Everyone remembers their first concert. Mine happened on the last day of 8th grade.
The day was perfect, we had a half day of school and it was the start of summer vacation. The weather was amazing and a few friends and I left school to walk to a nearby park before the concert. How I convinced my mom that this was not life threatening was beyond me. I was not even allowed to play in the front yard much less walk several miles unattended. It was a beautiful sunny day so we enjoyed the walk and once reaching the park we decided to sit outside the pool and watch the swimmers for a while. It just so happens that a boy we despised was in the pool area swimming. It also just so happens that I had something interesting with me that day. Finger covers. That's right, I said finger covers. See, my mom was working in a cafeteria at the time and they had these mini circles that you would roll over your finger to cover any cuts you had. Very sanitary. However, these things looked exactly like tiny little condoms. Commence the worst thing I have ever done to demean someone. We called the boy over to the fence like we wanted to talk. Unsuspectingly he walked over. That is when we handed him the miniature condom and told him that we thought it would be "just his size". I cringe just thinking of his face. But.....he totally deserved it.
Laughing hysterically we finally left the park and headed home to pile into the car so we could head out to our first concert. This was the late nineties so we were heading to see the coolest band of the time, No Doubt. It was going to be two friends and me escorted by my mother of course. We arrived at the amphitheater and started our thousand mile journey to the entrance. There really should have been a shuttle service or something. Something else you need to know about me at this time....I had recently discovered the word "fuck" and thought it was the coolest word to say. I used it at school with my friends and tried to fit it in as many times as possible in each sentence. Needless to say, I did not do this once I got home with my mother. That said, we were about 900 miles into our trek having pleasant conversation when it happened. I was so used to saying it around my friends that I completely forgot and loudly used the word in a sentence directed at my mother. Her jaw about dragged the ground as she stared at me like I was an alien instead of her sweet innocent daughter. I quickly picked up my pace and the last 100 miles to the entrance flew by.
We were pretty psyched about this concert because our tickets were in the orchestra pit. We didn't really know what that was but we knew it meant up front. Once we finally made it to our seats we realized that we didn't have seats. We were standing in a big open area right in front of the stage while the rest of the crowd filed into their seating. We were immediately let down realizing that while we would have a good view, we were also going to have to stand for the next several hours. We were pretty bummed about having to stand but still, we could touch the stage! That had to be awesome right?
Wrong. After talking to a few people in the area we quickly realized that this was no ordinary standing area. We had accidentally signed ourselves up for the mosh pit. And the area was getting very crowded. How many people did they think they could fit into this "orchestra" seating. As we started getting cozy with our fellow moshers we noticed a few cute boys our age were also in the area. My friends being much more brave than I actually went up to them and started a conversation! Turns out they were a year older than us and had come to the concert unsupervised. Also, they were super into moshing. Ugh!
As soon as the concert began they started thrashing around and banging into people. But they were the ONLY ones. Everyone else was standing peacefully listening the the music. It's not like we were at a Metallica concert. Even though this was a little weird we continued talking to them throughout the concert. Strangely enough, one of them was talking mainly to me. Boys never talked to me so I was fairly confused. I felt so grown up. I was a high schooler now and boys were talking to me.
The concert itself was not very memorable but when it was over the boy asked for my number. I am surprised I didn't shoot off into space I was so giddy. I didn't even notice the 1000 miles back to the car. This was the first boy to ask me out. Talk about a memorable first concert.
To make a long story shorter, I talked to the boy several times after the concert and we even scheduled a date. But it was not to be and I never saw him again. However......
seven years later I was dating a charming asshole of a guy. Turns out he went to school with the boy I met at the No Doubt concert. What a small world. They were best friends. And the boy...of course.....was now into dudes.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
Goldilocks Goes Car Shopping
Once upon a time there was a girl named Goldilocks who wanted to buy a new car. Ok, so it was me and it was just last weekend but you see where this is heading.
I have been driving a base model '99 Honda Civic for the past eight years. His name was Stivic and we were in love. However, Stivic was getting very old and I couldn't bare to watch him die. He seemed to always be in the shop for some problem or another; first a knocking sound when I made left turns, then a high pitched squeal from the AC, then knocking sounds when I made right turns. The final straw came after a midnight run to Wendy's for some munchies. I rolled down Stivic's window to grab my fries and spicy chicken nuggets and after gleefully grabbing my indulgence I pulled away and stopped to roll up my window. See, Stivic's window has always been a little sticky so it takes both hands to crank the sucker back up. However as I reached for the crank it easily glided around counter-clockwise. However the window did not follow suit. It was broken....and of course it was raining....and only 37 degrees out. After driving the mile back home I was forced to cover the window with a trash bag and hope for the best until morning when I could take it in. Almost $300 later I had a functioning window and a notice that my oil was leaking and all three belts needed to be replaced. Let the car shopping commence....
Over the course of the next week my husband tried discussing with me what cars I could get to replace Stivic. I felt pretty set on the fact that I wanted another Civic but agreed to test drive a few cars he recommended. After doing some searching on AutoTrader we set out on Saturday to spend the day test driving cars.
First stop was a Honda dealership of course. I had found a used Honda Fit that sounded pretty interesting and it was in our price range. I hopped in the driver's seat and took off heading to the highway for a test spin. The car was surprisingly spacious for a hatchback and had quite a pick up and go. I was really digging driving the car around. My favorite feature was the back seats. They fold flat so it was like I was getting a station wagon with the look of an adorable hatchback. Back at the dealership we examined the car a little more. It was silver (acceptable color) but it looked like a used car. I mean, it was a used car....but it looked like it to. Even though it was only a 2010 it looked old. While I would have been upgrading to power windows it didn't have key-less entry and the AC unit looked out of the '90's with the crank dials instead of modern button selections. The price was right but it just wasn't feeling like me.
Next up we headed to yet another Honda dealership because it was on the way to the cars my hubby wanted me to look at. I had found a beautiful blue Civic online that I just had to see even though it was a few thousand over what I was looking to spend. A salesman greeted us before we even got out of the car and after checking out my print out of the car he sent us down the street to the other half of the dealership where the car was. Apparently they are so awesome that they have two locations within a block of each other. Who knew? Once down the street we were informed that the car was indeed back at the first location. Now, this was frustrating. Just as we were about to hop back in the car the salesman started asking about our price range. He then went on to say that they didn't carry any cars for that price and they would never negotiate more than a couple hundred off the sticker price. He said sorry and walked away leaving us with our jaws on the ground. I have never in my life seen a car salesman walk away from a sale with so little effort. It's not like I was looking to pay only a couple grand for a car. We were looking at two to five thousand less than sticker prices. What car dealership doesn't negotiate? I am torn between being happy that he didn't waste my time and pissed that he dismissed me so easily. That left a real sour taste in my mouth and anyone who wants to know the name of the dealership should message me because I am more than happy to bad mouth them.
Finally we were headed to the Hyundai dealership where my husband wanted me to look at the Elantra and the Accent. His thought being that they were good cars and we could possibly get a brand new one for only a little more than our price range and the lower interest rate would make up the difference. After waiting in line to talk to a salesman (really Hyundai, really?) we finally got to speak with the floor manager who was a older gentleman with huge dark circles under his eyes and who reeked of smoke. He pulled around an Accent hatchback in a weird shade of blue for us to test out. This was a brand new car with only 5 miles on it yet when I hit the accelerator to take off I felt like I was back in Stivic. It had no pick up at all. The whole thing felt like a cheap version of the Fit and was actually way more expensive than we first thought. Next up was the Elantraewwww. It smelled horrible inside even though it was a new car and it had this weird black and tan mix interior which I have to say is a deal breaker. I don't care what my husband says, I could not stand looking at that interior every day for the next ten years. After finding out that gray on black was another option I hopped in and took her out on the road. I immediately started to panic a little. I felt like the car was closing in on me and my claustrophobia was in high gear. The window ledge was high, the dashboard was high and the whole thing felt tight. By the time I got back to the dealership I was ready to explode and I jumped out took a deep breathe and stretched trying to relieve my panic. This was definitely a no go. Looks like we were back to Hondas.
By this time it was raining pretty good. We took a look through the rest of the Civics I had printed out from AutoTrader and realized that really only one other fit nicely in our price range. It was a 2007 which was fine but it had 85,000 miles on it. After looking up the CarFax we decided we could at least check it out and see. It was still pouring when we arrived at the Mazda dealership the Civic was at. The salesman pulled the car up for us and we made a mad dash it the rain to hop in. I immediately felt relaxed. Even in the rain it felt open, light, and refreshing to sit in the driver's seat. I quickly realized that this car was pretty loaded. Power everything, key-less entry, cruise control, CD player, and even a moonroof. (What is the difference between a moonroof and a sunroof by the way?). I was pretty psyched as I pulled out of the dealership, I felt like I was flying down the road and every turn was so smooth. I was in love. The only thing still tickling at my brain was those miles. But as I stopped to think, Stivic was five years old when I got him and had around 85,000 miles on him and he lasted me eight years. This beautiful car was also five years old with the same mileage. It was just a newer version of the same car. It was even the same color. I was sold. After some negotiating we finally came to a reasonable price and with my awesome credit (811 Woot Woot!) I was able to get it for 3.43%.
As I left Stivic behind with the salesman I almost teared up a bit. We had so much history together. But I am with Stormy now (get it? He is silver and it was raining when I bought him) and he is just right.
I have been driving a base model '99 Honda Civic for the past eight years. His name was Stivic and we were in love. However, Stivic was getting very old and I couldn't bare to watch him die. He seemed to always be in the shop for some problem or another; first a knocking sound when I made left turns, then a high pitched squeal from the AC, then knocking sounds when I made right turns. The final straw came after a midnight run to Wendy's for some munchies. I rolled down Stivic's window to grab my fries and spicy chicken nuggets and after gleefully grabbing my indulgence I pulled away and stopped to roll up my window. See, Stivic's window has always been a little sticky so it takes both hands to crank the sucker back up. However as I reached for the crank it easily glided around counter-clockwise. However the window did not follow suit. It was broken....and of course it was raining....and only 37 degrees out. After driving the mile back home I was forced to cover the window with a trash bag and hope for the best until morning when I could take it in. Almost $300 later I had a functioning window and a notice that my oil was leaking and all three belts needed to be replaced. Let the car shopping commence....
Over the course of the next week my husband tried discussing with me what cars I could get to replace Stivic. I felt pretty set on the fact that I wanted another Civic but agreed to test drive a few cars he recommended. After doing some searching on AutoTrader we set out on Saturday to spend the day test driving cars.
First stop was a Honda dealership of course. I had found a used Honda Fit that sounded pretty interesting and it was in our price range. I hopped in the driver's seat and took off heading to the highway for a test spin. The car was surprisingly spacious for a hatchback and had quite a pick up and go. I was really digging driving the car around. My favorite feature was the back seats. They fold flat so it was like I was getting a station wagon with the look of an adorable hatchback. Back at the dealership we examined the car a little more. It was silver (acceptable color) but it looked like a used car. I mean, it was a used car....but it looked like it to. Even though it was only a 2010 it looked old. While I would have been upgrading to power windows it didn't have key-less entry and the AC unit looked out of the '90's with the crank dials instead of modern button selections. The price was right but it just wasn't feeling like me.
Next up we headed to yet another Honda dealership because it was on the way to the cars my hubby wanted me to look at. I had found a beautiful blue Civic online that I just had to see even though it was a few thousand over what I was looking to spend. A salesman greeted us before we even got out of the car and after checking out my print out of the car he sent us down the street to the other half of the dealership where the car was. Apparently they are so awesome that they have two locations within a block of each other. Who knew? Once down the street we were informed that the car was indeed back at the first location. Now, this was frustrating. Just as we were about to hop back in the car the salesman started asking about our price range. He then went on to say that they didn't carry any cars for that price and they would never negotiate more than a couple hundred off the sticker price. He said sorry and walked away leaving us with our jaws on the ground. I have never in my life seen a car salesman walk away from a sale with so little effort. It's not like I was looking to pay only a couple grand for a car. We were looking at two to five thousand less than sticker prices. What car dealership doesn't negotiate? I am torn between being happy that he didn't waste my time and pissed that he dismissed me so easily. That left a real sour taste in my mouth and anyone who wants to know the name of the dealership should message me because I am more than happy to bad mouth them.
Finally we were headed to the Hyundai dealership where my husband wanted me to look at the Elantra and the Accent. His thought being that they were good cars and we could possibly get a brand new one for only a little more than our price range and the lower interest rate would make up the difference. After waiting in line to talk to a salesman (really Hyundai, really?) we finally got to speak with the floor manager who was a older gentleman with huge dark circles under his eyes and who reeked of smoke. He pulled around an Accent hatchback in a weird shade of blue for us to test out. This was a brand new car with only 5 miles on it yet when I hit the accelerator to take off I felt like I was back in Stivic. It had no pick up at all. The whole thing felt like a cheap version of the Fit and was actually way more expensive than we first thought. Next up was the Elantraewwww. It smelled horrible inside even though it was a new car and it had this weird black and tan mix interior which I have to say is a deal breaker. I don't care what my husband says, I could not stand looking at that interior every day for the next ten years. After finding out that gray on black was another option I hopped in and took her out on the road. I immediately started to panic a little. I felt like the car was closing in on me and my claustrophobia was in high gear. The window ledge was high, the dashboard was high and the whole thing felt tight. By the time I got back to the dealership I was ready to explode and I jumped out took a deep breathe and stretched trying to relieve my panic. This was definitely a no go. Looks like we were back to Hondas.
By this time it was raining pretty good. We took a look through the rest of the Civics I had printed out from AutoTrader and realized that really only one other fit nicely in our price range. It was a 2007 which was fine but it had 85,000 miles on it. After looking up the CarFax we decided we could at least check it out and see. It was still pouring when we arrived at the Mazda dealership the Civic was at. The salesman pulled the car up for us and we made a mad dash it the rain to hop in. I immediately felt relaxed. Even in the rain it felt open, light, and refreshing to sit in the driver's seat. I quickly realized that this car was pretty loaded. Power everything, key-less entry, cruise control, CD player, and even a moonroof. (What is the difference between a moonroof and a sunroof by the way?). I was pretty psyched as I pulled out of the dealership, I felt like I was flying down the road and every turn was so smooth. I was in love. The only thing still tickling at my brain was those miles. But as I stopped to think, Stivic was five years old when I got him and had around 85,000 miles on him and he lasted me eight years. This beautiful car was also five years old with the same mileage. It was just a newer version of the same car. It was even the same color. I was sold. After some negotiating we finally came to a reasonable price and with my awesome credit (811 Woot Woot!) I was able to get it for 3.43%.
As I left Stivic behind with the salesman I almost teared up a bit. We had so much history together. But I am with Stormy now (get it? He is silver and it was raining when I bought him) and he is just right.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Why I Don't Have Babies
Otherwise know as Babies R Us is the devil.
As usual, everyone around me is pregnant. I was forced to make a trip to Babies R Us this week to purchase gifts for two different prego friends of mine. I assumed I would pop in, print the registries, grab some stuff and head out in ten minutes flat. Little did I know that I would not exit the store until over thirty minutes later with tears in my eyes and bags on my trembling arms. But I am jumping ahead. Let's start at the beginning.....
I happily skipped into the entry of Babies R Us. Ok, so I just walked in normally but I was in a pleasant mood. I headed over to the registry area to print off my two lists. I quickly found the first one and printed it off. Five minutes later I finally found the second registry after trying about ten combinations of first name and last name. I mean really....how many girls with the exact same name are pregnant in the state of Missouri???
I quickly scanned the lists to find an item in my price range that sounded cute. Conveniently the registry even listed what aisle I could find said items in. I was standing right next to aisle 20 which the registry listed as the place where I could find the blanket I was looking for. I quickly walked into the aisle and looked up to realize that the aisle was full of car seats. Only car seats. Nothing else. Clearly this was not where the blanket was to be found. I quickly grabbed an employee that was walking by and asked for help. She grimaced and pointed to my registry. Apparently the tiny star next to the item meant that they had either clearanced the item or they didn't have it in the requested color. She walked about five aisles over an pointed to the spot where the item was. They had it in black instead of the requested brown. She handed it over saying that was pretty much the same thing. Considering everything on this registry was brown, I did not think changing it up for black would be a good idea. I decided to try for my back up item. The girl said that all the bedding items should be in the correct aisles and sent me off to the other end of the store in search of bedding.
This would work out well since the second registry had a lot of bedding items in my price range. Two birds with one stone right??? I quickly made my way to bedding and started searching for my item. This should be easy right? I had the brand name, the price, and the color. Except that everything in the aisle was the same brand. And everything was the same price. And about half the aisle was the requested brown shade. Great. I started scouring tags looking for the exact wording off my registry. After about five trips down the aisle I finally found the blanket. Success!!!!
Now just a quick jaunt over to the next aisle to grab whatever a playard sheet is and I'd be out of there. I stepped into the listed aisle and started scanning the shelf. I quickly realized that everything is this aisle was labeled as a crib sheet. Now I might not know much about babies but I know that crib sheets and playard sheets are probably not the same thing. I continued searching anyway because this is the aisle that the registry listed. I compared every tag in the aisle with my registry definition. Nothing. I scanned the area but there were no employees anywhere. I decided to try out the next few aisles. I mean how hard can it be to find the area with the sheets. I searched up and down every aisle in the bedding section. And then I did it again. My eyes started to well with tears and my frustration level rose. And I still couldn't find an employee to help me! Before full on panic hit I decided to take a break and go grab the requested bag of Pampers I needed for the shower.
Thankfully there was a giant sign labeled "Diapers" off in the distant corner of the store. I made my way over trying to forget about my need to return to bedding to find my gift. I stepped into the diaper aisle and, as luck would have it, Pampers were the first brand of diapers I came to. I started searching for the cheapest bag I could find since I didn't plan on buying the economy sized crate of diapers. I found a small bag but realized it was for preemies and that probably wouldn't do so I moved to the next package over. This bag was labeled "cruisers" which based on the picture I assume means toddlers. And that was it. There were no more bags. The store was completely out of normal sized baby diapers. The baby store was out of diapers!!!! Now I was getting angry.
I finally spotted an employee moving rocking chairs around. He was clearly busy but I didn't care anymore. By the way, why is a guy working at a baby store? Does anyone else find that a little weird? Anyway, I walked over and plainly told the man that I was about to lose it and needed some help. I showed him my registry and asked him to help me find anything that was listed in the bedding section. He said that they playard sheet I was looking for was at the end of the aisle with the car seats. Back where I first started in the store! Then he walked me over to bedding and started pointing out a few other items on my list. None of which were in the aisle listed on the registry. After pointing out several items I told him that was enough and that I wasn't planning on buying out the whole section. I ended up grabbing a crib sheet because at this point I could care less what I was picking up. I still had one stop to make.
I headed over to the the toy aisle in search of a book to go along with my gift. That should be easy. Find the books, grab a small color or shape recognition book and head to the checkout. When I arrived at the books I saw a lot of shelf. There were hardly any books to choose from. I started mumbling curses under my breath as I started sorting through my measly selections. I picked up a book on shapes that looked basic and baby appropriate and flipped it over to see the price. Ten bucks for a four page book with basic shapes printed in it. Seriously? I could buy a full on chick lit novel for that price. Heck, I could buy some cardboard and make my own damn book for about fifty cents. I quickly started flipping books over in search of one that seemed a reasonable price for what the book contained. I finally settled on one that made me giggle, which was quite a feat with the state I was in at this point. For any Friends tv show lovers out there you might remember the episode when Rachel was pregnant and Joey gifted her with a dramatic reading of a story. I had picked up that story. The book is actually really cute so I went with it.
I was finally headed to the register and thankfully there was not a line. I guess everyone else knew better than to shop at this hellhole. I plopped my items down and started digging for my wallet when the chipper clerk asked if I had found everything alright. With a blank stare and tear stained cheeks I responded honesty with "not really". She looked a little alarmed. I guess they don't get that response too often. Being the good employee she was she proceeded to ask if she could help me find something. I responded with "no thanks, I would just like to leave now and never come back". That should send off the message of ring me out and leave me alone right? But what words came out of her mouth next you ask? "Do you have a rewards card with us?" Now I was the one with the shocked expression. Once I picked my jaw off the ground I responded with "Do I look like someone who has kids and shops here often?" But she was having none of it. In her still perky tone she replied "You can use one to buy gifts for friends or family". Well, well, can I now? I replied, "No thanks, I don't plan to come back. If anyone else gets pregnant they are getting condoms as their gift". She finally gave up an proceeded to ring out my purchases. But she couldn't help getting in one last jab by offering me a coupon to use next time. I abandoned the coupon on the counter and stormed out of the store only to realize that I didn't buy a gift bag or any wrapping paper. Since I refused to re-enter the store I resigned myself to just grab some later when I had to shop for Pampers.
I have never been to a Babies R Us before and I don't plan to return even if I do have a baby at some point in life. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a cute baby just as much as the next girl but I am definitely not in any rush to bring one home.
As usual, everyone around me is pregnant. I was forced to make a trip to Babies R Us this week to purchase gifts for two different prego friends of mine. I assumed I would pop in, print the registries, grab some stuff and head out in ten minutes flat. Little did I know that I would not exit the store until over thirty minutes later with tears in my eyes and bags on my trembling arms. But I am jumping ahead. Let's start at the beginning.....
I happily skipped into the entry of Babies R Us. Ok, so I just walked in normally but I was in a pleasant mood. I headed over to the registry area to print off my two lists. I quickly found the first one and printed it off. Five minutes later I finally found the second registry after trying about ten combinations of first name and last name. I mean really....how many girls with the exact same name are pregnant in the state of Missouri???
I quickly scanned the lists to find an item in my price range that sounded cute. Conveniently the registry even listed what aisle I could find said items in. I was standing right next to aisle 20 which the registry listed as the place where I could find the blanket I was looking for. I quickly walked into the aisle and looked up to realize that the aisle was full of car seats. Only car seats. Nothing else. Clearly this was not where the blanket was to be found. I quickly grabbed an employee that was walking by and asked for help. She grimaced and pointed to my registry. Apparently the tiny star next to the item meant that they had either clearanced the item or they didn't have it in the requested color. She walked about five aisles over an pointed to the spot where the item was. They had it in black instead of the requested brown. She handed it over saying that was pretty much the same thing. Considering everything on this registry was brown, I did not think changing it up for black would be a good idea. I decided to try for my back up item. The girl said that all the bedding items should be in the correct aisles and sent me off to the other end of the store in search of bedding.
This would work out well since the second registry had a lot of bedding items in my price range. Two birds with one stone right??? I quickly made my way to bedding and started searching for my item. This should be easy right? I had the brand name, the price, and the color. Except that everything in the aisle was the same brand. And everything was the same price. And about half the aisle was the requested brown shade. Great. I started scouring tags looking for the exact wording off my registry. After about five trips down the aisle I finally found the blanket. Success!!!!
Now just a quick jaunt over to the next aisle to grab whatever a playard sheet is and I'd be out of there. I stepped into the listed aisle and started scanning the shelf. I quickly realized that everything is this aisle was labeled as a crib sheet. Now I might not know much about babies but I know that crib sheets and playard sheets are probably not the same thing. I continued searching anyway because this is the aisle that the registry listed. I compared every tag in the aisle with my registry definition. Nothing. I scanned the area but there were no employees anywhere. I decided to try out the next few aisles. I mean how hard can it be to find the area with the sheets. I searched up and down every aisle in the bedding section. And then I did it again. My eyes started to well with tears and my frustration level rose. And I still couldn't find an employee to help me! Before full on panic hit I decided to take a break and go grab the requested bag of Pampers I needed for the shower.
Thankfully there was a giant sign labeled "Diapers" off in the distant corner of the store. I made my way over trying to forget about my need to return to bedding to find my gift. I stepped into the diaper aisle and, as luck would have it, Pampers were the first brand of diapers I came to. I started searching for the cheapest bag I could find since I didn't plan on buying the economy sized crate of diapers. I found a small bag but realized it was for preemies and that probably wouldn't do so I moved to the next package over. This bag was labeled "cruisers" which based on the picture I assume means toddlers. And that was it. There were no more bags. The store was completely out of normal sized baby diapers. The baby store was out of diapers!!!! Now I was getting angry.
I finally spotted an employee moving rocking chairs around. He was clearly busy but I didn't care anymore. By the way, why is a guy working at a baby store? Does anyone else find that a little weird? Anyway, I walked over and plainly told the man that I was about to lose it and needed some help. I showed him my registry and asked him to help me find anything that was listed in the bedding section. He said that they playard sheet I was looking for was at the end of the aisle with the car seats. Back where I first started in the store! Then he walked me over to bedding and started pointing out a few other items on my list. None of which were in the aisle listed on the registry. After pointing out several items I told him that was enough and that I wasn't planning on buying out the whole section. I ended up grabbing a crib sheet because at this point I could care less what I was picking up. I still had one stop to make.
I headed over to the the toy aisle in search of a book to go along with my gift. That should be easy. Find the books, grab a small color or shape recognition book and head to the checkout. When I arrived at the books I saw a lot of shelf. There were hardly any books to choose from. I started mumbling curses under my breath as I started sorting through my measly selections. I picked up a book on shapes that looked basic and baby appropriate and flipped it over to see the price. Ten bucks for a four page book with basic shapes printed in it. Seriously? I could buy a full on chick lit novel for that price. Heck, I could buy some cardboard and make my own damn book for about fifty cents. I quickly started flipping books over in search of one that seemed a reasonable price for what the book contained. I finally settled on one that made me giggle, which was quite a feat with the state I was in at this point. For any Friends tv show lovers out there you might remember the episode when Rachel was pregnant and Joey gifted her with a dramatic reading of a story. I had picked up that story. The book is actually really cute so I went with it.
I was finally headed to the register and thankfully there was not a line. I guess everyone else knew better than to shop at this hellhole. I plopped my items down and started digging for my wallet when the chipper clerk asked if I had found everything alright. With a blank stare and tear stained cheeks I responded honesty with "not really". She looked a little alarmed. I guess they don't get that response too often. Being the good employee she was she proceeded to ask if she could help me find something. I responded with "no thanks, I would just like to leave now and never come back". That should send off the message of ring me out and leave me alone right? But what words came out of her mouth next you ask? "Do you have a rewards card with us?" Now I was the one with the shocked expression. Once I picked my jaw off the ground I responded with "Do I look like someone who has kids and shops here often?" But she was having none of it. In her still perky tone she replied "You can use one to buy gifts for friends or family". Well, well, can I now? I replied, "No thanks, I don't plan to come back. If anyone else gets pregnant they are getting condoms as their gift". She finally gave up an proceeded to ring out my purchases. But she couldn't help getting in one last jab by offering me a coupon to use next time. I abandoned the coupon on the counter and stormed out of the store only to realize that I didn't buy a gift bag or any wrapping paper. Since I refused to re-enter the store I resigned myself to just grab some later when I had to shop for Pampers.
I have never been to a Babies R Us before and I don't plan to return even if I do have a baby at some point in life. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a cute baby just as much as the next girl but I am definitely not in any rush to bring one home.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Never Going Home Again
I don't travel often but when I do I seem to have the same problem each time. I can never seem to get home. Something always happens to delay my return.
Those who know me know that my personality is pretty quirky and my mood shift sudden. I love vacations and I enjoy going on trips but when I am scheduled to go home, I want to go home. I want to get there as soon as possible and not delay the end to my trip. My curse however will prevent that, the Gods punishing me by throwing everything at me to prevent me from coming home.
Sometimes the challenges are simple. On the way home from a girls weekend someone remembers they left a phone charger at the hotel causing a 40 minute driving excursion back to the hotel. Driving home from Branson my friends decided it would be a fun idea to take an hour long break at Bass Pro. Who stops at Bass Pro during a four hour drive? Really? Driving back from Chicago we drove down every road in Illinois that was under construction as though someone planned our route based on the construction.
Other challenges are more frustrating. On the way back from Vegas with my mom we were informed that the plane we were on was broken and that we were delayed until they found another plane for us. Having spent a solid week with my mother this is not what I was wanting to hear. I had enjoyed my trip but I was ready to go home. I lost it. I started bawling my eyes out in the middle of the Vegas airport. The clerk gazed at me amazed that a grown woman was crying about a delay. To this day my mom references this experience as the most embarrassing thing I have every done to her. I just couldn't contain myself. That hour long delay threw off my entire plan for getting home and that was not to be tolerated. But that was not even close to my worst travel experience.
The worst challenge was more of a duel. To this day I insist that someone was out to get me. I made it home that day but the ridiculousness that ensued was traumatizing. I had just spent a week in California with my mother, a friend from school, and her mother. I would never speak to this friend again after this trip. The trip itself if another story but lets just say that I desperately wanted to get home and away from these people. This was by far the worst vacation that I have ever taken. We arrived at John Wayne Airport in California and were informed that there would be a delay in our flight. It would be a few hours at least. We were scheduled to have a layover in Arizona and the president had conveniently decided to fly there himself causing the entire airport to shut down. Our flight would be delayed until the president had landed and vacated the area. Great! We settled into the uncomfortable airport waiting area seats and proceeded to glare at each other for what seemed like hours. That is when we got our second bit of news. Our flight to Arizona was canceled completely. A monsoon had struck and the Arizona airport was closed. Yes, a monsoon! Since when do monsoons hit Arizona? Still think no one was out to get me? It gets better.
The airline was very apologetic and offered to put us up in a hotel overnight if we would wait to fly out the next day. Everyone was scrambling to get flights and they were desperately trying to get rid of some of us. But I was having none of it. I wanted to go home and I wanted to go right that second. After a lot of checking and cross checking the clerk with the airline found a flight for us through Colorado with another airline. The problem....the flight was leaving out of LAX....in less that an hour. They immediately shoved us into the back of a cab with our luggage and told the cabbie to book it to LAX through L.A. traffic. I have never been so terrified in my life. I have also never made it from Anaheim to L.A. in 30 minutes before. The cabbie screeched to a halt in front of LAX and we ran with our luggage shoving past people waiting in line. Thankfully we got to cut right to the front, check in and make our run for the gate before the flight took off. We barely made it and were on our way to home. Finally!
I just planned my anniversary trip for this year. We are approaching five years so we planned a big trip to Michigan to celebrate. We are making the eight hour drive ourselves and I am already anticipating the adventures that await attempting to drive home.
Those who know me know that my personality is pretty quirky and my mood shift sudden. I love vacations and I enjoy going on trips but when I am scheduled to go home, I want to go home. I want to get there as soon as possible and not delay the end to my trip. My curse however will prevent that, the Gods punishing me by throwing everything at me to prevent me from coming home.
Sometimes the challenges are simple. On the way home from a girls weekend someone remembers they left a phone charger at the hotel causing a 40 minute driving excursion back to the hotel. Driving home from Branson my friends decided it would be a fun idea to take an hour long break at Bass Pro. Who stops at Bass Pro during a four hour drive? Really? Driving back from Chicago we drove down every road in Illinois that was under construction as though someone planned our route based on the construction.
Other challenges are more frustrating. On the way back from Vegas with my mom we were informed that the plane we were on was broken and that we were delayed until they found another plane for us. Having spent a solid week with my mother this is not what I was wanting to hear. I had enjoyed my trip but I was ready to go home. I lost it. I started bawling my eyes out in the middle of the Vegas airport. The clerk gazed at me amazed that a grown woman was crying about a delay. To this day my mom references this experience as the most embarrassing thing I have every done to her. I just couldn't contain myself. That hour long delay threw off my entire plan for getting home and that was not to be tolerated. But that was not even close to my worst travel experience.
The worst challenge was more of a duel. To this day I insist that someone was out to get me. I made it home that day but the ridiculousness that ensued was traumatizing. I had just spent a week in California with my mother, a friend from school, and her mother. I would never speak to this friend again after this trip. The trip itself if another story but lets just say that I desperately wanted to get home and away from these people. This was by far the worst vacation that I have ever taken. We arrived at John Wayne Airport in California and were informed that there would be a delay in our flight. It would be a few hours at least. We were scheduled to have a layover in Arizona and the president had conveniently decided to fly there himself causing the entire airport to shut down. Our flight would be delayed until the president had landed and vacated the area. Great! We settled into the uncomfortable airport waiting area seats and proceeded to glare at each other for what seemed like hours. That is when we got our second bit of news. Our flight to Arizona was canceled completely. A monsoon had struck and the Arizona airport was closed. Yes, a monsoon! Since when do monsoons hit Arizona? Still think no one was out to get me? It gets better.
The airline was very apologetic and offered to put us up in a hotel overnight if we would wait to fly out the next day. Everyone was scrambling to get flights and they were desperately trying to get rid of some of us. But I was having none of it. I wanted to go home and I wanted to go right that second. After a lot of checking and cross checking the clerk with the airline found a flight for us through Colorado with another airline. The problem....the flight was leaving out of LAX....in less that an hour. They immediately shoved us into the back of a cab with our luggage and told the cabbie to book it to LAX through L.A. traffic. I have never been so terrified in my life. I have also never made it from Anaheim to L.A. in 30 minutes before. The cabbie screeched to a halt in front of LAX and we ran with our luggage shoving past people waiting in line. Thankfully we got to cut right to the front, check in and make our run for the gate before the flight took off. We barely made it and were on our way to home. Finally!
I just planned my anniversary trip for this year. We are approaching five years so we planned a big trip to Michigan to celebrate. We are making the eight hour drive ourselves and I am already anticipating the adventures that await attempting to drive home.
Friday, February 3, 2012
The Scar
Like most people, I have scars. I have a lot of scars. I have a chicken pox scar on my cheek. I have a burn scar from an oven on my arm. I even have a scar on my forehead where I hit it while playing as a toddler. But my worst scar by far is on my leg and it appeared less than a year ago.
I love my dog a lot but she has caused me a lot of scars in her three short years. Picture a beautiful spring day in April. I thought it would be a lovely day to take Weezy out in the backyard for a quick game of fetch before I left to meet some friends. We went through our routine and she settled down excitedly at the back door to wait for me to put on her collar with a lead attached. Since we don't have a fenced in back yard we have a long wire cable lead that we attach her to so that she can freely wander around the yard without be able to chase down passersby in the street. I attached the collar and opened the door. Weezy eagerly ran outside and grabbed her ball and brought it to me. After a short struggle to get her to release the ball ("drop it" is not quite in her vocabulary yet) I tossed it around a few times and she galloped off full speed to fetch. Being the chunky pooch she is, she tuckered out after about three tosses and plopped down in the yard to bask in the sun and possibly roll around in some poop.
I had some time left so I wandered over to my garden to check on the progress of my blossoming tomatoes and other veggies. Not able to be away from my side for even a second, Weezy immediately jumped up to come investigate why I had disappeared around the corner of the house. We both admired the garden for a while when I realized that I needed to get a move on and go meet my friends. I told Weezy it was time to go inside and she turned to run back to the door.
And that's when it happened.....
I saw everything in slow motion. Weezy took off for the door, ears flapping in the wind. I looked down and realized that her lead was wrapped around my legs. I screamed for her to stop as I tried to disentangle myself. In the hour it took for her to slow motion run away and for me to scream I managed to free my left leg. But she had built up too much momentum and I knew what was going to happen. I was trying to lift my right leg out of the lead when the tension caught and the lead tightened on my leg and slide across my skin. I managed to stay on my feet and Weezy came running back to see why I had screamed.
I limped into the house to survey my leg and try to squelch the burning pain. My leg was bright red with what looked like a rope burn wrapping almost all around my leg. The cord had cut so deep I was worried I might need stitches. I cleaned myself up and poored a bottle of peroxide over my leg and headed out to meet my friends.
This was probably the worse injury I have ever had which makes me feel lucky. I was left limping for weeks and couldn't wear any pants that came down past my calves. My doctor ordered a dopplar exam to make sure the injury hadn't caused any blood clots (thanks for the $500 bill doc).
Eventually the wound healed but I have been left with a nice scar wrapping around my leg as memory. I don't blame Weezy but I make damn sure to stay out of her lead whenever I am outside.
I love my dog a lot but she has caused me a lot of scars in her three short years. Picture a beautiful spring day in April. I thought it would be a lovely day to take Weezy out in the backyard for a quick game of fetch before I left to meet some friends. We went through our routine and she settled down excitedly at the back door to wait for me to put on her collar with a lead attached. Since we don't have a fenced in back yard we have a long wire cable lead that we attach her to so that she can freely wander around the yard without be able to chase down passersby in the street. I attached the collar and opened the door. Weezy eagerly ran outside and grabbed her ball and brought it to me. After a short struggle to get her to release the ball ("drop it" is not quite in her vocabulary yet) I tossed it around a few times and she galloped off full speed to fetch. Being the chunky pooch she is, she tuckered out after about three tosses and plopped down in the yard to bask in the sun and possibly roll around in some poop.
I had some time left so I wandered over to my garden to check on the progress of my blossoming tomatoes and other veggies. Not able to be away from my side for even a second, Weezy immediately jumped up to come investigate why I had disappeared around the corner of the house. We both admired the garden for a while when I realized that I needed to get a move on and go meet my friends. I told Weezy it was time to go inside and she turned to run back to the door.
And that's when it happened.....
I saw everything in slow motion. Weezy took off for the door, ears flapping in the wind. I looked down and realized that her lead was wrapped around my legs. I screamed for her to stop as I tried to disentangle myself. In the hour it took for her to slow motion run away and for me to scream I managed to free my left leg. But she had built up too much momentum and I knew what was going to happen. I was trying to lift my right leg out of the lead when the tension caught and the lead tightened on my leg and slide across my skin. I managed to stay on my feet and Weezy came running back to see why I had screamed.
I limped into the house to survey my leg and try to squelch the burning pain. My leg was bright red with what looked like a rope burn wrapping almost all around my leg. The cord had cut so deep I was worried I might need stitches. I cleaned myself up and poored a bottle of peroxide over my leg and headed out to meet my friends.
This was probably the worse injury I have ever had which makes me feel lucky. I was left limping for weeks and couldn't wear any pants that came down past my calves. My doctor ordered a dopplar exam to make sure the injury hadn't caused any blood clots (thanks for the $500 bill doc).
Eventually the wound healed but I have been left with a nice scar wrapping around my leg as memory. I don't blame Weezy but I make damn sure to stay out of her lead whenever I am outside.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Why did the chicken cross the street?
Now I am not about to start telling really old jokes. This is a serious question and I need some answers. So let's begin.
Picture this if you will....a beautiful morning in October with the sun shining brightly. My husband and I are at the house being lazy as we had just returned from the gym. My loving dog is at our feet happily wagging her tail when she decides that she has to "use the restroom". She trots her happy ass over to the back door and rings her bell signaling us to her need for some personal time. Yes, my dog rings a bell. I know you're jealous. But lets skip ahead a smidge.
Weezy has been outside all of thirty seconds when we hear her whining. Now, if you know anything about Weezy then you know she is terrified. Terrified of everything! So, I assume she has been paralyzed in fear and is whining because a stray leaf looked at her funny. However, when we look out the window, lo and behold......a chicken.
There was a freakin' chicken in our back yard! My husband immediately tossed on his shoes to run outside and stop what he thought would be a feather flying massacre of an innocent animal. However, when he got outside Weezy was still frozen in her spot about to poop herself she was so terrified. The chicken however, was feeling pretty "cock"y (see what I just did there?) so it proceeded to start running around the yard.
As you can imagine, we now have a comedy routine playing out in our backyard. Weezy was cautiously following my husband as he proceeded to chase the chicken around the yard while Yakety Sax played in the background. Ok, so it was only playing in my head but you get the point.
Finally, he was able to catch the chicken. He proceeded to bring it towards me because he thought I "would want to pet it". Ummmm.....no thanks dear. I quickly shooed him off to return the chicken to where we hoped it came from (across the street of course).
Picture this if you will....a beautiful morning in October with the sun shining brightly. My husband and I are at the house being lazy as we had just returned from the gym. My loving dog is at our feet happily wagging her tail when she decides that she has to "use the restroom". She trots her happy ass over to the back door and rings her bell signaling us to her need for some personal time. Yes, my dog rings a bell. I know you're jealous. But lets skip ahead a smidge.
Weezy has been outside all of thirty seconds when we hear her whining. Now, if you know anything about Weezy then you know she is terrified. Terrified of everything! So, I assume she has been paralyzed in fear and is whining because a stray leaf looked at her funny. However, when we look out the window, lo and behold......a chicken.
There was a freakin' chicken in our back yard! My husband immediately tossed on his shoes to run outside and stop what he thought would be a feather flying massacre of an innocent animal. However, when he got outside Weezy was still frozen in her spot about to poop herself she was so terrified. The chicken however, was feeling pretty "cock"y (see what I just did there?) so it proceeded to start running around the yard.
As you can imagine, we now have a comedy routine playing out in our backyard. Weezy was cautiously following my husband as he proceeded to chase the chicken around the yard while Yakety Sax played in the background. Ok, so it was only playing in my head but you get the point.
Finally, he was able to catch the chicken. He proceeded to bring it towards me because he thought I "would want to pet it". Ummmm.....no thanks dear. I quickly shooed him off to return the chicken to where we hoped it came from (across the street of course).
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Remembering
Well, I know it has been a while without my witty comments but I have no humor today. I am writing as a record to help remember in case I start to forget as we always do.
My grandmother passed away yesterday. I can't say I've been sitting around all day reminicing because the truth is I wasn't very close to her. However, the memories I have should be cherished so I wanted to record them before they are forgotten.
So this is it, my list of memories, good and bad
I remember....
a tube of lipstick that smelled like flowers
fake pearls made of plastic that kids play with, the kind where the individual beads pop apart with a snap
the old cupboard that smelled like gingerbread and woods
Dr. Seuss books, it seemed like hundreds of them
gift wrapping at the mall
purple hair
cross stitched kittens in a purple frame (my favorite color as a child)
photo calendars with horrible pictures of me
copper colored baking molds hanging on the wall
magnets from around the world
making chocolate lollipops for my uncle's wedding
the circus, beauty and the beast on ice, and some horrible ice show about a train
seven useless Hannukah presents like plastic clappers, pencils, and chocolate coins
plastic protected leg rests on the couch
wood paneling
not driving on highways
matzo ball soup with noodles
an automatic trash can
a cruise to mexico
I know my list is short for 28 years of memories but it contains everything important.
My grandmother passed away yesterday. I can't say I've been sitting around all day reminicing because the truth is I wasn't very close to her. However, the memories I have should be cherished so I wanted to record them before they are forgotten.
So this is it, my list of memories, good and bad
I remember....
a tube of lipstick that smelled like flowers
fake pearls made of plastic that kids play with, the kind where the individual beads pop apart with a snap
the old cupboard that smelled like gingerbread and woods
Dr. Seuss books, it seemed like hundreds of them
gift wrapping at the mall
purple hair
cross stitched kittens in a purple frame (my favorite color as a child)
photo calendars with horrible pictures of me
copper colored baking molds hanging on the wall
magnets from around the world
making chocolate lollipops for my uncle's wedding
the circus, beauty and the beast on ice, and some horrible ice show about a train
seven useless Hannukah presents like plastic clappers, pencils, and chocolate coins
plastic protected leg rests on the couch
wood paneling
not driving on highways
matzo ball soup with noodles
an automatic trash can
a cruise to mexico
I know my list is short for 28 years of memories but it contains everything important.
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