Overbooked and Underpaid: Notes from a Yes-aholic

Idiocy At The Salon

 

I was running errands this morning. One of those errands involved stopping by the salon where my family gets their hair cut. Errand accomplished, I headed back out to my car. 

After clicking the remote unlock button on my key fob, I opened the door, got in, inserted the key in the ignition and attempted to start the car.

I say attempted because, as I went to put in the clutch and turn the key, my foot swooshed through thin air. I tried again.

Swoosh.

I looked down at the floor for the clutch thinking that maybe I just had my foot in the wrong position.

I couldn't even see the clutch.

Because there was no clutch.

At which point I took a good look around the car and noticed that there was a baby seat in the back.

Which ain't mine. My last baby just turned 12.

This is not my car!!!!

It was the same make, model and color as my car. It was even parked where I usually park.

Well, I jumped out of that car pretty darn quick, I can tell you!

Now what?

The car is unlocked. Did I somehow manage to unlock it with my remote? Did the owner leave the car unlocked?

I decided, for better or for worse, that the right thing to do would be to go into the salon, search for the rightful owner of said car, and humble myself in front of her. I just could not be sure, you see, that I hadn't left some evidence of my presence. Silly as it may sound, I just knew that that woman would get into her car - like the bears arriving after Goldilocks - and she would instinctively know that someone else had sat in her seat and put a strange key into the ignition.

I actually wound up having to ask  every woman in the place before I found her. She was very gracious - although she looked pretty confused by my explanation - and we all - meaning everyone at the salon - had a good laugh. 

So no harm done, I guess.

Except I don't think I'm going to schedule any appointments there on a Friday any time soon.

You know, just to be on the safe side......

Sometimes They Let Me Out Of My Cage

Sometimes the overbooked overlords let me out of my cage and allow me to roam free among you. 

Yesterday and today I have learned a couple of things:

First, when walking through modern indoor shopping malls, (a place I have not been more than 4 times in the last 10 years as I primarily shop outdoor outlet malls) there are a myriad of kiosks for things like sunglasses, jewelry and a variety of beauty products. These kiosks are staffed by what I shall now call the sales trolls. Related to the carnival barker, the sales troll scopes you out from a distance, takes a split second to determine a method of engagement and jumps out at you saying things like "What do you use to straighten your hair?!" or "Do you always wear your fingernails natural?!" or even (in desperation) "I like your earrings!!"

Yesterday I was captured by a particularly adept sales troll who took 10 minutes of my time to buff my fingernails all nice and shiny and then try to sell me a fingernail buffing kit for 49.95 (usually 69.95 - but "special price for today!"). I finally extracted myself and resolved to spend the rest of my trip through the mall buffered from sales trolls by my two hulking teenage sons. They can be very intimidating. It worked.

I later went on the internet and discovered that I could get the same nail buffing block at Target for $1.89.

I bought three.

So he succeeded on one level at least - he did convince me I needed a nail buffer.

Secondly, when you go to your local superstore (take your pick, Target, Walmart, Kmart, Shopko, etc.) and attempt to buy a camcorder, the sales person will know absolutely diddley squat about camcorders. He/she is just some poor sales sap who got stationed in the electronics department that day. He/she hasn't had an ounce of training about anything in that department or any other department. And when you ask what the difference is between this camera and that camera, all he/she can do is read and attempt to decipher the same sales tags you just spent 10 minutes trying to decipher. 

Today's salesperson was a sweetheart and readily admitted as much.

I don't blame the employee - I blame the store.

Now, I don't run a store - but if I did, I think it might be just a teensy, weensy bit of a good idea to find a way to make sure my employees know something about what I sell.

But then that would be the sensible thing to do.....

I have great hopes that, as the economy remains in the tank, retailers will look for ways to improve my shopping experience.

But I'm not going to hold my breath.

This Is New

 

 

Our cat - like most cats - is fond of curling up in sunlit spaces. But this is a first.

For more tales of cat weirdness read my previous post here.

If Only This Were True

The Blessing

As my looks are beginning to go, so is his eyesight.

Will We Get a Blizzard?

I was in a local establishment earlier today when the cashier asked me if I thought we would actually get all the snow that is being predicted for our area. (18-22 inches, by the way)

My answer:

"Yes, most definitely. Every inch."

Cashier: "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm out of road salt and my snowblower broke last week.:"

Trust me - we'll get that snow....

The Nexus

I have the dubious distinction of living in a sort of a sports nexus. The city of Kenosha, while once a town almost exclusively devoted to the Green Bay Packers, Milwaukee Brewers and Milwaukee Bucks, has seen an influx of immigrants from south of the border over the past 20 years. That would be south of the Wisconsin/Illinois border. 

As the immigrants have come, they have brought their tribal rituals with them, including their fabled sports allegiances.  We are now a fully integrated city and even have a few (gasp) mixed marriages like the couple pictured above.

The tension generally comes out in the open only on scattered game days. The Basketball (Bucks/Bulls) and Baseball (Brewers/Cubs - I have yet to meet a White Sox fan here, oddly enough) rivalries, while present, don't seem to hold a candle to the Packers/Bears football drama. I put this down to the fact that football plays so many fewer games than baseball and basketball that the importance of a single game gets inflated.

So you can imagine what it feels like to live here this week as we prepare for one of the biggest sports showdowns in decades. (The Packers and Bears have been rivals since 1921 and the last time they faced each other in a playoff game in the 1960's, the Superbowl didn't even exist) Is it any wonder the phrase you here around here daily is "This game is bigger than the Superbowl!".

Even I, someone who only occasionally sits down to watch a football game (I grew up in Indiana where our addiction of choice is chiefly Basketball) will be watching this game.

Although, it might actually be a great time to do some shopping. I can't imagine there will be more than 5 other people in the entire city who won't be sitting in front of a TV.

Come to think of it - they might just have to close all the stores so the employees can watch too.

The Cat And The Toilet

We have a cat that is, apparently, allergic to water dishes.

No matter how we try, we cannot get him to drink from anything other than the toilet bowl.

He perches on the edge, paddles furiously with his paws to stir up the water, and drinks.

Needless to say, this puts a lot of extra water up onto the seat.

Waiting for the unsuspecting guest who then requests to use my bathroom.

What she must think of me.

10 Things That Make Me Grouchy

I am having a grouchy morning.

Here are 10 things off the top of my head that make me grouchy.

1) The way, as I try to wash my face at the bathroom sink, the water all runs down my forearm to my elbow, messing up whatever I am wearing. I have attempted to hold my arm at an angle above horizontal. It does not seem to help.

2) The teller at the bank who won't deposit my check from a student because said student mistakenly wrote 1/5/10 instead of 1/5/11. I mean, come on - can't we have a two week grace period where we all get our acts together and wrap our heads around the fact that the year has changed?

3) The way that, no matter what system I try to implement in my household regarding the putting of dishes into the dishwasher, there are always at least 3 dirty dishes in the sink. (Getting dirtier, as people rinse their other dirty dishes over them, BTW)

4) That Border Collie/ Labradors shed by the minute. To keep up, I should be doing nothing other than vacuuming 24/7.

5) The fact that bills never stop coming. Wouldn't it be nice if everyone could choose one month a year to take a vacation from paying bills? Or even one month a decade, for that matter?

6) That no library on the planet stamps due dates on your books any more. Instead, you get a charming receipt (that you lose within 5 minutes of them handing it to you). I am fairly certain that this is one of the most brilliant plots to separate me from $ that has ever been devised. The library knows dam well that we will all lose these little bits of paper and will never again know when anything is due.

7) And, in keeping with number 6, that, while the library pretends to help you keep track of your items, they only send you an email notice about your due date after the book is due. If they really weren't in it for the money, they would send me the reminder 1 week before the book is due. Now there's a concept!

8) And, in keeping with number 7, that, before I brilliantly figured out I should give the library my email address, they only sent me snail mail overdue notices once a book was at least 4 weeks overdue!!!!! (Clearly I have major issues with my library - I may, in fact, eventually have to dedicate an entire post just to my war with librarydom.)

9) That the counselors at our local high school seem to be there primarily to deal with issues like truancy and stemming criminal behavior. How nice it would be if they actually seemed to A) know who my kid is, B) know what he might be considering for a career, C) helping him determine a career if he has no clue, D) figuring out an overall class scheduling strategy that supports his career choice and E) helping him determine what colleges he should be looking at for the next step toward said career. When I was in high school, those things went without saying. I'm pretty peeved that all of the above is now, apparently, my job. Even though I don't have access to the resources and contacts of your average guidance counselor.

10) The one that really has me steamed right now - that, while my property assessment went down by 7% last year, my property taxes went up a whopping 11%. Which, maybe I could stand, if it weren't for 6,7,8 & 9!!!

 

And with that, I must bid you adieu for now. Writing out all of the above has made me even grouchier. I'm going to go shake it off and come back later with my best attempt at levity.

 

 

Produce Drawer of Death or "I Need A New Fridge"!

Produce Drawer of Death or "I Need a New Fridge"

So it's the holiday season and that means guests. 

And that means cleaning. 

Not just cleaning. 

CLEANING. 

As in everything.

Everything as in all three bathrooms - including the medicine cabinets (you knowpeople open your medicine cabinets), all the mold and mildew in the shower (you know they look at that too - I don't know why, but they do), the toilets (including under the lid - a place the boys in my life should understand some people will see), behind the toilets and the pedestal sinks (ugh!.. my very least favorite - it's where all the dog hair not only gathers but somehow congeals), and the ritual placing of the fake towels (you know the ones - the ones no one in the family ever uses so they'll look nice for company - and the "company" thinks they are also too nice to use and so they sneakily wipe their hands on the shower curtain).

Everything as in moving all the furniture when you vacuum because someone might actually change the position of something and discover what's lurking under there much of the year.

Everything as in all the doors and door frames and light switches and kitchen cabinet knobs that apparently have not been cleaned since last Christmas. It's amazing how much grime builds up in these places without me noticing it. When I suddenly become aware of it about, oh.. Dec 6th, I am stunned at its obviousness and our slovenliness. For a brief moment, I worry that this grime will have been obvious to any and all other guests we may have had throughout the course of the year. Then, like the blissful forgetfulness that follows labor pains, I put it out of my mind until next December.

Everything as in the stovetop (never, I repeat never get a black enamel rangetop - shows every last water spot and grease speck) and the oven door and the dishwasher door (goddamned stainless steel). 

And, finally.... everything as in the inside of the fridge. Yes the inside of the fridge. Because not only is this the time of year for many guests, it's the time of year for many guests to help you. They will be in the kitchen helping get food on the table and fetching things in and out of the fridge for you and JUDGING YOU.

Which brings me to why I need a new fridge. Because not only is my fridge of an unknown age (it came with the house 12 years ago and it was probably at least 15 years old then), my fridge is frightening. Frightening because it makes a variety of unsettling noises  - hisses and pops and growls and grumblings - it's like something out of the Shining. When I open the door, I expect to hear "Redrum!" or else see those animal things from the fridge in Ghostbuters.

And frightening because of all the death it contains. Dead soup, dead bowls of spagetti, dead half eaten yogurts, dead jars of crystalized jam, dead chinese food, and dead produce. 

Now the produce is in a different category of death. Most of the dead items in my fridge consist of optimistically placed leftovers. (You'd think after 24 years John and I would know which types of leftovers will actually get eaten and which ones are doomed to become a ritualistic sacrifice to the refrigerator gods. Yet we continue to put all supper leftovers in there blithely assuming they'll turn into lunches.) These I at least have no problem eventually throwing away - they never taste as good as when they were new anyway and they grow fascinating varieties of mold.

But the produce represents a bigger failure. The produce represents a quest for healthy eating. Salads never made, vegetables never served for dinner, oranges that, while they looked juicy at the store, have turned out to be little rind covered balls of sawdust.

I try, I really do. Every trip to the grocery store I buy all these healthy fresh foods with every intention of consuming every bit of them. So where does it all break down? Why are these foods not getting eaten? It's not that we are junk food junkies - we love to cook and these  are foods we actually like to eat. 

No, the fault lies with my fridge and the produce drawer of death. My theory is that it is all the fault of the design of my "freezer on top - fridge on the bottom" refrigerator. First of all there are two produce drawers - one that says "moist cold" and one that says "vegetables and fruit" and the fact that I cannot for the life of me figure out what is supposed to go into the "moist cold" one if it isn't vegetables and fruit.

Second is the fact that the drawers are tinted like sunglasses and you cannot see what is in them without opening them. This, of course, means that, unless you open them constantly, stuff is pretty sure to be going bad in there. Thirdly, and here is where we get to the new fridge part, the produce drawers are all the way at the bottom of the fridge. I practically have to get down on my hands and knees to even get access to them. Talk about out of sight out of mind. So what I need is... drumroll please... one of those new refrigerators that has the freezer on the bottom and the fridge on the top with the lovely french doors and the produce drawers right smack dab at eye level. With clear plastic that I can see through to boot. 

I am absolutely, stupendously sure that this will solve all of my fridge death problems and we will eat healthy evermore. And, I won't have to clean the fridge this year for company :-)

Are you listening, John?

Epilogue:

A year has come and gone since I wrote that and I still have my cruddy old fridge and yes, I still plan to clean it before my big Christmas Party. I got started in a small way tonight. When I opened my produce drawers, this is what I found:

Tonight, funeral services were conducted for two heads of lettuce, some grapes, green onions and a desiccated lemon.

These grapes are both dried up and moldy - pick your poison...

I assure you, this lettuce smells every bit as delicious as it looks.....

This poor lettuce never even made it out of the plastic wrap....

John swears that, as I stroll through the produce aisle at the store, all the fruits and vegetables recoil in horror when they see me coming. Like that little fish killing girl in "Finding Nemo" 

Sigh.

New Years' Resolution number one: stopping killing lettuces.