Work Blur

Thank you everyone for your supportive comments. I was kind of bummed out the other day, and I will probably have days like that for a while. But right now, I'm good.

Not to change the subject, but work is totally bonkers right now. Oh, who am I kidding? Work has been bonkers since I took this job back in February! That's why my blogging and blog reading has dwindled to almost nothing. My department is so incredibly understaffed, it is not even funny. You could double it and we probably still wouldn't get everything done. Now that fall quarter has begun (the college where I work is on a quarter schedule, rather than semesters -- yes, it's weird), it is beyond busy. Fall is our busiest time of the year, hands down. Just to give you an idea of what my days are like, let me tell you about last Monday. Please keep in mind that I am not complaining. I really love my job. I am just trying to illustrate to you how insane and demanding my job is. Ok, so about last Monday...

I sent or returned emails. All day. I am not kidding. That's what I did for 8 hours. Which means I didn't get anything else done. I have not worked fewer than 45 hours per week since August. I am probably closer to 50 hours per week. The only reason it is not 60 is because by 6pm I am too mentally exhausted to do anything productive. Here is a basic breakdown of an average day for me:

8am -- teach a class of students how to use the library. This involved about 1.5 hours of prep time the day before, btw.
10:30 am -- the class is over and so I don't have a ton of students asking me for help after I just showed them stuff. Time for breakfast at my desk while I check my email. I don't finish reading email because my staff has a bunch of questions for me. Now I have to send out a couple of emails or help them with something to get to the bottom of their concerns/questions.
11am -- I have to sit at the reference desk to answer questions from students who come into the library. Usually, I get to learn something cool in the process, like the history of a font or a theoretical interpretation of a painting. Yesterday, I learned there is a difference between an interior decorator and an interior designer. Who knew?
12pm -- Lunch! I am starved! I go to lunch after following up on a couple more things, answering more questions from my staff or coworkers, jotting "don't forget!" notes on my to-do list and talking to a faculty member who stopped by for a quick chat about their student's assignment and a couple of books they want us to buy.
12:40pm -- I actually sit down to eat my lunch.
1pm -- back on the reference desk to answer more questions and learn more stuff. Manage to check my email and finally return the emails from the last 24 hours.
3pm -- I am off the desk and back in my office to prep for the next day. More follow-ups. I spend about 15 minutes looking for my to-do list and another 15 minutes trying to figure out what to prioritize first. Tell myself I need to get organized better next time. Interrupted by coworker/staff member/student/faculty member. Have a panicky moment when I realize I forgot to do something kind of important. Drop everything to put out that fire. Make a bunch of photocopies for a class I am teaching later in the week. Run out of time to select some books for the library to buy, which I am supposed to be doing on a continual basis. Oops.
4pm -- meeting with someone about something. Could be a student working on an assignment, could be my boss wanting updates and could be my staff who are trying to learn the ropes of their new job or a faculty member who wants to talk to me about something. Or possibly Brett Favre. Who knows. I have probably met with Obama and I dont' even realize it because I am totally scatterbrained.
5pm -- YES! Time to go home! Oh wait. No. I can't. Gotta return this email, ask my coworker about this thing, take these books upstairs, look up some images for a professor, figure out what I am going to show the class I am teaching in the morning...
6pm -- ok, NOW I am going home. Yes. I think it is ok now. I don't feel panicky. My email has quieted down for the night and I honestly cannot think of anything super important that needs to be done before I go to bed.
7:30pm -- I pass out on the couch while I watch Jeopardy. No joke.
10:15pm -- I lie awake in my bed, thinking about work. Cannot...shut...off...brain....zzzzzzzzz

And that is just a normal day. Not even the craziest day. The crazy days are when 2 people call in and I have to cover some of their duties, or I have 3 classes to teach instead of one, or my boss has an emergency task she needs my help with NOW. That's when stuff really gets nuts.

Coming up soon on a Monday morning, I have 4 classes to teach. Before lunch. It will go like this:
8am -- arrive at Liberal Arts building to teach English class.
9:30am -- run across the hall to teach the next one.
11am -- go back to original room to teach next section of the same English course.
12:30 -- run back to the other room again to teach next section of that class.
2pm -- get to work to do all the stuff I normally do. Probably eat lunch at my desk.

The day after it? The same thing.

This job is going to be the death of me. I wish I was a superhero. I need to plan something super fun to do for when classes are over. I deserve a massage, or a vacation or a shopping spree. Something.

Oh, so the whole point of this blog. Almost forgot. (See? I am so overloaded, I cannot even remember simple things!) My boss pulls me into her office the other day. She told me I got a small raise (YAY) and that she is very happy with my work so far. She loves me. But perhaps a little too much: She then explains to me that she is thinking about making me Head of Public Services, which would essentially double my workload, because I would be in charge of 2 departments -- the two busiest in the building. I would be in charge of my department --Reference (answering questions at the front desk), Instruction, Circulation (all the checking in/out of books, holds, reserves, Interlibrary Loan, fines, etc.) and most of the Collection Development (ie, book selection). She is thinking about doing this because the manager of the Circulation department has been flaking out at work lately, and she implied that she is going to demote him and put him under me as another Reference Librarian. Which would kind of be a godsend -- I really need an extra pair of hands. But then I would be in charge of several other people I am not currently in charge of. My boss said I would be compensated ($!) for all of this extra work load, and I am really proud of myself for proving how valuable I am as an employee, but HOLY COW IS SHE HIGH??! I can barely keep my head above water now! And she wants me to pile even more heaps of responsibility on my plate??? I would love to say I would be excited for this HUGE promotion, but to be honest, I am worried I would not be able to handle it all.

She hasn't decided anything definite yet, but she will by the end of the month. The thing that is really weird is that this guy who has been flaking out is a really nice guy who everyone likes and who we all hang out with socially. I just hope it doesn't get awkward if it does happen. Oh, and did I mention that he's cute? Yeah. He is. Just to make it that much more interesting.

My boss had better be talking about a LOT of money.

Nightmare

Last night, I had what was one of the worst dreams of my life. I've had dreams where my parents die or where my dad was cheating on my mom. I've had dreams where my friends and family are upset, or that someone is harassing me. But last night, my dream played out more like a horror movie than a personal drama. It really freaked me out!!

MJ and I were trying to get to Philly to meet up with The Rat Pack. (This is the same group of 4 guys we hung out with on last year's NYC/Vermont trip. And we are trying to plan a trip to Philly next month, since two of The Rat Pack members live in Philly. So I'm assuming this is what my subconscious was thinking about when I had this dream.)

In the dream, for some reason, MJ and I didn't have access to our credit cards. We were stuck with just whatever cash we had on us. And it made more financial sense for us to take a Greyhound bus to Philly, rather than drive in MJ's car. So we got on the bus, where we were joined by KT and a couple members of The Rat Pack. (This makes no sense, because MJ and I are the only ones who do not live in New England, but what do you expect? This is a dream, after all.)

By the time the bus stops, we are exhausted. I don't know where we are, but it is a city of some kind. We don't go to a hotel. Instead, we go to a boarding house because it was cheaper. (Do boarding houses even exist anymore??) It may have been a hostel....I can't remember. We are still limited to whatever cash we have, at this point, so I think we were looking for somewhere to crash so we could figure out how to get to Philly the next day.

This hostel/boarding house was an old, early 20th century home. It was a late Victorian style, so it had a big front porch, huge front staircase, wide hallways, tall ceilings, big windows and large rooms. The boarding house was owned and operated by an elderly couple who creeped me out. Of course, even more disturbing, no one else thought they were creepy.

So we are all so broke that we can only afford to rent one very large bedroom upstairs. There are at least 5 of us. We take our suitcases up the big, main staircase to go find our room. I notice that the wallpaper in the house looks to be original, because it is water-damaged, faded and peeling. In fact, everything in the house looked original, from the carpet to the furniture to the doorknobs. Everything was a sort of beige or rose color. With dark wood paneling. It was kind of creepy. And quiet. Very, very quiet.

At the top of the staircase, there is a big hallway. Our room is at the end of the hall. Here's the really creepy part: on the floor of the hallway, in front of each closed bedroom door, there was a baby doll head. Each one had a different facial expression, and they all faced the door nearest to them. Some dolls were smiling, others were angry or terrified. They were all creepy. I mean, someone had obviously ripped the heads off of baby dolls and set them down like this in the hallway! And who's ever heard of a baby doll with angry or scared facial expressions???! I told my friends this place was creepy and I didn't want to stay. They thought I was nuts.

Again, I am the only person who seemed to have a problem with the creepiness. Great.

Our room had several beds, and everyone was so tired that they went to bed immediately. They didn't brush their teeth or even get into pajamas. They just crashed. Meanwhile, I cannot sleep for shit because I'm still thinking about the creepy baby heads in the hallway.

To make it even spookier, we are the only tenants in the place. It's eerily quiet and empty. Just us and the baby doll heads.

When we paid for our room, I had noticed there was a sign by the desk saying that meals were served at certain times. So I decided that I would go back down to the desk to see if it was time to eat yet. I couldn't bear to be near those baby heads anymore. I woke up my friend to tell him where I was going, tip-toed down the hallway, trying not to touch the baby doll heads (which moved on their own to turn and look at me with their varying facial expressions as I passed by!!!).

I made my way to the front desk downstairs, and asked if dinner was served yet. The wife told me that there was still an hour before it would be served. So I decided to make my way back upstairs to try and get my friends to leave this creepy place.

Then, something-- I can't remember what, maybe it was a little voice in my head-- tells me what is going on: the husband and wife who run the place are actually serial killers who are trying to make us their next victims!!!! I am totally freaked out by this realization, obviously. Then the little voice in my head tells me that depending on the expression of your room's baby doll head, you will know if the elderly couple likes you enough to let you live.

Yeah. At this point, even my dream self is like, "Dude, this is f**ked up. Get the hell outta here!!"

So now I need to know which expression our room's baby doll head has. I am back upstairs, walking slowly down the hallway. I know which rooms have dead bodies in them, because the baby doll heads have angry or scared looks on their faces. And of course, the baby doll heads are watching me again. Which is just freaking fantastic.

Sure enough, our room now has its own baby doll head. It had appeared while I had been downstairs!!! I didn't look at its expression -- at this point, I didn't care. We were all checking out right now, no questions asked. I wake everyone up and freak them out enough (I believe I was crying and screaming) to convince them that we need to leave -- NOW. I think they only agreed so that I would shut up and they could finally get some sleep!

We pack up all our stuff and head back down the main staircase. As we are waiting at the bottom of the stairs to check out (why we are taking the time to do this, I don't know), the old man flies down the stairs, holding a knife (or maybe it was a gun?) , trying to stop us from leaving, even if it means he has to kill us!!! We all scream and try to escape. The next thing I know, a large piece of wood falls off of the upstairs banister and impales the old man before he can hurt us! WHAM! It goes right through his torso, killing him instantly.

We must have either ignored or fought off the old lady, because I remember she was protesting our escape, too. We ran out of the house and down the street. That's when I realized we had been in Philly the whole time.

Ugh. No more Jersey Mike's before bedtime.

Tales from the Clinique Counter

To pay off my gi-normous credit card debt, I am going to get a part time job.

Yesterday, as CN and I were running some errands, I decided to stop by the department store at the mall to see if there were any openings at the Clinique counter. When I was in grad school, I used to be a Clinique girl, and it wasn't too bad, as far as part time jobs are concerned.

Pros:
*tons of free makeup and perfume -- TONS
*you don't come home smelling like food
*if you are going out afterwards, it's easy to touch up your makeup before you go
*since the mall closes at 9, it's still early enough to meet up with friends afterwards
*you won't get blisters on your feet, cuts on your fingers, or mysterious goo on your body (can you tell I waited tables for a looooonnng time??)
* if you are on the clock, you are getting paid

Cons:
*you work 3 weekends a month
*you have to deal with the public
*you are not paid in cash
*department store managers tend to be...not the best bosses I've had in my life (more on this later)
*you will never make more than your base pay while you are on the clock (I am expecting to make $10/hour)

So I walked up to the lady at the Clinique counter (who may or may not technically be a midget, btw, as unusual as that sounds) and asked her about it. She seemed really excited about my inquiry and called over the head Clinique girl. She was even MORE excited than the almost-midget lady.

It turns out that they needed a PT person. And since I am already experienced in Clinique AND a former employee of the same chain of department stores, they all but guaranteed me the spot. I'm probably still in their system, actually, which will cut down on all that new employee paperwork! WOOT!

If I work 15 hours per week, I should make $600/month (before taxes). This will help out SO MUCH, considering I'm already putting about $300/month towards my credit card debt already. Yay!

And although I'm excited about the free makeup, I am dreading the downside: working with the public. Don't get me wrong -- the vast majority of people who come in are great. They are nice, easy to deal with and well-groomed. (See where I am going with this?)

But some of the people....well, I think some Tales from the Clinique Counter can explain this well:

1. One day, a totally drunk lady was roaming around the makeup area. On a Sunday. At noon. She was so plastered, I think the store called the police to have her escorted out. But that was after she verbally harassed half the cosmetics staff. And knocked over a bunch of stuff.

2. Some people who want makeovers surprise me, because they are kind of putting the carriage before the horse. Let's see. How do I put this? Um, if your unibrow weighs 4 pounds, or if you have acne that makes a pizza look like a clear complexion, or if you have a hairy chest*, you should deal with those issues before getting a makeover. Same can be said for body odor, chin hair and missing teeth (hey, I live in SC, remember). I know I sound snooty right now, but seriously, would YOU want to put makeup on a woman's hairy chest?? (Yeah, she wanted to see if we could "cover it up". It's like, "No, lady! We can't!") It's so crazy to me that these women will look in the mirror and think, "Yes, that's what I need. A new lipstick." WTF?!

3. Then there are the people who try to take advantage of the generous return policy. One girl came in 10 minutes before closing (WHY do these people always come in right before closing??) with a huge bag of stuff. I think it was over $200 worth of Clinique stuff. She wanted to return everything. Normally, this is no problem at all. But this girl was returning EMPTY containers she had originally bought a YEAR previously. (Even more incredulous was that she actually still had the receipt!) Because of the extreme absurdity of her return request (I believe I said, "Um, are you kidding me?"), I decided to consult a manager before approving it. But it turned out that we couldn't really say no to her -- she was technically within the limits of the return policy. She got all her money returned onto her credit card. Then, she stormed off in a huff because we couldn't return the money to her in cash!

4. Another lady used to take advantage of the neighboring Lancome counter. She would buy expensive perfumes and body lotions, only to take them home, use about half of the product, fill the bottle back up with water or cheap lotion, and exchange the items for brand new ones. Since they were "like new" to all outward appearances, no one caught on. They thought she just wanted to try a different perfume or lotion, or that she had purchased the wrong one by accident. She did this about 3 times before anyone caught on. After that, she wasn't allowed to make returns anymore!

5. Then, there were The Minivers. I can't remember what their last name was, but it sounds like Miniver. This was an elderly couple, who on first inspection, seem like your regular, cute grandparent-like couple. But don't let them fool you -- they will CAMP OUT at your makeup counter, making you demonstrate every single freaking product you sell. These are the same products you demonstrated to them the last time they came in, by the way. After each application on Mrs. Miniver, she and Mr. Miniver would discuss how it looked on her. This would take about 15 minutes per discussion. You will sit there and wonder why in the hell an 80 year old man gives a rat's ass which shade of eyeshadow looks better on his wife of 56 years. After they decide which products they will buy, they will end up spending about $300. But wait! Don't get too excited about that big sale, even if your manager does pat you on the back! Mrs. Miniver will arrive bright and early tomorrow morning to return everything she bought the day before. And then someone else will have to go through the whole thing again with her.

Imagine my excitement when I quit the Clinique job to take on a full time position at the public library.........only to discover that Mr. and Mrs. Miniver used that library. And drove everyone nuts there, too. There was about a 3 year period where I couldn't escape the Minivers!

Those are the main crazy makeup counter stories. If I think of more, I will share. And all apologies to any female readers with hairy chests. :)



*I wish I was making this up, but I'm not. Yes, the woman had a hairy chest. Like a man. And she decided to wear a low-cut top. It was a scary moment. One of the few times in my life I've literally been speechless. "Distracting" doesn't even begin to cover it.

Mr. Comedian & The Cruise

A conversation with my boyfriend, via text message:

Me: I just saw your twin! [On a side note, this guy looked so much like CN, I did a double-triple take!]

CN: You saw Brad Pitt?

Me: *playing along* Yes! He's on campus for some reason.

CN: Tell him he owes me 8 bucks for that Meet Joe Black movie.

And earlier today on myspace:

Me: Babe! Did you know there might be a chocolate buffet on our cruise???!!

CN: Well, I guess if we get separated, I will know where to find you.

Ha. Ha. Mr. Comedian.

I haven't told you about the dream I had, have I? I had a dream the other night that CN and I were getting married. I was arguing with the lady at the dress store about the design of my wedding dress. It was (oddly enough) strapless and blue and white striped. The fabric was silky, and the stripes were small and even-width. There was embellishment at the bust. The dress looked very strange, actually. Ugly, even. No offense to you if you like striped wedding dresses., but this one did not look good. Obviously, if you are reading this and you know CN in real life, you are NOT allowed to inform him of this dream. On penalty of death. Dude, I'm not kidding. Zip it.

I know I said I would talk about the cruise today. Here's some stuff I want to share:

1. Our ship, the Celebration, is the second-oldest ship in the Carnival fleet. Its maiden voyage was in 1987, and the decor reflects this. (Hell-o neon signs and super-bright colors! Ugh.) But word on the streets is, they make up for this with their fantastic service. The maitre d is supposed to be hilarious. The Broadway-themed show is supposed to be great, one of the comedians is a riot and the waiters remember what drink you like to drink at dinner. The room service is super-quick and the cabin attendants are thoughtful. I know all of this because I have been reading all the passenger reviews on Cruise Critic.

2. This will be kind of a special cruise, because the Celebration has recently been sold to a Spanish tourism company, and this summer it will be re-fitted for that cruise line, which does not sail in North America. We will be on the next-to-last sailing of this ship for Carnival. And since we will be sailing out of Jacksonville, we get to go under this huge bridge when we leave port. It's supposed to be really cool. I will try to take pics so I can share.

3. The showers in the cabins are difficult to control. The water will run from icy cold to blistering hot, and then back again, with no warning. This will piss me off, I can already tell you. But if this is the biggest complaint, I think I will be ok. :)

4. I am living in fear of getting sea sick, since we all know I am Barf Queen. I am coming prepared with the following: dramamine, ginger snaps, ginger altoids and those magnetic bracelet things. I should be fine -- I was on a small boat cruise around Lake Michigan once, and I was fine. But I'm still freaking out. If I do get sea sick, at least I will not be able to eat anything and I will lose weight, right??? But dude, if there's a chocolate buffet, I am eating it, even if I am sick. I don't care.

5. A month or two ago, right after embarkation, the captain of the ship was notified by the U.S. Marshals and the FBI that he must not go into International Waters quite yet. Why? Because there was a convicted murderer on board, running from the law, and they needed to arrest him before they hit International Waters. Yeah. Wowza. How did I know about this interesting little factoid? There's a website that keeps track of all the reports of insanity and zaniness aboard cruise ships. You can also look up the safety record of all the ships.

I encourage you to browse around it if you're bored -- some of the stories are hilarious, like the drunk guy who climbed into the life boat. He grabbed an ax (don't ask me where he got an ax) and began chopping away at the rope holding the life boat. Security approached him and told him to stop and climb down. He did. But he was so drunk, he jumped the wrong way -- into the ocean. What a dumbass.

Other people submit their rants about being on the "cruise from hell". One family, which included two small children, found themselves on board a cruise that consisted mainly of swingers. LOL now THAT is funny. How would you handle that as a parent, you know? LOL I imagine it's something like this:

Little Bobby: Hey, Daddy, that man over there said that he wanted to come to our room tonight to party with you and Mommy. I told him that would be fun, because you said I don't have a bedtime while we are on the boat!
Daddy: *gulp!* Uh...ok, we will have to see about that.
Little Bobby: Daddy, what's a rubber?

6. Of course, we all know what I'm really excited about: the food. Duh. Between the burgers, ice cream, pizza, chocolate buffet, Mexican buffet, pancakes, waffles, bacon, filet mignon, salmon, lobster, shrimp, chocolate hot lava cake, free room service and all the Diet Coke I can drink for $20, I am really looking forward to it! I can order as many dinners and desserts as I want! This truly sounds like heaven to me. *Realization about the reason for my weight loss problems set in* Crap. I am going to gain 10 pounds. Crap. Crap. Crap. Ok, I will pack my work out clothes in the hopes that I will want to go for an on-deck run. Which sounds like a blast, actually.

7. There is a penny slot machine in the casino. I am not much of a gambler, but I do have a penny jar I am not using....WOOT. There's also trivia contests (CN and I love to do those), bingo, karaoke, chess, putt-putt golf, game show-type things and a hairy chest contest by the pool.

"You should enter that!" I said to CN.

"That's not funny," he replied. CN has approximately 4 hairs on his skinny little chest. LOL

"But that's why you will win! Don't you see? It will be hilarious!" I exclaimed.

He did not agree. But I'll try and talk him into it. Perhaps I can bargain with him by participating in karaoke. (I am NOT a karaoke person. I can't sing for squat, and I don't like being in the spotlight, literally or figuratively.)

8. The locals in The Bahamas are nice, but very pushy when it comes to selling you things. I am hoping there will be a plethora of fake designer hand bags, prices negotiable. And some cute jewelry.

Ok, that's all I can think of right now. I'm sure there will be more to share after this weekend. I have so much to do before I go:

find a beach cover-up
stock up on self-tanner and sunblock
find a wide-brimmed hat
possibly buy a new bikini
dye my roots (I can't take it anymore! I do not want yucky roots in my photos!)
weed my backyard
get Sammy ready for his trip to MJ's house while I'm gone
clean my house
burn a CD to commemorate the trip
give myself a manicure and pedicure
clean out my fridge
learn how to operate CN's new camera (he won't take the time to learn, he said)
start packing!!!

I leave on Thursday morning, so I will probably post again before I go. WOO HOO!!! Have a great weekend, everyone!

Another Fun Friday

Ok, I have been saving up for this one. (I've been having a hard time finding FF stuff lately...)

How awesome is this blog??? Gotta love analytical people with a sense of humor. And I love that you can buy the tshirts. All the Boolean logic and Venn diagrams appeal to the librarian in me. And unless you're a librarian, you might be lost right now. Venn diagrams are something that librarians geek out on. I can totally explain them to you. No? Fine, suit yourself.

And for the record, I understand everything in the Boolean entry linked just now. Everything. It's crystal clear to me. As long as you take all the numbers out.

Do you remember typewriters? Cameras with flash bulbs that would burn out? How about floppy disks that were actually floppy? Or car phones? Have you ever wondered when things we use now will be only a distant memory? (I personally think compact discs are soon to be on the chopping block.) The Extinction Timeline predicts when things will become obsolete in our society. Tip: To get a better view of the graph image, you need to click on it. (My boss sent it to me because it predicts that libraries will be obsolete in the next 20 years. WTF?! As if!)

CN had a job interview on Wednesday. I sent him this Tony Little/Geico video, because it cracks me up, and I'm always yelling, "You can dooooowit!!!!!" So all week, I have been telling him the he can "doooowit!"



I found this website, Married to the Sea, through Toothpaste for Dinner. Both are great websites full of wacky comics. Some of them leave me scratching my head, but some of them leave me in stitches. Enjoy!

Have a great weekend, everyone! Happy Easter!

Ironic Ending

Thank you, everyone, for all the nice comments on the last post. CN was bummed about his cousin. On Thursday night, he asked me to come over, because he didn't feel well. He had a fever and was dizzy and his tummy was upset. He told me he had just called his mom to tell her that he would not be able to go to Alabama for the funeral because he was sick. I pointed out that whenever he gets stressed out, he feels sick, and that he would probably feel fine in the morning. But he was convinced he was sick, so he stuck to his guns.

The next morning, he felt fine. But it was too late -- his mom had already left for Alabama. I had to bite my tongue in order to stop myself from saying, "I told you so!" He's so funny -- whenever he's stressed out, his body just reacts like that -- he just gets sick for one day. It's very odd. Anyway, he felt really badly about not going to the funeral, but I told him everyone would understand.

So he and I ended up hanging out most of the weekend. Nothing really exciting, just the usual: errands, the gym, watching tv, lunch with MJ, yardwork...wow, we are an exciting couple, huh??

I have to say, the real highlight of my weekend was last night. I had coffee with Repo's ex, the girl he cheated on. With me. Yeah, file that under "Things I Never Thought Would Happen".

It all started last week, when I got an email from her on myspace. She apologized to me for everything that happened and wanted to meet for coffee. You could have knocked me over with a feather! I don't think I would've been more shocked if Princess Diana emailed me!

I thought this was very big of her, and I realized it probably took a lot of guts, so I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and agree to meet her for coffee. More than anything, I was curious to see what she had to say.

All weekend, I had my doubts. What if she was going to beat me up? What if I showed up, and Repo was with her? What if she is working as a double agent for Repo? What if she's just a huge bitch? Why is she doing this???

For those of you who may not know, ever since all the crap went down over a year ago, and I found out I was the "other woman", Repo has been making my life hell -- he has stalked me online, harassed me, left me mean comments and emails, and even tried to break me and CN apart (I won't go into details here). Repo is the main reason this blog is private. And every time I run into Repo, he retaliates. So to make a long story short, I almost live in fear of Repo, because he will stop at nothing to harass me, and I'm tired of it. So yesterday, I was a little worried that I would be inviting all of this crap back into my life.

By the time I got to Starbuck's, the last thing I needed was coffee! I was a bundle of nerves. I got in line and made my order. That's when I heard a tiny voice behind me:

"Virginia?"

I turned around to find a tiny, young girl. My first thought was that she's much prettier in person. And she smelled really good. (Is that a weird thing to say? I dunno.)

"Barbie?" I replied. (Not her real name -- I'll explain in a sec.)

We said hello, and then she proceeded to buy my coffee for me. I thought this was a nice gesture, and thanked her, but it didn't really break the ice. We had about 5 minutes of a very awkward silence as we waited on our coffees.

We grabbed a table and started off with small talk. She told me how the last time she came to Starbuck's, the girl thought her name was Barbie, and we had a good laugh, because her name sounds nothing like "Barbie". We talked about our jobs, our families, our friends and how we have both considered moving away from Columbia at certain points.

I began to relax and realize that she didn't have an agenda. She was not hostile or bitter or bitchy. She was just a naive 23 year old, recent college grad, trying to figure out life after college.

To say I could relate is an understatement. I was sitting across a small table from a 23 year old version of myself. Then, I saw that her hands were shaking, and I have to say, that kind of made my heart melt -- this girl was terrified of me! Of ME! It was so preposterous, I almost laughed about it. All this time, I was worried that she was going to rag me out for "ruining" her relationship with her boyfriend! Or show up with a posse of her friends to beat me up!

After we got to know each other a little bit, she finally opened up to me and gave me the dirt on the good stuff: what happened on her end of things when all the shit hit the fan. It turns out that she and Repo just broke up -- for good, this time -- only a week ago. She wanted to apologize to me about how he behaved and for not believing me when I tried to tell her what was going on. She said that she finally sees him for what he really is and can't believe how stupid she was.

I told her that she's not the first girl he's done this to, and then I proceeded to list off all the crap Repo had put me through, both during and after our relationship. She lit up like a firefly -- she had no idea he was like this to all girls. She thought that it was just her, and I could see the relief on her face. After that, we just compared notes and kept saying, "You too?!" -- because he made us both feel the same way during our relationships, and he did the same things to both of us. She even caught MRSA from him, just like I did.

Then we analyzed his behavior and his life, trying to figure out why he behaves the way he does. She thinks he's bi-polar, and I think he's got some serious narcissism going on. She also told me that his health is not very good -- he's gained a lot of weight, and he sleeps too much and eats nothing but fast food. She said he's been really down lately. We agreed that he had no one to blame but himself, because all he does is hurt people who care about him.

She informed me that he still goes to my gym (CRAP!) and told me he has a new car. She described it to me so that I can keep my eyes peeled. I informed her that assholes like this only make you appreciate the nice guys who do eventually come along -- she's pretty bitter and cynical about love right now, to say the least. I told her that having CN makes it all worthwhile in the end, and that everything is going to be ok. (She is still upset about the break-up. She had tears in her eyes when she was listing all the mean things Repo did to her. So I have to admit, I felt pretty sympathetic towards her. Poor thing.)

I also told her to hold on to her hat, because Repo is probably about to start harassing the bejeezus out of her. She said he'd already started. Oh dear. "No, it's ok, really. This is just karma, getting me. I have had this coming for a long time." -- This launched us into a big discussion about karma and ex-boyfriends, of course.

FOUR hours later, she and I were STILL talking. And I have to admit, I really like her! She's funny and independent and gutsy. It took a lot for her to approach me and apologize to me. She just wanted to make things right, and that meant a lot to me. Of course, now I feel badly about all the things I said about her, but she told me the same thing, so it's all water under the bridge.

You're not going to believe this, but I think I just made a new girlfriend! She even invited me to go shopping with her in Charlotte in a couple of weeks-- I think I will take her up on it. And apparently, we share more than the same taste in ex-boyfriends -- right before we parted, we realized we were wearing the same shoes.

I don't really know how to explain the emotions I am feeling about all of this. Have you ever gone to a funeral and met up with a long-lost relative or friend? It kind of felt like that. Your gut instinct is to be all happy and excited to talk to a nice person, but under the circumstances, you don't really feel like it's appropriate, because the situation that brought you together is sad and serious. And you feel kind of weird talking about anything other than that serious topic.

It was very surreal...but good. I feel really good about all of it.

Babies R (Not) Us

Like many young women, I want to have kids one day. I'm thinking at least 3, maybe as many as 5. (Hey, I come from a big family, so this is normal to me.) And although I am absolutely positive I want to be a mother before I die, and I have a couple of names picked out, that is about as far as I'd taken this thought.

Until this weekend.

Don't freak out -- I'm not having a baby! *knocks on wood to be sure*

But lately, I can't seem to escape the thought of babies, and it's starting to wig me out. Let's make a list, shall we? Yes, let's. Because VB's heart rate is rapidly accelerating, and lists make her feel more in control of her world. Here we go.

1. I had a dream two nights ago that I was talking with an old friend about what it's like to be pregnant. We poked at her belly and discussed her due date. I think that in the dream, I was trying to get pregnant. Whoa.

2. Last week, CN and I were sitting on the couch watching Biggest Loser. I mentioned how it would be so easy to lose weight if you had kids, because you'd feel like you'd have a really good reason -- something to motivate you to live into old age. He replied, "Yeah, but you'll have kids one day. You should start being healthier now." (He's right, as usual.) He was visibly surprised to hear my answer: "No. I don't know if I'm going to have kids. It may not be in the cards for me." And I shrugged, because I am not one to count my chickens (or children?) before they hatch. And then I changed the subject, because the conversation was getting a little to "real" for me. I'm not ready to talk about that with CN yet. Heck, I'm not ready to talk to anyone about that!

2. CN and I were invited to a baby shower this past weekend. So we had to go pick out a present at Babies R Us, which, if you've never been, is like Wal-Mart, only it's filled with pregnancy/baby/toddler stuff. And it's FULL of women who look like this:

Now, I don't know if any of you have ever been in a giant room full of women who look like their water is about to break, unless you are an OB/GYN, but it is terrifying!!! I wanted to run up to each soon-to-be mom and play traffic cop: "Everyone! Now just back up! I need you to keep at least 10 feet back! She's gonna blow any minute!!!" I'm not kidding -- some of those women HAD to be at almost ten months of pregnancy. My fear of accidentally bumping into them and causing their water to break left me temporarily paralyzed. I didn't move an inch.

I looked around some more. There were approximately 7.3 billion baby items to purchase for your baby and/or your pregnancy. Now, unlike some women, my Baby Experience Resume is pretty extensive -- tons of babysitting, the oldest of 5 kids, lover of all things small and cute, oozing with maternal instinct, and a Master's degree in diaper changing.

But nothing, and I mean nothing, could prepare me for the Baby Bonanza that is Babies R Us.

There were these strap-things, which hold your big pregnant belly up. Like a giant seatbelt or something. I don't know. There were covers for your nipples. I don't know why nipples need covers, and I'm wondering if it's because they don't make bras big enough for pregnancy-sized boobs-- a terrifying thought. And I have never seen so many thermometer options in my life. Did you know that pacifiers come in sizes? Yeah. Neither did I.

Between the pregnant women, the bizarre baby items for sale, and the umpteen newborns in the building, my head began to spin. I looked over at CN. He was white as a sheet, and also seemingly cemented to the floor.

"Oh. My. God. There are pregnant women everywhere...." I trailed off, speechless with fear.

"Yeah. And babies," whispered CN.

"This is totally freaking me out. Let's get the hell outta here ASAP!" I said.

We printed off the registry, grabbed the closest thing in our price range (which happened to be a Breast Friend, a product I was actually familiar with) and practically ran to the register. On the way to the register, I explained to CN what a Breast Friend does, and he proceeded to make jokes about how he wants one so he can be my breast friend. Har. Har.

3. On the way to the baby shower, I realized that never in the History of Baby Showers has there only been one baby or one pregnant woman. There were going to be more. And I was right. CN and I walked into a nest of new mothers and fathers, all discussing their new babies and baby products and baby philosophies and organic baby food and....well, you get the picture. There were two babies in addition to the one being celebrated. There were baby-themed cakes, decorations and party favors. Everyone was coupled up, either engaged or already married. It felt like everyone was expected to either have a baby or want to have a baby before even walking through the front door. Like it was a requirement to attend.

It was so overwhelming, I completely forgot that I had a boyfriend. My inner Single Girl said, "Shit! I hate parties like this! I'm single and I can hear my biological clock ticking now more than ever! Why do they never invite more than one single girl to parties like this?? Don't they realize it's torture? Oh. Wait. I am here with someone...Right. Ok." And then I spent the rest of the party trying to see if there were any single girls there, so that I could introduce myself and comfort them. Old habits never die, I guess. Or perhaps I just don't see CN and I as a couple couple yet. Because we haven't been dating long enough to discuss the possibility of making a little VB or CN yet. Does that make sense? I dunno. It felt too soon for us to be in that room with all those.....baby people.

Consequently, I kept to myself and stuffed 3 chocolate-covered strawberries, 4 ounces of dip/chips, one brownie and 17 petit-fours down my gob.

PMS hormones + too many babies + weird baby items + freakishly swollen bellies + a party where I know no one = Time to eat.

Ugh. I am getting a headache just typing this.

Anyway, our gift was a hit, and many "Breast Friend" jokes ensued.

4. After the party, CN and I had hoped to return to the Land of the Childless by attending W's birthday get-together. No such luck. My friend Y was there, and she is about 6 months pregnant with her first child. And a couple was there with their 3 month-old little girl. She was adorable. And they let me hold her. And she was so little! And she had that powdery baby smell! And she stuck out her bottom lip when she cried! And we all cooed over her adorableness.

CN was watching me do all of this. I cooed to him about the cute baby. He said it was impossible to escape babies that day. I nodded and continued to coo.

"You don't want one, do you?" he asked, terrified.

"Oh my God, NO!" I shouted. CN had jolted me back to reality.

And that's when I realized that I really like the idea of having a baby and being a mother. Possibly even with CN. But the whole pregnancy and labor thing totally freaks me out, and I am nowhere close to being ready to have one any time soon!!!

I wish the stork story was true. Because that is the kind of pregnancy/labor I want! Just thinking about how scary labor must be and how pregnancy totally f**ks up your body makes me feel like I'm going to faint. Why can't a nice little bird just drop if off on your doorstep? This is much more logical to me. It also sounds cheaper, safer, faster and cleaner. Scientists should look into this and see if this is indeed a viable option.

I explained all of this to CN and told him that I can't wait to be a mom, because once the baby has arrived, I think I would like it, because I know what to do. It's the whole pregnancy/swollen belly/scary labor stuff that bothers me.

He totally disagreed, saying that the baby's arrival is when all of his fears would start!

I guess it's good to know that we are on the same page about all of this stuff. Kinda.

Miss Goldilocks

So much for posting every day this month. Totally forgot to post this weekend. Oops. Not like my weekend was ultra-exciting. Although, it had its moments, as you will see.

Friday night I did this. In heels. Not one of my better ideas, considering we ended up walking about a mile. By the end, I was a whiny, hobbling, pathetic fashion victim. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. You would think that since I did the tour a couple of years ago, I would remember how much walking was involved. But alas, that is giving me too much credit. Anyway, if they have a ghost tour where you are, (and according to Google, they are everywhere) I highly recommend going on one. It's full of history and urban legends. Very fun and different way to spend a couple of hours.

Then CN and I ate dinner here. I highly recommend the White Pizza. Mmmm...the cool thing is, they use whole wheat flour and low-fat cheese, so the pizzas aren't as bad for you. And you'd never know it! It's delicious!

Saturday, we had breakfast at Cracker Barrel, which was so exciting because they have hashbrown casserole AND blueberry pancakes (my all-time favorite breakfast food). If you live on the West Coast, I don't think you have Cracker Barrels, but that's ok. It's worth driving for. Man oh man, do they have good food!!! Plus, they have a cool store you can browse in while you wait for a table.

Then we ran errands and went to the mall. I made us some dinner, and then we watched the USC-Arkansas game. (And no, I don't want to talk about it. It stings.)

Titillating thus far, huh? I know you are all on the edge of your seats right now, so I will chug ahead to Sunday. :P

That afternoon, I went to Wal-Mart, and I saw a veeeeeeeerrrry interesting lady. At least, I think it was a lady. Picture in your mind: Tammy Faye Baker and a transvestite had a love child. Only the love child is in her late 60s. With frizzy platinum hair. And wearing the following outfit:

gold sequin newsboy cap
sparkly gold sweater
large gold hoop earrings
gold necklaces weighing about 10 pounds -- the woman had on the Mr. T starter kit, I swear!
6 or 7 (you guessed it) gold rings
gold satin sash tied around her waist as a belt
gold cigarette pants, stopping just shy of her ankles
(surprise, surprise) gold satin pumps
18 pounds of makeup, complete with fuchsia lipstick

Normally, I am able to control myself when faced with such odd people. But this lady was something else. I couldn't help but stare. Which is apparently what she wanted from everyone.

"Holy shit!" I mumbled to myself as I walked past her.

The Wal-Mart worker nearby giggled. Oops. Me and my big mouth. Too loud!

Then, I had a 2nd scare. You see, Miss Goldilocks wasn't pushing her own cart. Oh no. She doesn't "do" that. It might mess up her (presumably) gold-painted acrylic nails. She had a young girl with her to push the cart.

"Come along, Millie, push the cart over here!" is what I believe she said to the little girl. I looked over to see a beautiful little girl pushing the cart of Miss Goldilocks. She looked like she had just left ballerina class. Aw.

Now this poor thing, I assume it was her granddaughter -- or great-granddaughter, there's no telling what all that makeup is preserving -- was, at about age 11, already exhibiting traits of a future Miss Goldilocks. Her hair was pale blond, put up into an elegant bun, and her eyebrows were perfectly plucked.

I wanted to grab her and shake her and yell, "Good God! What is she doing to you??!? Don't you know little girls don't pluck their eyebrows?!!! Now, hurry! Run! Get out of here and away from her as fast as you can!! I'll cover for you! GO!!!"

But unfortunately for the little girl, I am neither that impulsive nor interfering. I shook my head and continued on with my shopping. And smiled to myself when I noticed aaaaaaall the other shoppers staring at this crazy woman, too.

I only have two regrets, really, about this whole encounter.

1. I didn't take any pictures -- it SUCKS when you see things like this and you are alone, huh?
2. I didn't look in her cart to see what she was buying. But I bet there was a big ol' vat of cold cream in there!

I wanted to take a picture so badly, but we were in such close proximity, I would have exposed myself. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. But MAN, that was such a blog-worthy moment!

I can't wait to go to Wal-Mart next Sunday. I wonder who will be there this time!!

Out of the Blue

This post is 100% mush free. Absolutely NO mention of you-know-who. So no barfing, ok? Ok.

I forgot to share this really random dream with y'all.

The other night, I dreamt that I got a third dog -- a black cocker spaniel. Which is weird, because I don't want a third dog and I don't like cocker spaniels. But anyway, it was running away from me along the side of a busy road, and I got into my minivan (LOL! Why am I driving a minivan???) to chase it down.

So I am chasing down my dog, and I'm using my car to do so. Very strange.

Some random lady, also in a minivan, but going the opposite direction, pulls over and catches my dog for me. She motions for me to follow her. She leads me to an elementary school. But it's not just any elementary school. It's an animal shelter/elementary school.

Hold on, it gets weirder.

I go out back, where there is a very large, fenced-in grassy yard. It's full of stray dogs. I go in and start playing with the stray dogs. They are all cute and wonderful. Apparently, this is when I forget all about my cocker spaniel, because the next thing I know, I'm running to the desk (where you go to adopt a dog) with two Boston Terrier puppies--one under each arm--and as I'm running, I'm shouting, "WOW!!! I can't believe they're only $1.99!!!!"

What a wack job I am! 4 Boston Terriers, two of whom are puppies??? My subconscious has lost its mind. Although, they are pretty cute when they're puppies......


But I could never have 3 or more dogs in my tiny little house. It's already hard to keep it clean from all the dog hair.

In other news, I had a crazy thing happen to me this morning. Anyone reading this who has lost someone very close to them will probably be able to relate. I was making my coffee this morning when I had a HUGE wave of grief hit me, and suddenly, I missed my dad terribly.

So there I was, making coffee, and sobbing, for (seemingly) no reason at all! It came out of nowhere! It honestly feels just like getting smacked on the back from a big wave when you're standing in water up to your waist in the ocean. It feels JUST like that.

If you can't relate, all I can tell you is that sometimes, without any warning, these moments will hit you where you remember (not like you ever forgot, but it's just not always in the front of your mind) that you can't just call them on the phone and hear their voice. That it's probably going to be a very VERY long time until you ever talk to them again. You won't get hugs from them, you won't get that reassuring pat on the hand that tells you everything is going to be ok. All you have are memories. Which is tough when you miss someone and just want to hear their voice. Right now, even just hearing his voice would be all I need. I would not even need to see him in person. I wish I hadn't taken all those phone calls home for granted.

Sometimes, it just really gets to me that my dad has never seen my house, has no idea how successful I've been in my career, will never attend my wedding, will never meet my kids, will never meet any of his in-laws....and I get really sad.

It's not that I walk around in a daydream all the time, forgetting that my dad is gone. It's just that I don't really stop to think about it all very much. I know that if I do, I will just get upset and start to cry. So I don't think about it a lot. But unfortunately, that's now how grief works. You can't pick and choose when you get to think about people who are gone. You can repress all you want, but eventually, the grief has to get out, kind of like a boiler that is going to blow if you don't let out some of the steam pressure that has been building up.

I think this morning, I just had to let it out. I'm ok now. I don't know what made me think about him suddenly this morning. Maybe I had another dream about him, and I just forgot it when I woke up. Have I blogged about all the weird dreams I've had about my dad since he died? They are pretty weird. I will tell them, unless I already have. Someone remind me.

Ok, now I'm crying at work! Gotta stop!!!! I'm ok, I promise. This is normal. Once you experience grief, it just sort of becomes like a tattoo, a new haircut or a piercing. It's always there, it becomes part of who you are, and you aren't always aware of it. At first, you are very very aware of it and it's all you can talk/think about. But then, you only think about it in certain instances. Eventually, it just seems everyday to you, and you aren't emotional or reactive to it any more. I guess that unless you've experienced it, it's hard to explain.

Sorry about the sad post today, guys. Guess I can't be funny all the time. I'll try to be more upbeat tomorrow, I promise! Today was just weird for some reason.

South Africa Loves Me

One of my lurkers recently emailed me to ask for an invite to read this blog, and she mentioned that she heard about my blog through the South African version of Cosmopolitan magazine.

What?!

I was not aware of this, so I asked for more details. She told me the issue it appeared in, and so I sent an email to its editor asking for a copy of the article. I was so glad to open my email today and find that the editor sent me a PDF of the article! I guess they have a "Hot Stuff" section in each issue, and for the month of August, my blog was the "Hot Blog". WOOT!!

I have been wondering why my statcounter shows so many hits from South Africa. And now I know. I'm famous there!

I tried to figure out how to post a copy of the article here for you, but it's in PDF, which Blogger does not support. I also looked into putting it on Google Docs, and then linking to it from here. Again, no such luck--the little blurb about my blog disappeared when I converted it into txt format. So you are going to have to take my word for it. But here's what it said:

"We love it because she gives us insight into the naive yet neurotic world of a 20-something American country girl. She’s a complete pink-packaged anomaly, confessing that her
musical taste goes from hip-hop to rock and country music –and her musings range from the arb to the occasionally substantial. But a weird thing happens to you when you’re reading – you start to see patterns in her life that also exist in yours, almost 14, 000 km away."

Hmmm. It sounds like they haven't read too much of my blog. I rarely talk about music on here. And I'm not quite sure why they think of me as a "country" girl. I also do not know what they mean by "pink-packaged anomaly", but I like that they describe me as a naive yet neurotic girl! LOL , that's pretty accurate. Not a glowing review, but a good one, at least.

Maybe I need to get one of those tshirts that say: "I'm kind of a big deal."

Ha Ha!

Talking about South Africa reminds me of a story about my dad, actually. My parents met at work in Washington, DC. But right before they met, WLF had to take a business trip to South Africa, which as you know is home to many diamond mines.

Since they were so cheap, WLF decided to buy some while he was there. Although he was divorced at the time, he hoped he'd get married again one day and could give a diamond to a new wife in an engagement ring. The back-up plan was that he'd just end up giving them to his sister or his oldest daughter (my older half-sister, Banana). So he bought two or three of them.

Due to customs regulations, he was not allowed to bring back the biggest one with him on the plane. It had to be shipped to him. He said that would be fine, and so he left his address with the diamond salesman.

He arrived back in the States and meets the new mail girl, who also happened to be my mother. It's love at first sight, and he begins to pursue her relentlessly (remember, he asked her out to lunch every day for a YEAR before she said yes!). Meanwhile, the diamond is getting shipped to him.

One day, he goes to get his mail out of the mailbox. Inside is a plain white envelope, with a hand-written address. The return address read: Capetown, South Africa. He opened it easily, because it was just licked like any regular envelope would be. Inside was the diamond. No wrapping, no insurance, no letter, nada. Just a plain envelope with a 3 carat diamond inside. It had been mailed halfway across the world without being lost or stolen. It was pretty incredible, actually, if you think about how many hands must have handled that envelope.

About 2 years later, it was put into The Czarina's engagement ring.

Cool story, huh?

Fun Friday!

I found some interesting websites this week....kind of weird ones...

You know what you believe in, right? Well, if you've ever wondered what religion most closely matches your beliefs, you may want to check out the Belief-o-Matic. (I am supposed to be an Orthodox Quaker, apparently....who knew???)

When you're sick, do you ever wonder if you've "caught that bug that's going around"? Ever wonder how many other people nearby also called in sick that day? Or are you just sick and stuck at home, bored? Check out Who Is Sick.

Are you one of those people who likes to make up words? Then check out Verbotomy. Every day there is a new challenge, where you read the definition and create a verb for it. Or, browse the archives of made-up words that aren't in the dictionary, but probably should be.

Ok, I don't know how to describe this music site, but it's one part online radio station, one part Pandora (which is also a cool site, btw). Only you can tell it what kind of mood you're in, and it will play appropriate songs. Did I mention you can limit it to decade? Or genre? Or that every song has a direct link to Amazon, in case you want to buy the album? Or that the site is free and full of pretty colors??? You don't even have to do one of those stupid registrations for username/passwords!! It's wicked cool! I love Musicovery!!!! (As I am typing this, I am enjoying Prince's "1999".)

Last but not least....I was tempted to devote an entire blog post just to this site, because I bet all of your comments will be discussing this one:

Do you have a young, virginal daughter you'd like to marry off to the highest bidder, preferably before she discovers high school boys? Then you need to submit her profile and price on Marry Our Daughter. I wish I were kidding, folks, but I think this site is legit. There are some effed up people out there, huh? Make sure you read the "testimonials" -- they are SO wrong.... [Note: This site has server problems, I think. Just hit your refresh button until the site pops up.]

Have a great weekend, everyone!!!

Fun Friday!

Yay! Ok, I have been saving up for this one.

1. Do you know any packrats? I bet they aren't nearly as bad as this woman. (I forget where I found this...apologies for not crediting someone...)

2. If you truly hate someone, you can damn them!! Check out You Are Damned! (If you don't want to damn anyone, you can just go and read the damn wall -- there are some funny ones!)

3. Ever wanted to make your own internet cartoons? Now you can!

4. Are you one of those weird people like me who likes it when people tell you what to write about? If so, this site gives you 365 writing prompts -- one for every day of the year! If that sounds a little too limiting to you, maybe you would like to try a 6 Word Story. According to the article, Hemingway's favorite story he ever wrote consisted of only 6 words: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." -- Neat, huh?

Have nice weekends, everyone!!!!

Peter Butter, etc.

One of my coworkers is the proud mother of a four-year-old. Her super sense of humor and ability to make people laugh has been passed down to her son. She told me the following story the other day and has generously allowed me to re-tell it here.

She has been working with him on his enunciation/pronunciation with words. For example, if he were to say "pasketti" rather than "spaghetti" she would say to him:

"No, D., it's spuh-get-tee not pasketti."

And then he would try saying it correctly.

Well, the other day, she asked him if he would like a peanut butter sandwich. To which he replied,

"No, Mommy. It's pee-ter but-ter. Say it. Pee-ter But-ter."

I practically had tears streaming down my face I was laughing so hard. I'm giggling now as I type this.

Minor update: Remember my post about the crazy aunt thing? Well, I got 2 books from the lady whom my aunt wants me to meet. She wrote me the nicest letter and even autographed the books! She is a very successful woman, and I must say, getting a package from Fifth Ave. in New York City might be the most glamorous thing to happen to me in months! Oh, what a sad existance I lead...but anyway, one of the books is full of good advice for young women, so I'm about to tear into it. Is it tacky to name-drop on a blog? I had never heard of her or her books until my aunt got us in touch. I'm sure there is some kind of etitquette rule I'm breaking right now. Oh well. I'm just trying to share a book recommendation and illustrate how mundane my day-to-day life is! No offense meant!

Also, I simply must buy something from this website! My sentiments exactly! Who says librarians have to be frumpy, grumpy and have no sense of humor? Batgirl was a librarian, you know. She's pretty cool, I think. I think I have my 2006 Halloween costume picked out...

Less than an hour until my nice long weekend starts! I'm sure something blog-worthy will happen, readers! Stay tuned! And wish me luck in the love department!

The Playa

I ain't a playa, I just crush a lot. --Big Pun

I can't believe I just quoted Big Pun in my blog. I'm really exposing my terrible taste in music right now. Anyway, the playa I'm referring to here would be.....me. Let me explain...

Last night I was running late to meet Danger Dan. I wanted to call him to tell him I was running late, but I had left his number in my other purse. Then I realized he didn't have my cell number, just my work number. Oops. Oh well. So, I got to the bar where we were planning on meeting, and by then I was 10-15 minutes late. I felt really bad--you should be on time for first dates! Or at least call! I'm such a spaz. So I walked into the bar, and saw an attractive guy who resembled Danger Dan.

"Are you Dan?" I asked.
"Nope. Are you meeting someone here?" he asked.
"Yeah. It's sort of a blind date, and I'm really late." I explained.
"You don't know what he looks like?"
"Well, he sort of looks like you. I was kind of hoping you were him. But I'm going to go over here and see if he's sitting at a table. Thanks."

So I kept looking around the bar. Then I looked in the dining area...no one was sitting alone, no one looked like Dan. Dang! It was official. I was the stander-upper.

I walk back into the bar and said to the attractive guy, "Hey, I know you aren't Dan, but would you like to be?"

"Yeah!" he replied.

I sat down next to him, ordered a "near beer", lit a cig, and began to flirt madly. I asked if he minded that I smoke. "Actually, it looks like I'm in good company," I said as I noticed his cigarettes lying on the bar. We had a smoke together as I explained to him my situation and how I think I'm an asshole because I just stood someone up. I felt so terrible! And no way to remedy the situation since I didn't have a number to call. At some point I said something funny because I remember making him laugh. (What can I say? Sometimes I'm at my best under pressure!) He asked me how I was getting set up with Danger Dan. I told him match.com. He said he had heard about online dating but didn't think it was really his style.

"Yeah, you don't need any help, do you? You've got girls just walking up to you!"

He chuckled. I asked him about the big gift bag sitting in front of him. He said it was a Christmas present from his friend. He pulled out an embroidered hand towel with "Mark" written in red script. He introduced me to the gift-giver. She was an older (drunk) lady named Carolyn (or was it Marilyn?). Anyway, they were friends. Then Mark introduced himself. "Yeah, it's Mark, I know. I saw the towel," I said and smiled. We started talking some more when...

I saw Danger Dan walk in. Whew! I wasn't the late one. Thank goodness. I thanked Mark for listening to me, said it was nice to meet him and proceeded with my original plans.

Danger Dan was surprisingly...super! He's one of those people who is really comfortable with himself, which instantly put me at ease. He had tried to call me to tell me he was running late..we had a good laugh at our confusion. He was really understanding, which I appreciated. We hit it off instantly. He tells great stories--I was laughing a lot. It was going really well, and I was definitely feeling a connection.

I excused myself to use the restroom. I had just started to uh, get situated when I heard somone call my name. What on earth...? I thought.

I came out and saw Carolyn. She said she needed to talk to me. But after I was done doing what I needed to do. Ok.....

I was washing my hands when she said she followed me to the bathroom because Mark had a good time talking to me and wanted to get my phone number. She said he was a really nice guy and he is single...etc. etc. I said, "Ok, sounds good to me! I was actually kind of hoping he was my date!" (Mark was pretty cute! I was glad to know he wasn't married or anything.) And then began a frantic search for a pen/piece of paper. This was made all the more difficult by Carolyn's drunken ramblings. "Ok, ok! Let's do this! I'm on another date!" I wanted to say to her. Of course, as luck would have it, I had neither pen nor paper. Carolyn didn't have anything with her. By this point, it was getting kind of obvious that I was taking a long time to pee, which made me panic even more. Finally I stuck my head out of the bathroom, grabbed a busboy, took his pen and jotted my work email down on the back of one of those "Buy ten, get one free" punch cards I found in my wallet. (I'm not big on giving my number out freely. Email is safer.) I shoved it in Carolyn's hand and jetted out of the bathroom.

Dan looked at me a little suspiciously. I told him a crazy drunk lady cornered me in the bathroom and made me listen to her marital problems. Which is mostly true. (I hate lying! But I really couldn't tell the truth, right?!) Dan went to the bathroom, so I took that opportunity to check my cell messages. TOTGA had called. I couldn't hear the message, and then I accidentally deleted it. Shoot! Oh well. When he came back, Dan invited me to go eat dinner with him and some of his friends, which I normally would have done, but I thought I had dinner plans with TOTGA.

Soon Dan and I left. I didn't get a chance to make eye contact with Mark before leaving. I didn't really have any good opportunities. I'm hoping that won't deter him!

Being a playa is hard work!!!

I called TOTGA back, but got his voice mail. I left a message, but he never called me back. I guess what goes around comes around.

The Sick Day & The Eccentric Aunt

Ug. I don't feel so hot. I just want to lay on my couch and veg. But I have so much to share--the blog must go on!

Last night MIA started texting me at 11:15pm. I am a firm believer that anyone who only texts after a certain time of day wants one thing only. He wanted to know if I was mad at him. I texted that I'm tired of late night drunk texting and I didn't think it was too much to ask to be called on the phone and asked out for a real date. Basically, cut the crap and put your money where your mouth is. Then I went to bed. This morning I got up to find 3 new texts and 4 new phone calls. They were all from him. Oh. My. God. I could tell from the messages that he felt really bad, so I called him to explain myself a little better since I was pretty sure this was just a miscommunication. So I explained to him that if he is really interested in me, he would call me, not text me, and ask me out rather than drunk dial me. He apologized and said that was not what he was trying to do. Then he offered to bring me some soup since I was sick. I said ok. That's what I'm waiting for right now. Otherwise I'd be asleep. I think he is actually making it from scratch, which is earning him mad crazy brownie points....I'll keep you posted.

In other news, I would like to introduce my best friend to this blog. She finally has Internet access after a long hiatus and so she will undoubtedly be leaving comments. She probably the funniest person I know. That's why I keep her around. Even though she calls me Madam Scrotum Snatch. She does this because it annoys me as there is NO REASON to call me this. In my defense, I call her Lady Starfish. So that is her nickname on this blog.

Also, I need to tell you about my aunt. Everyone has an eccentric aunt. Mine went abroad her junior year of college and has yet to return. She is in her fifties. She lives in Europe. She has a rather glamorous lifestyle when compared to her sister (my mom). Both of them are total control freaks. (But I still love them! My mom is awesome!) I don't know my aunt all that well, so I was surprised when she randomly emailed me the other day. Here is the important info from the email:

1. She was at a wedding where she met a young guy and his mother.
2. The son is a real estate mogul and the mother was some big power-suit wearing CEO of Palmolive. (Yeah, the dishwashing liquid). Now she is retired. But she has a book. One of them lives in Charleston--an hour or so from me.
3. My aunt made sure to tell them that I am dating someone so the son would not think I'm meeting him for dating purposes. (are you seeing where this is going?)
4. Auntie is getting the mother to send me a copy of her CEO businesswoman's guide book so that I may read it. (I have absolutely no desire to be a CEO businesswoman. Nor have I ever expressed any desire to do so.)
5. Apparently, I will be meeting the mother and/or son sometime soon because Auntie wants the son to talk to me about getting into the real estate business. (Again, I have never expressed any interest in this career path.)
6. Auntie is even sending me money to buy a new outfit to wear when I meet them.

Are you scratching your head yet? Because I am. Is it a romantic fix-up? Is it a career guidance session? Do I get any say in my own adult life? Because last time I checked, I thought I was capable of making my own decisions. Or at least having a say in the ones she makes concerning my life! I'm not unhappy, so I don't see this as help, really, just interference. Do all eccentric aunts do this or just mine? Do I have a right to find this rude? What do I say when they ask about my boyfriend? I'm tempted to make up one who is incredibly handsome and totally in love with me. How do I fake interest in career fields which hold no appeal to me? Keep in mind I do not know how old the guy is or even if he is single. If this goes badly, she might get mad at me. Great. Anyone taking bets yet as to how awkward this is going to be for me?? Any advice or opinions would be much appreciated. But in any case, it sounds like good news for my hands, whether it's a lifetime supply of Palmolive or a shiny diamond ring! (Just kidding. I just noticed the irony in this situation.)

The Country Bar

Goddamn, you play a mean banjo! --Drew, Deliverance

Remember that banjo riff from that movie? Please keep it in mind as I tell you about last night...

I went with The Blonde Nurse and some of her coworkers to Saddle Ridge, one of the newest bars here in Columbia. I'm not big on country music, but it is a great place to people watch. There are a lot of regular people there, but I think they just come to people watch the rednecks like I do. Last night didn't disappoint. Collectively, we saw: a rat tail--on a woman!, a girl with a beer gut, a redneck who looked like a homeless Eric Clapton and (drumroll, please...) a guy with one tooth. It was one of those moments I like to call "Only in South Carolina!"

There were also some cowboy hats, which I have to say, can look really hot on the right guy--you can thank Tim McGraw for that one. Yee-ha, cowboy! Surprisingly, there were no mullets that I could see. I think mullets are good luck--whenever I see one, I have a great time.

I also met a guy who allows me to add to my list of advice to men everywhere. The list is called "Don't Be This Guy." Today I add: Never ever be the guy who goes to the bars alone. And if you do, do not hit on women. Why? Think about the men who are out alone after dark...they include: taxi drivers, muggers, serial rapists and pizza delivery guys. Do you really want to be part of this group? I didn't think so. I don't care how cute or nice you are, going out to the bars alone is just wierd.*

* I did run into MIA once in this way, but he knows everyone in town, so this is the lone exception. Plus, I already knew him, so he was non-threatening.