My parents are funny. For those of you that know them, you understand what I mean. They are probably the most conservative parents I've ever met. I don't mean that in a bad way...but it's true. This doesn't mean that my parents have huge MCCAIN signs in our yard, and when the slightest available moment to bring up politics presents itself they jump at it and let everyone know that Republicans are the best option. No, not that kind of political conservative (although they are). No I'm talking about how they are just conservative by nature. All drinking is bad. Smoking is too. Especially around my young, easily influenced, teenage brothers.
Now living at home with my parents makes me very aware that some of the stuff I am use to doing in college doesn't exactly fly here at home. Sometimes it bugs me and I try my best to please them and not disrupt their pleasant little world with my sinful habits. But...sometimes...it's my favorite past time :) And I may or may not do it just to get a reaction. Here's examples from the past couple weeks of me learning whats not ok...and my different attempts at still doing it.
1.) I decide to have a late night glass of wine. Go get my wine and start pouring a glass.
Mom- "What are you doing?"
Me- "Having a glass of wine."
Mom- "Why?"
Me- "Because I'm 21 and I can. Is that ok?"
Mom- " I don't really know why you feel like you need to have a glass."
Me- "I don't feel like I need to....I just want to. I'm not drowning my sorrows...I'm not drinking my cares away...I just want to have a glass."
Mom- She takes my wine glass and puts it up. "Well I don't want your brothers to see you drinking, so put it in a plastic cup."
Experience ruined. Try drinking red wine out of a UGA SEC Championship Cup and you'll understand.
2.) Second Wine Experience...I'm learning. Parents were gone to a PTA meeting...perfect time to have a glass of wine without being under my mother's disapproving eyes. So I have myself a glass while I work on some project late at night. All goes well. Brothers don't even realize I'm having one. Hear the parents come in.....swig the last sip. SUCCESS....glass a wine and no lecture. Forgot one thing though...the glass.
Mom comes in. Looks at the glass....looks at me. I smile and try to play innocent...and stupid.
"What's that? Did you have a glass of wine?" Her face was extremely downcast and her tone of voice was screaming (SIGH , I am so dissappointed)
"Oh ya....I was working on this project and thought I'd have some of my birthday wine."
Mom- " (SIGH) You really shouldn't start drinking during the week."
Awesome....mom thinks I'm an alcoholic! One glass of wine. One time this week.
Told you they were conservative.
3.) So the sneaky approach didn't work. Now I've just become blatant and going for some shock factor.
Last Night:
"Mom, Lauren and I are going to go to the Jacuzzi and have some wine and smoke the hookah with Zach...do you want to come?"
I say this as I walk downstairs with bottle of wine in hand. Hookah is like fancy cigar smoke...only it looks like a water bong..and my mother HATES THEM! I decided to hit her with two wammies.
She looks at me. Pauses.
"No, I'm good. But thanks sweetie."
SUCCESS!
(To give my mom some credit...she has been known to drink a margarita on occasion..but only when its just her and I. I'm slowly breaking her :) )
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Mad Traffic Skills
Traffic is bad. It just is. There is no way getting around it sometimes. It's like Fried chicken. It's always bad for you...no ifs ands or buts. That food will clog your arteries fast. Doesn't matter if you eat it in the morning...at night...or as a late night snack. It will eventually kill you. Same idea with traffic. In the morning...bad....afternoon...worse. And today was probably the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen! However, I made it home in just 35 min when it should have taken my probably an hour and a half. (oh yes I've sat in traffic that long)
What's my trick? While working in Atlanta I have developed and honed a new skill. A skill I like to call traffic wizardry. That's right, I have become a pro at rush hour. I'm the ruler of the roads......master of mayhem......highness of the highway.
Today's traffic seriously reminded me of what war in other countries must look like. About an hour before I left work I heard on the radio about a huge wreck over off of "highway to hell" right under Spaghetti Junction and I knew I was in for a treat! By the time I got off of work that impressive display of stupid driving would be backed up all the way to my exit. expletives. So I left work with my mind set....I WILL not sit and rot in traffic today. Not today. My day had already been extremely long and tiring...I just couldn't handle sitting in a parking lot that was suppose to be a highway.
And that's when I learned my amazing traffic avoiding skills. Its fascinating what you can do when you put your mind to it!
I saw those awful red brake lights backed up all the way to my exit....SEVERAL miles from supposed "worst wreck ever!". Also... it was raining which means people are dumber today. Don't ask me why...but you throw a little precipitation into rush hour and suddenly 5 year old's are behind the wheel, and I-85 turns into a bumper car version of Nascar; except cars don't bounce off of each other...they smash into one another and block off 3 lanes of traffic. That was my scenario here.
Three lanes taken victim.
Outlook...bad.
Also I could see a helicopter in the distance...perfect, this wreck is so awesome its newsworthy. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Then...as if a light bulb went off....I remembered...Access Roads. BRILLIANT! If my calculations were correct and if this wreck really did happen just under Spaghetti Junction...I had just enough access roads to circumvent this traffic jam. I started off....so far so good....over one exit...continuing along side absolutely stopped traffic. Guilt kicked in here. All those people are just sitting there slowly losing their minds and I'm flying by at a whopping 45 mph (that's fast for traffic) on an access road. And then I wondered...this is too good to be true...this must be illegal.
You know how cutting through parking lots to avoid lights is illegal...yet such a good idea...I felt that this is what I was doing. Any minute I would get pulled over and the cop would say, " Now missy, what makes you think that you can just drive around traffic when everyone else has to sit in it?"
At this point I didn't care. I had beat the system! After about 15 min or so of driving down access roads I pass over Spaghetti Junction (via access road) and saw the damage. Oh it was bad. Several blinking signs cutting off several lanes. No one was moving. Millions of police cars were there and a helicopter circled. As I watched them in my rear view mirror I got off the bridge and found myself amongst absolutely no traffic. It had all cleared up after the wreck.
I smiled,
then gave one huge fist pump of victory and laughed in traffic's face. After all...traffic always wins in the morning. But sometimes....if I stay on my toes...I get the last laugh at the end of the day.
I pulled into my driveway utterly satisfied and feeling somewhat powerful...genius if you will. And that, my friends, is how you become master of the roads.
(I should be getting that award any day)
What's my trick? While working in Atlanta I have developed and honed a new skill. A skill I like to call traffic wizardry. That's right, I have become a pro at rush hour. I'm the ruler of the roads......master of mayhem......highness of the highway.
Today's traffic seriously reminded me of what war in other countries must look like. About an hour before I left work I heard on the radio about a huge wreck over off of "highway to hell" right under Spaghetti Junction and I knew I was in for a treat! By the time I got off of work that impressive display of stupid driving would be backed up all the way to my exit. expletives. So I left work with my mind set....I WILL not sit and rot in traffic today. Not today. My day had already been extremely long and tiring...I just couldn't handle sitting in a parking lot that was suppose to be a highway.
And that's when I learned my amazing traffic avoiding skills. Its fascinating what you can do when you put your mind to it!
I saw those awful red brake lights backed up all the way to my exit....SEVERAL miles from supposed "worst wreck ever!". Also... it was raining which means people are dumber today. Don't ask me why...but you throw a little precipitation into rush hour and suddenly 5 year old's are behind the wheel, and I-85 turns into a bumper car version of Nascar; except cars don't bounce off of each other...they smash into one another and block off 3 lanes of traffic. That was my scenario here.
Three lanes taken victim.
Outlook...bad.
Also I could see a helicopter in the distance...perfect, this wreck is so awesome its newsworthy. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Then...as if a light bulb went off....I remembered...Access Roads. BRILLIANT! If my calculations were correct and if this wreck really did happen just under Spaghetti Junction...I had just enough access roads to circumvent this traffic jam. I started off....so far so good....over one exit...continuing along side absolutely stopped traffic. Guilt kicked in here. All those people are just sitting there slowly losing their minds and I'm flying by at a whopping 45 mph (that's fast for traffic) on an access road. And then I wondered...this is too good to be true...this must be illegal.
You know how cutting through parking lots to avoid lights is illegal...yet such a good idea...I felt that this is what I was doing. Any minute I would get pulled over and the cop would say, " Now missy, what makes you think that you can just drive around traffic when everyone else has to sit in it?"
At this point I didn't care. I had beat the system! After about 15 min or so of driving down access roads I pass over Spaghetti Junction (via access road) and saw the damage. Oh it was bad. Several blinking signs cutting off several lanes. No one was moving. Millions of police cars were there and a helicopter circled. As I watched them in my rear view mirror I got off the bridge and found myself amongst absolutely no traffic. It had all cleared up after the wreck.
I smiled,
then gave one huge fist pump of victory and laughed in traffic's face. After all...traffic always wins in the morning. But sometimes....if I stay on my toes...I get the last laugh at the end of the day.
I pulled into my driveway utterly satisfied and feeling somewhat powerful...genius if you will. And that, my friends, is how you become master of the roads.
(I should be getting that award any day)
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Automatic Failure
You know those things in life that no matter how hard you try if one thing goes bad than the whole thing is just an automatic failure.
You play really awesome in the soccer game...however, you score in your own goal. Automatic Failure.
You look amazing and said everything right in the interview, but you trip on your way out the door. Automatic Failure.
That's how I feel about buses. I can get ready as fast as possible...be out the door on time....showered....ate breakfast....but if I pull off my street and that big yellow bus passes by in front of me....AUTOMATIC FAILURE!
Oh how I hate the bus. My heart literally drops and I fight every urge to bang on my steering wheel and yell obscenities when I get stuck behind the neighborhood bus. I plan my life around the bus. I know exactly when that thing comes down my street...to the minute. I know I have about 3 minutes to haul it to my car and beat it out my drive way. Oh, and I will pull out in front of one, without a moments hesitation, because I know that getting stuck behind the heifer will tag on at least 10 min to my drive time. And when you already sit in traffic for an hour....10 min can just about kill you. And if that doesn't, than my blood pressure will.
So today...doing good. Ready. Packed a lunch (bonus points!). Headed out the door and I see the object of my utter hatred pass by my house...almost as if to mock my good morning. Obscenities...run to my car and peal out in hopes to pass it somewhere along the way. (Which that never happens...once behind a buss...always behind the dag um bus). As I drive I hope and pray that maybe this bus has extra stops on some side streets that I don't go on. Futile to hope. Or maybe...the bus driver is super speedy today and by the time I get on the main road he has flown down the street...doors wide open with kids jumping in as he goes. Kind of like the strongest survive. Kids that don't make the jump...no school. Good luck tomorrow. I think we should put that idea to work.
Much to my chagrin...bus is poking along down the Main drive...which I'm pretty sure that's a requirement for bus drivers. Must be monotonously slow. And of course..this bus is not a high school bus...which would then speed up the process because those kids are like pros at this by now.
How long you been riding?
Oh you know...10 years.
Wow!
ya..its a skill.
No. No professional riders. This bus is for elementary. Might as well call the "take absolutely forever because these kids can barely walk let alone get on the bus and their mothers are crying and must wave 19 times to their 'baby' on their 4th day to school" bus.
Bitter..you bet.
So....little johnny is waiting by the driveway with mom. So I immediately feel bad for getting angry. Mom waves...johnny walks to the bus. Mom waves some more...puts her hand to her mouth as if to stifle a cry. (please) And then ensues the longest 5 min of my life. I don't know what went on in that bus.After johnny got on I swear the bus just stayed there and hung out for another 5 min just to make me angry...and late. I sat there wondering what could have happened....Johnny trip and wipe out ...is he waving out every window to mommy dearest as he makes his way to the back...did he drop his lunch...or is the bus driver just leaving ample time for the mom to cut the invisible umbilical cords and let her baby go to school! Meanwhile, the mom is still furiously waving at the non moving school bus and notices the backed up traffic.
She smiles at me.
I smile back...and whisper words of disdain under my breath.
FINALLY the bus moves....I smile and wave at the mom, meanwhile, making a mental note of what time Johnny gets on the bus and how I will never again leave my house at 7:34 ever again.
You play really awesome in the soccer game...however, you score in your own goal. Automatic Failure.
You look amazing and said everything right in the interview, but you trip on your way out the door. Automatic Failure.
That's how I feel about buses. I can get ready as fast as possible...be out the door on time....showered....ate breakfast....but if I pull off my street and that big yellow bus passes by in front of me....AUTOMATIC FAILURE!
Oh how I hate the bus. My heart literally drops and I fight every urge to bang on my steering wheel and yell obscenities when I get stuck behind the neighborhood bus. I plan my life around the bus. I know exactly when that thing comes down my street...to the minute. I know I have about 3 minutes to haul it to my car and beat it out my drive way. Oh, and I will pull out in front of one, without a moments hesitation, because I know that getting stuck behind the heifer will tag on at least 10 min to my drive time. And when you already sit in traffic for an hour....10 min can just about kill you. And if that doesn't, than my blood pressure will.
So today...doing good. Ready. Packed a lunch (bonus points!). Headed out the door and I see the object of my utter hatred pass by my house...almost as if to mock my good morning. Obscenities...run to my car and peal out in hopes to pass it somewhere along the way. (Which that never happens...once behind a buss...always behind the dag um bus). As I drive I hope and pray that maybe this bus has extra stops on some side streets that I don't go on. Futile to hope. Or maybe...the bus driver is super speedy today and by the time I get on the main road he has flown down the street...doors wide open with kids jumping in as he goes. Kind of like the strongest survive. Kids that don't make the jump...no school. Good luck tomorrow. I think we should put that idea to work.
Much to my chagrin...bus is poking along down the Main drive...which I'm pretty sure that's a requirement for bus drivers. Must be monotonously slow. And of course..this bus is not a high school bus...which would then speed up the process because those kids are like pros at this by now.
How long you been riding?
Oh you know...10 years.
Wow!
ya..its a skill.
No. No professional riders. This bus is for elementary. Might as well call the "take absolutely forever because these kids can barely walk let alone get on the bus and their mothers are crying and must wave 19 times to their 'baby' on their 4th day to school" bus.
Bitter..you bet.
So....little johnny is waiting by the driveway with mom. So I immediately feel bad for getting angry. Mom waves...johnny walks to the bus. Mom waves some more...puts her hand to her mouth as if to stifle a cry. (please) And then ensues the longest 5 min of my life. I don't know what went on in that bus.After johnny got on I swear the bus just stayed there and hung out for another 5 min just to make me angry...and late. I sat there wondering what could have happened....Johnny trip and wipe out ...is he waving out every window to mommy dearest as he makes his way to the back...did he drop his lunch...or is the bus driver just leaving ample time for the mom to cut the invisible umbilical cords and let her baby go to school! Meanwhile, the mom is still furiously waving at the non moving school bus and notices the backed up traffic.
She smiles at me.
I smile back...and whisper words of disdain under my breath.
FINALLY the bus moves....I smile and wave at the mom, meanwhile, making a mental note of what time Johnny gets on the bus and how I will never again leave my house at 7:34 ever again.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Low Blow
Well a good thing can't last too long. I was feeling pretty good about myself because of my award. Told the mom that I had my award hanging up in my office...very proud.
She replied, "You mean storage room."
Shot down.
Low blow mom. Low blow.
She replied, "You mean storage room."
Shot down.
Low blow mom. Low blow.
Fridge Worthy
Today has probably been my favorite morning ever!
"Why?" you may ask...especially when mornings usually carry with them some of the lowest points of the day: waking up, getting up, moving, showering, traffic and the most infamous....going to work.
However, upon my arrival to work I found a present!
That's right...a present....left in my chair.
Someone snuck into my storage room (ha someone remembered I worked in here) and left me a gift! My present was sitting upon a piece of paper...my curiosity was up.
The paper ended up being an Award!! Oh my day just got 10 times better. Only thing better than a gift is an award!
I was pumped...what could this award be for?? I pick it up and this is what it read.
Wait. To preface my award...remember that I just returned from spending a week in a Warehouse moving Christmas crap. We joked the whole week that work gloves could give you super powers. Our boss would put those bad boys on and there was no stopping her. We'd look over and she would be lifting things three time her size...hauling crates with Floyd in tow. She also was the hardest business woman ever when the gloves were on. When we were pricing things she didn't really get the idea of a "garage sale" and was more concerned with making money off of the junk.
" Denise....$5 dollars for this snowman right?"
" No...are you crazy! $30. Not a penny less!"
"But...his arms are broken and he doesn't have any eyes."
"I don't care. $30 dollars!"
Hence our fear when Boss would "put on her gloves". It was about the same concept as a superhero putting on their cape or mask....there was no stopping someone with the gloves on. Overpriced junk and heavy lifting usually followed in their path of destruction.
So...my award read:
For your amazig ability to withstand the heat, lift heavy objects, work on a weeked, endure Floyd's extreme body odor, and "put on the gloves," I hereby award you the well deserved Work Glove Award.
(paper decorated with work gloves.)
I laughed out loud. My Boss was funny. I don't want to work somewhere where no one gives out awards.
Despite what the award was for...which is quirky office appreciation...I felt really proud of myself. I had a flash back of school Awards Day and the anticipation and joy of winning awards like "The Bible Award"..."Star Student"....."Perfect Attendance" (HA who are we kidding I NEVER got that one!) etc.
I called my mom and let her know her baby girl was making it in the real world...I had even gotten an award for doing so well. She laughed and then in all seriousness she said, "we should frame it."
Again flash back to middle school when your parents put the "Most Improved" Award up on the fridge and make a big deal because you got an award. However, it might as well be called "You really sucked in the beginning, but your decent now" award.
The parent trick worked though....this is definately making an appearance on the fridge.
"Why?" you may ask...especially when mornings usually carry with them some of the lowest points of the day: waking up, getting up, moving, showering, traffic and the most infamous....going to work.
However, upon my arrival to work I found a present!
That's right...a present....left in my chair.
Someone snuck into my storage room (ha someone remembered I worked in here) and left me a gift! My present was sitting upon a piece of paper...my curiosity was up.
The paper ended up being an Award!! Oh my day just got 10 times better. Only thing better than a gift is an award!
I was pumped...what could this award be for?? I pick it up and this is what it read.
Wait. To preface my award...remember that I just returned from spending a week in a Warehouse moving Christmas crap. We joked the whole week that work gloves could give you super powers. Our boss would put those bad boys on and there was no stopping her. We'd look over and she would be lifting things three time her size...hauling crates with Floyd in tow. She also was the hardest business woman ever when the gloves were on. When we were pricing things she didn't really get the idea of a "garage sale" and was more concerned with making money off of the junk.
" Denise....$5 dollars for this snowman right?"
" No...are you crazy! $30. Not a penny less!"
"But...his arms are broken and he doesn't have any eyes."
"I don't care. $30 dollars!"
Hence our fear when Boss would "put on her gloves". It was about the same concept as a superhero putting on their cape or mask....there was no stopping someone with the gloves on. Overpriced junk and heavy lifting usually followed in their path of destruction.
So...my award read:
For your amazig ability to withstand the heat, lift heavy objects, work on a weeked, endure Floyd's extreme body odor, and "put on the gloves," I hereby award you the well deserved Work Glove Award.
(paper decorated with work gloves.)
I laughed out loud. My Boss was funny. I don't want to work somewhere where no one gives out awards.
Despite what the award was for...which is quirky office appreciation...I felt really proud of myself. I had a flash back of school Awards Day and the anticipation and joy of winning awards like "The Bible Award"..."Star Student"....."Perfect Attendance" (HA who are we kidding I NEVER got that one!) etc.
I called my mom and let her know her baby girl was making it in the real world...I had even gotten an award for doing so well. She laughed and then in all seriousness she said, "we should frame it."
Again flash back to middle school when your parents put the "Most Improved" Award up on the fridge and make a big deal because you got an award. However, it might as well be called "You really sucked in the beginning, but your decent now" award.
The parent trick worked though....this is definately making an appearance on the fridge.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Because she's Fuzzy
This week my department had to leave the city and go into an undisclosed city South of Atlanta. Now making the statement "South of Atlanta" should fill most of you in on the kind of town we were in without me even stating the name. Another synonym could be Po-Dunk Ville. OK ...that's not true..they did have a Panera.
I was impressed.
Anyway...my job for the week was to clean out an old warehouse where we had been storing things for probably the past 10 years or so. Mainly Christmas stuff. Mainly really old tacky Christmas crap. We spent two days organizing it and then we were going to have a HUGE glorified 'garage sale' in Po-Dunk Ville. I doubted the success of this plan..honestly. However, I failed to realize that in before mentioned 'Po Dunk' the only thing to do on the weekends is drive around looking for 'garage sales.'
Day one I really realized what kind of town this was. My boss and I were meeting another co worker at the warehouse to help sort through stuff, however she beat us down there. We finally get to "Po dunk" and upon driving through I realize that our warehouse is in the armpit of Georgia. We drive down some old country roads.. not like the cute ones in Athens...more like the ones you see in those horror flicks where the whole town gets wiped out by a serial killer. We pull up to the sorriest excuse for a building..complete with over grown weeds..broken down cars...and a cliche country lady smoking a cig out front on her smoking break. Immediately my heart drops. I have to spend all week here! And then I remember co worker has been here for a couple hours by herself! Ugh..i felt bad. We walk in the very dimly lit crate filled warehouse and see coworker plugging away hard at work. Following her around are these two old men who I suppose either own it or are suppose to be helping. Immediately I assess the awkwardness of poor coworker having to work in such close quarters with these random men. We get closer and I get to meet Floyd. Yes...Floyd. I smiled when he introduced himself...and then immediately tried not to grimace when Floyd smiled and showed a full set of gums. Oh Po Dunk ville...the land of no teeth.
Floyd is now my favorite person because he absolutely embodies the mental image of country bumpkin for me.
White T-shirt..probably worn the past 3 days. At least it smelled like it.
Blue jeans...well worn.
Skinny as a rail. Or according to Floyd, "only 3 lbs more than I weighed when I was seventeen."
No teeth
Very wrinkly- looks like he is about 80.
Smokes like a chimney (I counted...packed his pipe 4-5 times in less than an hour.)
Hardest worker I've ever seen.
A good adjective would be gritty.
I also noticed another creature. A dog. Not just any dog...part dog probably part wolf. She was very shaggy...had a brindle coat,jet black head, and wolf tale. Floyd patted her on the head, pulled his pipe out of his mouth and said..."we call her Fuzz."
Now I took linguistics this year...most ridiculous class ever..but I did learn valuable information...information that I had not put to good use until this moment. In order to make the "f" sound...one must use put their lips against their teeth and blow. When one doesn't have teeth this sound becomes very hard to make. So I awkwardly couldn't tell if he was saying Fuzz or Buzz.
"Oh her name is Buzz," I stated.
"No...Fuzz. (still sounding like Buzz) Because she's Fuzzy," he replied.
I smiled.
The simplicity of the name and stereotypical people and scenery made me.
From this moment I knew...this week was going to be funny.
I was impressed.
Anyway...my job for the week was to clean out an old warehouse where we had been storing things for probably the past 10 years or so. Mainly Christmas stuff. Mainly really old tacky Christmas crap. We spent two days organizing it and then we were going to have a HUGE glorified 'garage sale' in Po-Dunk Ville. I doubted the success of this plan..honestly. However, I failed to realize that in before mentioned 'Po Dunk' the only thing to do on the weekends is drive around looking for 'garage sales.'
Day one I really realized what kind of town this was. My boss and I were meeting another co worker at the warehouse to help sort through stuff, however she beat us down there. We finally get to "Po dunk" and upon driving through I realize that our warehouse is in the armpit of Georgia. We drive down some old country roads.. not like the cute ones in Athens...more like the ones you see in those horror flicks where the whole town gets wiped out by a serial killer. We pull up to the sorriest excuse for a building..complete with over grown weeds..broken down cars...and a cliche country lady smoking a cig out front on her smoking break. Immediately my heart drops. I have to spend all week here! And then I remember co worker has been here for a couple hours by herself! Ugh..i felt bad. We walk in the very dimly lit crate filled warehouse and see coworker plugging away hard at work. Following her around are these two old men who I suppose either own it or are suppose to be helping. Immediately I assess the awkwardness of poor coworker having to work in such close quarters with these random men. We get closer and I get to meet Floyd. Yes...Floyd. I smiled when he introduced himself...and then immediately tried not to grimace when Floyd smiled and showed a full set of gums. Oh Po Dunk ville...the land of no teeth.
Floyd is now my favorite person because he absolutely embodies the mental image of country bumpkin for me.
White T-shirt..probably worn the past 3 days. At least it smelled like it.
Blue jeans...well worn.
Skinny as a rail. Or according to Floyd, "only 3 lbs more than I weighed when I was seventeen."
No teeth
Very wrinkly- looks like he is about 80.
Smokes like a chimney (I counted...packed his pipe 4-5 times in less than an hour.)
Hardest worker I've ever seen.
A good adjective would be gritty.
I also noticed another creature. A dog. Not just any dog...part dog probably part wolf. She was very shaggy...had a brindle coat,jet black head, and wolf tale. Floyd patted her on the head, pulled his pipe out of his mouth and said..."we call her Fuzz."
Now I took linguistics this year...most ridiculous class ever..but I did learn valuable information...information that I had not put to good use until this moment. In order to make the "f" sound...one must use put their lips against their teeth and blow. When one doesn't have teeth this sound becomes very hard to make. So I awkwardly couldn't tell if he was saying Fuzz or Buzz.
"Oh her name is Buzz," I stated.
"No...Fuzz. (still sounding like Buzz) Because she's Fuzzy," he replied.
I smiled.
The simplicity of the name and stereotypical people and scenery made me.
From this moment I knew...this week was going to be funny.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
The Heads
So the storage room today is just giving me the willies. (again another word you use when your aging. I'm going to throw those in there every now and again to see if your paying attention) I walk in this morning and there are our giant mascot outfits sitting on the table by my desk. (our company has mascots...don't ask) Anyway...any kind of mascot is creepy...ESPECIALLY when there isn't a person in it. You would never want to see Mickey Mouse without a person in it...it be like a dead Mickey. In our case its like a decapitated "Bob" and "Mary". (Bob and Mary will be what we call our boy and girl mascots.)
They had been chilling in the hall near their appropriate cubicles waiting to be fixed. Still creepy but not near my desk so it didn't bother me. However, it came to the attention of those in charge of Bob and Mary that letting them lye around in the open wasn't a good idea either. This occurred to them when there was child in the office the other day and they found her poking Bob's lifeless decapitated head. I laugh at this mental picture because it makes me think of what kids do when they find dead things...maybe if I poke it some more it will wake back up. So they decided that lifeless Bob and Mary may upset the kids....so now they are my new storage room buddies. I'm contemplating setting them up so I can pretend I have someone to talk to. Well...that actually may be creepier. In the mean time their creepy over sized blue (yup their blue) foam heads are staring at me.
And to tip over the creepy scale I found an abnormally large spider by my desk. However, he evaded me when I tried to kill him with some of my storage room supply. Eek.
So me and the Heads and the spider have had a good day.
That spider better be dead by tomorrow!
They had been chilling in the hall near their appropriate cubicles waiting to be fixed. Still creepy but not near my desk so it didn't bother me. However, it came to the attention of those in charge of Bob and Mary that letting them lye around in the open wasn't a good idea either. This occurred to them when there was child in the office the other day and they found her poking Bob's lifeless decapitated head. I laugh at this mental picture because it makes me think of what kids do when they find dead things...maybe if I poke it some more it will wake back up. So they decided that lifeless Bob and Mary may upset the kids....so now they are my new storage room buddies. I'm contemplating setting them up so I can pretend I have someone to talk to. Well...that actually may be creepier. In the mean time their creepy over sized blue (yup their blue) foam heads are staring at me.
And to tip over the creepy scale I found an abnormally large spider by my desk. However, he evaded me when I tried to kill him with some of my storage room supply. Eek.
So me and the Heads and the spider have had a good day.
That spider better be dead by tomorrow!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Brothers
I live at home with my three brothers. Well two brothers now, the oldest just went back to college. They are amazing and so much fun to be with! They are also one of the many reasons my life is so interesting. Over the past couple weeks I've been at home I have had some pretty hilarious converstations with them. Well, they didn't see the humor in them...but I did.
Here are just some snippets of conversations with the 20 year old Junior in college and the 16 Junior in highschool. I believe my favorite quotes will shed some light on who I live with at home.
(Talking over dinner about how my College age brother wants to hitch hike across the States some day.)
"Harrison, that's not a really safe thing to do." -me
"Umm its not like I'm going to be on the side of the road sticking my thumb out....(at this point I'm relieved that he is not that stupid)....I'm going to have a big back pack on with a sign."- harrison
(stated as if they other idea was the crazy one..I return to worrying)
"Yeah but what if some crazy person picks you up. You can't trust people these days. Its just not safe to get in the car with someone." -me
"Ok..but what would they want from me. I'm a 20 year old college kid. I'm backpacking..I don't have anything of value."- harrison
"It doesn't matter they could hurt you just for the sake of hurting you. Plus they could take your money."-me
"Why would I travel with money?!"-Harrison (again stated like I am stupid)
"Why wouldn't you have money?!" -me
"Well its not safe to travel by hitchhiking with a ton of money."-harrison
"What are you going to do when you get where your going without any money?"- me
(avoidance of question)
"Cam, people do it all the time! John hitched a ride after a Braves game all the way to Kansas with a family. I'm not going to get in a car with some sketchy guy."-harry
"Yeah, but you just never know. What if they end up being dangerous."-me
(said very matter-of-factly)"If he pulls a gun on me I'll just get out of the car at a red light. It's not like he is going to shoot me around people."- Harrison
(SERIOUSLY!)
"Oh yes that always works. If only people did that when they got mugged or kidnapped...just get out of the car."- me
(discussion ended here due to the fact that it was just getting RIDICULOUS!)
Conversation with 16 yr old about the girl he likes...this week.
"So did you kiss her last night?" (granted I've only heard of and seen this girl once.)
"Well sorta"- mitchell
"Sorta? Theres no such thing as "sort of". It's yes..or no. Did your lips touch hers?"- me
"Ok yes. But it was just a peck."-mitchell
"So does she love Jesus?"- me
"Um I don't know her that well Cam."- mitchell
(ahh highschool and all its skanky glory.)
Here are just some snippets of conversations with the 20 year old Junior in college and the 16 Junior in highschool. I believe my favorite quotes will shed some light on who I live with at home.
(Talking over dinner about how my College age brother wants to hitch hike across the States some day.)
"Harrison, that's not a really safe thing to do." -me
"Umm its not like I'm going to be on the side of the road sticking my thumb out....(at this point I'm relieved that he is not that stupid)....I'm going to have a big back pack on with a sign."- harrison
(stated as if they other idea was the crazy one..I return to worrying)
"Yeah but what if some crazy person picks you up. You can't trust people these days. Its just not safe to get in the car with someone." -me
"Ok..but what would they want from me. I'm a 20 year old college kid. I'm backpacking..I don't have anything of value."- harrison
"It doesn't matter they could hurt you just for the sake of hurting you. Plus they could take your money."-me
"Why would I travel with money?!"-Harrison (again stated like I am stupid)
"Why wouldn't you have money?!" -me
"Well its not safe to travel by hitchhiking with a ton of money."-harrison
"What are you going to do when you get where your going without any money?"- me
(avoidance of question)
"Cam, people do it all the time! John hitched a ride after a Braves game all the way to Kansas with a family. I'm not going to get in a car with some sketchy guy."-harry
"Yeah, but you just never know. What if they end up being dangerous."-me
(said very matter-of-factly)"If he pulls a gun on me I'll just get out of the car at a red light. It's not like he is going to shoot me around people."- Harrison
(SERIOUSLY!)
"Oh yes that always works. If only people did that when they got mugged or kidnapped...just get out of the car."- me
(discussion ended here due to the fact that it was just getting RIDICULOUS!)
Conversation with 16 yr old about the girl he likes...this week.
"So did you kiss her last night?" (granted I've only heard of and seen this girl once.)
"Well sorta"- mitchell
"Sorta? Theres no such thing as "sort of". It's yes..or no. Did your lips touch hers?"- me
"Ok yes. But it was just a peck."-mitchell
"So does she love Jesus?"- me
"Um I don't know her that well Cam."- mitchell
(ahh highschool and all its skanky glory.)
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Santa has a bad back
So as a part of my job description I have to make sure Santa can make a special appearance at the event I'm helping with. I got the joyful job of calling him today and got to talk to Santa personally (Although I believe Mrs. Clause picked up the phone). Needless to say I got the biggest kick out of it!
Sadly, Santa just had back surgery. (Didn't know Santa had a bad back...must be from the Chimneys) However, he assured me that soon he would be as good as new and able to "carry his big red sack." This statement was followed by a great jolly HO HO HO and I literally laughed on the phone..."in spite of myself."
So this is a reminder that Santa may be recovering from back surgery..but he is indeed doing his yearly rounds come Christmas!
Sadly, Santa just had back surgery. (Didn't know Santa had a bad back...must be from the Chimneys) However, he assured me that soon he would be as good as new and able to "carry his big red sack." This statement was followed by a great jolly HO HO HO and I literally laughed on the phone..."in spite of myself."
So this is a reminder that Santa may be recovering from back surgery..but he is indeed doing his yearly rounds come Christmas!
Monday, August 4, 2008
Eeyore
So these past two weeks or so I have been grieving. Grieving the death of my college years. I honestly didn't think it would be that hard. I viewed going into the real world as new and exciting adventure! New turns, new expectations, getting out there on my own. Now that I'm here I just want to crawl back in bed and wake up in my loft in Mell Hall and it be Freshman year again. OK..maybe not Freshman year. Maybe just go back to Junior Year. That was a good year.
I apologize to everyone who has had to be around me and my permanent gray cloud above my head. I've been sad and not joyful; and have had a tendency to randomly blurt out "I miss college." Followed by a huge sigh.
Whelp...like most situations when your sad you have the allotted grieving time, which dependant on your circumstance, is a certain amount of time one is allowed to be sad and depressed. This gives you a legit excuse for not being yourself. However, this allotted mourning time has a cut off and after that cut off you can become annoying for still being upset. (This ONLY applies to life change situations or just "rough" times not to the loss of a loved one) If you pass your grief cut off you start to loose friends because no one wants to be around an Eeyore. That's right...the sluggish animated donkey from Winnie the Pooh that was always losing his tail. (Which I believe explains his permanent down cast face)
This thought hit me last night as I sat on my parents couch at home utterly depressed and sad with my life. I'm not a sad depressing person and honestly being that person the past two weeks has been pretty miserable.
So, I decided last night that my grief period was over.
It had been about two weeks, which I feel is just the right amount of time. One week to realize the change....and the Second week to just be generally unhappy about it. So this is Monday of week three and I am done.
I've cried a little bit (which is a lot for me) I've eaten everything that would need to be consumed when your sad (aka TONS of ice cream). And I've been lazy when given the opportunity. So now, I am done. I am going to make the best of this next stage and stop looking over my shoulder and crying wishing I was still living the college life. I graduated and moved and I am going to be OK with it.
I've learned that setting goals for each week helps me make my adjustment. Last week's goal was to not come home directly from work and fall asleep for 3 hours.
Accomplished.
This weeks goals: (I actually have three which may be over my head..but we shall see)
1. Don't complain about growing up.
2. Work out after work (makes you happier!)
3. Spend time with the Lord in the morning to start the day off right
Dad was informing me that quiet time in the morning before a big day at work is always better than doing it when you get home. I've known this to be true for years, however my earlier belief that "as much sleep as possible is best" has kept me from doing it.
So now I guess I have four: Get up earlier.
Goals...that's another thing you do when you get older.
(insert complaint I'm not allowed to make here__________________)
I apologize to everyone who has had to be around me and my permanent gray cloud above my head. I've been sad and not joyful; and have had a tendency to randomly blurt out "I miss college." Followed by a huge sigh.
Whelp...like most situations when your sad you have the allotted grieving time, which dependant on your circumstance, is a certain amount of time one is allowed to be sad and depressed. This gives you a legit excuse for not being yourself. However, this allotted mourning time has a cut off and after that cut off you can become annoying for still being upset. (This ONLY applies to life change situations or just "rough" times not to the loss of a loved one) If you pass your grief cut off you start to loose friends because no one wants to be around an Eeyore. That's right...the sluggish animated donkey from Winnie the Pooh that was always losing his tail. (Which I believe explains his permanent down cast face)
This thought hit me last night as I sat on my parents couch at home utterly depressed and sad with my life. I'm not a sad depressing person and honestly being that person the past two weeks has been pretty miserable.
So, I decided last night that my grief period was over.
It had been about two weeks, which I feel is just the right amount of time. One week to realize the change....and the Second week to just be generally unhappy about it. So this is Monday of week three and I am done.
I've cried a little bit (which is a lot for me) I've eaten everything that would need to be consumed when your sad (aka TONS of ice cream). And I've been lazy when given the opportunity. So now, I am done. I am going to make the best of this next stage and stop looking over my shoulder and crying wishing I was still living the college life. I graduated and moved and I am going to be OK with it.
I've learned that setting goals for each week helps me make my adjustment. Last week's goal was to not come home directly from work and fall asleep for 3 hours.
Accomplished.
This weeks goals: (I actually have three which may be over my head..but we shall see)
1. Don't complain about growing up.
2. Work out after work (makes you happier!)
3. Spend time with the Lord in the morning to start the day off right
Dad was informing me that quiet time in the morning before a big day at work is always better than doing it when you get home. I've known this to be true for years, however my earlier belief that "as much sleep as possible is best" has kept me from doing it.
So now I guess I have four: Get up earlier.
Goals...that's another thing you do when you get older.
(insert complaint I'm not allowed to make here__________________)
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