Wednesday, June 17, 2009

When did I sign up for this?

How is it a woman, upon getting in a relationship with a man, immediately become his social secretary? Where is that rule written?

Granted, I can understand it if the event is her family, or something she is involved in and he isn't. Than it makes sense that she is the coordinator. But what about his friends, his family, his events? Why is she making the calls for events he wants to do? Even when she isn't going??

For example: I have a friend, a divorced father whose daughter and ours are good friends. All of us enjoy riding horses together. For years we would get together as a group and go on trails rides, an overnight trip to the beach, etc. Now suddenly he is dating someone, (granted, a friend of mine) and she is asking me, for him, if we want to ride this weekend. Understand, she can't go, this is for him, his daughter and us.

Are his fingers broken that he can't e-mail or call us? Has he suddenly forgotten our names or phone numbers?? Also, if she wasn't around, he would have his daughter text us.

He isn't the only one. Another friend we had shared an interest with us in science fiction shows, books, etc. We would get together as a group and watch our show and order take out. Then he dated and married another mutual friend. Suddenly he drops off the radar completely because she isn't interested in science fiction, so now he doesn't join us for anything. See his social secretary didn't set it up for him.

So this is not only lame, but causes you to miss out of a lot of fun. And really annoys your friends, just so you know.

I hearby quit as social secretary..

Friday, June 12, 2009

Ice Cream Odyssey

It's Friday, after a very long week of work, rain and stress. I was sitting at lunch with a friend, looking out at the sunshine (Yay!) and eating a very unsatisfying blah lunch when we realized we both had gift cards for Cold Stone Creamery. It took us all of 5 seconds to decide to cut out lunch short, and dash out to get ice cream, after all, we had gift cards, that means it's FREE!

Of course, neither of us knew where the nearest CSC was. but we figured it was close enough to dash out in our 1/2 hour left of lunch and get back. No one would even notice, right? We dashed back up to our desks, and I looked up CRC locations on the web. There was one only 3.8 miles away, and I knew exactly where it was. Since I knew the location, I drove, which meant we took my hulking truck with no air conditioning. Not really a problem, just a quick dash down the road, up two exits on the beltway and we were there.

We head out, chatting happily, when traffic slows to a crawl. Road work right at the entrance to the beltway. Well, ok, that only added an extra 5-6 minute to the trip, right? Meanwhile we had an enjoyable time commenting on the houses, cars and clubhouse we passed. Once on the beltway, we zipped along, took our exit, and found the shopping center with the CSC.

As we are creeping along trying to find a parking space, and dodging little expensive cars 1/3 the size of my truck, we realize from the store fronts we are in a lot more expensive rent district than we thought. There was a sidewalk sale going on, and from how the drivers and people walking were acting they were giving away gold somewhere on that sidewalk.

We parked and browsed the sales on our way to ice cream. Everything was 50% off, great bargains, but 50% off of a $187 sweater is still too much for a sweater to wear to the barn or work. We finally arrive at Cold Stone Creamery, Mecca for those who truly love freshly made ice cream with decadent toppings blended in..mmmmmmm. The world was a happy place.

We walk in and the place smells like freshly made waffle cones and happiness. I give my order (since I had decided what I wanted before even leaving work) and pull out my gift card. But at that moment we got unequivocal evidence the universe hates us, the person behind the counter tells me the credit card machine is broken, and they can only accept cash. But we have gift cards we say, waving our burgundy plastic in the air as evidence. They use the same machine as credit cards. We were devastated.. we didn't bring any cash, all we had was drivers license, keys and the gift cards. (no sense advertising to the whole office we were going somewhere by bringing purses) But, we protested, we drove all the way from work to here just for ice cream! The youngling behind the counter just looked at us.

We walked back to our now hot from being in the sun truck. How would we now make it through the rest of the day? We felt like a 5 year old who had been shown a back yard full of swimming pools and popsicles who was then sent back to a desk to do math homework. Then we had to fight traffic to get back to the beltway.

As we were driving along, bemoaning our lack of ice cream (and the total lack of joy in the world right then) my friend asked did I know where a neighboring road is. Yes, I said, then she said there was another CSC on that road. We looked at each other, and decided we were already out, and half way to that road, why not. Plus, it was for FREE ice cream!

Well, traffic wasn't as smooth in this area of town, and when we get to the road, we decide we need to go right, to find the ice cream. We creep along, stop light to stop light, roasting in the sun and my no air conditioner truck, peering in each shopping center to see if that was the one. Of course neither of us was really sure where it was. after several miles and about 580 stoplights, we realize we were going the wrong way. I finally get some common sense, and call 411 on my cell phone, and contact the store for directions.

Yep, we had gone the wrong way. Some kind person finally let us make a left U-turn and we went back though all the stoplights, creeping along with about 9 million other people in cars (why aren't these people at work instead of getting between us and FREE ice cream??) Until finally, we see on our right the glorious sign of ice cream nirvana. Not being in quite the same sort of neighborhood as the last one, not only was parking easy, but fellow ice cream seekers were polite, even friendly as we went in.

Out first question was 'Is the Credit card machine working?' Yes, they assured us it was. We then proceeded to explain our journey, with all it's trials and set backs. We also explained we were determined to have our ice cream, come hell or high water. Not a problem, not only did they prepare wondrous creamy goodness, but the owner came out, and when we explained our odyssey to ice cream nirvana, he gave us coupons for free goodies for the next trip.

Joy. I had a waffle cone with coffee ice cream, chocolate swirls, Heath bar and nuts. As I was getting back in the truck, I realized I had on a white shirt. Not good, but I was determined not to waste a drop anyway. I actually got half way back to the office before I dripped on the shirt. *sigh* But one drip isn't bad, and I do have my Clorox pen.

We get back to the office just as we finish. I decide to get a last drip out of the cone, and throw away the bottom (I was going through sugar/coffee overload by now anyway). I tilt the cone up, with it's little paper sleeve still on it, and about a gallon of melted coffee and chocolate poured down my face, neck and shirt. So much for my little white top with the embroidered daisys. Now I get to spend the rest of my (short) workday sticky, with my jacket buttoned up, and on a caffeine and sugar high.

It was so worth it.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Food memories

I went down to lunch today, and was presented with this:

Now this may look innocent, but it brought back disturbing memories of my childhood. Fried chicken, yummy; Mac-n-cheese, yummy; collard greens, nooooooooo!

While I grew up mostly in the south, my mother is English. So I got to the 2nd grade before being presented with collard greens as a menu item. My father was in the Air Force, and we ended up in NC where I went to a small town elementary school.

Now remember, this was back in the 60's, when there was still paddling in schools. Teachers held the power of God over students and we obeyed them without question. Practically every lunch at that school included greens. They were cheap and easy to serve, but for someone whose only experience with slimy green things was walking through cow pastures, it wasn't appealing.

My teacher had a rule, you eat everything on your plate. Period. No arguing. So I would barter my desert to whomever would eat my greens for me. No amount of threats or cajoling would convince me to eat that. It was stressful, to say the least. We had to wait until she wasn't around, and I had to be sitting near an agreeable fellow student. A couple of times I had been caught with greens left on my plate, and had been paddled. It didn't work, I still wasn't going to eat them. I wasn't normally disobedient, or defiant, but I refused to be browbeaten.

Finally my teacher caught me trading desert for greens consumption, and she was furious. After a brief bout of shouting, she told me I would sit there, until I ate the greens. The rest of my class went back to the room, and I sat there. Bells rang for recess, and I sat there. The final bell rang, other students went and got on buses, and still I sat there. No one ever came back in the cafeteria to check on me. Everyone left and the school was locked up.

Hours later, I was sitting there quietly crying when the police and my mother arrived. When I wasn't on the bus, my mother had checked the entire route, all my cousins homes, and finally called the chief of police and got the school unlocked.

I wasn't there when my mother spoke to the school board about the teacher (this wan't the first incident with her) but my class had a new teacher the next week.

I still won't eat greens. (shudder)

And now for something completely different...

Ok, there is a crisis..and it's happening in homes and offices across America. This crisis is a severe lack of..Bathroom Etiquette.

It's not like there isn't information out there..
Women's Health Magazine Bathroom Etiquette Guide
Urban Etiquette Top 5 Rules
There is even a website dedicated to educate the world on courtesy in the bathroom
The International Center for Bathroom Etiquette
Goucher College even published a tongue in cheek version for college students.

There is a lot of humor out there, but that often has a grain of truth in it.
Male Bathroom Rules
Female Restroom Etiquette

A lot of the comments are the same, wash your hands, flush the toilet, etc etc. But I have a few especially annoying habits to address.

The Bathroom, even at work, should be a haven of peace and quiet. It should be clean, and smell faintly of Lysol or Clorox. Visitors to this realm should be courteous, patient, and neater than they are at home. There should always be sufficient paper products available. Since the majority of public restrooms are separated by sex, there should NEVER be surprises on the seat in a ladies restroom!

I realize this fantasy restroom doesn't exist, but I seriously don't understand why the seat in a ladies bathroom has urine spilled all over it. Are men sneaking in to the ladies restroom? Do we have a huge number of cross dressing guys out there? I can understand not wanting to sit on the seat of a grimy gas station bathroom, or worrying about mystery germs on the seat. But since there are seat liners and plenty of toilet paper available, I don't understand why women are squatting above the toilet high enough to splash (and therefore on themselves as well..ew!). Don't even get me started on the mystery puddles on the floor. Why would you leave that for someone to step in and track all over the workplace?

Teenagers in High School talk on their cell phones in the bathroom, actually they seem to have the cellphones permanently bonded to them. But there is a vast difference between 16-18 year old kids, and professional women in business suits yakking about their personal life (or worse, WORK!) while doing their business.

If the door is closed and locked, someone is in there. You don't need to knock, The door is locked! You can't get in until that person is done. Period. Really. It's not a hard concept to grasp. This is especially true at home. If the door is closed, stay out. Unless someone is laying on the floor bleeding, you don't need to talk to the person who is trying for a moment of privacy in the bathroom. You don't need to ask if they are ok, or what they are doing, or what the plans are for the rest of the day. Yes we are ok, what we are doing is private, and the rest can wait. Guys especially need to listen to this because you really don't what to know what we are doing, trust me on that.

Ok, can we recap those rules? They really go for men or women.
1. Don't pee on the seat.
2. Clean up whatever you spill.
3. Silence is golden.
4. If the door is closed (or you see shoes under the door) wait patiently and quietly at the far side of the room until that person exits.

That's only 4, but they cover a lot. Lets all have happy bathroom experiences from now on. Oh, and appologies to gas station bathrooms, that is a stereotype which is largely untrue these days. I have been in some pristine bathrooms at gas stations, kudos!

Here is a classic e-mail that made the rounds a few years back.
1999 Survival Guide