Happy holidays!

So, since I didn’t do a holiday post, I thought I’d do one now. It’s still the season, right?

I worked in retail for about 8 years. I started my career as a flipper of gyros in our local mall's food court. My family was friends with the owners and my brother already worked there, so I had an in. I made a mean gyro sandwich, let me tell you. Since I was a girl, I had to stay in the back, making sandwiches and washing dishes.  I certainly wasn’t allowed to work the cash register. (Not sure the owner knew that not only could I add, I could subtract, too.)

I lasted there about a year until a friend told me of an opening where she worked. I threw away my blue grease-stained work shirt and ran for the hills (or down the hall of the mall, as it were).

PS.  It took 3 months to get the smell of onions off my hands.

My next job took me to an overpriced men’s clothing store. It was a fairly easy job, we didn’t get as many customers as my friends did at the Gap or Limited. While that was fine with me, I also didn’t get the discounts my friends were getting, unless I wanted a new suit, which… I didn’t. But, there were a few things I learned while working there:

How to fold a sweater properly. You think you know how to do this until you learn The Way of Clothing Store Employees. I still fold my sweaters like this. I will teach my children’s children how to fold sweaters properly. It’ll be my mark on the world.

How to tie a bow tie. It’s easy once you practice for a few days. Did I mention it wasn’t very busy there?

How to tie a regular tie. And I’m not just talking one way. I could do a Double Windsor, the Half Windsor, The Prince Albert and the Four In Hand.

How to close a store for good. In my tenure with the company, I closed down 2 stores. Not that it had anything to do with me, but you can call me The Closer.

Through my years in retail, Christmas was the best and worst time of year. Worst, because we were working long hours and had actual customers. Best, because we were all hopped up on sugar and alcohol (which we liked to call the Christmas Spirit) and customers made us laugh.

One of my dearest friends worked with me and we used to come up with some good lists. One Christmas, we came up with a list of things we really wanted to say to customers. And since we’re ending the holiday season, I thought I’d say thanks to the great mall employees who have to deal with our sorry asses.

And I’m glad I’m not one of you anymore.

Top 10 Things We Really Want to Say to Customers

10. Okay, it's 8:59, time to go. There's a reason we shut off the music and lights.
9. No, we are NOT a Christian book store!
8. Socks do not make great Christmas gifts.
7. Really? You want me to wrap? And you actually want it to look nice?
6. You know, they have complimentary gift wrap down at Customer Service.
5. Or you could wrap it yourself.
4. Hey, I just folded that sweater. Oh, don't pretend you know the right way to refold it.
3. You're not seriously buying that, are you?
2. No, you cannot have four boxes for one sweater.
1. Would you like your receipt in the bag or up your ass?

The Pepsi Challenge

So, almost my entire life, I've been a Coca-Cola drinker. When I was young, however, we always had Pepsi in the house, so it's not like I don't know what it tastes like. But, since I've been making my own decisions about what to drink, I've picked Coke.

For one, I think Pepsi is too sweet and leaves a gritty feeling afterward. I have never had this problem with Coke. Plus, my mom told me that Coke will settle your stomach and, since I have stomach problems, I figure drinking Coke all the time will help nip those problems in the bud.

I prefer Coke to be of the fountain variety. McDonald's has a great fountain Coke. I think it's the big straw. Really helps with a hangover. Second place goes to Coke in a can. Then the 2-liter. And lastly, if there was no other way and I was stranded on a desert island with nothing but the 20-ounce bottle, I'll take the 20-ounce bottle.

Yes, they all taste different.

Because I am such a connoisseur of Coke, I thought I'd pass The Pepsi Challenge my co-worker put together with flying colors ("thought" being the operative word here).

Here are the rules.

- You need 6 pairs to test, one Pepsi and one Coke in each round.
- Drink.
- Um, pick which is Pepsi and which is Coke in each round.

According to my co-worker, there's only a 10% chance of getting them all right (or even 5 out of 6) the first time. Pashaw, I say! How difficult could it be? I have been drinking Coke almost exclusively since I was a teenager. And I've drunk enough Pepsi to know I don't prefer it. I would surely win, no?

No.

I got 1 out of 6 right.

I shook my head in confusion. Surely, this was a mistake. Could all I know about Coke be wrong? Do I actually prefer Pepsi? Is the world flat?!

What I really think is that my co-worker mixed up his Cokes and his Pepsis and, in reality, I got 5 out of 6 right, and, therefore, he owes me a dollar.

But, fine, if I was wrong (I'm willing to accept defeat once), I demand a retest. This time with fountain pop. I'll be sure to get 100%. I don't care what his little Excel spreadsheet says.

Dude, where's my cat?

(disclaimer: I apologize to anyone I might offend, especially all you hoarders out there - it's a real disease)

So, the husband and I watched the best (and most horrifying) show in the world last night. It's called "Hoarders" on A&E. It follows the lives of people who keep everything. And when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING.

Including garbage.

And poop.

POOP, people! And they walk around barefoot through this garbage.

And POOP!

I know I shouldn't be laughing at their misfortune. By watching this show, I have learned that hoarding is a real disorder and they can't help themselves. But, this one lady? She was so awesome. She didn't think she had a problem. And she was mad at her daughter and son for coming in there to disrupt her mess. So, while these men in masks and gloves came in there to shovel out all her garbage (seriously, you couldn't pay me enough), she was complaining to the camera that she'll never be able to find anything now. hee. Although she did tell them that she was missing her teeth. And if they found them, please don't throw them away.

I told the husband that if the men found her teeth and she put them right into her mouth, we were changing the channel.

But the best part was when they found a dead cat (A CAT!) under her pile of garbage in the family room. She was sitting outside in her rocking chair, eating what looked like a raw hot dog (no bun), when her daughter came out to tell her they just found a cat. And the lady was all, "A cayat?!" (she's from Louisiana - just another reason Louisiana should NOT be #1 in the best states poll)

Man, that part was hysterical. Was she really surprised they found a dead animal? I was half expecting them to find her dead husband. The cat was as flat as a pancake.  My husband and I were crying, we were laughing so hard.

"There you are, Fluffy!"

Then?  They found another dead cat in the kitchen.

"And here's Mittens."

Aaanyway, the show ended with the house cleaned and the woman (sort of) appreciative. She cried when they got her a new recliner (the one and only time she showed any emotion other than anger), so I guess that's something. Her children don't expect this will last. So then... what was the point of the show?

I am not a hoarder, but I have been known to keep some things. Our house seems to be the breeding ground for paper.  From now on, though, everything is going in the trash. I almost got out of bed last night to dust and vacuum.

You won't find my cat under a pile of garbage (and POOP!), no sir.

What a surprise. Not.

So, I was reading an article about the happiest states in the US and found that Ohio came in at number 44. Out of 51. Yeeeeahhh. Shocker!  Why do I live here again?

But, because I live here, I have to disagree with the list. The article said that this was based on a survey that basically asked people if they're happy. Well, sure. Who's going to say no except for the hard-working, honest people in places like Cleveland, Ohio? The weather's crappy, the job market sucks, we have a terrible football team. The only reason we're here is because our family is here. But, family makes us happy, so therefore, I believe we're happier than people in, say, Louisiana.

Also, it is my belief that most people are dumber below the Mason-Dixon Line (if the Mason-Dixon Line extended through the continental US). Their language is foreign to me - they have no qualms about double negatives, they take the 'g' off any word ending in 'ing,' they have a twang that just grates on your nerves. So, really, what do these people know about happiness? They can't even drive in snow.

So, take at least 20 states above Ohio off the list.

Then you've got those pesky states in the middle of the country. Very few people know exactly where Montana, Nebraska or the Dakotas are. That would make me unhappy.

And what about the southwest? The people are melting out there. They can't possibly be happy about that.

It rains all the time in Washington and Oregon, so those people certainly aren't happy.

Utah has the Mormons, you know they're unhappy.

That means Ohio should at least rank in the top 5. Right after Hawaii (because, really, who can't be happy in Hawaii), Colorado (which is just a cool state), Alaska (because you'd have to be crazy to live there and all crazy people are happy) and Massachusetts (for the wicked Bahstahn accent alone).

(My apologies to any state mentioned above I may have offended. Give me a break, I'm from Ohio.)

Tis the season

So, I was at the mall yesterday, amidst the throngs of Christmas shoppers. I happened upon the line for Santa Claus, which was long, but not too bad, and witnessed the funniest thing ever.

After taking a picture with Santa, a father handed his 4-year-old daughter $5. This man had to BRIBE his daughter to take a picture with Santa? What is the world coming to?

Taking money to sit on an old fat guy's lap? Gives new meaning to the words "ho ho ho."

Fine, I admit it

So, I was driving home from work the other day and was stopped at a red light. I looked over at the car next to me on the right and saw a women singing at the top of her lungs. This made me laugh out loud. Man, she looked hilarious. But then I realized I am also a car singer. Is this what I look like every time I jam to 2Pac? Yikes.

See, the car rides to and from work are pretty much the only times I have to myself. I certainly can't play the Notorious B.I.G. in the car with the boys. It's bad enough I have Andrew singing to Paul Anka. I can just hear him singing to his friends, "The world is filled with pimps and 'hos..."

Not only do I sing, but I dance in the car if it's a song I really like. I can just imagine what I look like to people on the outside. It's one thing to sing to a song while the windows are open and you can hear the music. It's quite another to see someone sing and bust a move when you can't hear what they're listening to.

It just looks like the person is having a seizure.

Yeah, I'm that guy.

My sister is funny

So, my sister sent me an email this morning.  I have copied and pasted for your enjoyment.  You're welcome.

I have a new favorite show. It's called Split Ends on the Style channel. It's like Wife Swap for hair stylists. So far I've only seen the (shhhh!) gays as swapees, and they're fabulous! Martine was from a high class Boca Raton salon and he was swapped with Seth from a retro vintage salon (complete with large ladies who had 60s big black dyed hair (and had their own rock band)). Imagine the antics that ensued! Martine, btw, is Atticus Sparticus from The Birdcage. I was surprised he wore shoes.

The next episode (a 2fer!) exchanges a Manhattan stylist with a Beverly Hills stylist. Again with the (shhh!) gays. Beverly Hills salon manager: "He'd better not come in here and think he's going to be bringing that fast-paced New York attitude!" Ooh, snap!

Annywayyyy... too little sleep is making me loopy. We had our EB party last night. Woo. Oh, but great news! I got a leopard Snuggie from the gift exchange!

(Ooh, BH guy whispers to the client that he's going to make her look a little more LA (because we all know LA people think everyone wishes they were in LA) and she stood up and said she thinks it's bad luck to change stylists. BH guy was flabbergasted!)

Heh. Fun in the morning!

Heeeee. Thanks, sista!

What the eff?

So, I was amused all day today at work. I have no idea why, but that's not the point of this story anyway.

There is a mirror by the back door of the office, so, on my way out, I checked myself to see how scary I had become over the course of the day. I find I look worse and worse as the day goes on. (Surprisingly, I had a friend tell me once that she looks better as the day goes on. I don't know anyone who's like that, so I think she's lying but I'll take her word for it.)

Anyway, I looked and noticed I had a grayish line on either side of my mouth. I thought it was dirt or something, but after further scrutiny, I realized it was a wrinkle! My all-day smirk had created creases in my face! Is it permanent? Am I really old enough to get wrinkles?

Damn. This sucks.

I remember, in high school, someone asked my brother why I never smiled. Well, this must be the reason! Who wants wrinkles?!

It is a few hours later and no amount of tugging or pulling has helped unwrinkle me.

Paul Anka, baby!

So, back in 1982 and again in 1986, my family and I made the cross-country expedition to California to visit my mom's sister and family. 5 days in the family truckster, there and back, making the total car time 10 days x 8 hours at least each day. That's 80 hours in a car filled to the brim with people and luggage. You can imagine the great memories I have of these trips.

What I remember mostly is my older brother with strep throat and me throwing up at the Grand Canyon. Great memories. In addition to these memories, we had the musical soundtrack for the ages:

Peter, Paul and Mary
Barry Manilow
Kenny Rogers
the Carpenters and, last but not least,
Paul Anka

My iPod contains all of these albums, except for the damn Paul Anka. And it wasn't just any old Paul Anka album. It was Both Sides of Love, circa 1981 (8-track, no less). It must have been his worst selling album because you can't find it anywhere. His website barely references it. But let me tell you, it's a great album. My siblings and I all agree it's a great album. One year, my younger brother was able to find the LP, which he recorded onto cassette tapes to give to us as Christmas presents.

But, as 8-tracks have become obsolete, so have cassette tapes. So, I have been on quest to find a CD of this album, which will complete the "California" collection on my iPod. Of course, I realize since this album was such a flop, they never rerecorded it. Forget finding an original recording on CD. But, I was able to find someone who recorded the LP onto CD, which works just as well for me. It arrived in the mail today and I am now happily singing along to, "Roses ain't red, violets ain't blue-ue-ue. Sugar ain't sweet and I don't love you."

C'mon, that's lyrical genius.

Me vs. The Expert

So, we had dinner at Mom and Dad's Sunday evening. During dinner, I had told my dad how the painting was coming along at the house. My dad was proud to hear that I had done some of the painting myself, but then offered his services. My dad is retired and, since golf season is coming to a close, has nothing to do. Because my dad is an expert painter and someone I love dearly, I happily hired him. His first day was yesterday.

He first came to the house around 11am. He decided his first task was to clean up the mess I had made the previous day. He assessed the damage, made note of the things he would need to get the job done and left. He returned with his painting gear and was ready to get busy.

Let me give you the differences between the Expert Painter (EP) and me (ME):

ME: Before painting, took down window treatments (I actually thought I was being fairly proactive and awesome with this task).
EP: Before painting, removed all chairs and anything else that might get in his way instead of just working around (and tripping over) like I did.
EP: Moved the table from the center of the room (might I also add he did all this without me noticing - I went into the room at one point to find furniture moved or gone - does he have Jedi powers?  That shit is heavy!).

ME: Tried to use a drop cloth, but once I moved, it did not move with me (hence, the reason we need new carpeting).
EP: Used more than one drop cloth, as well as had the drip tray in his other hand while he painted. Now that's talent!

EP: Painted with easy, graceful strokes. He even taught my 5-year-old how to paint like an expert.
ME: Not graceful. Not easy. Kind of painful once I had to paint above me.

I think I made the right decision retiring from painting. I'll stick to the job of picking paint colors.

Thanks for your help, Daddy! (And yes, I call him Daddy. Shut up.)

Painting. Sucks.

So, the husband and I have taken on the gigantic task of painting the wood molding throughout our house white. And by "husband and I," I mean "husband". Whose dumb idea was this? Since he's the one doing most of the work, you can bet it wasn't him. However, he has realized the decorating genius I am and has agreed the white molding looks 1,000 times better.

Because he has been painting every day for at least a week straight, I thought I'd be a good wife and help ease some of the burden. So, while he has been out golfing today, I painted the molding in the dining room (easily the smallest room in our house - I'm no dummy).

I started out very careful. Both the living room and dining room are the same green color. We have been considering painting the dining room a deep wine color. (After I got some white primer on the green wall, that decision was easily made for us.) Now that I knew I could get paint on the walls, I painted with reckless abandon. By the time I got to the crown molding on top, it was more slathering than painting.

And I think I painted the windows shut.

And honey? Sorry about the paint on the carpeting. Looks like we'll be replacing that, too.

This will, most likely, be my one and only attempt at painting the house.

(oh, and does anyone know how to get paint off the fabric of my dining room chairs?)

Encore encore

So, the husband and I went on a double date with my wonderful cousins this past weekend. We went to see the opera, Don Giovanni. As this was my first time at the opera, I wasn't sure what to expect. I kept thinking back to the opera scene of Pretty Woman, where Richard Gere tells Julia Roberts that you either love the opera or hate the opera (more or less). I, of course, was hoping to love the opera, to become all cultured and shit.

I wasn't disappointed.

First off, I wasn't expecting it to be funny. I thought I was going to cry like Julia Roberts did. (I realize how sad it is that I'm basing my opera expectations on a movie about a prostitute. Kind of cancels out me being all cultured.) Anyway, here's what I learned:

• Opera music is beautiful.
• Our dates were fun and entertaining (not that I didn't know that beforehand, of course, so I guess I didn't learn that).
• I like getting dressed up to go out.
• I want to speak Italian.

On the other hand...

• Opera thinks we're stupid. The singers repeat the same lines 3-4 times as if we didn't get it the first time. We got it. (PS. to all you opera snobs out there, I know that's not the reason they say the line 3-4 times.  I'm trying to be funny.)
• The subtitles don't repeat 3-4 times, so you think you're missing something when you're really not (hmm, maybe we are stupid).
• If they just sang the line once, the opera wouldn't take so long and my ass wouldn't have fallen asleep.

Wait, I said I liked the opera, right? I did. Really, I did.

But, for future, the opera would be better if:

1. They get more comfortable seating - like the new stadium seating in movie theaters.
2. The intermission was a tad bit longer. We barely had time to wait in line to use the restroom. And definitely no time for a drink (hence the reason for #3...)
3. They have concession people up and down the aisles throughout the entire show, like they do at sporting events (but no need to shout, "Popcorn! I gotchyer popcorn right here!").

Forget it. I am beyond help in the culture department.

Breakfast

So, I had an embarrassing coughing fit at work yesterday morning. I was just sitting at my desk, minding my own business. I was enjoying my coffee and dry Cinnamon Toast Crunch while surfing the internet (what?  it takes me a while to warm up to work) working hard.  I was working.

Do you ever notice how much cinnamon and sugar is on this cereal? When I eat it at home with milk, the milk dissolves most of it. Eating it dry, you're taking your life into your own hands.

I made the mistake of breathing in as I ate. Cinnamon and sugar galore rushed to the back of my throat. I coughed, which only made it worse. (Note to self: trying not to cough only makes you cough more.)

One co-worker asked if I was okay. I, of course, was choking and could not reply, but gave him a thumbs up. He offered water. Another co-worker came by with a cough drop.

Yes, these are the days of my life.

I *heart* HGTV

So, what do you need to do to get on HGTV? I know what I've said about people on reality TV, but, in my opinion, that opinion is null and void when you get a completely redecorated home. I don't care if people think I'm crazy as long as my house is pretty.

I could watch HGTV all day long. While I should be watching to get ideas to decorate our home ourselves, I am really just looking for my angle to get someone to do it for us. For free would be even better.

Specifically, I want Candace Olsen to come to my house. If anyone is looking for a birthday/Christmas/Mother's Day/Arbor Day present for me that'll last for the next 10 years, she's it. I want her to redo our kitchen and family room.

Okay?

Hello? Hello??

Thanks Mom!

So, of all the things I have inherited from my mother, why did I have to inherit the need to blow my nose after I eat? I swear, it's just another of those annoying traits we pass on to our children.

In addition to the running nose, I have acquired these awesome things from my mother:

• Her venting ability. She has this great way of telling it like it is without considering the ramifications. And once it's purged from her, all is forgotten. Except for the ones on the receiving end. The husband is real happy I got this one.

• The nervous stomach. My favorite. For most of my life, it has kept me from enjoying foods and basically being a normal person.

• Crying at movies. It doesn't matter how much of the movie we've seen, we can cry on cue at the sad parts. Clint Eastwood in the rain at the end of The Bridges of Madison County? Forget it. Strangely enough, we don't cry much at real life.

Why couldn't I have inherited some things from my dad?  He's intelligent, calm, rational.  All the things I aspire to be.  

Hopefully my kids will take after him. If not, we should buy stock in Kleenex.

Off the wagon

So, in the 5 years we've had children, I've probably had alcoholic beverages on 3 occasions. And the one time I got drunk (my 10-year class reunion - can you blame me?), I was laid up the entire next day. I wonder if it was the 2 packs of cigarettes I smoked that night?

At any rate, hangovers are not my friend. Especially when you have 2 young boys to care for the next day.

Over the last couple months, I've indulged in a few cocktails. I've realized that I am not 80 and I can enjoy a beverage or two (or four) if I want. I even found a wine that doesn't give me a hangover (even after drinking the entire bottle myself). I may not remember portions of the evening, but I didn't get sick. Success!

I found this wine at the wine bar near my office, so I frequent this place often. I get the same server every time and she knows my order. It's just like college! Hmm... not sure that's a good thing or a bad thing.

So, last night, we had a work happy hour and I, again, enjoyed my wine. After 3 glasses, I decided it was time to go. I came home, ate everything not nailed down and passed out. And this morning? I had a headache. I can't tell you how disappointed I was. Is my good run over?

I need some Motrin, a fountain Coke, and a nap.

I'm getting old

So, football season is upon us and my girlfriends and I were thinking about attending a game at our Alma Mater. While I'm not old, I am obviously older than I was in college. I was thinking about how I was then to how I am now and don't think I can hang.

Top 5 Ways You Know You're Too Old to Party Like a College Student

5. You dress for warmth, not cuteness.
4. You now make sure you stand near a bathroom at all times because your bladder ain't what it used to be. You may as well stand back in line once you finish.
3. You now remember to eat something so you can absorb some of the alcohol, as opposed to drinking on an empty stomach so you get drunker faster.
2. You now worry how you're going to get home in your condition. Walking is out of the question.
1. You nap at bars.

Sad, but true. The last time I tried to drink all day, I took a nap at the bar. We started drinking at 2 p.m., the game started at 8 p.m., I woke up at 9:30 p.m. (with a hangover).

Definitely can't hang.

Buckle up!

So, I have a theory about buckle up signs. I believe each state has a different buckle up slogan that directly correlates to the image the state wishes to convey. I realize I haven't been to very many states, but I do have opinions about the ones I have visited often.

Ohio: "Buckle up. It's our law." To the point. We made it a law. If you don't get it, it's your fault.

Pennsylvania: "Buckle up. It's your life. It's our law." They're not messing around. Most signs in PA are like that. They also have to tell you before you get to every single bridge in the whole damn state that "bridge may be icy." Is it icy in the summer? I don't think so.

Maryland: "Buckle up. We care and it's our law." Nice. Very nice. Of course, they also believe the average driver is stupid and feel they need to point out the lane that will end in 1 mile, 500 feet, 1 inch. Like we can't see it.

Virginia: "Buckle up. It's a law we can LIVE with." Well, aren't they clever?

New York: "BUCKLE UP. NEW YORK STATE LAW. SEAT BELT USE REQUIRED." Why are they always yelling?

Massachusetts: "Buckle up. It's the law." Well, thanks. Nice originality. Isn't this the same state that houses the top rated university?

Washington DC: I realize I wasn't looking high and low for a buckle up sign while visiting. I was too busy not dying on the road.  People there drive like lunatics. I almost died 12 times on my way around Dupont Circle. So, I came up with my own buckle up slogan for them.

"Buckle up. Trust me, you want to."

Baaahstaaan

So, the husband and I drove to Boston last week for my cousin's wedding. As this was my first time in Beantown, I was extremely excited. I adore the east coast.

While on the trip, I learned a few things. 

1. The Bahstan accent is my favorite.
* I would've paid any local $20 just to talk to me.
* Worcester is actually pronounced Wooster.
* One of our servers ended all her questions with "ya?" "Fries, ya?" I'm going to start doing that. Cool, ya?
* I also prefer to say "fahck".
* And, when anything goes wrong, it's now a "wicked pissah".

2. There is a Starbucks on every corner.

3. There is a Dunkin' Donuts on every other corner.
* Seriously, there were 2 Dunkin' Donuts not one mile from each other (same of the Starbucks). Makes you wonder why you'd pick one over the other. Or why you can't walk an extra 500 feet to get your donut. Are Bostonians lazy? And, if they are, do they really need more donuts?

4. The oldest continuously operated bar in the United States is in Boston. We went there. Beat that.

5. The person who developed the streets of Boston was smoking crack.
* You have to go in circles to get to where you want to go. A 2 mile trip takes 20 minutes.
* My brother, whenever driving through a roundabout said, "Hey kids! Big Ben. Parliament." Ironically, National Lampoon's European Vacation was on TV the night before we drove home.
* Bostonians like to honk their horns. (Not that they were honking at us, of course.)

6. We are responsible for all the whales and dolphins that are becoming extinct. I learned this while watching a movie at the Boston aquarium. Yes, I'll take pretty pictures with a side of guilt, ya?
* But, I'll take that with a grain of salt because they believe the plural of fish is fishes. It's fish, isn't it?

7. They offer chowda at every restaurant we went to.
* We ordered chowda at every restaurant we went to.
* We enjoyed chowda at every restaurant we went to.

8. Cape Cod does not have a picture of a fish in a cape. Anywhere.  I looked.

9. While I love the east coast, I am glad I live in the midwest. This was the. most. expensive. trip. Ever.

10. And even though I prefer living in the midwest, we weren't in Boston nearly long enough.