I should really log onto Blogger more often. I see I have been missing some stuff.
I remember signing up for Twitter in 2007 and thinking it advertising itself as a "microblogging service" seemed a little dumb. Joke's on me I guess since now I can't seem to get myself to write an actual blog. 140 characters always takes it.
And it seems like no one follows blogs. Or not my blog anyway. :)
12.03.2012
2.07.2012
And we will never speak of this again
Something mortifying happened to me this morning that made me feel like a dirty, dirty traitor. I took a shower and thought I should bury it forever.
But then I texted a Patriots-fan friend of mine (she needs help), and decided to tell her ... and after a few hours, it seemed too ridiculous to not share.
I had a sex dream about Tom Brady last night.
!!!
Yes, you read that right. This makes no sense to me for many different reasons, the least of which being that it is terrifying for a Colts fan. The only saving grace was at the end when I turned around and saw what he was wearing ... I thought, "Wow. So Gisele dresses him in pink pants."
7.07.2010
The college me
Found my Purdue ID tonight ... from 1997. I had totally forgotten what that thing even looked like. I'd like to tell the 18-year-old me, "In 12 years, you're going to really wish you majored in Pharm. Even though you hate Purdue. Your life is not going to turn out how you expect, so just fucking chill out."
But I didn't. I dyed my hair black, and got that unfortunate haircut (see below). Transferred to Ball State and decided journalism was a good idea even though, seriously. Who still reads newspapers? You don't even read them. You're just going to accumulate some drama along the way, then be back in college at 31 and wondering what happened. Spectacular. Good work, Ang.
Wouldn't have wanted to miss out on meeting my good friends along the way though ... just would rather be earning six figures than learning to give bed baths right now. :)
But I didn't. I dyed my hair black, and got that unfortunate haircut (see below). Transferred to Ball State and decided journalism was a good idea even though, seriously. Who still reads newspapers? You don't even read them. You're just going to accumulate some drama along the way, then be back in college at 31 and wondering what happened. Spectacular. Good work, Ang.
Wouldn't have wanted to miss out on meeting my good friends along the way though ... just would rather be earning six figures than learning to give bed baths right now. :)
5.02.2010
Facebook changes
Until yesterday, I hadn't ever bitched to Facebook about their unnecessary changes to the site. People would complain and complain, but I usually found a way to be able to access the info I wanted about people and it was fine.
Then Facebook decided to make me link all of my interests, music, movies, workplaces, etc. to public pages instead of just making it available to my friends. According to the Facebook Blog, this was supposed to be "connecting to everything you care about." When I didn't want to connect to everything I care about, all of my personal information was deleted.
As far back as there were opportunities to become "fans" of things, and more recently, to "like" them, I have refused. As more and more people became fans of "not lighting yourself on fire" and even things normal and non-idiotic like "The Indianapolis Colts" (or replace that with your favorite sports team), I held fast to my resolve. Yeah, I'm stubborn ... but I just didn't want to, and I was not going to start even if one of my good friends wanted me to become a fan of their business or band. They would understand that I loved them anyway, without my Facebook "liking."
That is why I found this Facebook change so unacceptable. They were going to make me connect with pages whether I liked it or not. And of course, no one was going to force this chica to change.
Another reason I don't want to link up to other people who shared my interests? Back when I was able to list things on my own, I had listed things that were a little off the wall, but that my friends would understand.
Like air conditioning.
People who know me would likely understand that I was being a little random ... expressing my hatred of humidity and 90 degree temperatures by saying that air conditioning was an interest of mine. But if I allowed Facebook to link that interest to a page about "air conditioning" where other people could connect with me, I would likely be randomly connected to HVAC technicians and the like. Some friends once told me blogs need visuals:
You get the idea ... No, thank you.
So, now all my profile shares is the default pieces of "basic info," the bio I had written, and of course, contact info ... because Facebook wants to make sure it provides any chance possible to maybe get your contact info out there to the public at large. You can't even list your school info.
UNCOOL FACEBOOK. UNCOOL.
Wonder if it will even continue to import my notes from blogger ...
Then Facebook decided to make me link all of my interests, music, movies, workplaces, etc. to public pages instead of just making it available to my friends. According to the Facebook Blog, this was supposed to be "connecting to everything you care about." When I didn't want to connect to everything I care about, all of my personal information was deleted.
As far back as there were opportunities to become "fans" of things, and more recently, to "like" them, I have refused. As more and more people became fans of "not lighting yourself on fire" and even things normal and non-idiotic like "The Indianapolis Colts" (or replace that with your favorite sports team), I held fast to my resolve. Yeah, I'm stubborn ... but I just didn't want to, and I was not going to start even if one of my good friends wanted me to become a fan of their business or band. They would understand that I loved them anyway, without my Facebook "liking."
That is why I found this Facebook change so unacceptable. They were going to make me connect with pages whether I liked it or not. And of course, no one was going to force this chica to change.
Another reason I don't want to link up to other people who shared my interests? Back when I was able to list things on my own, I had listed things that were a little off the wall, but that my friends would understand.
Like air conditioning.
People who know me would likely understand that I was being a little random ... expressing my hatred of humidity and 90 degree temperatures by saying that air conditioning was an interest of mine. But if I allowed Facebook to link that interest to a page about "air conditioning" where other people could connect with me, I would likely be randomly connected to HVAC technicians and the like. Some friends once told me blogs need visuals:
You get the idea ... No, thank you.So, now all my profile shares is the default pieces of "basic info," the bio I had written, and of course, contact info ... because Facebook wants to make sure it provides any chance possible to maybe get your contact info out there to the public at large. You can't even list your school info.
UNCOOL FACEBOOK. UNCOOL.
Wonder if it will even continue to import my notes from blogger ...
3.13.2010
Reminiscing
Awwww ... at dinner, we were talking about blogging, and I thought of my once popular blog. Oh, the days of the MySpace heyday ...
So, I skimmed through some of the old posts. How I miss the days of funny/odd/annoying/weird things happening to me that made such good blog material.
I'm not sure if less of the stuff actually happens, or if I just don't notice it as much because after moving back to Indy, things just seem normal and gasp ... mundane. I hope that's not it since I spent so much time wanting to get back here. Arg.
You know, I just thought of something that kind of killed it. Facebook status updates ... especially when friends started to be able to comment on said updates. If something happens, Facebook provides too much instant gratification. Shame on it, and shame on me.
I'm going to try harder to realize a good blog topic when I come across one. Yes, here I am AGAIN saying, "I'm bringing back the blog." I hope it's for real ... and no more of those serious, depressing ones like the last two. Sorry about those. Yuck.
Oh, last week, I got the letter confirming I'm in nursing school. Start in May for 18 whirlwind months. Yeah, some funny shit has to come out of that. :)
So, I skimmed through some of the old posts. How I miss the days of funny/odd/annoying/weird things happening to me that made such good blog material.
I'm not sure if less of the stuff actually happens, or if I just don't notice it as much because after moving back to Indy, things just seem normal and gasp ... mundane. I hope that's not it since I spent so much time wanting to get back here. Arg.
You know, I just thought of something that kind of killed it. Facebook status updates ... especially when friends started to be able to comment on said updates. If something happens, Facebook provides too much instant gratification. Shame on it, and shame on me.
I'm going to try harder to realize a good blog topic when I come across one. Yes, here I am AGAIN saying, "I'm bringing back the blog." I hope it's for real ... and no more of those serious, depressing ones like the last two. Sorry about those. Yuck.
Oh, last week, I got the letter confirming I'm in nursing school. Start in May for 18 whirlwind months. Yeah, some funny shit has to come out of that. :)
12.11.2009
Tell me we've all been there ...
We Google someone we know we shouldn't ...
Only to be hurt to see that it looks like they've moved on ...
And we know there are plenty of great reasons it shouldn't hurt ...
But it still does. I hate that it still does.
(Truthfully, it was sort of my e-mail contact list's fault this time, but the result was still the same ... and I have been guilty of Googling before.)
Only to be hurt to see that it looks like they've moved on ...
And we know there are plenty of great reasons it shouldn't hurt ...
But it still does. I hate that it still does.
(Truthfully, it was sort of my e-mail contact list's fault this time, but the result was still the same ... and I have been guilty of Googling before.)
7.16.2009
The real me
I made some changes to my Facebook profile yesterday. None of the activities, interests, music ... that type of stuff hasn't changed ... and won't. There's no messing with perfection really.
What I did was decide to just put my true attitude out there. Where it asks you to "Write something about yourself," I, for awhile, wrote something all positive and certain about throwing plans out the window and coming out on top ... but a few hours later, I thought, "That's the biggest load of horse shit I've ever written. I'm feeling negative and sad right now, and why do I always hide it when I am?"
It made me feel better to change it to the honest truth. Kind of cathartic really. These last few years, it's just been weighing on me too much to put on this show ... as more and more I started to realize that the show might be part of what has gotten me to the unhappy place I'm at in the first place.
So, I think what's on my profile isn't going to be so even keeled anymore. For practically my entire life, I've been strong around strangers, acquaintances and many friends, and only let my emotions show to really close friends and family. So 95% of people I knew saw this person who didn't need anybody for anything, and 5% saw what a mess I could be at times.
I would see people being so open about aspects of their life, and I would think, "How could that person even dream of admitting something like that to someone they barely know? How could they stand to look so weak?" But maybe it isn't weakness at all. Now I think I've been the scared one.
My way hasn't been working in my favor. The defense mechanism I built up in about 1983 (from all accounts) has just made me more stressed and solitary ... and wondering why. I always have this extra decision to make about whether I should let someone in. There have been multiple times I've let my guard down and the change sent the person running for the hills. Talk about something stinging.
I guess it's better to not have those people in my life anyway ... but I'd rather find it out immediately, not after I decide to let them in. Not at one of those "at times" moments. Not when it hurts so much more.
I feel like life has been kicking me when I'm down this year, but I can say I have hope that August is going to be better. In August, I'll have the opportunity to start making changes to better my future. I know I'll soon be on my way back to being the kickass girl that I am ... and after already losing someone who had become very important to me, I hope I don't lose too many more of you while I'm not.
What I did was decide to just put my true attitude out there. Where it asks you to "Write something about yourself," I, for awhile, wrote something all positive and certain about throwing plans out the window and coming out on top ... but a few hours later, I thought, "That's the biggest load of horse shit I've ever written. I'm feeling negative and sad right now, and why do I always hide it when I am?"
It made me feel better to change it to the honest truth. Kind of cathartic really. These last few years, it's just been weighing on me too much to put on this show ... as more and more I started to realize that the show might be part of what has gotten me to the unhappy place I'm at in the first place.
So, I think what's on my profile isn't going to be so even keeled anymore. For practically my entire life, I've been strong around strangers, acquaintances and many friends, and only let my emotions show to really close friends and family. So 95% of people I knew saw this person who didn't need anybody for anything, and 5% saw what a mess I could be at times.
I would see people being so open about aspects of their life, and I would think, "How could that person even dream of admitting something like that to someone they barely know? How could they stand to look so weak?" But maybe it isn't weakness at all. Now I think I've been the scared one.
My way hasn't been working in my favor. The defense mechanism I built up in about 1983 (from all accounts) has just made me more stressed and solitary ... and wondering why. I always have this extra decision to make about whether I should let someone in. There have been multiple times I've let my guard down and the change sent the person running for the hills. Talk about something stinging.
I guess it's better to not have those people in my life anyway ... but I'd rather find it out immediately, not after I decide to let them in. Not at one of those "at times" moments. Not when it hurts so much more.
I feel like life has been kicking me when I'm down this year, but I can say I have hope that August is going to be better. In August, I'll have the opportunity to start making changes to better my future. I know I'll soon be on my way back to being the kickass girl that I am ... and after already losing someone who had become very important to me, I hope I don't lose too many more of you while I'm not.
7.06.2009
Don't try this at home
I figured I should finally paint the back porch of my house while I was jobless, still out of school and have plenty of time ... I've sat and watched baseball for as long as I can without feeling like a worthless piece of crap. Also, the blue bows and country bells have haunted me since January.
Yesterday, I prepped the area, and today, I painted ... with oil-based KILZ to try to banish the remaining cat-pee smell from the previous, idiotic owners.
That stuff stinks ... so at the very end, I have a headache that nothing other than huffing KILZ will give you because the room is not well ventilated. I slapped the last of the paint on the ceiling and floor and got the hell out of there.
Upon going into my bathroom to shower, I see that I am covered in a fine mist of paint on my face and arms. And oil-based paint doesn't come off with water. Lovely.
With a cotton ball and paint thinner, I go to the task of removing the paint from my face. This was NOT a good idea. Paint thinner accosting the sensitive skin of the face burns like nothing I have felt ... yet.
I hurriedly wash my face in the sink to get it off, but it was burning more and more. At this point, I decide the sink isn't working, and I better forget cleaning up any more paint and get in the shower to fully immerse.
First, I grab some bar soap ... still burning. Then, I think, "Yeah, the bar soap is too harsh for your face ... try the Dove." So I smear the Dove body wash on my face (about now, you're probably thinking, "Why don't you try FACE product!?" but I have no facial cleansers that don't have scrubbing beads in them, so that wasn't going to work).
The burn then turns to a "soothing" (HA) cooling burn ... when I realize that the Dove is "fresh mint" scent or some shit like that. With my face on FIRE, I turn to inspect the body wash bottle ... and slip and fall in the shower like an 80-year-old woman.
Somehow the shower curtain kept me inside. I sat there in a daze, thinking, "My face feels like I'm holding it over a vat of steam, I'm terrified to look in the mirror, and now I will have a giant thigh bruise."
The bottle, by the way, said it contains cooling menthol. Nice. Nothing left to do but finish the shower and deal at this point.
By the end, the burn was decreasing a little and there was no rash to show for it. Whew. Now, my forearms remain dotted with white paint, and my face feels like ... a kind of everlasting twitch and tickling sensation. Hope that goes away.
So the moral of the story is: Don't try to use paint thinner on your face. I probably should have seen that one coming myself before attempting it.
Yesterday, I prepped the area, and today, I painted ... with oil-based KILZ to try to banish the remaining cat-pee smell from the previous, idiotic owners.
That stuff stinks ... so at the very end, I have a headache that nothing other than huffing KILZ will give you because the room is not well ventilated. I slapped the last of the paint on the ceiling and floor and got the hell out of there.
Upon going into my bathroom to shower, I see that I am covered in a fine mist of paint on my face and arms. And oil-based paint doesn't come off with water. Lovely.
With a cotton ball and paint thinner, I go to the task of removing the paint from my face. This was NOT a good idea. Paint thinner accosting the sensitive skin of the face burns like nothing I have felt ... yet.
I hurriedly wash my face in the sink to get it off, but it was burning more and more. At this point, I decide the sink isn't working, and I better forget cleaning up any more paint and get in the shower to fully immerse.
First, I grab some bar soap ... still burning. Then, I think, "Yeah, the bar soap is too harsh for your face ... try the Dove." So I smear the Dove body wash on my face (about now, you're probably thinking, "Why don't you try FACE product!?" but I have no facial cleansers that don't have scrubbing beads in them, so that wasn't going to work).
The burn then turns to a "soothing" (HA) cooling burn ... when I realize that the Dove is "fresh mint" scent or some shit like that. With my face on FIRE, I turn to inspect the body wash bottle ... and slip and fall in the shower like an 80-year-old woman.
Somehow the shower curtain kept me inside. I sat there in a daze, thinking, "My face feels like I'm holding it over a vat of steam, I'm terrified to look in the mirror, and now I will have a giant thigh bruise."
The bottle, by the way, said it contains cooling menthol. Nice. Nothing left to do but finish the shower and deal at this point.
By the end, the burn was decreasing a little and there was no rash to show for it. Whew. Now, my forearms remain dotted with white paint, and my face feels like ... a kind of everlasting twitch and tickling sensation. Hope that goes away.
So the moral of the story is: Don't try to use paint thinner on your face. I probably should have seen that one coming myself before attempting it.
6.22.2009
Getting up to speed
An old college friend recently inadvertently reminded me that I had been seriously neglecting my blog. Partly that's because it was on MySpace, and I never spend any time on there anymore ... so I created a Blogger account to get back to it.
So here's a rundown of what I've been doing since my last post nine months ago:
1. I was fortunate enough to find a graphic design job in Indianapolis at a small marketing company the week after my last day telecommuting for McClatchy. Talk about timing. Seriously awesome. I commuted an hour each way from my parents' house for the first month and a half. That was seriously unawesome. (Nope, I haven't stopped making up words.)
2. On December 30th, I closed on my house in Indy ... a purchase I had wanted for at least four years prior. Finally things were feeling like they were coming together. About three weeks later, I admitted to myself and others that I fucking hated my new job. What a brilliant plan. Saddle yourself with a mortgage and realize you can't stand your job in a shitty economy. Yep, totally felt good about that.
3. I celebrated my 30th birthday. Hooray. Really, I only say that with a little sarcasm. I was at least back in Indy ... I certainly thought my life would be different now than it is ... but if I were still in D.C., I think the milestone would have caused a lot more emotional turmoil.
4. On May 22, I was laid off from my job. I had lost all respect for the owners of the company by that point and couldn't have been more relieved to be walking out the door. Now a month later, I'm feeling pretty crappy to be such a noncontributing member of society, but I'm still relieved to not have THAT job.
5. I have no desire at all to have another graphic design job, so I'm going back to school. Right now, I'm looking at becoming a dental hygienist, a physician assistant or maybe a pharmacist. I'm not looking forward to going into debt for school since I've made it a point to, and succeeded at, not being in debt for anything other than a house and a car to this point in my life ... but I also can't see myself being miserable at work until I retire.
6. I started dating a really great guy. He's sweet and cute, perfectly sarcastic, gives great hugs ... makes me feel a way that I haven't felt about anyone in a long, LONG time. Spending time with him makes me really happy, but he also comes with as much or more of a problematic relationship history, and that worries me. I seriously hope we can eventually work each other through that, but right now I'm not sure we see our futures the same way.
7. And most recently ... I spent a good eight hours of my life copy pasting my blog archive to start this one. Stupid, shitty MySpace.
So here's a rundown of what I've been doing since my last post nine months ago:
1. I was fortunate enough to find a graphic design job in Indianapolis at a small marketing company the week after my last day telecommuting for McClatchy. Talk about timing. Seriously awesome. I commuted an hour each way from my parents' house for the first month and a half. That was seriously unawesome. (Nope, I haven't stopped making up words.)
2. On December 30th, I closed on my house in Indy ... a purchase I had wanted for at least four years prior. Finally things were feeling like they were coming together. About three weeks later, I admitted to myself and others that I fucking hated my new job. What a brilliant plan. Saddle yourself with a mortgage and realize you can't stand your job in a shitty economy. Yep, totally felt good about that.
3. I celebrated my 30th birthday. Hooray. Really, I only say that with a little sarcasm. I was at least back in Indy ... I certainly thought my life would be different now than it is ... but if I were still in D.C., I think the milestone would have caused a lot more emotional turmoil.
4. On May 22, I was laid off from my job. I had lost all respect for the owners of the company by that point and couldn't have been more relieved to be walking out the door. Now a month later, I'm feeling pretty crappy to be such a noncontributing member of society, but I'm still relieved to not have THAT job.
5. I have no desire at all to have another graphic design job, so I'm going back to school. Right now, I'm looking at becoming a dental hygienist, a physician assistant or maybe a pharmacist. I'm not looking forward to going into debt for school since I've made it a point to, and succeeded at, not being in debt for anything other than a house and a car to this point in my life ... but I also can't see myself being miserable at work until I retire.
6. I started dating a really great guy. He's sweet and cute, perfectly sarcastic, gives great hugs ... makes me feel a way that I haven't felt about anyone in a long, LONG time. Spending time with him makes me really happy, but he also comes with as much or more of a problematic relationship history, and that worries me. I seriously hope we can eventually work each other through that, but right now I'm not sure we see our futures the same way.
7. And most recently ... I spent a good eight hours of my life copy pasting my blog archive to start this one. Stupid, shitty MySpace.
9.15.2008
You think you’re better than me?
Even though I've been up since 4:30 a.m., I felt compelled to write about my day because never before have I been made to feel less valued than another human being. And it turns out it's a funny story.
I spent the day at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway working the MotoGP for my parents' business. For those who don't know, my family owns a special event concession company that has the contract for ice cream, lemonade and pretzels at the track and other places. I worked an ice cream cart. (It wasn't a good day for ice cream sales. Ick.)
The ice cream prices are $5 this year across the board. Yes, I know that's pretty expensive, but you're at an EVENT. People make comments from time to time, but they can wait to get to the gas station before they buy their Dove bar if they really want. No biggie.
I've worked events for years, and I've never encountered such a rude customer.
A 10- or 11-year-old boy approaches my cart alone from what I can tell at this point.
Me: "Can I help you?"
Boy: "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's going to be a Dove bar with almonds."
Me: (Kind of confused as to what that meant, if he was consulting himself, etc.) "OK, you want the almond one?"
Boy: "Yeah, one of those, and hold on. That's what you want, too, right?" (Waving to his dad.)
Dad: "Yeah, two Dove with almonds. How much is it going to be?"
Me: "It'll be 10 dollars, please."
Dad: "10 dollars!!" (Opening his wallet to reveal a LOT of cash inside.)
Seeing how well-dressed he and his son were and how much money he had stashed away, I should have known this guy was only saying something to be a dick. Note name change from here on.
Douche: "10 dollars. Wow. You should be wearing a mask."
Me: (Still trying to be polite.) "I'm sorry, sir. I'm only staffing the cart. I don't set or have any say in the prices."
Douche: "What? I SAID you should be wearing a mask. You should have a better comeback than that. A mask. That's robbery."
At this point, I'm startled because I'm quite unaware I'm supposed to be coming up with clever retorts for customers. I gave him his change from the $20 he shoved at me, and luckily another customer approached, so I was able to focus on others.
Three more people came up to make purchases and the douche and his son were still lingering under my umbrella grousing to each other about how ludicrous the prices were as they opened the boxes to their Dove bars. After the other customers leave, it's now an obvious ploy to be able to stick around to cause more of a scene.
Douche Jr.: (Holding up his empty box.) "Do you take trash?"
Me: "No, I don't have a trash can at my stand, but there is one right over there." (Pointing to the trash can no more than six steps away.)
Douche: (Interrupting me.) "For these prices you bet you take trash."
Douche Jr.: (Handing his box to his dad.) "Yeah."
Me: "No, sir, I'm sorry. I don't have a trash can."
Douche: "I bet if we just leave them on top of your cart you take trash."
Douche Jr.: "I know."
Me: (Somehow, I am only now starting to lose my pleasant, customer-service attitude on the outside.) "Sir, that's really pretty rude."
Douche: "Rude? I am a guest of this track, and YOU are an employee. Here's your trash!" (Slamming the two boxes onto the top of the cart.)
They start to walk away, and I am completely livid and shocked at this point, so I call after him, "That's really nice for you to be so rude and arrogant and set such a great example for your son!!"
Douche turns and waves his hand backward at me while Douche Jr. rolls his eyes.
This was all before it POURED down rain and a giant tent came flying across Georgetown Road about 8 feet airborne in 60 mph wind gusts. Then it nearly flipped over the chain-link fence that encloses the track before getting stuck in electrical wires where it hung precariously until it crashed back down into the street about 20 yards from where I was standing. Fun.
Though the race ended six hours ago, my toes are just starting to de-prune.
Final note about the track: Men should never wear crocs.
I spent the day at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway working the MotoGP for my parents' business. For those who don't know, my family owns a special event concession company that has the contract for ice cream, lemonade and pretzels at the track and other places. I worked an ice cream cart. (It wasn't a good day for ice cream sales. Ick.)
The ice cream prices are $5 this year across the board. Yes, I know that's pretty expensive, but you're at an EVENT. People make comments from time to time, but they can wait to get to the gas station before they buy their Dove bar if they really want. No biggie.
I've worked events for years, and I've never encountered such a rude customer.
A 10- or 11-year-old boy approaches my cart alone from what I can tell at this point.
Me: "Can I help you?"
Boy: "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's going to be a Dove bar with almonds."
Me: (Kind of confused as to what that meant, if he was consulting himself, etc.) "OK, you want the almond one?"
Boy: "Yeah, one of those, and hold on. That's what you want, too, right?" (Waving to his dad.)
Dad: "Yeah, two Dove with almonds. How much is it going to be?"
Me: "It'll be 10 dollars, please."
Dad: "10 dollars!!" (Opening his wallet to reveal a LOT of cash inside.)
Seeing how well-dressed he and his son were and how much money he had stashed away, I should have known this guy was only saying something to be a dick. Note name change from here on.
Douche: "10 dollars. Wow. You should be wearing a mask."
Me: (Still trying to be polite.) "I'm sorry, sir. I'm only staffing the cart. I don't set or have any say in the prices."
Douche: "What? I SAID you should be wearing a mask. You should have a better comeback than that. A mask. That's robbery."
At this point, I'm startled because I'm quite unaware I'm supposed to be coming up with clever retorts for customers. I gave him his change from the $20 he shoved at me, and luckily another customer approached, so I was able to focus on others.
Three more people came up to make purchases and the douche and his son were still lingering under my umbrella grousing to each other about how ludicrous the prices were as they opened the boxes to their Dove bars. After the other customers leave, it's now an obvious ploy to be able to stick around to cause more of a scene.
Douche Jr.: (Holding up his empty box.) "Do you take trash?"
Me: "No, I don't have a trash can at my stand, but there is one right over there." (Pointing to the trash can no more than six steps away.)
Douche: (Interrupting me.) "For these prices you bet you take trash."
Douche Jr.: (Handing his box to his dad.) "Yeah."
Me: "No, sir, I'm sorry. I don't have a trash can."
Douche: "I bet if we just leave them on top of your cart you take trash."
Douche Jr.: "I know."
Me: (Somehow, I am only now starting to lose my pleasant, customer-service attitude on the outside.) "Sir, that's really pretty rude."
Douche: "Rude? I am a guest of this track, and YOU are an employee. Here's your trash!" (Slamming the two boxes onto the top of the cart.)
They start to walk away, and I am completely livid and shocked at this point, so I call after him, "That's really nice for you to be so rude and arrogant and set such a great example for your son!!"
Douche turns and waves his hand backward at me while Douche Jr. rolls his eyes.
This was all before it POURED down rain and a giant tent came flying across Georgetown Road about 8 feet airborne in 60 mph wind gusts. Then it nearly flipped over the chain-link fence that encloses the track before getting stuck in electrical wires where it hung precariously until it crashed back down into the street about 20 yards from where I was standing. Fun.
Though the race ended six hours ago, my toes are just starting to de-prune.
Final note about the track: Men should never wear crocs.
8.26.2008
My last blind date ... out with a bang
Date Lab is the Washington Post's version of "Blind Date." They take and review applications, match people up supposedly based on those answers, have you go out for a paid dinner and interview you after. It appears in the Post's Sunday magazine and online. They RARELY do a good job setting people up.
Web-troller Jen reads them religiously even though she has never lived in D.C. She begged me to sign up, and I laughed at her for actually finding them to read since she didn't live there. Eons later, I was bored enough to fill out the application, and I told her it was her birthday present. (Thank god I was bored because it was NOT a short freakin' application.)
That was in April.
Months passed, and I forgot about it … except for when my friend, Melina, asked me if they had responded. (She was slightly obsessed hehe.)
In June, I decided I was going to move back to Indy, and the next week, Date Lab e-mails that they had found me a match. Surprise, surprise … nice timing.
I was not going to do it since I was moving, but both Jen and Melina said I HAD to do it anyway. I finally agreed even though I felt a little guilty.
The dinner was nine days prior to my leaving town. The set up finally showed up in this weekend's Post. You can read it here.
According to the comments, fellow D.C.ers didn't agree with Melina and Jen's assessment. Thanks, guys. :)
Web-troller Jen reads them religiously even though she has never lived in D.C. She begged me to sign up, and I laughed at her for actually finding them to read since she didn't live there. Eons later, I was bored enough to fill out the application, and I told her it was her birthday present. (Thank god I was bored because it was NOT a short freakin' application.)
That was in April.
Months passed, and I forgot about it … except for when my friend, Melina, asked me if they had responded. (She was slightly obsessed hehe.)
In June, I decided I was going to move back to Indy, and the next week, Date Lab e-mails that they had found me a match. Surprise, surprise … nice timing.
I was not going to do it since I was moving, but both Jen and Melina said I HAD to do it anyway. I finally agreed even though I felt a little guilty.
The dinner was nine days prior to my leaving town. The set up finally showed up in this weekend's Post. You can read it here.
According to the comments, fellow D.C.ers didn't agree with Melina and Jen's assessment. Thanks, guys. :)
8.05.2008
Moving, lack of blogs, other random
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6.18.2008
She’s just not that into you
I'll admit that I read some advice columns. A lot of times it's because during work, I have to go through newspapers to search for graphics or illustrations our company can request from contributors.
I had to share this one because it is one of the most hilarious questions I have heard from a situational standpoint:
Dear Amy: My girlfriend is a bit of a neat freak.
This weekend, things were getting amorous, and we were heading to the bedroom when I lost track of her. Her explanation for the delay was that she stopped to clean the cat litter box.
I found the mental imagery disgusting, and it ended my interest in cuddling.
She is completely unapologetic. She insists it's no big deal and that I'm being a baby.
I cannot get her to understand how unromantic it is to clean the litter box somewhere between passionate kissing and lovemaking.
—Upset Boyfriend
Dear Upset: I'm with you.
Also, when your partner denies that something you find upsetting should be upsetting, she is denying your right to your own feelings and reactions.
Even if she doesn't share your reaction to this, your girlfriend should confirm your right to your own feelings and do her best to see things from your perspective.
If your girlfriend can't imagine how this interruption would make you feel, then perhaps the next time she is feeling romantic, you should take a little "break" and rotate your tires.
I say it could be because she's making out with a guy that uses terms like "amorous" (ick), but no matter the problem ... dude, she couldn't have been THAT into it if she got sidetracked by the cat litter box. Seriously. You've got bigger problems.
I had to share this one because it is one of the most hilarious questions I have heard from a situational standpoint:
Dear Amy: My girlfriend is a bit of a neat freak.
This weekend, things were getting amorous, and we were heading to the bedroom when I lost track of her. Her explanation for the delay was that she stopped to clean the cat litter box.
I found the mental imagery disgusting, and it ended my interest in cuddling.
She is completely unapologetic. She insists it's no big deal and that I'm being a baby.
I cannot get her to understand how unromantic it is to clean the litter box somewhere between passionate kissing and lovemaking.
—Upset Boyfriend
Dear Upset: I'm with you.
Also, when your partner denies that something you find upsetting should be upsetting, she is denying your right to your own feelings and reactions.
Even if she doesn't share your reaction to this, your girlfriend should confirm your right to your own feelings and do her best to see things from your perspective.
If your girlfriend can't imagine how this interruption would make you feel, then perhaps the next time she is feeling romantic, you should take a little "break" and rotate your tires.
I say it could be because she's making out with a guy that uses terms like "amorous" (ick), but no matter the problem ... dude, she couldn't have been THAT into it if she got sidetracked by the cat litter box. Seriously. You've got bigger problems.
5.10.2008
Apparently I’m pregnant
Jemaine: "I made all of the ladies in the first two rows pregnant." -Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros
Yeah, we were in the second row of the Flight of the Conchords show tonight, so the lyrics applied. They were closer to me for part of the show than my office mate in the next cubicle. It was awesome, and I didn't even have to make any effort for the tickets. Thanks, Mike. :)
For all of you who immediately clicked on this blog because of the title and its rumorous implications ... you didn't REALLY think I was pregnant did you? Hahahahaha. Sorry. No. No. Negative. Not.
OK, now that that's out of the way, great show. "If You're Into It," check. "Mutha'uckas," check. "The Most Beautiful Girl in the Room," check. And Nick, if you were there, this could have been you during "Business Time":
They asked if anyone in the auditorium could play drums, the room was silent, and it totally took this dude at least 15 seconds to speak up. I couldn't believe it. You could have been up there in a flash from where we were sitting.
And did I mention, I <3 Bret.
That's all I've got. Good night.
Yeah, we were in the second row of the Flight of the Conchords show tonight, so the lyrics applied. They were closer to me for part of the show than my office mate in the next cubicle. It was awesome, and I didn't even have to make any effort for the tickets. Thanks, Mike. :)
For all of you who immediately clicked on this blog because of the title and its rumorous implications ... you didn't REALLY think I was pregnant did you? Hahahahaha. Sorry. No. No. Negative. Not.
OK, now that that's out of the way, great show. "If You're Into It," check. "Mutha'uckas," check. "The Most Beautiful Girl in the Room," check. And Nick, if you were there, this could have been you during "Business Time":
They asked if anyone in the auditorium could play drums, the room was silent, and it totally took this dude at least 15 seconds to speak up. I couldn't believe it. You could have been up there in a flash from where we were sitting.
And did I mention, I <3 Bret.
That's all I've got. Good night.
5.06.2008
And she married the creep
"I scouted her out for a month," he said. "I wanted to see her routine, and I wanted to see what time she came in, see how consistent she was. And sure enough, she was like a machine. She would come in right after work and get on the treadmill and do her abs. And finally, I build enough courage after about 3½ weeks. And I said, 'I know you are going to go do some abs after. And do you mind if I join you?' "
Smoooooth.
Oh, these days of being skeptical of everyone. I read that and I think, "GAH! And I would be FREAKED out and change gyms. Immediately."
But no, this woman* marries the guy that bluntly admits he has been stalking her routine ... one young Alex Rodriguez. (He also apparently passes out at births. Puss.)
I guess I'll miss out on my ticket to millions. I mean ... if I went to the gym. ;)
*She says she did not know he was a celebrity at the time.
Smoooooth.
Oh, these days of being skeptical of everyone. I read that and I think, "GAH! And I would be FREAKED out and change gyms. Immediately."
But no, this woman* marries the guy that bluntly admits he has been stalking her routine ... one young Alex Rodriguez. (He also apparently passes out at births. Puss.)
I guess I'll miss out on my ticket to millions. I mean ... if I went to the gym. ;)
*She says she did not know he was a celebrity at the time.
4.16.2008
Airport hell
Friday night, my 10:05 p.m. flight turned into an 11:45 p.m., then 12:25 a.m. and finally, a 1 a.m. flight (and I wasn't even flying American).
I already felt a little subdued and blah from drinking a couple of pints after working all day then riding a bumpy as hell bus out to Dulles for about 45 minutes (not smart) ... and my dad now lives about 1.5 hours from the airport, so you can imagine the great mood I was in thinking that I wouldn't see a bed until about four in the morning.
I go get some food, waste time and when arriving back at the gate ... that is when I started feeling like Neal Page.
I went to the counter to check the flight status fearful because it was no longer on the departure screen. The airline agent knew nothing about what was going on.
Enter my own Del Griffith who quickly stepped up to give me the updates his BlackBerry was feeding him. I was happy to hear the flight was still a go, but I should have known ... He was just too eager.
We stood waiting for the news we were switched from a C gate to A terminal. "Come on, let's trek!" he says after introducing himself as Michael.
NOTE: I know this list gets crazy. Feel free to skim to not feel overwhelmed, but I had to list everything I could just for the sheer scope of it all.
In the 15-20 minute walk and shuttle ride, I learn:
-North Carolina is home for him
-He grew up in New York
-He's a rocket scientist, but now travels as an information technology salesman
-He has two girls and a boy, 8, 5 and 2
-If he moved to Indianapolis, he'd have Colts season tickets and go to the 500 every year
-The first 500 he watched was Danica Patrick's rookie year
-He's more of an F1 guy, but not NASCAR because the cars look like they're driving through mud
-His wife started liking F1 when he demanded to watch qualifying on TV
-Her favorite driver is Kimi Raikkonen
-His friends make fun of her because he's a drunk
-Her sports interest goes 1) figure skating 2) "American" football 3) F1
-She's a Patriots fan
-He feels bad having a second car since he travels so much, but he loves his Acura MDX
-He deserves it after keeping a Camry for 10 years
-He liked it so much he traded in his wife's 7-year-old minivan for another one
Here is how I feel on the shuttle:
When we reach the gate, I'm able to get away to use the restroom and make some calls to let people know how delayed I am. I tried switching rows of seats as a hint.
When he realizes I'm off the phone, he moves into my aisle and starts up again. I check the time ... still 1.5 hours to go.
The additional things I know about this man:
-His kids go to a private school that has grades K-12
-Elementary school students make banners for homecoming
-He's thinking of taking a teaching position there to stop traveling, and he'd at least get tuition reduction
-One parent working there gets a 50 percent reduction, both parents working there gets 75
-Trying to make finances work, but his wife would have to go back to work to do it
-She had a master's in health administration, but hasn't worked in nine years
-His dad was a lawyer that worked long hours and went to teaching to spend more time with him
-He was an only child
-Doesn't understand sibling rivalry
-His family has five cats
-His house has a walkout basement with screened-in porch that the cats love
-The cats all got along except Daniel didn't like the last one to come
-Daniel hates Wendy and bites her tail and it gets infected
-Their 2-year-old pet frog just died
-He thinks it is because she just laid eggs, and it really wipes her out every time
-He worries that his son should have a dog
-He had a British Blue cat as a kid that loved being brushed (he acted this out from the cat's perspective)
-The cat could differentiate the sound of the brush dresser drawer opening from others and would come running
-His oldest daughter doesn't get her room painted until she cleans it
-He'll have to paint it purple with a pink border
I'm sure there was more, but I can't remember it all. I have never been around someone that would just NOT STOP talking.
It was amazing. I may not know this man's last name, but I know more about what is going on in his life than I do about many of my friends.
This is how I felt when finally boarding the plane:
I already felt a little subdued and blah from drinking a couple of pints after working all day then riding a bumpy as hell bus out to Dulles for about 45 minutes (not smart) ... and my dad now lives about 1.5 hours from the airport, so you can imagine the great mood I was in thinking that I wouldn't see a bed until about four in the morning.
I go get some food, waste time and when arriving back at the gate ... that is when I started feeling like Neal Page.
I went to the counter to check the flight status fearful because it was no longer on the departure screen. The airline agent knew nothing about what was going on.
Enter my own Del Griffith who quickly stepped up to give me the updates his BlackBerry was feeding him. I was happy to hear the flight was still a go, but I should have known ... He was just too eager.
We stood waiting for the news we were switched from a C gate to A terminal. "Come on, let's trek!" he says after introducing himself as Michael.
NOTE: I know this list gets crazy. Feel free to skim to not feel overwhelmed, but I had to list everything I could just for the sheer scope of it all.
In the 15-20 minute walk and shuttle ride, I learn:
-North Carolina is home for him
-He grew up in New York
-He's a rocket scientist, but now travels as an information technology salesman
-He has two girls and a boy, 8, 5 and 2
-If he moved to Indianapolis, he'd have Colts season tickets and go to the 500 every year
-The first 500 he watched was Danica Patrick's rookie year
-He's more of an F1 guy, but not NASCAR because the cars look like they're driving through mud
-His wife started liking F1 when he demanded to watch qualifying on TV
-Her favorite driver is Kimi Raikkonen
-His friends make fun of her because he's a drunk
-Her sports interest goes 1) figure skating 2) "American" football 3) F1
-She's a Patriots fan
-He feels bad having a second car since he travels so much, but he loves his Acura MDX
-He deserves it after keeping a Camry for 10 years
-He liked it so much he traded in his wife's 7-year-old minivan for another one
Here is how I feel on the shuttle:
When we reach the gate, I'm able to get away to use the restroom and make some calls to let people know how delayed I am. I tried switching rows of seats as a hint.
When he realizes I'm off the phone, he moves into my aisle and starts up again. I check the time ... still 1.5 hours to go.
The additional things I know about this man:
-His kids go to a private school that has grades K-12
-Elementary school students make banners for homecoming
-He's thinking of taking a teaching position there to stop traveling, and he'd at least get tuition reduction
-One parent working there gets a 50 percent reduction, both parents working there gets 75
-Trying to make finances work, but his wife would have to go back to work to do it
-She had a master's in health administration, but hasn't worked in nine years
-His dad was a lawyer that worked long hours and went to teaching to spend more time with him
-He was an only child
-Doesn't understand sibling rivalry
-His family has five cats
-His house has a walkout basement with screened-in porch that the cats love
-The cats all got along except Daniel didn't like the last one to come
-Daniel hates Wendy and bites her tail and it gets infected
-Their 2-year-old pet frog just died
-He thinks it is because she just laid eggs, and it really wipes her out every time
-He worries that his son should have a dog
-He had a British Blue cat as a kid that loved being brushed (he acted this out from the cat's perspective)
-The cat could differentiate the sound of the brush dresser drawer opening from others and would come running
-His oldest daughter doesn't get her room painted until she cleans it
-He'll have to paint it purple with a pink border
I'm sure there was more, but I can't remember it all. I have never been around someone that would just NOT STOP talking.
It was amazing. I may not know this man's last name, but I know more about what is going on in his life than I do about many of my friends.
This is how I felt when finally boarding the plane:
4.07.2008
UPDATE: Robert Montgomery Knight will bring me back to Volkswagen
Best part of the evening:
Jayhawks do NOT make me happy, but Bob always can. :)
Jayhawks do NOT make me happy, but Bob always can. :)
4.02.2008
I appear put together, but I might be losing it
When I got home on Monday, a folder awaited me on the floor. In it, a request to answer more questions for an Indy company I submitted a resume to ... on which they would base their decision to bring me in for an interview.
Of course I was happy they were interested, but my mind raced with what to say to make sure I’d get into their office. I spent all last night on it ... walked to Kinko’s at 1:15 a.m. (even after some motherly questioning from Jen), and this morning it was ready to send off.
I wanted to feel relief that I completed it before their deadline. Relief that it was finished, and I could sit on my ass and relax after work for the rest of the week. Or just relief to not have to think about it.
That didn’t happen. Instead, the morning devolved into a signature Elaine-type moment. I walked to the post office, paid the man my postage and watched him toss the envelope back onto the mail counter.
Sitcom-style, I had flashes in my mind of all the things I wrote in response to their questions. Should I have put this? Should I have added that? Was it too much? Not enough? I can’t let this good career move slip away.
On Monday, I felt excitement they were giving me the chance to move up in their candidate list. On Tuesday, I was tired from the writing and making sure everything was perfect. And on Wednesday, I looked at it one last time on the counter feeling clamped down upon because it’s out of my hands, and as I have been doing for months, I wait.
I walked to the metro and three times considered running back into the post office to ask for it back. I still had two more days after all. I could still write more for the first question. I could add more insight. I could do SOMETHING.
I pushed forward as I wondered ... Would he give me it back? Is there some rule that after the postage goes on, it can only go to the mailer? Would I go back and see beady, Newman eyes as he laughed? I could see "Seinfeld" unfolding in my head.
So I kept going. Even halfway down the escalator into the subway I paused and thought I should go back up, but I didn’t.
It’s en route. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
Of course I was happy they were interested, but my mind raced with what to say to make sure I’d get into their office. I spent all last night on it ... walked to Kinko’s at 1:15 a.m. (even after some motherly questioning from Jen), and this morning it was ready to send off.
I wanted to feel relief that I completed it before their deadline. Relief that it was finished, and I could sit on my ass and relax after work for the rest of the week. Or just relief to not have to think about it.
That didn’t happen. Instead, the morning devolved into a signature Elaine-type moment. I walked to the post office, paid the man my postage and watched him toss the envelope back onto the mail counter.
Sitcom-style, I had flashes in my mind of all the things I wrote in response to their questions. Should I have put this? Should I have added that? Was it too much? Not enough? I can’t let this good career move slip away.
On Monday, I felt excitement they were giving me the chance to move up in their candidate list. On Tuesday, I was tired from the writing and making sure everything was perfect. And on Wednesday, I looked at it one last time on the counter feeling clamped down upon because it’s out of my hands, and as I have been doing for months, I wait.
I walked to the metro and three times considered running back into the post office to ask for it back. I still had two more days after all. I could still write more for the first question. I could add more insight. I could do SOMETHING.
I pushed forward as I wondered ... Would he give me it back? Is there some rule that after the postage goes on, it can only go to the mailer? Would I go back and see beady, Newman eyes as he laughed? I could see "Seinfeld" unfolding in my head.
So I kept going. Even halfway down the escalator into the subway I paused and thought I should go back up, but I didn’t.
It’s en route. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
3.22.2008
Tourney talk
I don’t know if I’m more irritated that Indiana actually bowed out in the first round of the tournament (yeah, I know ... it was kind of expected), or that this guy had a part in it:
I guess that headband is simply for fashion, since any purpose it might have ... say, keeping your man-bangs out of your face ... is obviously ignored.
Oh, how I’d like to see him in person. A 7-foot dude who styles his hair and quite possibly rocks accessories on a regular basis. Not something you see everyday. And not something you want defeating your basketball team.
I guess that headband is simply for fashion, since any purpose it might have ... say, keeping your man-bangs out of your face ... is obviously ignored.
Oh, how I’d like to see him in person. A 7-foot dude who styles his hair and quite possibly rocks accessories on a regular basis. Not something you see everyday. And not something you want defeating your basketball team.
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