested in who the murderer was, Mike informed me that he didn't download the last 2 discs! I still don't know who "The Freak" is in the book "Velocity." I only got one chapter of Pat Conroy in. Now this does show that Mike drove the majority of the way, and I am thankful for that.
We have a tendancy to leave late in the day regardless of where we are going. That is another good thing about flying. There is a specific time that you have to be at the airport, and if you miss it, you will not be traveling. Not the same with driving. You can leave in the middle of the night and still arrive at your destination. Once Mike and I left St. Louis at midnight. I drank two of those Energy Drinks that are more potent than Red Bull and drove the entire way. I think that may have been the easiest drive of my life.
I think the reason I no longer look forward to road trips is because they just don't tend to be as fun as I remember. If I am going to go on vacation, I would like to start the trip off right and board a plane! Let me check my luggage and enjoy a bloody mary! At least then I am in control of my own fun! I can watch my own movie or read whatever genre book I would like. Unfortunately, it appears that the days of loading up the car and heading to the beach with your girlfriends are now limited. It just might be time to invest in some heavy duty ear plugs and adapt.
Even when we were growing up, my parents drove us EVERYWHERE. No plane flights for the family of five unless absolutely necessary - i.e - we were flying over an ocean. I don't remember being miserable on these trips, even though some of them were 12 hour drives to visit our extended family in Virginia. Just cramped in between my sisters in our 1985 Volvo station wagon. Whether my parents had a good time is probably another story.
This leads me to believe, that as we get older, road trips are not so much fun. Over the weekend, Mike and I drove to Atlanta to attend a funeral service for one of Mike's friend's fathers. Since we live smack dab in the middle of the country, it takes us a minimum of 7 hours to get anywhere we really want to visit. Atlanta is about 8.5 hours away. As I have gotten older, I realize that I do have some control issues, and like to be a backseat driver, as well as control the radio and anything else I can talk about from my position in the passenger seat. As the driver, Mike believes he should have full control of the radio. (I also follow this mantra when I am driving.) We brought several books on tape, because, let's face it, we can't agree on music. I love Top 40 Hits while Mike is all into Radiohead and other alternative bands. (Note - I never heard of Radiohead before we started dating.) Regardless, we had the choice of listening to Dean Koontz, who I had to stop reading when I was 12 because I was having nightmares, or Pat Conroy, a lovely writer who talks about the South, family dynamics and love. Of course, Dean Koontz played through 5 discs. When I finally became interested in who the murderer was, Mike informed me that he didn't download the last 2 discs! I still don't know who "The Freak" is in the book "Velocity." I only got one chapter of Pat Conroy in. Now this does show that Mike drove the majority of the way, and I am thankful for that.
We have a tendancy to leave late in the day regardless of where we are going. That is another good thing about flying. There is a specific time that you have to be at the airport, and if you miss it, you will not be traveling. Not the same with driving. You can leave in the middle of the night and still arrive at your destination. Once Mike and I left St. Louis at midnight. I drank two of those Energy Drinks that are more potent than Red Bull and drove the entire way. I think that may have been the easiest drive of my life.
I think the reason I no longer look forward to road trips is because they just don't tend to be as fun as I remember. If I am going to go on vacation, I would like to start the trip off right and board a plane! Let me check my luggage and enjoy a bloody mary! At least then I am in control of my own fun! I can watch my own movie or read whatever genre book I would like. Unfortunately, it appears that the days of loading up the car and heading to the beach with your girlfriends are now limited. It just might be time to invest in some heavy duty ear plugs and adapt.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Please Be Kind...
What were you doing in high school or college to make some extra spending money? I lifeguarded (great job) and also worked at Movie Gallery one summer. I loved that job, partly because it was easy and I just talked to people all day, but also because at the end of the day, everything had to be in order. I still cannot go to a movie store and stop myself from placing DVDs back in their correct homes, or making sure they are propped in just the right position. A friend told me that she still ensures there is a certain amount of space in between each hanger when she goes into stores. She worked at a clothing store in high school. It is amazing how much these jobs affect you, even 10 or 15 years later. I still cringe when a child dives into the shallow end of the pool.
The reasoning behind this post is to ask you to remember how you felt when you were a peon at work. Were you getting coffee for someone? Rewinding movies, or vacuuming a store after the mall closed? I remember thinking when I graduated college, "Thank goodness these days are behind me. Never again will I be working 4 hour shifts on a Sunday afternoon!" Again, we cannot see the future! Do you remember how you felt when customers came in and treated you like you were only working there to please them? I am now allowed to announce that the Pottery Barn Kids store where I currently work will be closing in less than a month. Today began the 30% "Everything Must Go" sale. I have never seen so many crazed women running around searching for the perfect stroller blanket or nursery bedding. Additionally, people felt the need to bargain with us for more than 30%. Is this 1873? Are we still on the bartering system? Then, when told no, these women got angry! They were also annoyed that it took a few minutes to figure out what the discount would actually be on each item.
Now, we did have some people who waited patiently for their turn and actually asked how we (as people) were doing. I think they must have worked in retail at some point in their life. All this to remind you...the people behind the counter are just like you. They may or may not be as educated as you, or have had the opportunities that you have had. On the other hand, some of them may be working there just for the discount! Please remember, grunting and making comments under your breath does not help us do our job more quickly. In fact, it makes us flustered and we will probably take longer than we would otherwise because we are rushing. We are doing the best we can. So, the next time you are standing in a line that is out the door and thinking, "If I were behind the counter, this would be going a lot faster," take a deep breath and remember when you were actually in this position. You never know...you could one day be back there.
Try to help us make this a positive experience for everyone. Just be kind...rewind. :-)
The reasoning behind this post is to ask you to remember how you felt when you were a peon at work. Were you getting coffee for someone? Rewinding movies, or vacuuming a store after the mall closed? I remember thinking when I graduated college, "Thank goodness these days are behind me. Never again will I be working 4 hour shifts on a Sunday afternoon!" Again, we cannot see the future! Do you remember how you felt when customers came in and treated you like you were only working there to please them? I am now allowed to announce that the Pottery Barn Kids store where I currently work will be closing in less than a month. Today began the 30% "Everything Must Go" sale. I have never seen so many crazed women running around searching for the perfect stroller blanket or nursery bedding. Additionally, people felt the need to bargain with us for more than 30%. Is this 1873? Are we still on the bartering system? Then, when told no, these women got angry! They were also annoyed that it took a few minutes to figure out what the discount would actually be on each item.
Now, we did have some people who waited patiently for their turn and actually asked how we (as people) were doing. I think they must have worked in retail at some point in their life. All this to remind you...the people behind the counter are just like you. They may or may not be as educated as you, or have had the opportunities that you have had. On the other hand, some of them may be working there just for the discount! Please remember, grunting and making comments under your breath does not help us do our job more quickly. In fact, it makes us flustered and we will probably take longer than we would otherwise because we are rushing. We are doing the best we can. So, the next time you are standing in a line that is out the door and thinking, "If I were behind the counter, this would be going a lot faster," take a deep breath and remember when you were actually in this position. You never know...you could one day be back there.
Try to help us make this a positive experience for everyone. Just be kind...rewind. :-)
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