New Year's Eve(rybody hates this day, not just me)

NYE is my least favorite holiday.

I've had a few great ones.......

2004 - This was NOT a stranger.  And thankfully, he didn't drop me.

just as many bad ones, and a myriad of nights that would fall somewhere in between. 

This year, I have a sparkly dress (well maybe tweens would consider it a dress but it's really about an inch past my ass cheeks so I'd consider it a long shirt) that I will wear (with tights, I am in my 30s and the dream is over) in a few hours.  I will cheer for Snooki as she's dropped over the Seaside, NJ boardwalk.  I will simultaneously pray the New Year brings her self respect, a clear melanoma screening and  maybe some more supportive undergarments.  I will do my best not to make any negative comments about Dick Clark but, let's face it, he's hard to understand and he is OLD.   There is nothing "Rockin'" about him anymore except the fact that he's giving us all the silent middle finger while collecting a sizable paycheck.

Rock on, buddy.  Ride it out as long as possible.

So why am I such a grinch?  That's easy...too many overpriced venues with too few cabs. Too many drinks and not enough hours to sleep off the hangover.  But mostly, it's a reminder of all the things we intended to do the prior year.  And how we always intended to lose weight. And I DID intend to do that...I blame my 1) back injury, 2) hectic work schedule and 3) Oreo breakfasts every day this week.  If you don't relate to that third one, I hope this year brings you misery.

Last year there were a bunch of people at my house which was great.  I also managed to buy the only noisemakers on the planet that actually didn't make any noise. I'd like to extend a special f*ck off to that manufacturer.  Did you think people would just want to blow on cardboard sticks with foil fringe hanging out the end? It is not cool to mislead drunk people.  That happens enough on this holiday at bars across the country.   I hope your company is out of business.  You have no soul.

So since it's the last day of the year, I pulled out my bucket list for a good laugh.  It was also eagerly put together in 2009 so it's even more disappointing. The intention was to update it yearly with all sorts of checks and smiley faces.

Let's see how things have been going -

 1 -  Challenge my fear of heights for something really worth it. 
I'm not sure forcing myself up the backless stairs in the mall counts, but I did that once this year.  And I had a panic attack.  After that, I wimped out at London Eye and pretty much every other structure taller than 10'.

2-  Make a grown man cry (in a good way). 
This year, I accidentally included a pair of my own underwear (tagless, they were not new) in a Target shopping bag while returning a pair of pajama pants.  The cashier held them up and asked me if I wanted to return them as well.  I said no.  He clearly knew I did not buy them there. He probably went home and cried but it wasn't what I was going for.

3-  Fix something that seems impossible. 
What does that even mean? When did I turn philosophical?  Apparently I'd been watching too many episodes of Extreme Makeover Home Edition.  My hairdresser was recently able to create a longer style that adds deceiving volume to my very fine hair.  D,  if you have this on your list, you can officially remove it.

4-  Get something published.
Not sure Blogspot or Facebook are what I had in mind.  I've drafted a few documents that are now used by my company.  Only losers count those.

5-  Learn how to play the guitar (or at least some song with some meaning)
Does buying a guitar count? At least I took the initiative.  If you ever need to borrow it, that's fine.  Just dig through my guest room closet right under the suits and cocktail dresses.

6-  Run a race (not too long that I die/not too short that it is shameful to call a race)
I wore grey Converse to the NYC AIDS Walk because they looked cuter with my outfit.  I could not walk for three days after.  Definitely not the mindset of an athlete.  

7-.  Keep some type of plant alive at least 3 months. 
Success!  Do they need to have leaves and/or flowers by the end of the 3 months?  If so,  I get half credit. 

8-  Reconnect with someone and apologize.
Got this one off the list quickly.  I told her I had been wanting to do that for a long time.  She probably thought it was weird but at least I got something totally off the list.  I am entitled to add at least one selfish item.

9-  Shoot a gun.
WTF?  Ninth on a list of life-changing activities?  I think I'm going to explode every time I light the stinking barbecue grill.  That was just a waste of words and nobody should EVER trust me with a gun. 


10-  Donate my time (not my money) to a good cause
Did this but there's always at least some money involved. Nobody REALLY wants only your time. 


11-  Get a term/quote/phrase into mainstream society.  And that means you can find it on Google.
Today, the "List of Words Banished from the Queen's English for Misuse, Over-use and General Uselessness." came out and I use at least 5 of them regularly.  And 3 of them today alone.  Wishful thinking.

http://www.wtnh.com/dpp/news/strange/banish-these-words-and-phrases-in-2011

12- Buy a mountain bike and ride it further than the end of my own street.
My legs are about as long as a midget's.   Last time I rode one (in Key West on Spring Break), I fell off on the beach, it collapsed on top of me and the wheels continued spinning, leaving marks on my legs.  I had to get a ride home in a cab, bike in the trunk (I had vertigo AND a broken flip flop - rough trip) because I couldn't even get back on.  Later that evening someone asked me in a bar if I "was the girl who wiped out today on a bike and got run over by it".

13 - (Blank, it just had a dash like I had a good idea but chose not to complete it)
Probably a wise decision because they were really going nowhere.

The good news is that I have high hopes for 2011.  I plan to add a whole series of additionally unattainable goals my existing list of unattained ones.

I can always shoot for co-hosting with Ryan Seacrest since that job might available soon....relax, I'm not wishing death on him.  Seacrest is doing it for all of us.

Mass Textodus

Irish questioned my level of social etiquette yesterday.  And coming from him, I didn't feel great about myself.  He's one of my closest friends and I value his opinion.. However, he is also someone who accepts every single event invitation received through Facebook with basically no intention of attending or participating   Sometimes unsuspecting victims even thank him for his support.   I should have just ignored him completely.

My argument?   It is not necessary to respond to "mass texts".  Especially when they are clearly identified as such. He disagreed and thought I was being a jerk.  Come on....they are often as sincere as sending obligatory holiday cards to people who send them to you.  And if you read this blog regularly, you know my stance on those.

I know, right?? 

The topic came up when I asked if the iCompass (my affectionate name for the iPhone, based on its excellent apps but inability to actually function as a phone) offered the "mass text" functionality and how it worked.  I wondered if it allows you to text the entire phonebook at once or if you can only self select.

Turns out the iCompass, like basically all others, requires you to select recipients.  This is surprising based on the "mass text" distribution lists I have been included on over the years.  I always assumed every single contact in the phone had to be getting them. 

Good example - one former colleague used to send something for basically every holiday.  And it was DEFINITELY not personalized.  This Christmas I got nothing.  Was it because I didn't respond to her last note about looking for her new employer's float at the Thanksgiving Day Parade?  Maybe if she was riding it, waving at me and calling my name on TV...or if it was shaped like her face.  OR MY FACE!!!.  Other than, how was I supposed to respond?   "Awesome!  Great use of paper mache and carnations!"  That's just silly.

I found out yesterday from my Middle School Friend that the Blackberry uses purple font to help identify such texts.  (Quick apology to anybody whose night I just ruined but if you get a romantic text and it's in purple, he/she was also trying to meet up with at least one other person later that evening.)   Without that hint, what's a girl to do?  My Droid doesn't color code so I'm forced to guess.

Maybe I'm lazy, or insensitive but I'd prefer to say my lack of responses is based on an uncomfortable situation that occurred several years back-

I received a text (at about 2am, by the way) announcing the birth of a child  I didn't have the number stored, nor did I recognize the baby's name as something I should have been expecting to hear about.  I politely responded, congratulating the parents, complimenting the name (which I wasn't even crazy about) and informing them I "must have received this in error", feeling bad that the intended recipient was accidentally excluded.  I really outdid myself.  Manners galore :)  I remember the response like it was yesterday - 

"Hey, it's (my old boss) and you were meant to receive it." 

Yay, me!   I ruined the ten minutes immediately following the birth of his first child.  I tried to diffuse the situation with a joke but he never responded.  How is it my fault that I hated the job enough to delete any evidence of the person who hired me? It's not like I planned to call him regularly to talk about all the fun times I had in his office listening to negative feedback regarding my partnering skills.

The road to hell is often paved with good intentions. So I stick to this rule now...if it can't be addressed with a "you, too", it's best to ignore.  Or just use the "you, too" in all situations.  It's equally as impersonal and you'll be quickly be left out of future correspondence.

Everybody wins.

"This is Why Bitches Get Shot"

I was waiting patiently for a time where I could incorporate that phrase into the blog.  Yesterday I got my wish.

Let me first say that I am not trying to take any sort of credit for it and used quotes accordingly. I did not invent it nor do I use it in daily life (yet).  However, it is a much more direct way of saying "This Is Why People Don't Like You" so I probably should have been more calculated in stealing it for my own use. Oh well.

The One on the West Coast  and The One Formerly of the West Coast actually heard it from a homeless woman when they inadvertently blocked the escalator in Penn Station.  I'm sure she was having a rough day but that was a little dramatic.  It was funny to hear and, thankfully, neither one of them was actually harmed by way of a bullet.  But that woman clearly had legitimate psychological issues.  Or she was just pregnant. 

Here's why I say that - I was attacked yesterday by a pregnant woman.  Not physically, but  if she were in my presence at the time, I would probably resemble Mary Jo Buttafuoco today.  I have known TD  for several years and fully understand, while pregnant, she may cry or be mad or whatever it is that pregnant women feel and do. But this was just not expected.

Look at that smile.  Don't trust it.

With another child at home and one on the way, she's not very available for dinners or most other plans.  I definitely try but schedules are just not meshing at all. Only five minutes after sending me a cute text about a potential blog topic, I received an email containing the following, hormone induced comments-

So....I’m about to quit reading your blog and unlike your facebook page.  It’s like I don’t exist in your life.  I never see anything funny with you – or if I did, it’s in the past and not blog-worthy.  I don’t have a nickname......I don’t care if I haven’t been able to make it to your kid-less parties…that could have been “my thing”…  I might as well be a stranger reading about your life.

Oh yeah – Merry Christmas

 

WTF? Good try but I am not insulted by saying my parties are "kid-less". I am happy to host children although I can't guarantee they will not be injured by something accidentally or run out of my unfenced yard into the street. People typically like to come here because they can leave the little ones with sitters.  My house is like a temporary Disneyworld (only more fun) or maybe the Cheers for wayward parents ("taking a break from all your worries....") 

We weren't getting anywhere after a few written exchanges (including my letting her know the only explanation is that she's pregnant with "Satan's Child"), and I was mentally drained.   I then sarcastically informed her that, based on that extreme episode, she'd surely make the blog today.  Her exact response? 

YAHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I just had to be crazy?  That’s all?

 

I had no further comments.  She had lost her mind. 

She then quickly switched gears and began discussing her dropping off my Christmas gift this morning.  It's a baked item and, while sounding delicious, may go directly in the garbage.  No doubt it's laced with laxatives or some type of mild poison. I don't think she wants to kill me but you can't take your chances. I'm not quite sure what type of fun I'll be dealing with when she arrives.

I will gladly show up at the hospital the day she gives birth to toast the new addition - and to welcome her back to the world of mental stability.  If you think you may have spotted her anywhere before mid-February, particularly in a dark alley or parking lot after hours, I wish you the best.  Godspeed.

Welcome to the blog, TD.  You are (temporarily) crazy but I still love you.  And please leave that gift on my doorstep.  I'll, um, grab it later.

Festivity Insensitivity

A colleague asked me if she should be insulted by her assigned Christmas dinner item. Truthfully, she should.  I've never eaten anything she's baked or cooked before so I have no frame of reference.  But based on their request, her family is definitely not comfortable with any considerable level of holiday risk.

I quickly remembered that someone in my family also used to ask me for the same thing.  After a few years, I was removed from that responsibility completely.  I'd like to think it was based purely on the fact that it became just "too much for us to eat". Could this have been an insult in disguise?  A preschooler could have performed that duty well.

Hosts frequently turn into accidental assholes in these situations.   I often say "Just bring yourself!" and I actually mean it.  Meanwhile, I am probably promoting low self-esteem one guest at a time.  It's not that I don't trust you.  (Well frankly, it depends who it is.)  But I should know better since people always ask me to just bring spinach dip.  "You make a really good one."  It takes 11 seconds to make,  has five ingredients,  (two of which I can buy in my office's company store for basically nothing) and requires no oven. Wow, I'm clearly exuding reliability and generosity.

There are a few people whose contributions and requests are always predictable.  I handle accordingly -

The Blonde will bring "anything you need". Even if it's store bought, she'll assemble it on a cute little plate.  But she doesn't fool me with her big smile and cheery temperament.  It's really code for "My husband is occasionally grossed out by things other people make and at least he knows he can eat what comes from our house." Well played.

The Teacher has one job.  Pepperoni Bread.  And it's DELICIOUS.  She doesn't even need to attend.  I'm fine with her just dropping it off on my doorstep.  We are rude enough to ask her to make it for everything and it's a pain.  Even when she's been 8 months pregnant in the dead of summer.   If there's no Teacher, there's no Pepperoni Bread.  She secures invites based solely on that. There's just something to be said about consistency.   If I had to pick her or the bread, um.......

The Redhead gets frustrated by the entire process, usually because she is running late buying something to wear. If Santa gets her letter this year, the mall will soon start selling tank tops AND pastries in the same store. There are also strange food allergies involved so my requests must be limited.  She gets mad when I don't suggest things so I usually just say dessert or alcohol.

The One With The Big Boobs is always good for booze and tuna.  Yes, I said tuna.  (I also said she has big boobs but she really does.)  With people popping out kids at a rapid pace, there's all sorts of early day events.  And her tuna is pretty great.  Being the spinach dip girl, I'll never knock her for that.  We don't expect her to cook and she accepts that (lack of) responsibility very gracefully.

The Bartender  is just a complicated guest.  She is a vegetarian, and always has 19 other parties to go to that day.   I don't ask her to bring anything because she's generally coming from somewhere else and, secretly (or not so secretly because she reads this), I might be scared.  She doesn't like salad dressing.  I find that concerning.  (I also don't trust people who dislike cheese so thankfully she has that going for her.  Still weird.)

The Wild Card is, well, the wild card.  She's all over the map.  I embrace it because last time I recall her bringing White Castles. That was an aggressive move and it was well respected in my book.  She's also pregnant and, contrary to most knocked up ladies, is currently repulsed by food.  I'm looking forward to her rejoining the eating community soon and supplying me with whatever her heart desires.

There's a Fancy One who once brought me a really great bottle of wine in an equally great holder.  I accidentally insulted her by trying to give it back. You should never assume its respective wrapping.is yours to keep.  She also bakes.  Extra points for well-rounded guests.

Still have it!

I know, this isn't fair unless I poke a bit of fun at myself.  As far as my attendee responsibilities, my Sister-In-Law often asks me for wine.  I am not insulted because I know it's a very critical part of that meal.  She's has three kids and, if I did, I'd hope someone was bringing wine as well.  Plus, one time I made her a birthday cake and for whatever reason, it turned out really small.  It was like serving one Dunkin Donuts munchkin to an entire family.  Dinner at Bob Cratchit's house had better dessert.  I recall her thoughtfully saying it looked like a tart.  If I were her I may have said "Hey thanks for ruining my birthday" and called Carvel immediately.

May have been human error, but I'd suggest steering clear of this one.

The moral of the story...even when you know what to expect (and we ALL do), next time someone asks what they should make for your event, choose your words carefully. Don't say "bring napkins" or "we have it all covered".  It's just mean and they will likely develop a complex.  Sometimes they will talk about you to their coworkers.   Buy your own napkins.  And sorry, but you do NOT have it all covered.   That basically translates to "all the really good stuff has been taken care of by people we trust."  Terrible cooks have feelings, too. And don't think you've outsmarted them with  "Can you pick up....."  Those people (like The Attorney) recognize it means please buy it and don't attempt to make it.  That's actually worse.

My Gingerbread Deathbed

The Bartender invited me to a Gingerbread House Making Party today. In the spirit of the season, I told her I'd stop by later in the day.  I was completely exhausted from a weekend of holiday parties but love crafty projects.  Plus, being a lifelong overachiever, I'd probably build a skyscraper in a matter of minutes and embarrass all the other party goers.

Well......I might as well have changed the name of this party to "(Insert My Own Name)'s Funeral.  These people were bad ass - complete professionals.  I've tiled my own bathroom, dug up existing landscaping then planted new ones and built a wooden banister in my house that is not only decorative but would probably pass most legitimate home inspections.  I have a God Damn ornament on my Christmas tree that says I'm a DIY (do it yourself) weekend warrior.  I DUG A DITCH AT A HABITAT FOR HUMANITY HOUSE while an inappropriately dressed, obnoxious volunteer said she was not strong enough. (I may have also thrown dirt on her shoes after she made that statement.  Either go big or go home.)  I was being humiliated by a bunch of strangers and I hated it.

Fifteen minutes into this event, one person admitted they've done this "every year" for who knows how long. Meanwhile, the comments started when I tried to glue my crackers together with a spatula full of frosting.  "Hahaha, she's using the spatula". Apparently there's was some sort of unwritten rule that you were supposed to use the back of a plastic fork.  Who the eff knows what type of utensil is required for this?  Don't they sell kits at all the craft stores that just require a few minutes of assembly? We were making them from scratch.  You might as well have been asking me to perform my own heart transplant.

Thankfully I didn't look at all the finished ones when I first arrived because it would have been seriously intimidating.  I bet most of them bought blueprints on the Internet because you could probably live in one of these houses comfortably.  Some had second floors...

...one was some type of vacation resort.  I even saw a tepee.  Mine had four walls, one of which was at least one inch longer than the other three.  I decided to tell the person next to me that I planned to use that part "for the deck".  I'm not even sure what that meant but I thought it might be believable.  After turning it sideways, my idea was to make a replica of my own brownstone-style home.  The pressure was way too much and it started to bend.  My only option was a ranch.

I drilled holes in green gum drop things and tried to make outside landscaping.  That would really show them.  Other party people?  Snowmen, lawns, fire pits (I am not even lying, someone actually had a fire pit), Gummy Bear residents.  My self-respect was salvaged later when The Blonde mistakenly said  "Wow, that one has wheels"  when viewing photos and seeing graphics on the plate.  Really, Blonde?  Did you think it was a mobile home?  I guess at this party, anything was possible so I can't blame you. (XOXO, you knew that was coming so I don't feel bad.  We all know you're smart.)

This one could probably be listed on realtor.com and sell for more than my actual house.

I managed to let it dry for a few minutes, stuck on a door and a few M&M windows in a panic (which was stupid because nothing really has round windows except maybe a submarine) and stepped back to admire my project.  It was horrible.  It honestly looked like I assembled it wearing mittens and a blindfold.

The party was scheduled to run from 2-8pm.  My attendance?  5-5:30pm. I wanted out of there as soon as possible.  To make conversation, I casually mentioned that I lived only 3 minutes from The Bartender's house and managed to get lost on my way there.  That, combined with my disaster of a project, pretty much secured my spot in the Idiot Hall of Fame.  I know everyone tried to be nice but they definitely assumed I'd probably pull out of my parking spot and crash directly into The Bartender's condo.

Five minutes before I went to grab my coat, the damn thing collapsed.  So not only did I have the worst house, but it turned into a pile of garbage.  I sat on the carpet, defeated, and decided to just eat parts of it.  Why let it go to waste?

Bartender - I'm happy to grace your bar with my presence and invite you to any event at my own house.  But next year, I'm sick that day.  And if any of your friends are reading this, I'm fairly certain you all brought those houses with you and I was secretly being taped for a reality show.  Oh, and I hate all of you.

Bad Timing

My outdoor Christmas light timer went missing. Plugging in and unplugging cords in 20 degree weather is fun, but I'd prefer a more efficient method.  Being pressed for time, I called a store location close to my office to see if they had any before driving down there.

THE FOLLOWING DETAILS ARE ALL TRUE.  I EVEN TOOK NOTES TO ENSURE ACCURACY.

Me - Do you have Outdoor Christmas Light Timers?
Lady 1 - Hang on, I have to ask the manager. (clearly a question only management could handle)

I'm on hold.
Jazzy version of Jingle Bells plays  (2:14)
Festive music interrupted for a commercial about buying Holiday Gifts at their store (35 seconds)
Elevator Music (1:29)
The sound of my snoring (continuous)

Lady 2 - Hello, Pharmacy.  Do you know we offer flu shots?
Me - Yes, I do.  I was holding to see if you have Outdoor Christmas Light Timers.
Lady 2 - Okay, hold please.

More music
More snoring

The Return of Lady 1 - Hello, (Store Name)
A Less Patient Version of Me - Hi, I was on hold while you checked for Outdoor Christmas Light Timers.
Lady 1 - Yes, I remember you.  But you asked for the Pharmacy.
Me -  No, I  said Outdoor...Christmas...Light....Timers (in her defense, it does sound like "Pharmacy")
Lady 1 - Okay hold, please.

I hold, without music.   I am no longer a valued customer.

Lady 3 - I have something here, I think it's what you are looking for.  But I only have one.
My Inner Dialogue - Did I ask for something really complicated?  Let's analyze in its most basic form -

Outdoor - opposite of  indoor

Christmas - the red and green themed holiday with trees and crowded malls

Light -  brightness created by the sun, bulbs, etc.

Timer -  used to time things

Me - How many outlets does it have to plug cords into? (I needed to plug in two cords and, if you recall, she only had one thing left that may or may not have been what I needed)
Lady 3 - It has a really short cord!
Me - (sigh) Thanks, but how many outlets does it have to plug cords into?
Lady 3 - Outlets, like "the plug things"?
Me - Yes, the plug things. 
Lady 3 - I'm not sure, I think there are two.  I can't see because that part is being covered by the directions.

I figured if she thought there were two, that was reason enough to take the drive. I got there, fingers crossed, and it had two outlets alright. Please note, the red circles.

I can understand why she was hesitant to confirm there were, in fact, two "plug things".

The Screen Name Game

I've spent the last few weeks trying to come up with a respectable and blog-related Twitter screen name.  For now, it's simply an abbreviated version of my actual name which was not in the plan.  I know people get carried away but come on, Twitter!  15 characters?  Not easy. 

The first and most obvious was thisiswhypeopledontlikeyou (too long)  So then I tried something else really close and, much to my chagrin, it's taken. And even more annoying, I was fairly horrified reading the posts.  I'd prefer not having things like "Sunday sun is shinnig!!!" associated with my likeness accidentally. After all, even if the sun is "shinning" (I just checked to make sure it's not a word in his native language - definitely not) and you are EXTRA excited,  just take a minute to proof the post before sharing. 

***If you are reading this, I can help you.  Just hand over your screen name and I'll teach you all about this magical tool called spell check.  I suspect it's coming to a city near you soon, if it's not there already.  I know you want to keep up your street credit, but it's never attractive to appear unintelligent. Even if it seems to work for pageant contestants and all the Kardashian sisters***

I browsed his page, thinking of charming ways to convince him to pick another one.  Something more appropriate for his content like ItsNotBlurryItsArt or WeirdEuroVideo (which I cannot stop watching and had to share below) are reasonable.

http://vimeo.com/16318689

Maybe AgainstMyWill, ShesScaringMe or IFeelThreatened, depending on how I position the request for forfeiture of his current web identity.

I became totally distracted after seeing the list of results in the "More Like" section.  It's used by Twitter to suggest other pages that might be relevant and/or of interest. Here's the two they came up with.

 

•   
  TwitMeetFFM

  TwitMeetFFM
  

  
  
• 
  hronline 

  hr-online

HROnline?  Fascinating.  Are they suggesting HR professionals don't like people OR that people don't like HR professionals?  I guess it depends on who you ask.

It's time to let you in on a little secret.  I may moonlight as a someone who (in good fun) points out individuals' flaws on the Internet, but by day I am actually an HR professional.  And although sometimes I agree with Twitter's logic, it's ONLY sometimes.  I mean really, that was just a perfect, missed opportunity for some code developer to really make a personal statement.  We all don't like people.  But HR?  That's some sophomoric bashing if you ask me.  Directing you to his ex-girlfriend's page?  Or maybe Michael Vick's Twitter Page (insert boooos from fans and cheers from people with souls)?  Both good ideas.   HR?  C+ for your efforts.  

Quick shameless plug.to all my readers who work at places with an HR staff....give us a break, it's the holiday season.  Do you know how hard it is living up the reputation you have all created about us firing people, being unproductive members of society and giving bad news all day.

And to the owner of my future screen name...well, I'm not sure what to say.  I hope that whale watching trip was enjoyable and you should stop posting general "f*ck you"s so frequently.  Save them for the times when you really mean it!  Perhaps you can visit your HR department and solicit some advice on how to be a better communicator. Just not next week, we'll all be on vacation.  (just kidding...sort of)

"Other" Mart

Since its inception, most shoppers seem to have turned their attention to Target and away from Walmart.  Okay, maybe that's inaccurate as a general statement but definitely true in my area.  (Don't come after me for having an opinion, crazy Walmart executives. I know how scary and intimidating you can be.  I saw that episode of South Park).

So what ever happened to the "Other" Mart you might ask?  The third one that seems to have completely fallen off the radar?  Good news!  I took a trip there today so here's what they've been up to.

Nothing.  The place, besides looking abandoned, basically was abandoned.  I know, I know - why on Earth was I there?  I promise I'm not that dry on subjects already that I needed the "Other" Mart for blog material.  The real reason?  My outfit.

I have a wedding to attend this evening and, to avoid ruining a perfectly adorable pedicure, decided to brave the cold in pajama pants, pedicure socks (yes men, we could easily cut the toes off regular socks but it's not as fancy), bedazzled flops and a giant, 3/4 length puffy coat.

I considered taking a drive down to the previously mentioned stores but was actually too embarrassed.  I'd definitely see people I knew in Target and even Walmart would have shunned me.  The "Other Mart"?  I did not get a strange look from one single patron or employee.  If I was in either of the other two, I'd be stopped by security because clearly I had just escaped a mental institution.  Nobody with all their marbles would ever leave the house like that.

The items on my list?  A memory card for the new camera and a wedding card for the happy couple.  In and out in ten minutes so who really cared.  A girl can dream.....

The memory cards were located near the back of the store.  Basically anything in that electronics zone, regardless of price, had a security lock so you could not steal it.  Apparently I've spent too much time in Target over the years because I waited patiently for an "Other" Mart employee to gleefully appear in that store area.  Twenty minutes went by and finally she showed up.   I felt extra comfortable after she suggestively mentioned that a rude customer said she didn't get to her area fast enough. Nope, not me but that person should be presented with a trophy for Excellence in Complaining.

At that moment I was interrupted by another electronics patron who claimed she waited even longer than me for help.  Really?  Because this was the first time I'd see her.  The employee decided that was reasonable and left.  The cheese stood alone in the aisle and waited until their intellectual conversation ended.  And seriously, it was worth the wait.  When the customer said she was looking for the "really good" GPS/MP3 player that was advertised for $9.99, I nearly spit out my drink.

When the attention finally turned to me, I pointed out my selection and she removed it from the display's death grip.  Then she told me how it was a really good one.  Hmm, apparently everything in this place was "really good". I could not help but ask what made her say that.  Her response?  "Because I have it."  Gee, thanks for the detailed product overview.  Next time I'm in the market for a new car or sophisticated gadget, I'll come back and ask your opinion as well.

I was promptly escorted to the front with my memory card because you are not allowed to be left unattended with one in the store.  As I waited at customer service to buy it (they also required I do that), the store exit security alarm went off.  Three times.  The manager very professionally yelled "CAN'T WE JUST GET IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME" to his staff while the person behind me decided someone must have been stealing because "they didn't want to wait in line.  That's so wrong but definitely what happened."  I am 99.9% sure that was not the case but what do I know?

On my way out, I passed the "Other" Mart Cafe.  Definitely a former gold mine which has been turned into a graveyard for blinking and/or inflatable seasonal merchandise.  Weird, since I'd assume most people would feel totally confident munching on a hot dog or popcorn from that 9th circle of hell.  Only people who overreact would assume it was contaminated with E. Coli bacteria.  What a waste of prime real estate but that's their decision and not mine.

The sign was not vandalized as you might assume.  In the holiday spirit, I removed the name.

All That Glitters Isn't Gold

My mailing of holiday cards stopped in 2006, (coincidentally the first and only year I ever sent them.)  While there's still some time, the forecast is mostly cloudy with a chance of e-cards. If the dog suddenly lets me take a good photo of her wearing something jolly, I'll reconsider.  Don't hold your breath.

Who wants this depressed face hanging up in their house?

 

Let me go on record by saying I fully appreciate receiving cards. I even purchased a decorative wall hanging designed specifically to showcase them.  However, every year without fail, the holiday cheer and wonderment comes to a screeching halt while sorting through the mail.  The crunching noise created when fumbling with THAT card in particular is unmistakable.  I am as tense as a intern tasked to open envelopes during the 2001 anthrax scare.  Today was no different.

Glitter.

I believe it to be a distant relative of the cockroach, able to sustain life even if an atomic bomb is dropped.   You can't get rid of it!  People complain about buying real trees and how the needles show up for months after.  But glittery cards?  Sure, let's buy 1000 and let our friends and family deal with the aftermath..

Last year we received a really adorable holiday gift from the women who clean our house.  Ironic twist?  Glittery.  And it's not just regular glitter.  It's that industrial strength, snowy/flaky stuff that's not only sticky but sheds on everything.   They could not have possible thought this was a good idea.  Clearly a plot to avoid cleaning the area I chose to display it.  Since I'd be wiping up particles every day, why bother to duplicate efforts?  Well they're no match for me.  It's proudly adorning the top of a giant piece of furniture.  Even Shaquille O'Neil can't see that high up.

Me - 1, Glitter/Cleaning People - 0 

So this got me thinking....which do I hate more?  Glitter (the movie) or Glitter (the crafty menace)?  I've seen both do their evil workings (the movie, when I had my wisdom teeth pulled, couldn't sleep and was forced to watch in its entirety) and I'm prepared to let Mariah slide JUST this one time. 

 

16 days to go and only one has made its way into the mailbox.  A special note to the senders of that card - I love you both dearly and look forward to seeing you soon for dinner.  I also hope you decide to host so I can leave tiny bits of dog shit around your house when you aren't looking.  Not as stubborn, but equally as annoying to clean up.

Quick confession - I really have some nerve saying all this.  The one year I sent cards - glitter cards.  A beautiful wintry scene scape covered in the G word.  It's not like I had to hang them up in my own house.

Airport Insecurity

I'm not the best sleeper and suffer from the occasional bout of insomnia. I've been taking a few prescribed medications for a stubborn injury and figured they might help.  No luck - last night I woke up, in a pool of sweat, just in time to see why I stopped watching Grey's Anatomy years ago. Sorry fans, I'm not sure if McDreamy died after that guy shot him, but I'd sooner shoot myself than watch another minute.

After flipping channels sometime around 3am, I settled with the news. As a wrap up to the 15 or so depressing stories about deaths that occurred yesterday, there was a quick segment on the TSA's new body scan process. Apparently it is now a federal crime to illegally record or distribute those images. So I guess the protesters have won and we can all be happy our bits and pieces won't be circulating on the Internet. Okay, well most of us can but I'm sure some of you are smirking since that doesn't quite apply to you.

Here's my issue with all of this - have you SEEN these pictures? If you haven't, here's a sample I picked up off Google.

While I suppose it's fairly intrusive, I'm sure most people could IMAGINE a better naked shot of him.  The interesting part is that I haven't seen many complaints regarding exploitation of children (which I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND) or really anything I'd consider absolutely valid.  Most of the protest is probably coming from people with more revealing photos posted on their Facebook pages.  If you are concerned your dreams of dating an airport security employee will be shattered after he realizes your boobs are only that big from a push-up bra, well that's just silly.  He saw all of them packed in your suitcase when that was scanned anyway.

So to lighten the mood and make people feel better about themselves (and this process), I've sketched a quick version of what I think my screening would look like.

See?  No big deal!  

Ladies and gentlemen - we all want to be safe on planes.  We also want to get to our destinations as quickly as possible.  So just suck it up, let them scan your parts and move on with your life.

[Buhf-its]?

I probably should have started this a long time ago.  I get excited every time people comment on my Facebook status and don't really know why exactly.   Maybe it's my endless need to share nonsensical thoughts with those around me, but here I am.  With the New Year right around the corner (coupled with my inability to actually commit to any of my other bucket list items), I had to come up with something.  Note - the guitar I bought last year is still in the guest room closet. Every time I go in there to grab a cocktail dress or luggage, it coincidentally strums better chords than I could with my own ten fingers.  Blogging it is...

I sat in amazement, with The Blonde, at a buffet brunch today. Having spent the last few decades on a planet occupied by a LOT of weirdos,  I'm not quite sure why any of this was surprising to me.  After two large Bellinis each, we laughed for at least an hour about the experience.

People truly are disgusting.  And buffets bring out the best in them.  Take the average American, give them a twenty dollar bill and a pair of reasonably stretchy pants, then just observe. There are no rules.  Grown women will push a toddler onto the ground if it will secure a more appealing spot in the line. If there's crab legs? They'll push a disabled toddler.  Food allergies and general dislike of  items will be completely disregarded because, hey, it's part of the price and clearly worth the risk.

While cracking a few inconsiderate jokes targeted at other patrons, I felt the need to look up the word "buffet" on my phone.  I could have provided a quick explanation of what it meant in my world, but thought it would be much more entertaining to examine the actual origin.

Who knew?  Two definitions surfaced, and the first was one I have never seen before.  (And no, I did not look it up on Wikipedia.  We all know most things on there, while interesting, are grossly misrepresented)   Here's what I saw -

buf·fet  /ˈbʌfɪt/ Show Spelled [buhf-it]  noun, verb, -fet·ed, -fet·ing.

–noun

1.a blow, as with the hand or fist.

2.a violent shock or concussion.

–verb (used with object)

3.to strike, as with the hand or fist.

4.to strike against or push repeatedly: The wind buffeted the house.

5.to contend against; battle.

Pardon my ignorance but I've never seen it used in this way before.  And while the pronunciation is completely different, I feel this is a much more accurate description than something like "seriously aggressive people, often lacking any sort of self-awareness, on a long line for substandard food".    Where has it been all my life???  It's not a buffet, it's a [buhf-it] for sure.  Violent shocks, pushing repeatedly?  As far as I'm concerned, that's exactly what I witnessed today.  I was surely "violently shocked" after seeing the folks next to me use their windowsill to stack more cake slices than their reasonably sized table could hold.

Let me be clear - I will definitely go back to [buhf-it]s, including this one.  However, I will be sure to bring a regular camera and not rely simply on my Droid.  (Settle down, iPhone users.  I know you don't even need to own cameras because your phones are far superior). I missed a solid shot of a man carrying several plates, wearing a holiday sweater with a string down the crack of his rear that could have been confused with a tail.

Looking forward to the next 20 days before Christmas.  I'm sure eating out will only get worse.  Stay tuned...