Ever have a day where you wish you could be wearing someone else's shoes? And not because they were cuter or snazzier than your own. But simply because walking around in yours is just not where you want to be right now. Maybe you have lost a loved one. Maybe you are worried about something at work or with your family. Maybe you are nursing a broken heart. Maybe you are upset about Justin Beiber's scuffle at that Laser Tag place this weekend...really it could be anything. You are just walking around with something - or maybe too many things - in your head or on your heart.
At the risk of sounding overly cheesy, it's always a personal goal of mine to keep that thought in mind with me every single day. When I come across the lawyer who yells at me, or the guy who pushes past me on the Metro, or the woman who is rude to me at the grocery store. Maybe there's a reason....maybe they are going through something difficult or there is something too big on their plate at the moment and carrying that all around AND being a nice person at the same time is just too much for them right now.
Sometimes that is what is so comforting or reassuring about coming here and reading other people's postings. You get a feeling that you aren't alone. Even if right now you don't want to write about or talk about whatever is troubling you at the moment...you can walk in someone else's shoes for a few minutes. And maybe those are happy shoes that can let you forget about your troubles for a bit. Or maybe they are sad shoes that give you a little more perspective on your own worries and where they fit in the bigger picture of it all.
So today is just a day where I don't have anything funny or special to post. Just thankful I can come here and walk in some other pairs of shoes for a bit.
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Monday, October 18, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Woeful Weekend, now what?
It’s Monday. If you live/work in DC chances are you won’t be reading this because it is a Federal Holiday and you have the day off from work. So hopefully you are out and about enjoying the great weather today. Reason #1,653 to hate my law firm life – no observance of Federal Holidays.
To make this day just that much more enjoyable, WMATA planned major track work on the Blue/Orange lines that would keep all the stations near my office out of commission over the weekend (no big deal) and then also today (uh…how am I going to get to work?) My normal bus route also doesn’t run on Holidays (seriously Columbus, you are really screwing with my day today) so I had to plan a complicated alternate route into work today. The little 4.5 mile distance between my apartment and my office ended up taking roughly 2 hours. Really, I should have just walked.
So all this free time on my hands this morning gave me too much time to do what I am a gold medalist at -- thinking too much and worrying.
I emailed two close friends recently, not really to discuss anything in particular let alone anything that I have on my plate right now (because sometimes you know better than to burden other people) but I referenced this sort of funk I go through every year – Birthday Hangover. The BH has nothing to do with if there were any real fun celebrations or activities that one would need to actually recover from (although I was so very happy that this year there were.) I think I tend to view all my adult birthdays as my own annual performance review for my life – what progress has been made, what goals have been accomplished, what are the areas for improvement, where might there be cause for concern. And someone else should really start doing these reviews for me because I am way too harsh on myself for my own good. (And as a side note, no, I was not as harsh on Temp Assistant!)
Saturday was kind of a sad day. I can’t say that it was any one thing. Probably more of a culmination of the feeling of too many things going on or too many worries lately. So I just spent the day alone. Like all alone, did not leave my apt, alone. I can be a bit of a hermit sometimes, usually it passes just as quickly as it happens. I was supposed to go out that night, but the plans fell through and I guess it was just as well. I probably wasn’t great company for anyone anyway.
Yesterday I tried for a better day. I forced myself up early and out of the apartment to run errands. Between groceries and other bags there was too much stuff to take up in one trip. First trip done and I thought “Oh it would be smart to take the trash out when I go for the rest of the bags!” So I did, feeling pretty darn proud of my being so effective and efficient. And I guess to balance out all that smart thinking, I realized on the way back from the car to the apartment that I my apt keys were back IN the apartment. That’s right, I had managed to lock myself out.
Yes, I keep my car and apartment keys separate (because I only ever drive on the weekends.) Yesterday I was just grateful I at least had my key card to get into the apt building. I am guessing from the crack on it that it had managed to break OFF of my apt key ring – awesome.
“Ok,” I thought quite calmly, “I will just go to the Property Manager’s apartment and pay the fine and get let back in. Sh*t happens, what can you do.” So I went to their apt (located in my own building thankfully) and knocked. I saw their one car outside which was a good sign, and I could hear the television on through the door. So I knocked again. I knocked LOUDER. I used the actual Door Knocker (maybe they were being a stickler about that?) and NOTHING. No response. I was knocking at all sorts of levels in various patterns and with varying amounts of force for a good 30-40 minutes. I tried knocking on other people’s doors and no one answered. Probably just as well because what was I going to ask them to do for me?
Now I panicked. What was I going to do? I had no phone to call anyone and didn't even have my wallet, it was all locked up safe and sound in the apt. Roommate was not going to be home for another couple days. I had the car key, the key card for the building, the shopping bags and that’s it. So I hauled my shopping bags back OUT to my car, got in and drove to my friend K’s apt. Literally praying Hail Marys out loud in the car to both calm myself down and ask God to please do me a solid and have her be at her apt.
I parked the car and ran up to the door…and could not for the LIFE OF ME remember her apartment number. So I just started dialing the different numbers on her floor – hey, at least I knew the right floor. And sometimes people would pick up, and sometimes they wouldn’t. Sometimes they spoke English, most times they didn’t. A few people got very nasty with me. One told me to leave before they called the police -- in hindsight, maybe I should have let them as my next thoughts involved going to a police station cause I didn’t know what else to do at that point. So after yelling her name a few times on the verrrrrryyyyyyy off chance she could hear me, I gave up and went back to my car. I got in and shut the door and just cried.
Cried because I was frustrated with myself and the situation. Cried because I seriously had nowhere to go and didn’t know what else to do. Sadly we have NO friendly neighbors in our apt. building. Not one. We have 2 groups that are always outside smoking so I thought maybe I could ask one of them if I could use their phone. But who would I call? The only number I know by heart anymore is my Pop-Pop’s. And he lives in New Jersey, so I don’t know what he could do to help me.
I was driving back to my apt, still crying because I felt so very alone. I didn’t have anyone who might try and text/call me and get concerned if I didn’t respond. I had no one expecting me somewhere on a lovely Sunday evening. I had nowhere to go and no one to worry about me.
Rational Deviled Megs was trying to think:
“Well couldn’t I just sleep in my car if I have to?”
“Hopefully the Prop Mgr will be better about answering their door during normal business hours tomorrow.”
“What if I sleep in the hallway outside my apt - will one of my crappy neighbors have a heart and realize something is wrong and offer to call the Prop Mgr for me?”
But she was getting wayyyyyyyyy overshadowed by Anxious & Worrisome Deviled Megs:
“Wait, is the Prop Mgr office going to be closed for Columbus day?!?”
“I can’t believe I know no one’s phone number that could help in a time like this.”
“Where can I go? I have a car but do I seriously have no place to go??”
“I can’t remember when I have ever felt this alone and helpless.”
And that last statement is a doozy. Because I do just about everything on my own and have for a loooooong time. I had a thought a while back that I was getting worried that just because I have gotten so adept at being self sufficient and independent that people just expect me to be okay that way, or worse, think that I really enjoy it. I do enjoy that I have the capability to do it. I don’t enjoy that yesterday I realized I could be in trouble or need help and have no one to worry about me or come looking for me.
Then Rational Deviled Megs took over and said, “This is bullsh*t. Someone is HOME in the Prop Mgr’s apt. So I will go back there and bang on that door until someone answers dammit!”
Which is what I did. Banged and pounded on the door for about 20-25 more minutes until I then started shouting AT the door. I had even found a pen and paper in my car and scribbled a PLEASE HELP note that I was ready to slide under their door until the Prop Mgr’s husband finally answered the door. And gave me such an angry “Why are you interrupting my watching football look” that I started to cry again. As I explained my situation I think he genuinely felt bad for me and gave me the keys to go upstairs and let myself back in to my apt.
I have never run up those stairs so fast in my life. When I got inside the door I felt such a wash of relief I almost needed to sit down. I collected myself and went back downstairs to return the keys. I thanked him profusely and returned back upstairs to my apartment.
And like that, I was alone again. I was still kind of upset about the whole ordeal and called my Mom. No answer. She regularly screens calls and sometimes I don’t make the cut so I didn’t even feel like trying to call her other line. And calling my Dad (if he even answered) would have gotten me a long lecture about how to NOT lock myself out of the apt.
I tried convincing a friend to come have drinks with me, watch some football/baseball. As usual, I got a “No.” Another friend was off on a date, so…back to being alone. At least now I was INSIDE my apartment, so it was definitely an improvement over crying in my car, don’t get me wrong. But you know when you have something bad happen, or even just a crap awful day, and the last thing you want or really even need is to be left all alone. That was me last night.
I don’t really know how to wrap this up and give it all some positive uplifting ending. I don’t feel horrible about the getting locked out (I mean, sh*t happens) and I don’t feel like “woe is me” that I didn't have anyone to turn to at the time. But I do feel….something. I wish I knew how to describe it so maybe I could start to UNfeel it.
Is there anyone else out there who has felt something like this before with some words of wisdom? And don’t tell me how to NOT lock myself out of the apt. in the future, my Dad’s got that one covered.
To make this day just that much more enjoyable, WMATA planned major track work on the Blue/Orange lines that would keep all the stations near my office out of commission over the weekend (no big deal) and then also today (uh…how am I going to get to work?) My normal bus route also doesn’t run on Holidays (seriously Columbus, you are really screwing with my day today) so I had to plan a complicated alternate route into work today. The little 4.5 mile distance between my apartment and my office ended up taking roughly 2 hours. Really, I should have just walked.
So all this free time on my hands this morning gave me too much time to do what I am a gold medalist at -- thinking too much and worrying.
I emailed two close friends recently, not really to discuss anything in particular let alone anything that I have on my plate right now (because sometimes you know better than to burden other people) but I referenced this sort of funk I go through every year – Birthday Hangover. The BH has nothing to do with if there were any real fun celebrations or activities that one would need to actually recover from (although I was so very happy that this year there were.) I think I tend to view all my adult birthdays as my own annual performance review for my life – what progress has been made, what goals have been accomplished, what are the areas for improvement, where might there be cause for concern. And someone else should really start doing these reviews for me because I am way too harsh on myself for my own good. (And as a side note, no, I was not as harsh on Temp Assistant!)
Saturday was kind of a sad day. I can’t say that it was any one thing. Probably more of a culmination of the feeling of too many things going on or too many worries lately. So I just spent the day alone. Like all alone, did not leave my apt, alone. I can be a bit of a hermit sometimes, usually it passes just as quickly as it happens. I was supposed to go out that night, but the plans fell through and I guess it was just as well. I probably wasn’t great company for anyone anyway.
Yesterday I tried for a better day. I forced myself up early and out of the apartment to run errands. Between groceries and other bags there was too much stuff to take up in one trip. First trip done and I thought “Oh it would be smart to take the trash out when I go for the rest of the bags!” So I did, feeling pretty darn proud of my being so effective and efficient. And I guess to balance out all that smart thinking, I realized on the way back from the car to the apartment that I my apt keys were back IN the apartment. That’s right, I had managed to lock myself out.
Yes, I keep my car and apartment keys separate (because I only ever drive on the weekends.) Yesterday I was just grateful I at least had my key card to get into the apt building. I am guessing from the crack on it that it had managed to break OFF of my apt key ring – awesome. “Ok,” I thought quite calmly, “I will just go to the Property Manager’s apartment and pay the fine and get let back in. Sh*t happens, what can you do.” So I went to their apt (located in my own building thankfully) and knocked. I saw their one car outside which was a good sign, and I could hear the television on through the door. So I knocked again. I knocked LOUDER. I used the actual Door Knocker (maybe they were being a stickler about that?) and NOTHING. No response. I was knocking at all sorts of levels in various patterns and with varying amounts of force for a good 30-40 minutes. I tried knocking on other people’s doors and no one answered. Probably just as well because what was I going to ask them to do for me?
Now I panicked. What was I going to do? I had no phone to call anyone and didn't even have my wallet, it was all locked up safe and sound in the apt. Roommate was not going to be home for another couple days. I had the car key, the key card for the building, the shopping bags and that’s it. So I hauled my shopping bags back OUT to my car, got in and drove to my friend K’s apt. Literally praying Hail Marys out loud in the car to both calm myself down and ask God to please do me a solid and have her be at her apt.
I parked the car and ran up to the door…and could not for the LIFE OF ME remember her apartment number. So I just started dialing the different numbers on her floor – hey, at least I knew the right floor. And sometimes people would pick up, and sometimes they wouldn’t. Sometimes they spoke English, most times they didn’t. A few people got very nasty with me. One told me to leave before they called the police -- in hindsight, maybe I should have let them as my next thoughts involved going to a police station cause I didn’t know what else to do at that point. So after yelling her name a few times on the verrrrrryyyyyyy off chance she could hear me, I gave up and went back to my car. I got in and shut the door and just cried.
Cried because I was frustrated with myself and the situation. Cried because I seriously had nowhere to go and didn’t know what else to do. Sadly we have NO friendly neighbors in our apt. building. Not one. We have 2 groups that are always outside smoking so I thought maybe I could ask one of them if I could use their phone. But who would I call? The only number I know by heart anymore is my Pop-Pop’s. And he lives in New Jersey, so I don’t know what he could do to help me.
I was driving back to my apt, still crying because I felt so very alone. I didn’t have anyone who might try and text/call me and get concerned if I didn’t respond. I had no one expecting me somewhere on a lovely Sunday evening. I had nowhere to go and no one to worry about me.
Rational Deviled Megs was trying to think:
“Well couldn’t I just sleep in my car if I have to?”
“Hopefully the Prop Mgr will be better about answering their door during normal business hours tomorrow.”
“What if I sleep in the hallway outside my apt - will one of my crappy neighbors have a heart and realize something is wrong and offer to call the Prop Mgr for me?”
But she was getting wayyyyyyyyy overshadowed by Anxious & Worrisome Deviled Megs:
“Wait, is the Prop Mgr office going to be closed for Columbus day?!?”
“I can’t believe I know no one’s phone number that could help in a time like this.”
“Where can I go? I have a car but do I seriously have no place to go??”
“I can’t remember when I have ever felt this alone and helpless.”
And that last statement is a doozy. Because I do just about everything on my own and have for a loooooong time. I had a thought a while back that I was getting worried that just because I have gotten so adept at being self sufficient and independent that people just expect me to be okay that way, or worse, think that I really enjoy it. I do enjoy that I have the capability to do it. I don’t enjoy that yesterday I realized I could be in trouble or need help and have no one to worry about me or come looking for me.
Then Rational Deviled Megs took over and said, “This is bullsh*t. Someone is HOME in the Prop Mgr’s apt. So I will go back there and bang on that door until someone answers dammit!”
Which is what I did. Banged and pounded on the door for about 20-25 more minutes until I then started shouting AT the door. I had even found a pen and paper in my car and scribbled a PLEASE HELP note that I was ready to slide under their door until the Prop Mgr’s husband finally answered the door. And gave me such an angry “Why are you interrupting my watching football look” that I started to cry again. As I explained my situation I think he genuinely felt bad for me and gave me the keys to go upstairs and let myself back in to my apt. I have never run up those stairs so fast in my life. When I got inside the door I felt such a wash of relief I almost needed to sit down. I collected myself and went back downstairs to return the keys. I thanked him profusely and returned back upstairs to my apartment.
And like that, I was alone again. I was still kind of upset about the whole ordeal and called my Mom. No answer. She regularly screens calls and sometimes I don’t make the cut so I didn’t even feel like trying to call her other line. And calling my Dad (if he even answered) would have gotten me a long lecture about how to NOT lock myself out of the apt.
I tried convincing a friend to come have drinks with me, watch some football/baseball. As usual, I got a “No.” Another friend was off on a date, so…back to being alone. At least now I was INSIDE my apartment, so it was definitely an improvement over crying in my car, don’t get me wrong. But you know when you have something bad happen, or even just a crap awful day, and the last thing you want or really even need is to be left all alone. That was me last night.
I don’t really know how to wrap this up and give it all some positive uplifting ending. I don’t feel horrible about the getting locked out (I mean, sh*t happens) and I don’t feel like “woe is me” that I didn't have anyone to turn to at the time. But I do feel….something. I wish I knew how to describe it so maybe I could start to UNfeel it.
Is there anyone else out there who has felt something like this before with some words of wisdom? And don’t tell me how to NOT lock myself out of the apt. in the future, my Dad’s got that one covered.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
This & That Thursday
• Because of all the rain here in DC today, traffic was more of a pain in the butt than usual. My assistant sent an email to me and two others letting them know her bus was still on the toll road. I responded to everyone letting them know that I too was held up in traffic. Not like no one can get a hold of me on blackberry but just being a good egg and letting them know. Someone then thought it necessary to email the ENTIRE DC OFFICE to let them know both of us would be late. They didn't even send that email out until 45 minutes AFTER I had gotten in. I really don't know what was accomplished there but I felt like I was getting called out for not having a hall pass or something.
• When I did arrive to the office, soaked from head to toe, someone asked me if it was still raining outside. "Nah....I just got confused this morning and dressed first and THEN showered." I hate stupid weather related office chit-chat more than anything. If someone else has a good way of getting out of those conversations, please be sure to share your secret with me.
• Maybe I just have a face where people want to ask me stupid questions? Earlier this morning as I was waiting at the bus stop in the rain, someone walks up and asks me if the bus has come by yet. "Oh yeah, it did. But I am enjoying standing out here in the pouring rain shivering that I thought I'd wait a few more before getting on a bus. You know...have some quality 'me time' out here" Again, any suggestions to get people to avoid asking me these idiotic questions would be really appreciated.
• Finally, some people have pics of their family/kids on their desk. Not me....can't figure out how long it'll be before someone raises an eyebrow at this. My money's on it happening by COB next Tuesday.
• When I did arrive to the office, soaked from head to toe, someone asked me if it was still raining outside. "Nah....I just got confused this morning and dressed first and THEN showered." I hate stupid weather related office chit-chat more than anything. If someone else has a good way of getting out of those conversations, please be sure to share your secret with me.
• Maybe I just have a face where people want to ask me stupid questions? Earlier this morning as I was waiting at the bus stop in the rain, someone walks up and asks me if the bus has come by yet. "Oh yeah, it did. But I am enjoying standing out here in the pouring rain shivering that I thought I'd wait a few more before getting on a bus. You know...have some quality 'me time' out here" Again, any suggestions to get people to avoid asking me these idiotic questions would be really appreciated.
• Finally, some people have pics of their family/kids on their desk. Not me....can't figure out how long it'll be before someone raises an eyebrow at this. My money's on it happening by COB next Tuesday.
Friday, September 10, 2010
She's crafty...
...and she used to get around but now she is a grown up and actually does crafts. That pretty much sums up me over the last couple months. Inspired by reading (way too much of) The Grosgrain Garage, I have gotten into the habit of focusing my creative energies into some crafty projects outside the office. You know, since very few law firms are lauded for their creative crafty skills.
I started with making wreaths after getting inspired by a posting on that blog. This is one I made for my Pop Pop's house down the shore.
That isn't even one of my favorites (I really liked the Hokie wreath I made for L) but some of the other ones are little gifties for a few peeps who may read this and I don't want to spoil any sort of surprise.
And I love making them, but c'mon. How many wreaths can I make before I get wreathed out? If anyone has any wreath-specific requests, send em my way and I am sure I can accommodate you.
So I have been going back to her blog looking for some more craftspiration (yes I made that up, but the word totally fits) and lately she has been posting about embroidery. Like she is monogramming clothing and towels and things at her house. And then she posted something that she embroidered a monogram on. Anyone who knows me IRL (that's in real life, people) knows that if there is a spare bit of space on just about anything, I will usually find a way to slap a monogram on it. Or at the very least, an initial.
So all throughout this off-the-charts crazy day at work (I am actually on a conference call as I type this posting....helloooooooo multitasking!) all I can think of is "How the hell do I teach myself embroidery??? And how quickly can I monogram everything in my apartment???" Hopefully L isn't reading this and if she is....just kidding!!! I would never be able to monogram everything in the apartment. I am short, and some things are out of my reach :)
I started with making wreaths after getting inspired by a posting on that blog. This is one I made for my Pop Pop's house down the shore.
That isn't even one of my favorites (I really liked the Hokie wreath I made for L) but some of the other ones are little gifties for a few peeps who may read this and I don't want to spoil any sort of surprise.
And I love making them, but c'mon. How many wreaths can I make before I get wreathed out? If anyone has any wreath-specific requests, send em my way and I am sure I can accommodate you.
So I have been going back to her blog looking for some more craftspiration (yes I made that up, but the word totally fits) and lately she has been posting about embroidery. Like she is monogramming clothing and towels and things at her house. And then she posted something that she embroidered a monogram on. Anyone who knows me IRL (that's in real life, people) knows that if there is a spare bit of space on just about anything, I will usually find a way to slap a monogram on it. Or at the very least, an initial.
So all throughout this off-the-charts crazy day at work (I am actually on a conference call as I type this posting....helloooooooo multitasking!) all I can think of is "How the hell do I teach myself embroidery??? And how quickly can I monogram everything in my apartment???" Hopefully L isn't reading this and if she is....just kidding!!! I would never be able to monogram everything in the apartment. I am short, and some things are out of my reach :)
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Concert Notes
Last week I went to a concert at WolfTrap, one of my favorite venues in the DC area. Many people like it because a perk of getting lawn seats (besides them being cheaper) is that you can bring in your own food and drinks, including beer and wine. I know, so great, right? People bring in honest to god pic-a-nic baskets, brimming with fruit and cheese platters, pita chips and hummus, little stakes that go into the ground to hold your wine glass, the works. Usually you see these sort of spreads with a group of all ladies, or when the wives/girlfriends of the group were in charge of bringing the food. Otherwise it is a sure sign of a second/third date where the guy is trying hard to impress or a sprinkling of gay men.
Personally, I happen to like it because it is always a fabulous place for people-watching. Maybe it’s because with all that booze readily available in front of you and no need to go purchase it at a concession stand, people may tend to drink a little more than they normally would. The people watching last week was pretty great and I wanted to share some of the highlights with you.
• Sitting on a lawn is a little more quaint and cozy that being in the seated area. You can spread out your blanket, have your snacks and relax. But just because you’ve created a space that looks like your living room does not mean you are in your living room. So while the music may make you feel a bit amorous, please refrain from laying ON TOP of your concert companion. Ew. Maybe it had been awhile since they got some lovin’ but come on, for the love of god. Wait until you are home in your house/apt/condo, cocooned by all the Williams Sonoma, Pottery Barn, and Crate & Barrel sh*t people bought you off your wedding registry. Cause I bet you ten bucks, looking at all those pots and pans and place settings and vases and matching cloth napkins gets your lady WAY more excited than any song could.
• Again, while it may feel like you are in your living room, you are actually out on a big lawn, so if you are speaking in a raised voice, everyone around you can hear your dorky/inappropriate/annoying conversations. And I promise you we don’t care about the new software at work/a weird rash you noticed/which Real Housewives are your favorites.
• For some reason, all old white people dancing look like they are stoned to me. Unless they are at a wedding. In which case I know they are dancing like that because they are smashed.
• You all look ridiculous in these so please stop wearing them. Seriously, we are in DC people, not an extras casting call for Season 3 of “Miami Vice.”
• There is no brandy snifter with dollar bills shoved in it on the stage. That means the band is not generally going to TAKE REQUESTS FROM THE AUDIENCE. So for the love of granola, please stop yelling out for them to “PLAY (insert obscure song name here)” They have a set list and generally stick to it. You are shouting from the lawn and they can’t hear you. And looking at you, I am sure you played all the band’s CDs on the drive here so go play that song on the way home and shut the hell up.
• Just because a tank top claims it has a “shelf bra” does not mean that is going to be sufficient support for you. Seriously, I was with a guy and we both agreed it didn’t look sexy…it looked borderline NatGeo Aborigine disgusting.
• While you aren't out at a bar, it doesn’t mean you still can’t be “that girl” so please let’s keep each other in check out there ladies. I’m looking at you laughing hyena girl…all of the guys and a few of the girls in your group looked like they were ready to punch you in the face. I was ready to let them pay me to do it so they didn’t have to live with the guilt of roughing up one of their own. In hindsight, I should have – it would have been a win-win for all of us.
Personally, I happen to like it because it is always a fabulous place for people-watching. Maybe it’s because with all that booze readily available in front of you and no need to go purchase it at a concession stand, people may tend to drink a little more than they normally would. The people watching last week was pretty great and I wanted to share some of the highlights with you.
• Sitting on a lawn is a little more quaint and cozy that being in the seated area. You can spread out your blanket, have your snacks and relax. But just because you’ve created a space that looks like your living room does not mean you are in your living room. So while the music may make you feel a bit amorous, please refrain from laying ON TOP of your concert companion. Ew. Maybe it had been awhile since they got some lovin’ but come on, for the love of god. Wait until you are home in your house/apt/condo, cocooned by all the Williams Sonoma, Pottery Barn, and Crate & Barrel sh*t people bought you off your wedding registry. Cause I bet you ten bucks, looking at all those pots and pans and place settings and vases and matching cloth napkins gets your lady WAY more excited than any song could.
• Again, while it may feel like you are in your living room, you are actually out on a big lawn, so if you are speaking in a raised voice, everyone around you can hear your dorky/inappropriate/annoying conversations. And I promise you we don’t care about the new software at work/a weird rash you noticed/which Real Housewives are your favorites.
• For some reason, all old white people dancing look like they are stoned to me. Unless they are at a wedding. In which case I know they are dancing like that because they are smashed.
• You all look ridiculous in these so please stop wearing them. Seriously, we are in DC people, not an extras casting call for Season 3 of “Miami Vice.”
• There is no brandy snifter with dollar bills shoved in it on the stage. That means the band is not generally going to TAKE REQUESTS FROM THE AUDIENCE. So for the love of granola, please stop yelling out for them to “PLAY (insert obscure song name here)” They have a set list and generally stick to it. You are shouting from the lawn and they can’t hear you. And looking at you, I am sure you played all the band’s CDs on the drive here so go play that song on the way home and shut the hell up.
• Just because a tank top claims it has a “shelf bra” does not mean that is going to be sufficient support for you. Seriously, I was with a guy and we both agreed it didn’t look sexy…it looked borderline NatGeo Aborigine disgusting.
• While you aren't out at a bar, it doesn’t mean you still can’t be “that girl” so please let’s keep each other in check out there ladies. I’m looking at you laughing hyena girl…all of the guys and a few of the girls in your group looked like they were ready to punch you in the face. I was ready to let them pay me to do it so they didn’t have to live with the guilt of roughing up one of their own. In hindsight, I should have – it would have been a win-win for all of us.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Do you know how many different flavors of Combos there are?
Seven. There are seven different flavors. I know, I thought there would be more too. But I counted them, and out of curiosity checked on the website today, and there are seven. (Zesty Salsa Tortilla and Jalapeno Cheddar Tortilla not pictured)
Counted? Yup, I did. And wouldn't you know there's a funny story to go along with that.
I took a day trip with L out to her parents house so she could water the flowers while her mom was away. It was a great day for a drive, and the promise of a stop at the Outlets on the way home made it all too enticing to pass up. After the plant watering had wrapped up (L watered, I supervised) we made a stop at Sheetz to get a drink and a snack before heading to the outlets.
While standing in front of the fridges, pondering the drink selection, up walks my ex's Dad to say hello to L. (L is friends with ex's sister -- because THAT is how small my world is) And as that happened, I snapped my sunglasses down on my nose and took a sharp turn into the chips aisle and hid out. Trying to stifle my "is this really happening" laughter and focusing my gaze on the combos display. Those reading this that know me (a big HEY! to all 4 of you) know that this kind of sh*t happens to me all the time. But all I could do to keep from laughing out loud was staring at those combos and trying to just stay hidden.
Why did I hide? I don't know, first impulse I guess. But after the coast was clear, one of the first things L said to me was "When I saw him walking up, I was just hoping you would see him too and run away" Good to know that others have "flight" as their first response to that scenario too.
Other highlights from this Sheetz trip include:
A guy in line behind me buying four 24 oz. cans of PBR. I may be wrong, but I don't think it was even noon yet.
A mom in the line, a few away from the register, yelling "I NEED THE MILKSHAKE, COURTNEY!" to her child who was on the other side of the store. Again, it was not yet noon, but maybe milkshakes count as breakfast?
I know what many of you must be thinking and I wholeheartedly agree -- these things would NEVER have happened at a Wawa. Lesson learned.
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