Unfortunately, I will be working tonight while everyone attends fun parties, but that is alright. I like Halloween, but it is not my die hard favorite holiday like it is for some. I think my lack of creativity ruins it for me. I am always amazed at the people that think of the most random things to dress up as, and spend weeks gluing things together, and adding that final ribbon so they can win that first place trophy for best costume. I wish I had that talent.
Because I don't, I am going to write about another side of Halloween that I think we have all recognized. American women seem split right down the middle as to whether it is ok to use Halloween as an excuse to dress up in your most provocative outfit and walk around. I am not one of these people. A friend and I were laughing the other day about how many costumes are sold each year simply by putting the word "Sexy" in front of the noun. "Sexy witch, sexy fairy, sexy mouse??" are just a few of the ones that I have seen. My friend bought the "Sexy Cruella de Ville" costume (not a joke) a few years ago just to use the wig.
Don't get me wrong, I tried the "sexy" look my freshman year in college. The problem was, I did not consider the multiple pounds I had put in in the first few months after leaving home, and the sexy nurse and sexy fairy that I tried to pull off were just a mess. And let's not forget that October 31 is well into fall. Those costumes do not allow for a sweatshirt to keep you warm!
Going to school in New Orleans was a treat for many reasons, but Halloween was a major celebration. We dressed up for a week and never felt out of place. You could wear a purple wig out a week before Halloween and people would just walk by without blinking an eye. (Four of us did this, along with purple eye lashes....) After that first year I began to think about what would be comfortable. Think about how much you walk when you are in college. So first on my list was how I could incorporate tennis shoes into my outfit. Sophomore year, my roommates and I went as a Happy Meal. I was the Big Mac, with two sets of fries and a milkshake in tow. We got those packets of ketchup and mustard and glued them to barrettes for our hair, threw on a pair of jeans and were good to go.
Junior year I was several things, including a green M&M, but the most memorable was an incredibly politically incorrect cab driver. If I ever run for office, those pictures will need to be burned. However, once again, I was able to make jeans a part of the costume. I think my senior year my roommate and I went as jailbirds. We bought prisoner costumes and walked around. The felt like pajamas, I kept on my tennis shoes and I was comfortable all night.
As we have gotten older, it seems like Halloween is more fun for my friends who have kids. Who doesn't want to see a little 2 year old dressed up in something that she cannot pronounce? Instead, I look forward to completing a long day at work, coming home and drinking a glass of wine. Maybe I will just throw on a witch hat to be festive. Enjoy the day and be safe!!
PS - Happy Birthday R.K. Coley!!!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Been Busy!
Well, I haven't forgotten about y'all. Things have just gotten a little crazy for a few reasons. I will start with the least fun and move on to the fun stuff!
1) My job. Holy moly. I have been working like a mad man because a) the pizzeria is understaffed and b) I am trying to make as much money as possible. As I told you before, I have now been promoted to server and have started my training. I am actually pretty terrified because I broke two glasses throughout the night yesterday just attempting to clean tables! The hilarious thing is since this "promotion" I am suddenly in the waitress' clique. People who used to walk by me without saying a word are now speaking to me. I am slowly moving up the restaurant chain. My parents should be so proud.
A few things I would like to remind you of the next time you go to dinner. When you ask the hostess how long the wait is, she has absolutely NO IDEA. She is literally spewing numbers out of her mouth and hoping that people will get up in time so that you don't come yell at her. I have no idea how long it is going to take a table to chew their food, nor did they tell me whether they came for a quick meal or to catch up for several hours. Yelling at me about the people who are not moving will not help your situation and I may just skip you!
In addition to that, do not use your children as a prop because you are hungry and grumpy. I would never have believed that parents would stoop so low, but I have encountered multiple parents who have no shame. They come to me with this pathetic look on their face informing me that their child is about to faint because he/she has not eaten. When I look over and see the child running around the restaurant (or wheeling with those super annoying tennis shoes) I have a hard time believing you. If your child is legitimately hungry, quite honestly this is not my problem. You chose to bring them to a restaurant at 8:30 without giving them a little snack before hand. Don't blame the hostess.
Finally, I am over the cute kid act. I don't care how cute your child is. I am not a babysitter. Parents seem to think it is adorable to watch their child run around the restaurant or bang on the windows into the kitchen. I have seen parents take pictures. This is not a joke.
Regardless, I will continue to move up the food industry's ladder until a real 9-5 job comes along.
2) The next thing that is going on is that I am trying (and I stress the word trying) to sell my house in Mississippi. Don't worry, it is not just sitting on the market. I have a buyer and almost all the closing papers have been signed. However, without going into detail, I have alienated the title broker who was working with me because I told her she was incompetent, and since then have alienated their in house lawyer by expressing my feelings of incompetence by the previous worker, as well as questioning the attorney's ethics. We are all now communicating by email.
3) Finally - did you know I am planning a wedding??!! I am having so much fun, but it is hard not to get carried away by the ads for things that you "must have" at your reception/ceremony etc. We have nailed a lot of things down, but it is hard because I am not in Birmingham. Lucky for me, my sisters (maids of honor) are there. Julia returned from Iceland for a quick week before she leaves for the Caribbean (who ever thought I would write that sentence??) She was able to plot out logistics and crunch numbers with my mother. My entire family has participated in tasting and deciding on our wedding cake, and my youngest sister and mother will be sampling the food for the reception. So, if you show up to the wedding and are disappointed with the selection, don't blame me!!
I have 10 bridesmaids. I know, it is a lot, but if you are realistic, we have been dating so long that I have had time to accumulate more friends than the average bride. I asked my girls, got the dresses and am planning parties. In the meantime, Mike has asked no one. We may have a lopsided wedding. Mike has also decided what song he wants our first dance to be. I am not telling you what it is, but this is also still very much up for discussion.
That's about it. I have to head back to work at 3:30 today. I am staring at the vacuum cleaner that I pulled out about 5 days ago but have not actually used....maybe today. Have a great rest of the weekend!
1) My job. Holy moly. I have been working like a mad man because a) the pizzeria is understaffed and b) I am trying to make as much money as possible. As I told you before, I have now been promoted to server and have started my training. I am actually pretty terrified because I broke two glasses throughout the night yesterday just attempting to clean tables! The hilarious thing is since this "promotion" I am suddenly in the waitress' clique. People who used to walk by me without saying a word are now speaking to me. I am slowly moving up the restaurant chain. My parents should be so proud.
A few things I would like to remind you of the next time you go to dinner. When you ask the hostess how long the wait is, she has absolutely NO IDEA. She is literally spewing numbers out of her mouth and hoping that people will get up in time so that you don't come yell at her. I have no idea how long it is going to take a table to chew their food, nor did they tell me whether they came for a quick meal or to catch up for several hours. Yelling at me about the people who are not moving will not help your situation and I may just skip you!
In addition to that, do not use your children as a prop because you are hungry and grumpy. I would never have believed that parents would stoop so low, but I have encountered multiple parents who have no shame. They come to me with this pathetic look on their face informing me that their child is about to faint because he/she has not eaten. When I look over and see the child running around the restaurant (or wheeling with those super annoying tennis shoes) I have a hard time believing you. If your child is legitimately hungry, quite honestly this is not my problem. You chose to bring them to a restaurant at 8:30 without giving them a little snack before hand. Don't blame the hostess.
Finally, I am over the cute kid act. I don't care how cute your child is. I am not a babysitter. Parents seem to think it is adorable to watch their child run around the restaurant or bang on the windows into the kitchen. I have seen parents take pictures. This is not a joke.
Regardless, I will continue to move up the food industry's ladder until a real 9-5 job comes along.
2) The next thing that is going on is that I am trying (and I stress the word trying) to sell my house in Mississippi. Don't worry, it is not just sitting on the market. I have a buyer and almost all the closing papers have been signed. However, without going into detail, I have alienated the title broker who was working with me because I told her she was incompetent, and since then have alienated their in house lawyer by expressing my feelings of incompetence by the previous worker, as well as questioning the attorney's ethics. We are all now communicating by email.
3) Finally - did you know I am planning a wedding??!! I am having so much fun, but it is hard not to get carried away by the ads for things that you "must have" at your reception/ceremony etc. We have nailed a lot of things down, but it is hard because I am not in Birmingham. Lucky for me, my sisters (maids of honor) are there. Julia returned from Iceland for a quick week before she leaves for the Caribbean (who ever thought I would write that sentence??) She was able to plot out logistics and crunch numbers with my mother. My entire family has participated in tasting and deciding on our wedding cake, and my youngest sister and mother will be sampling the food for the reception. So, if you show up to the wedding and are disappointed with the selection, don't blame me!!
I have 10 bridesmaids. I know, it is a lot, but if you are realistic, we have been dating so long that I have had time to accumulate more friends than the average bride. I asked my girls, got the dresses and am planning parties. In the meantime, Mike has asked no one. We may have a lopsided wedding. Mike has also decided what song he wants our first dance to be. I am not telling you what it is, but this is also still very much up for discussion.
That's about it. I have to head back to work at 3:30 today. I am staring at the vacuum cleaner that I pulled out about 5 days ago but have not actually used....maybe today. Have a great rest of the weekend!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
So You Want to Run a Marathon
Four days after completing the Chicago marathon, I say, "Go for it!" We had a wonderful time before the race exploring Chicago and feeling the energy of the city. The awesome thing about this race is that approximately 45,000 people run it every year. This makes for quite a crowd when you start running, but also ensures that you are never on long stretches of road by yourself. Additionally, all the people running have people cheering for them. There were TONS of people on the road wherever we went, which really helped to motivate me and keep me going. (I will tell you that the people that thought cow bells would be helpful in my racing were wrong.)
We left for Chicago Friday night and I watched the outside temperature drop as we drove further and further north. A cold front had already come through St. Louis, but not once had I whipped out gloves or a hat to run this year. When we checked in, it was 35 degrees. The next day I bought a new pink cap and some super professional running gloves. (One of those is laying on the street somewhere along the 26.2 miles I crossed.)
We got up Sunday morning for the race, which began at 7:30. By then my nerves had calmed, as I thought I was going to throw up the entire weekend. I kept wondering what in the world had motivated me to be standing in the middle of a freezing cold town, about to run the distance between two small cities. I decided the day before that I was going to run with a pace group. This is when you choose a time that you want to finish in and then stick with the group who will keep you on pace for the race. Let me tell you, if this is your first race, screw the pace group. I signed up for the 4 hour 30 minute, planning to beat Oprah's time of 4 hours and 28 minutes by speeding up at the end. Looking back, the words, "Speeding up at the end" are laughable. I suggest you simply run to finish. About halfway through the race, I ripped the 4:30 sign off my back because I was annoyed that I had drifted two pace groups behind.
One thing people told me was not to start out to quickly. Well, even if I wanted to, this is impossible. Imagine a line with 45,000 people in it beginning to move. We were in the middle so even as the gun went off, we were not moving. They give you these handy little chips to tie to your shoe to track your actual time, rather than the Nigerian at the front of the line.
Some things people forgot to tell me: You are going to have to go to the bathroom if you are running for almost 5 hours and drinking water/Gatorade at every stop. I am not going to go into detail about this, but I was annoyed because as I waited in line, the time ticked on. I kept track of how long I was actually running with my own watch.
Second, you may have heard me talk about chaffing. I thought I would be fine because I wore leggings, and my muscular thighs would not be able to run together. No. Somehow after that long, your body will find ways to tell you what you are doing is ridiculous. I have the imprint of my sports bra rubbed across my torso.
Thirdly, not one training program suggests that you run the entire 26.2 miles before the race. The max that I have seen suggested is 22 miles. My max was 19. Regardless, you are warned that you may hit the dreaded "Wall." This is when your body essentially stops working with you because it is so annoyed by what you are doing to it. I would say that 20 miles was right about when that hit me. Suddenly my legs felt like lead and the thought of continuing on for at least another hour was miserable. It all becomes a mental game at that point. So, I continued to get my Gatorade, but found that when I walked through the station, starting back up was like trying to lift up a car. I stopped walking through and just threw liquids towards my face after that.
Then there are people on the sidelines yelling, "Don't stop now! You are almost there!" I appreciated the support, but I wanted to yell back that 5 miles was not "almost there" in my book. Seeing the finish line would be "almost there." When I got to mile 25 I saw Mike. I was so relieved and happy that I started crying, but I couldn't stop because I knew I wouldn't be able to start again. When you see the sign for 26 miles it is such a relief, yet such a tease because you still have that .2 to go. Luckily for us, the designers of the race made our .2 miles straight uphill. How sadistic is that? But I made it. I may not have beaten Oprah, but I ran the whole way and now have a time that I want to beat on my own.
So, I will give myself some time, and hopefully start training for another one at some point. It is addictive, and I think everyone should do it!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Question
So, I just took a quiz (albeit on Facebook) and it says that my ideal job is to be a teacher. I have to confess, this is something I have considered in the past. Thoughts? I am really struggling with my path right now....
There's No Business....
Well, things have going pretty well at the restaurant, so I haven't had to much to report. Then over the past week...explosion. It all started with good news. My manager pulled me over to discuss me being promoted to SERVER!! (It's the little things people.) A ton of people have quit so there is now an opening for me to actually serve food rather than cleaning bathrooms, windows and menus. My manager was very serious as she spoke to me about this apparently major change. I would have to find people to cover my shifts. (Check. Already have to do that.) I would be working more. (Awesome. I have been complaining that bill collectors are going to come take me away.) I told my manager to consider me ready.
During this transition, I am still completing my duties as a peon. The other day I heard a noise that sounded like a cross between the exorcist and a baby. As I turned around a noticed a child with a little bit of spit up on his chest. I didn't think twice about it until the mother called me over. She showed me the floor underneath their table was covered in vomit. (If you read this blog regularly, you will recall that the same thing happened to me while I was working at PBK.) I went to get my manager. I was trying to call "not it" but I was the only peon working that evening. My manager informed me that he is willing to do pretty much anything, but when it comes to vomit, he cannot handle the smell. As I was searching for a mop, the bartender told me that he would take care of it. Direct quote from my new favorite bartender: "Jenny, you don't make enough money to do this. I'll clean it up." I was amazed and so happy! However, we still had to apologize to the customers in the restaurant because of the horrible smell. And, oh yes, the parents fled the restaurant as soon as the bill was paid and never offered to help.
Then came yesterday. I ran across the street because I was already late (by 3 minutes.) A different manager (I have 3) tapped the clock to show me that it was in fact 5:03. That's annoying. I began my chores, and was wiping down some windows when a lady came out of the bathroom to tell us that the toilet was flooding. WHAT? I began to think, "Well, that sucks for the women that come here for dinner tonight! I guess they will have to call a plumber." Nope. Did you know that server assistant also stands for plumber? I am not kidding. Keep reading. My manager who would not clean up the vomit grabbed a mop and started trying to mop up about 3 inches of water. I simply suggested that he use towels rather than a mop, and somehow I had recruited myself to help clean up the mess.
First, the manager tells me to go find a mop. I found the handle, but couldn't find the moppy part. I asked the manager what a mop head looks like. He looked shocked, but when is the last time you mopped with an industrial sized mop head? Believe me, they look different. So, I bring my mop into the bathroom and sort of try to act like I am doing something without actually getting into the mess. After a few minutes of moving the water around, my manager suggested we get some towels. (Brilliant.) So please picture me. I am squatting down, latex gloves on, while throwing towels around the bathroom. I let my manager actually rub them in that filthy water and then squeeze them out. I suggested that we get one of those big "Careful - Wet floor" signs and was able to manipulate my way out of the job. I took my gloves off and hid behind the desk while he finished up. I'm sorry, but that is so not part of my job description.
So, I continue on my quest for a 9-5 job. One which allows me to interact with the majority of the public and does not allow me to sleep until noon each day. One which allows me to go to dinner with the few friends I have and ensures me that I will have weekends off. The quest continues, but until then, I am quite sure there will be more entertaining stories to come.
During this transition, I am still completing my duties as a peon. The other day I heard a noise that sounded like a cross between the exorcist and a baby. As I turned around a noticed a child with a little bit of spit up on his chest. I didn't think twice about it until the mother called me over. She showed me the floor underneath their table was covered in vomit. (If you read this blog regularly, you will recall that the same thing happened to me while I was working at PBK.) I went to get my manager. I was trying to call "not it" but I was the only peon working that evening. My manager informed me that he is willing to do pretty much anything, but when it comes to vomit, he cannot handle the smell. As I was searching for a mop, the bartender told me that he would take care of it. Direct quote from my new favorite bartender: "Jenny, you don't make enough money to do this. I'll clean it up." I was amazed and so happy! However, we still had to apologize to the customers in the restaurant because of the horrible smell. And, oh yes, the parents fled the restaurant as soon as the bill was paid and never offered to help.
Then came yesterday. I ran across the street because I was already late (by 3 minutes.) A different manager (I have 3) tapped the clock to show me that it was in fact 5:03. That's annoying. I began my chores, and was wiping down some windows when a lady came out of the bathroom to tell us that the toilet was flooding. WHAT? I began to think, "Well, that sucks for the women that come here for dinner tonight! I guess they will have to call a plumber." Nope. Did you know that server assistant also stands for plumber? I am not kidding. Keep reading. My manager who would not clean up the vomit grabbed a mop and started trying to mop up about 3 inches of water. I simply suggested that he use towels rather than a mop, and somehow I had recruited myself to help clean up the mess.
First, the manager tells me to go find a mop. I found the handle, but couldn't find the moppy part. I asked the manager what a mop head looks like. He looked shocked, but when is the last time you mopped with an industrial sized mop head? Believe me, they look different. So, I bring my mop into the bathroom and sort of try to act like I am doing something without actually getting into the mess. After a few minutes of moving the water around, my manager suggested we get some towels. (Brilliant.) So please picture me. I am squatting down, latex gloves on, while throwing towels around the bathroom. I let my manager actually rub them in that filthy water and then squeeze them out. I suggested that we get one of those big "Careful - Wet floor" signs and was able to manipulate my way out of the job. I took my gloves off and hid behind the desk while he finished up. I'm sorry, but that is so not part of my job description.
So, I continue on my quest for a 9-5 job. One which allows me to interact with the majority of the public and does not allow me to sleep until noon each day. One which allows me to go to dinner with the few friends I have and ensures me that I will have weekends off. The quest continues, but until then, I am quite sure there will be more entertaining stories to come.
Monday, October 5, 2009
The Conference
If you are wondering what I did this weekend, I promise you will never guess. For the second year in a row, I attended a knitting conference with my mother and sister. Yes, you read correctly. There are actual places where people get together in order to knit. My mom started knitting several years ago and has made some amazing things for us. She has also met some really neat people through the store where she buys her knitting supplies. And so, every October, several groups of knitters from around Alabama drive to Fairhope, AL to stay in the Grand Hotel and knit chemo caps at night. (Not creepy like vampires, but they just do other things during the day.)
The best part is that I really get a mini vacation with my mom and whichever sister is around at that time. Last year Julia and I had a great time sitting by the pool sipping frozen drinks and exploring the spa area. This year, Laura, my mom and I also enjoyed the spa area, and searched for (and found!) a wedding dress and mother of the bride dress. I am not really going to go into the part because I don't want this blog to be a count down until the day of our wedding. Besides, you know something had to go wrong that I would have to write about.
If you recall, my marathon is in exactly 6 days. I am so scared, particularly since my running schedule has waned over the past few weeks. This weekend I was supposed to run 8 miles. Once we found the dress shop, I realized that it was only 4 miles from our hotel. My excellent plan was to run to the shop and straight back. I think there was only 1 turn, so it was a no fail plan. Except. I got up Sunday morning and noticed it was dreary outside, but knew that I had to get that run in. (I skipped the previous week's 12 miles.) Anyway, I started running and was doing fine. Then I noticed I was running...and running...and the dress shop didn't seem to be getting any closer. I still don't know where it went when I finally turned around. As I headed back to the hotel, I began to question whether I had seen large architectural structures before. Did I pass the Fairhope Library on the way out? I didn't think so. Where did the Fairhope Hospital come from?
I finally waved down a cable guy when I was completely turned around. I know, "Stranger Danger" but I had no idea where I was and it was raining! The cable guy told me I was 7 miles away from my hotel. I had been gone for 2 hours. He asked if I wanted to use his phone to call a cab. I asked him if he knew any cab numbers there. Negative. Then I tried to call my mom's cell phone. I thought my sister picked up and she sounded super excited to talk to me. Then I realized I had punched in one of my best friend's numbers. Dang speed dial. I don't know anyone's numbers anymore. Finally, we called information and called our room. My mom got directions to the BP that the cable guy was about to drive me to. (I know.)
Did you think the story was over? Nope. I went into the BP and asked for a Gatorade, assuring the cashier that I would pay as soon as mom arrived. I kept walking in and out of the gas station because it was freezing in the store, but it was freezing and raining outside. I was miserable. 30 minutes later, I decided to attempt to call my mother's cell phone. Of course, she has gotten lost. The BP lady offered to bring me back to the hotel and I accepted. I never paid for the Gatorade. I am not proud of my actions and do not recommend them to anyone, but I had a streak of luck.
I made it back to the hotel and slept the entire way home. All in all it was a successful weekend with just that one incident. See how much trouble exercise can be??
The best part is that I really get a mini vacation with my mom and whichever sister is around at that time. Last year Julia and I had a great time sitting by the pool sipping frozen drinks and exploring the spa area. This year, Laura, my mom and I also enjoyed the spa area, and searched for (and found!) a wedding dress and mother of the bride dress. I am not really going to go into the part because I don't want this blog to be a count down until the day of our wedding. Besides, you know something had to go wrong that I would have to write about.
If you recall, my marathon is in exactly 6 days. I am so scared, particularly since my running schedule has waned over the past few weeks. This weekend I was supposed to run 8 miles. Once we found the dress shop, I realized that it was only 4 miles from our hotel. My excellent plan was to run to the shop and straight back. I think there was only 1 turn, so it was a no fail plan. Except. I got up Sunday morning and noticed it was dreary outside, but knew that I had to get that run in. (I skipped the previous week's 12 miles.) Anyway, I started running and was doing fine. Then I noticed I was running...and running...and the dress shop didn't seem to be getting any closer. I still don't know where it went when I finally turned around. As I headed back to the hotel, I began to question whether I had seen large architectural structures before. Did I pass the Fairhope Library on the way out? I didn't think so. Where did the Fairhope Hospital come from?
I finally waved down a cable guy when I was completely turned around. I know, "Stranger Danger" but I had no idea where I was and it was raining! The cable guy told me I was 7 miles away from my hotel. I had been gone for 2 hours. He asked if I wanted to use his phone to call a cab. I asked him if he knew any cab numbers there. Negative. Then I tried to call my mom's cell phone. I thought my sister picked up and she sounded super excited to talk to me. Then I realized I had punched in one of my best friend's numbers. Dang speed dial. I don't know anyone's numbers anymore. Finally, we called information and called our room. My mom got directions to the BP that the cable guy was about to drive me to. (I know.)
Did you think the story was over? Nope. I went into the BP and asked for a Gatorade, assuring the cashier that I would pay as soon as mom arrived. I kept walking in and out of the gas station because it was freezing in the store, but it was freezing and raining outside. I was miserable. 30 minutes later, I decided to attempt to call my mother's cell phone. Of course, she has gotten lost. The BP lady offered to bring me back to the hotel and I accepted. I never paid for the Gatorade. I am not proud of my actions and do not recommend them to anyone, but I had a streak of luck.
I made it back to the hotel and slept the entire way home. All in all it was a successful weekend with just that one incident. See how much trouble exercise can be??
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)