The age old question of the guilty party...

So today I am sitting in my fishbowl office--windows looking out onto other people and listening to a discussion about the "Tiger Woods issue." You know, that he cheated on his wife and had a mistress, and didn't even abuse alcohol. Seriously, dude, it might be time for that now.

So I sit staring blankly because I have a benedryl hangover from last night listening to 3 women talk about the issue. One of the women DEFENDS him because, "Those athletes have women just throwing themselves at them all the time." Another says, "He should have just paid his mistress off from the beginning because he knew he would be paying her the rest of his life."

Major red flag here people.

It takes me all the way back to Genesis. You know where Adam was tempted by Eve. It was her fault. She tempted him. And, he was not able to control himself--just like Tiger Woods.

Basically, what I'm saying is that Tiger Woods is in the bible. He may be kicked out of the garden for a while, but basically he's going down in blameless history.

New generation

Dear inappropriate facebookers,

I don't get the desire to post everything on facebook. When you are having a private conversation--do it privately. I don't want to see mushy gushy love notes. Pick up the phone. Put down the video games. Talk in person.

Judgementally yours,

me

Bobby pins

I wear bobby pins a lot lately. For a while it was decorated ones (check out banana republic) and now just plain ones. It's for when my bangs are an awkward length or I don't want to fix them. I find them to be acceptable.

Today a lady at work said, "Oh, you're wearing bobby pins. My mom used to use those when she would curl her hair. I've never seen anyone wear them just... out."

Thanks...

Same woman who one day told me that she didn't know navy and green went together. I had on a navy sweater and green belt.

VBS, piano playing, casseroles.

I stopped at Starbucks (I would totally go local if there was somewhere on my way to work!) this morning for my weekly delight of a chai tea.

The chatty barista asked "What all I had going on today?"
Me: "Oh, just work."
Him: "Where do you work?"
Me: "name of religious organization..."
Him: "Oh, so you do administrative work?"
Me: "EFF OFF YOU CONDESCENDING JERK." No.

I'm not saying that being an administrative assistant is a poor job. I've done that work. I know that they are integral to the functioning of most organizations.

What pisses me off is that because I'm young and female and thought I worked at a church he believed I was an administrative assistant. Probably gearing up for VBS. I did not go to seminary and get a masters degree and an ass ton of loans to run vbs and make casseroles (though I do love children and am making a casserole tonight.)

Dear Starbucks Barista,

No. I do not want to make small talk with you unless you tell me I look fabulous and give me free caffeinated drinks. No, you don't get to comment on my career. I have a masters degree. I can work at a church. I could be the senior pastor of a church. Yes, your chai tea is tasty, but you make me angry and I may slash your tires. I'll pray about it afterwards.

Truly annoyed,
me.

Really Blogger?

So I was posting about my calorie day and ran spell check and low and behold...

Blogger spell check does not recognize the word "queso" as a real word.

over sharing.

I'm of the mind that when you have a Dr's appointment, you do not need to explain why--especially in a work environment. I think if you take your sick time and mention you have an appointment then so it goes.

I've mentioned that people in my office like to ask invasive dumb questions and offer too much information.

This is an email that was sent out to an entire department today because a woman was going to the doctor.

"I have a Dr.'s appointment today at 2:45 for a follow up on my hurting toes."

Really? That just happened.

Chopsticks? We don't need no stinkin' chopsticks.

So the husband and I went to dinner last night to our sushi place. A couple comes in and sits down at the table behind us. The man... pulls out his pocket knife to cut his sushi. Then puts it back in his pocket.

I asked B if he would please pretend to take a picture of me so as to catch this for all of you. He refused.

They were also playing a mix of R&B/rap music... and Kenny Chesney last night. So weird.

Ballin'

This guy in the van was getting gas next to me yesterday.

Apparently, from the looks of it, his name is Dru Smith, Dru Smizzle if you're nasty, and he likes aviator sunglasses. I'm pretty sure he also likes to rap. Now, if I were a fancy enough rapper to have my mug plastered across a van, I would also request a driver. And enough cash to fill up the tank. Maybe the gas money would have been more of a priority than the custom rims.

It was just my luck that Dru Smizzle HIMSELF was purchasing gas in front of me inside the gas station. Not his driver! Not his manager, it was him, in the flesh. "Can you put $5 on pump 2?" I heard him say. Must not be a lot left over.

Dear Dru Smizzle,

Good luck with your rap career. I like your van, and your fancy red scarf. It must be fun to drive a van with your face on it.

Loves,
Me

(Note - Although it appears that there is a collision in this photo, I assure you, it was just a near-mishap.)

Don't take away my benefits

So I am on a "health" committee at work. It's a recent development. We are coming up with ways to encourage healthy living in our work environment. Sounds great, right?

One thing we do here is have a fridge--that is filled with coke (remember, I call everything coke.) So there is Coke, Diet Coke, Diet Caffeine free coke, Dr. pepper, Diet Dr. Pepper, and Sprite. We also have tea, coffee, and filtered water. My suggestion was to stop providing the cokes. I mean, we aren't saying you can't have them, or you can't bring them, but they just won't be provided any longer. You would think we had told people that we were taking away their dental insurance. No lie I had this conversation (and this is edited because there was much more absurdity).

disgruntled employee--I mean, whose idea was this anyway?
me: um... mine
DE: I just feel like you are forcing me to be healthy and I'm an adult and can choose for myself.
me: It's actually proven that when people drink cokes all day it leads to obesity.
DE: I will boycott this. Me, and a lot of other people are P.O.d
me: staring... (thinking, wtf, mate? who cares this much about coke.)
DE: Well, it's just that we've always had it. I mean, it's one of the really great perks and things that makes this place wonderful.
me: (whoa dude, if you work here for free coke perhaps you're misplaced.)

Dear Disgruntled Employees,

If you are so concerned with the coke "situation" please consider that you have too much time on your hands. Perhaps you need to go out and get a little life experience to put this in perspective. Maybe you can go out and get that life experience while you are exercising and drinking water.

Love,
me

I want a burrito....BUR-EE-TOOOH

My mom can't handle ordering anything. In restaurants, a menu is her kryptonite. She is paralyzed by all the choices and making a decision. She always orders last, often changing her order based on what other people choose. And there is always the pause when the server gets to her, followed by, "Is the roast beef sandwich (insert any dish here) any good?" As if the server would say it's terrible, don't eat here.

She is especially perplexed by drive through windows, the verbal exchange is a bit overwhelming. She wants a cheeseburger, no make that chicken tenders, never mind, she'll just have fries and a drink. Make it a Coke, no wait, make it a Diet Coke. Actually, she'll just have the cheeseburger after all, did you get all that?

What really is a challenge is a Taco Bell. See, my mom assumes that people at a fast food Mexican restaurant are native Spanish speakers. She repeats everything, and speaks very slowly. She will have a taco, no wait, a burrito. Did you get that? A BURR-EEE-TOOOH."

Yesterday my brother and I were in the car with her and we stopped at Taco Bell on the way back from the visiting the pumpkin patch. I think the order was changed at least 3 times, and when we reached the window, she blamed it on us. "These kids, they couldn't make up their mind." Sigh.

By the way, we also pulled into a drive through on the way to the pumpkin patch that morning. "I'll have a Diet Coke," she said, and then spotted the QT gas station across the street. They have an amazing array of fountain drinks. "Never mind. We changed our mind." No order, we just pulled through the drive through and she waved as she passed the window.

the blue box, please.

Yesterday at the grocery store I saw....

Kraft mac'n'cheese crackers/chips.

Really, America? have we gone there?

You look tired.

So 2 times before 9AM today I was told, "You look tired."

Thanks. I am tired. Exhausted really. I mean, I'm disguising yoga pants as dress pants today. (How is this done? With a really cute top and blazer--then hopefully you do not look down to my very comfortable pants with the fold over top.)

Dear awkward work friends,

Why do you come into my office and simply announce, "You look tired"? When I say, "I am," it is your invitation to leave. It is not an invitation to continue to stand in the doorway and stare at me for what feels like an eternity and make me have awkward conversation with you because you do not know how to leave.

Lets try not to revisit this. Ok?

Stop prying into my personal life,

aeb.

Spring Awakening.

Last night my husband and I embarked on our first musical, Spring Awakening, with our season tickets to the Bass.

It was super sexual awesome. The music is all by Duncan Shiek. It was like this generations RENT. The concert hall is on the UT (that's Texas, folks--not Tennessee) campus. Because of this... there were students at the event. I did this for a class at SMU also.

Anywho... let me judge you for one second.

Dear two cute college girls,

Why are you wearing Nike tempos and sorority t-shirts to a musical? Did someone tell you that this was acceptable? Because it isn't. Don't you have etiquette training? Maybe that comes after you learn your greek alphabet and how to wet your hand with an X and transfer it to your friends hand in the bathroom.

Yes, I'm sitting here, holding my glass of prosecco judging you. If you would like for me to give you a list of appropriate attire, please let me know. Also, don't wear a tank top, short skirt, scarf and uggs. It's not cute and it's a confusion of seasons. We live in Texas.

Loves,
me.

Dear annoying group of guy college kids sitting behind us,

Yes, I know that you are uncomfortable that this is a musical and turning you on (because of the blatant sexuality.) Yes, I also realize that YOU realized you can drink while at a musical. Yes, you realized you can move to better seats than your student class pass allows you. Yes, I will continue to turn around and give you a death stare because you continue to loudly whisper to your friends and giggle. I hate you.

Sincerely,

me.

Overheard at Hartsfield Jackson International

The airport can be a fantastic place to overhear juicy conversation, to people watch, and to generally silently judge others.  It's even more fun when you are traveling with someone equally as catty as you are, so you can commiserate in your judgement with someone else.  Sadly, this trip to NYC I am traveling alone, so I must use this blog as a reprieve.

Dear lady sitting next to me at the gate,

Your voice sounds like an evil stepsister in a Disney movie.  That haircut is doing nothing for you, nor are your black jeans I'm pretty sure you got in the mens department.  I realize you are excited about your coworker who is going to be interviewed by Katie Couric.  However, after listening to your five phone calls and your commentary on your PR expertise, I want to give you an elbow jab.  Good thing this arm rest is in my way. 

Also, why you have taken ten pictures of the runway with your digital camera will forever remain a mystery.

Sincerely,

Me

I'll be right back..

So this morning I was talking to Mrs. Slappy-Shoes when I hear my cell phone ringing. Well, I was awaiting a call from the doctors office so I said--just a second (mid convo) my phone is ringing and I need to get that.

Instead of saying ok... she progressively got louder and continued talking. I could hear her even after saying hello.

Reasonable? No.

Annoying? Yes.

Other office shenanigans of the week...

We provide cokes (coke, diet coke, dr. pepper, ddp, sprite etc... and yes, they are all called "coke" despite brand) for the office. Well, they are provided for us. We are looking at how to create a healthier office system and my suggestion was to stop providing these. It isn't that you can't have them, or bring your own, but that they won't be provided. You would have thought I took away health care by the reaction. Someone actually referred to them as "benefits".

Save us now.

Watcha Eatin?

So the people I work with are OBSESSED with talking about "what are you eating?" I do not even eat in the lunchroom anymore because EVERYDAY they ask. I'm all, use your eyes! I can SEE what you are eating and do not need to ask.

There is also a lot of awkward standing after a question is asked.

Today I stopped and got a breakfast taco. I unwrapped it and was eating at my desk waiting for my computer to start up. Here one comes into my office...

Her:"You got a breakfast taco."

me: "Yes."

Her:... just standing staring at me...

Dear Anna Sui for Target

Dear Anna Sui,

I am unimpressed with your so called "budget" line at Target. I will admit, Target is one of my favorite places on earth. But when it comes to fashion, I refuse to pay more than $30 for anything there, and that's a stretch. Less than $20, I'm game. 75% off, hells yes. But $60 for a shirt? (or what is supposed to be a dress, but would barely cover my buttisimo.) Let's check the attitude at the automatic sliding door.

It's a discount store. It has a dollar section. Come on.

Sincerely,
Me

Safety Dance

So one day after work I was using the small cut through road to get back to the main road (therefore, not highly traveled.) I saw a man riding this

It was LITERALLY 8-10 ft tall and he had on an orange safety vest... as if I would not notice him.

Yoga, really?

So I went to yoga yesterday at my local Y. I wanted to try it out before I signed on. I went to one in Atlanta before I moved and it really wasn't all that great, but last night was serious (aka involved doing head stands against a wall.)

Anyway... so we get started. The room is quiet. We've begun. We're breathing. Centering ourselves.

Click. Slam. Heavy walking. In walks a tiny asian woman who is so loud, I almost giggle when I look at our teacher who made eye contact with me.

She puts her mat down. We continue. Then she HUFFILY stands up, exclaims "Someone radio on in purse!" Um... I hear nothing. She dramatically moves her mat directly in front of me.

Seriously though, you are at a YMCA. This isn't some fancy pants yoga class. Out of common courtesy, if you are late try to make a quiet entrance. If you are annoyed with a "radio" (I'm guessing cell phone) you just kinda hang in there. I mean, seriously?

At the end of class she also stands ON MY SHOES that are up against the wall while she gets her belongings together. I stood there waiting, no lie, for 3 minutes. Concept of space? Not so much.

Namaste.

What are the odds?

How is it possible that I disrupt the lives of two, count them, two differently-abled people in Kroger on the same trip? Both of them in the bread aisle, no less?

I'm minding my own beezwax, comparing various brands and types of hamburger buns. Kaiser, sesame encrusted, potato, what have you. There is a man in one of those "for your convenience" scooter carts for what reason, I cannot tell you, beyond the fact that he is large and has even larger cankles. (I realize I am probably going to hell for saying that.) My cart is blocking him. He toots his little scooter horn and I swear he was revving the engine while glaring at my cart. Many apologies, I move the cart to the end of the bread aisle.

No less than 3-5 minutes later, I am still perusing the bread aisle (yes, it is a hard decision, which buns will compliment my burgers?) and again, my cart is blocking a hover-round. Differently-abled person number two appeared to be actually physically challenged in some way, so I reserved my judgement and moved my cart again.

I appear to have sent out a silent homing signal to the scooter carts while picking out my bread. I wonder if I could also send sonar to the dolphins? (I chose the kaiser, if you were concerned.)

Can you zip me up?

SO, slappy shoe has an interesting item on today... dress pants that zip in the back. I wonder, at what point someone decided this was a good and feasible idea? Maybe it cures the predicament of wearing pants that are too tight and you have trouble zipping? It also could put you in an uncomfortable situation when you forget to XYZ.

The shoes have backs on them today.

She's basically a ninja.

Big Lots. Big Crazy.

So I have been to Big Lots like... 3 times.

Because my dearest Nicolita was discussing thrifty items for decoration I went. I'm having a brunch for my running group on Sat and would like for things to look nice.

Those places stress me out. I tend to walk the periphery, but then you might not find all of the deals (like the Cinnamon pine cones.) I feel that Big Lot's is a separate universe with chintzy pumpkins and nice baskets. Who knew?

It also stole 30 minutes of my life and gave me a panic attack.

I put said pumpkins and pine cones in my buggy (that's what we call a shopping cart down here, ya'll) and walk to the front of the store to check out. There are 2 people ahead of me and 2 checkers--only one is working. Working checker is attempting to scan the 8 bottles of shampoo (seriously?) that the woman is buying and her random assortment of randomness. I stood for 5 minutes (maybe 2) and gave up. I left my buggy, pumpkins and all, like any Big Lot's shopper would... there in an aisle next to bubble gum, a candle holder, pillow, and a media stand--and don't forget the over-sized Christmas Ornaments.

I question your need for 8 bottles of unscannable shampoo. I judge you and your hairy family.

Bow ties at Starbucks

Apparently what annoys me most is various Emory people around my neighborhood. Go figure, I live across the street from Emory. Anywhoo...

Dear elderly Emory professors,

Is wearing a bow tie part of your contract?

Loves,
Me

At the outlet mall

So I was shopping today at the Round Rock outlets--quite superb really. Anyway, I'm in White House Black Market when this girl (who obviously works there) comes in and is talking to some other workers. They talk and she says "Guess what!?!? I'm having a baby!" Then general excitement about the "bambino". They ask what she is in for--she says she's getting married.

When?

On Thursday.

Surprise.

Irritations.

I like to think of myself as a relatively easy going person.  Then I think about all of my neuroses and things that annoy me and I re-think this position.  I think about all of the times I say, "that's so odd" about other people, yet find myself to be perfectly normal and never behave inappropriately (unless I have 2 too many drinks and then, occasionally, I make poor decisions--aka judge people outloud.)

In this situation though, that is neither here nor there. 

I work with this very sweet woman, bless her heart.  Everyday, every EFFING day she wears the loudest often seasonally inappropriate shoes.  It's getting to me ya'll.  I hear her coming.  I know where she is.  They are always slappy shoes.  Never a cute ballet flat--just slap slap slap slap.

It's driving me to drink.  That and constantly asking me a question and then standing at my door after I say, "I'll have to look that up."  No, sweetheart, I didn't mean right now.  I meant, after you loudly walk away, I continue gchatting with friends what I'm doing and I'll get back with ya. 

Speaking of driving me to drink.  I'm looking for some takers--my husband is out of town.

Dear Emory Undergrads...

Dear Emory Undergrads,

Thank you for both entertaining and annoying me while I eat my broccoli cheddar soup at Panera. Although I appreciate your optimism and zest for life, your flagrant elitism, well...gets in my craw (as the southerners say).

Overheard at Panera: A young gentleman, probably 19 or 20, dressed in his finest polo with the collar popped, dining on a bread bowl with his homeboy. They discuss the $1,000 3 day ski weekend they will be taking. Is it just me? Is this normal? I could barely scrape together enough to but a sixer of Nattie light when I was a college student.

The lad shares his dream for the restaurant he will open one day in L.A. "Dude, it's going to be killer. The outside will be all neon, and we will only serve appetizers. Like, you could order 17 appetizers for your table if you want. And they would come down a conveyor belt, and you would have this TV screen in front of you. A lady on the screen would ask you if your food was good. I'm going to do it, dude, I swear."

I didn't want to break it to him, but this is not a novel concept. Actually, I think that sounds like a cross between tapas and Max Hedroom.