No Stuffing, Please

I'm probably alone in this, but I've never been a fan of Thanksgiving. In fact, about the only thing I have ever really liked about it (as an adult), is that I get a day off from work. The food doesn't do much to woo me into a state of overeating oblivion. It does usually allow me a long nap, and I am always grateful for that.

Yesterday, my sister and her husband didn't make it to my grandparents' house, which was very untraditional for them. She did call, and I stole the phone from my mother to talk to her. I guess I caught her off gaurd as she said, "Who is this?" to which I replied, "It's your SIS-TER!" and everyone in the background started to laugh. We chatted for a few minutes and lamented about how working the mall has its good and bad points this time of year. Before handing the phone back to my mother, I told my sister that I loved her. She started to laugh and said "bye," but I told her to tell me that she loved me too, to which all the eavesdroppers laughed again. Cracking up, she appeased me with an "I love you too."

I also got to see my newest cousin, which for some strange reason, is like having an elephant in the room. I cannot accept the fact that he is actually family and my aunt's child. I kept looking at her and looking at him in complete disbelief. He is about fourteen months old, and even though I saw my aunt pregnant with him, I still can't accept the fact she has had a child. I am also very scared of him. He did come waddling into the bathroom as I was putting on lipstick. I bent down with the sneaky idea that maybe I would put some on him, and he suddenly decided to dump his toy into the toilet. Luckily, I stopped that one from happening; however, I didn't think about him sticking himself in the toilet. To my horror, I shrieked and jumped out into the hall. My aunt was right behind me and quickly scooped him into the sink for a thorough hand washing.

When everything was said and done, we had a really nice Thanksgiving. I enjoyed watching my grandfather stuff himself as he exclaimed that every item is the best he's ever had. I was disappointed to see that my grandmother did not make her famous homemade rolls. As I mentioned not too long ago, she decided to have a facelift this year, which she promised would not impact her cooking abilities. When I voiced my unhappiness, she asked me if I didn't like the bread. I told her that I usually never discriminate against any kind of bread, and though these rolls were good, they weren't hers.

I did get to read some yesterday. Sadly, I am still working on one of the books my mother bought for me from my birthday (Stiff). Everytime I pull it out, I get lots of questions on how I chose such a book. I actually read an excerpt on Salon, and I immediately fell in love with the author's sarcasm. (Shocking, I know.) So, now I am down to my very last chapter. We shall see if I can hold myself still long enough to finish it before Christmas gets here.


My Peace

To the jackass who STOLE my password on AOL, I am fully aware you are pretending to be me. And when I get home this afternoon, I am going to conspire to think of the trickiest of passwords, which might also be a personal message to you. You will SPAM no more from my account.

Get a new line of work you 'tard.

And to the 309 AOL users (and counting), I'm really sorry.

P.S. I unsent about a hundred of your messages, probably more. So take that!


What Happens When You Ask a Reno for Computer Help

"I have a problem, and I need your help, but I need you to be nice--"
"Because this is typically where you get really short and annoyed with the person."
"Go ahead."
"Okay, in my spreadsheet, I added a new column for the new loan numbers, and for some reason, it keeps leaving it off."
"Where's the column on the spreadsheet?"
"It's on the left side. I don't know what to do. I've never seen it default this way."
"Try to set the print area. I bet that's what it is."
"Okay, what do I do? Just 'select print area?' Okay, it didn't do anything."
"No, you need to highlight what you want to print first, and then you have to 'select print area.'"
"What happened?"
"Yeah, now it's only showing that one column."
"Did you highlight the whole thing or just that one column?"
"Oh, I just did that one column."
Huge sigh. "Yeah, you are so much like my mother."
"Shut up! I know what that means. I thought you meant I was supposed to highlight what I wanted to add. Sheez."
"If I meant that, then I would have said to highlight which column(s) you need to add."
"You are so much like your father. I prefaced this whole thing with a request for you to be patient and nice."
"Yeah, but I'm never patient. I can't just fake that. And I was nice. I can't help that you can't understand English."
"Okay, there you go again. You're calling me an idiot. You would so not put up with this kind of treatment, and you know it. This is exactly how your dad treats you, and you get so upset."
"I'm fully aware (laughing), but I did help you."
"Yes, I know, silver lining."
"And then I had to spend five more minutes listening to you complain about how mean I am."
"Yes, I know, but you are mean."
"I cannot help it."
"I should have just hand written all the loan numbers than face this."
"It wasn't that bad."
"It was!"
"Was not. Stop being so dramatic."
Sigh. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."

And as Ellen DeGeneres would say, back to the loving place.


No Match to the Matchbox

I just returned from one the best concerts I have ever been to--mainly because Rob Thomas makes my ovaries ache with lust. He is the most beautiful man, and when he swings his hips just ever so slightly, I start to drool, alongside every other female in the audience. At one point, while watching him twirl the microphone around, I thought to myself he is so going to drop that, and sure enough, he did; however, he recovered nicely saying, "Did you see that? It attacked me. And where the fuck were you? Security my ass!" He even makes the word "fuck" sound enticingly sexy, and I totally want to smoke when I see him with a cigarette. He's just hot, hot, hot I tell you. I watched most of the show about fifty feet away from him, glued to my binoculars. I memorized every inch of his body as best as I could. I'm convinced he is heaven on earth. I just hope my pictures turn out to support that opinion.



On my way to work this morning, I had this thought:

If we could avoid traffic jams, we would be one step closer to world peace.


Duck & Run

I am seriously considering stealing my keyboard from my new place of employment just so that I can clean it in the privacy of my home. There are things growing under these keys, I swear. And though I have swabbed the majority of the stickiness and black sludge from the tops of the keys, I could sleep better at night knowing my keyboard was virtually sterile and that the Ebola virus wasn't lurking beneath my space bar.


A Quick Rundown of What Lies on my Nightstand

(1) Juice
(2) Afrin
(3) Saline Solution
(4) Vicks VapoRub
(5) Robitussin Cold, 2 boxes
(6) Sudafed Sinus & Allergy
(7) Antiseptic Sino Fresh
(8) Thermometer
(9) Puffs Plus
(10) Carmex, for my ultra chapped lips thanks to the route air must now take into & out of my body.

The Girl Who Abhors Taking Drugs


Moms Know Best

On November 1, 2003, I wrote an entry about people who annoyed the crap out of me. My mother brought it to my attention, that six days later, I became pretty sick. Please note that on November 1, I wrote about a girl who came to work sick. I also happened to throw something in the trash can that very day, and because I had to stuff it inside the trash can, I felt a snot rag, which is pretty disgusting. I'm not sure if the germs jumped from the trash can to me, if I forgot to wash my hands, or what, but I think I have what that freak gave me.

I started feeling pretty bad on Friday, and as a result, came home and immediately crawled into bed. I woke up feeling worse on Saturday, but I didn't want to call in sick. So, I went into work. Sunday, I felt even worse, and now my whole body aches like I went into the gym or something. Of course, all the medicines I've been taking really haven't done much. I can't breathe through my nostrils, and each time I attempt to eat, I'm reminded of that fact and feel like I'm going to suffocate. I continue to down loads of Vitamin C, drink juice with more Vitamin C, and even suck on some Vitamin C candies just for good measure. (And I'm not sure why I think the "v" in Vitamin C should be capitalized, but I'm just too drained to go back and fix it.) Please note that once again, Sudafed, Sudafed Maximum Strength, Actafed, Vicks, and Saline solution haven't budged the snot in my sinuses to ship out. The only thing that works is stinking Afrin. I want to know why that stuff is so good.

I feel like crap, and I so badly want to call in sick to work tomorrow; however, Monday falls in conjunction with the holiday on Tuesday, and my place of employment tends to not pay people if they call in sick in conjunction with a holiday. I also just moved to a new department, and I fear the people there will view me as fake or a wimp, even though they wouldn't really be inconvienced if I didn't come in. Does anyone else have this much trouble calling in sick?

And how can snot drip from your nose, but air cannot get in, and when you blow your nose, nothing comes out? That's just wrong on so many logical levels.


Beyond Bad Aim

What does it say about me that no matter how close the trash can is to me, that I cannot, for the life of me, hit it? That is something about myself that seriously irks me. I'm a Taurus, and we are supposed to be earthy creatures, which should involve some skill with my trash making it into the can. I'm talking inches away people...sometimes standing directly over it. It's almost like I've been cursed or that the trash can refuses to help me out.


I'm Imagining My Future Right Now

A police officer pulls a guy over for speeding and they have the
following exchange:

Officer: May I see your driver's license?

Driver: I don't have one. I had it suspended when I got my 5th DWI.

Officer: May I see the registration for this vehicle?

Driver: It's not my car. I stole it.

Officer: The car is stolen?

Driver: That's right. But come to think of it, I think I saw the owner's card in the glove box when I was putting my gun in there.

Officer: There's a gun in the glove box?

Driver: Yes sir. That's where I put it after I shot and killed the woman who owns this car and stuffed her in the trunk.

Officer: There's a BODY in the TRUNK?!

Driver: Yes, sir.

Hearing this, the officer immediately called his captain. The car was quickly surrounded by police, and the captain approached the driver to handle the tense situation:

Captain: Sir, can I see your license?

Driver: Sure. Here it is.

It was valid.

Captain: Who's car is this?

Driver: It's mine, officer. Here's the registration.

The driver owned the car.

Captain: Could you slowly open your glove box so I can see if there's a gun in it?

Driver: Yes, sir, but there's no gun in it.

Sure enough, there was nothing in the glove box.

Captain: Would you mind opening your trunk? I was told you said there's a body in it.

Driver: No problem.

Trunk is opened; no body.

Captain: I don't understand it. The officer who stopped you said you told him you didn't have a license, stole the car, had a gun in the glove box, and that there was a dead body in the trunk.

Driver: Yeah, I'll bet the big liar told you I was speeding, too.


'Tis a New Day

I started my last new job today. There have been so many, I've lost count. It still feels like I've moved away or something. I can't keep up with all the new faces and new names. Every girl I work with has a name beginning with "S." I think I'm going to have to adopt that thing where I refer to everyone as "honey."

I hope I've made a good choice. I don't make enough of those in my life, and who really gets tired of making good decisions?


People Who Annoyed the Crap Out of Me Today

As we are looking at a curtain rod....
Customer: "We'd like to get this rod."
Me: "Sure, what size do you need?"
Customer: "The size that is on this board."
Me: "Okay, then you need the 28-48."
Customer: "No, no, we want this size on the bored. This exact size. We don't need the adjustable."
Me: "Oh, well, that is just a display. I can't sell that specific one to you; however, the 28-48 is adjustable to the size you need."
Customer: "Can't we just have this one?"

Another customer looking at a curtain rod...
Customer: "Ma'am, could you help us?"
Me: "Yes, what can I do for you?"
Customer: "Do you have this rod?"
Me: "No ma'am. We're out of it, but if you check back with us, we'll get more in."
Customer: "Can we order it?"
Me: "You can order it, but you will have to pay shipping. Do you live far?"
Customer: "No, we live in Germantown, and this is first time we've been here (to a mall that has existed for at least five years and is approximatley fifteen minutes away). We'll just order it. We don't ever come out here."

Answering the phone...
Customer: "Yes, I'm calling from the courthouse. Do you have outdoor wreaths four-five feet."
Me: "Four-five each? That's a pretty big wreath. We don't carry any that large."
Customer: "Are you sure?"
Me: "Yes ma'am."
Customer: "What size are yours?"
Me: "Maybe a foot to a foot and a half."
Customer: "But someone told me you had them."
Me: "Well, we don't, and ours aren't meant to be used outdoors. Maybe they meant the Old Time Pottery."
Customer: "Yes, they did. What store is this?"

Checking out a customer...
Customer: "How much is that candle?"
Me: "$1.99"
Customer turns to daughter: "Honey, do you want this. It's still a $1.99."
Me: "That's 75% off the original price. It's a really good deal."
Customer: "Yeah, but it doesn't even smell."

Coworker complaining of headcold...
Me: "Would you like some medicine? I have Benedryl, Sudafed, Allegra...?"
Coworker: "Oh, no, I'm taking some herbal stuff."
Me: "Oh, are you taking Echinacea?"
Coworker: (correcting my pronunciation) "No, something else, but all those over-the-counter medicines actually prolong your sickness. I read the whole article that was published in a medical journal."
Me: "Oh, that's interesting." (And I totally meant, "Okay, freak. Whatever. Keep blowing your nose every five minutes. And when I catch what you got because I attempted to throw away a piece of trash, and my hand touched one of your wet snot rags, I'm totally gonna kick your ass.")
Doing the Bull Thing

I posted an entry about two weeks ago stating that I found a new job--with a pay raise. Well, it looks like I found two new jobs, and I'm working both of them. I have become a part-time organizational bitch to the wealthy, defined as those who are willing to pay me to organize their lives. I don't think that I ever realized that the whole world doesn't function like me. Sometimes, you grow so accustomed to the way that you have been raised that you just assume everyone works the same way. This past week, I've come face-to-face with that ingrained Reno-thing. Not everyone is a Reno, and I can't see why. We are such good people. We are efficient neat-freaks who do everything for ourselves that is humanly possible. Let me cite some examples. We don't dare take our vehicles in for ANY routine maintenance. We don't have hired help--maids, lawncare, or even house-sitters. We don't use professional painters or plumbers. We pull each other's teeth. (Okay, I say "we," but I really mean mom, and she will totally yank your tooth out with some plyers. If she says she's just going to get a "grip" on the tooth first and that she will tell you before she pulls, if she pulls, remember that this is the same woman that married into the Reno family, & she's getting that freaking tooth out even if it has roots connected to your sinus cavities.) So, where was I? Ah, yes...being a Reno and organizational skills, which have been continually pointed out to me in the past month or so. So much so, that my boss told a few of her friends, and they requested my services. And this is where I realize the world isn't like the Renos. People don't know how to use their computers. I was paid for an hour as I dragged & dropped files through Explorer. I organized a few kitchen cabinets and tried to explain the best way to begin organizing a house full of "problem areas." I had to create a template spreadsheet to track business expenses and explained the benefits of Quicken. Need I even state the reaction I received when I questioned if someone had ever cleaned their car's engine? See, that is something that Renos do routinely. I just assumed the world was with us--like doing laudry or washing the dishes.

I'm so warped.