Rant

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Tablecloth, Napkin, What’s the Difference?

So, I was gone for a week. Sorry ’bout that.  I missed you.

(You: Eh? You were gone? Didn’t notice.)

(Me: *Dies.*)

Moving on now!

One day last week, I attended a fancy dinner. White tablecloths, passed hors d’oeuvres, fancy dresses.

The hostess stood up in the middle to give a little speech. I was standing near the back of the room. But instead of listening intently as she thanked us for coming and made some genteel jokes, I was distracted by another guest.

This guest was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. I’m not sure if she was drunk – although she reached for her wine glass every five seconds or so to tip it into her heavily-lipsticked mouth – but she was behaving, well, oddly.

She kept picking her teeth. Which is pretty gross. I mean, I am no stranger to having a shard of shrimp stuck between my canine and my eye tooth. I am accustomed to the utter rage that comes with having a raspberry seed lodged in a molar. So yes, occasionally I have felt the urge to pick my teeth in public.

But she was picking her teeth with her fingers. Which kind of grossed me out, considering I’d been walking around shaking people’s hands all night… And lifting mini crab cakes and phyllo-dough triangles off of plates that had been offered to other guests in the room.

But what was worst of all, and in fact extremely disturbing and barftastic, was that she wiped whatever crud she’d dislodged from her dentures on the tablecloth.

The TABLECLOTH, Internet.

It was one of those things that was so horrifying, you just couldn’t look away.

Clearly, I did nothing but gawk at her and throw up in my mouth a little.

Seriously, I don’t even know what to do in that kind of situation. Do you go up and discreetly hand her a napkin? Do you point and shriek, “How disgusting!” until someone has her removed? Do you leave? Do you throw up, wash your mouth out with a mixture of mouthwash and bleach, and refuse to attend any future dinner parties that include other people?

There is a reason I am a germaphobic hermit, people.

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The Telemarketer That Wasn’t

Shortly after my husband and I moved to Mid-West City for residency, we decided to combine cell phone plans.

Yes, up until that point, my husband had been on his parents’ plan. Which meant that he’d never had the complete joy of paying for his own cell phone.

Combining our plans was not as easy as you’d think. In fact, it was overly complicated by the fact that my husband’s job at the hospital allowed him to get a discount. Which meant that he needed to be the primary account person. But – for some very urgent reason I can no longer remember – it was critical that I still be the primary number.

Oh yes – now I remember. Because I get unlimited minutes to certain numbers (all clients) only if I’m the primary number.

Anyway, so he is the primary account holder… I am the primary phone number… I don’t know what any of that means, except that Verizon telemarketers call ME to ask questions about the account… but I can’t answer any of the questions because I am not the primary account person.

It’s hilarious and awesome.

Every time Verizon calls me, they ask me if my husband is around. And I say no, and then they say, “Oh, well we can’t talk to you because you’re not the primary account holder” or some such. To which I helpfully respond, “Why don’t you make a note in the computer that says DON’T CALL THIS PERSON BECAUSE SHE DOES YOU NO GOOD?”

Doesn’t help, Internet. Not one bit.

(For the record, I try to be very nice and patient with telemarketers. One of my sisters-in-law used to be a telemarketer, and so I picture her on the other end of the line, just trying to make some money.)

Anyway, I got a phone call from Verizon the other day. I knew it was them because they call me every time I get close to going over my text messaging limits.

(Which is like, 10 texts a month. And paying the overage is STILL cheaper than paying an extra $5 a month for text messaging, because I don’t go over it very often. But try to explain that to the Verizon people, and they become very flummoxed. “But… It’s just $5…” they say in utter bafflement. Yeah, $60 a year that I don’t need to spend on texting.)

So I answered the phone, to remind them to NOT CALL ME, and was met with this:

“Hi, this is Verizon wireless. Please hold for a telemarketing representative to discuss your account.”

Ha.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!1!!!!!!111!!

Polite I can do. Patient I can do. But no way am I going to HOLD for a telemarketer! I’m sorry, that is where I draw the line.

To all of the big business CEOs and marketing execs who are no doubt reading this blog, here’s a little tip:

If you are going to make a sales call to a person, to try to cajole money out of said person, make sure your sales representative is ON THE LINE.

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Friday Randomosity: Move It or Lose It Edition

Well, Internet, another week has soared past me like a giant pelican with a half-eaten salmon in its beak.

And honestly? I don’t even know if pelicans exist in the same geographic regions as salmon. But I’m not going to look it up because that’s what kind of week it’s been.

BUT there is a beautiful tree directly outside my window that has made the slow transformation from green to yellow to orange… and now the top half is scarlet… and it looks so beautiful against the bright blue sky that I can’t help but smile.

In other words, it’s time for some randomosity!

* First up – the Asheville post is COMING. I know it is tops on your mind. It’s actually completely written and set up in Word Press, complete with over 40 photos and over 2,500 words. (Yes, now you REALLY want to read it!) But when I was getting ready to post it, my husband looked over my shoulder and noticed that I was using a bunch of his photos… which, DUH, he takes much better photos than I do… And he wants to make sure that photo-stealing-type people (which obviously, does not mean YOU! But he doesn’t know you like I do) can’t copy his photos. So he wants to install some html code on my blog and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. That is me falling asleep. Because once you get beyond basic computer-type things like typing and Googling, well, I turn into a drooling, eye-glazed idiot. I mean, we’re all very lucky I know how to post a photo to my blog. Or post a blog ENTRY for that matter.

Which is a long way of saying, I have to wait until my husband – who is now back at work BOOOOOOOOO – has a few minutes to find and install the appropriate anti-photo-stealing code on my blog. And THEN finally, after much fanfare, you will get to read my super-exciting vacation recap. And zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. That is YOU falling asleep because I’m pretty sure my vacation is of interest purely to me and possibly my mother-in-law who is adorably fascinated by everything remotely related to my husband and his life.

* My three favorite fall dramas are The Good Wife, Blue Bloods, and Parenthood. I am kind of obsessed with Parenthood and I managed to get my husband obsessed with it as well. I am more than a little bit in love with Crosby and Jasmine. The big problem with the show? It simultaneously makes me want kids and makes me NEVER want kids in a billion years. Although, to be honest, everything these days makes me feel that way. Which is a big difference from how I felt two years ago, which is: No kids, ever. Period. But now? Now, my ovaries are deeply conflicted.

* How did a lighthearted bullet about TV become so suddenly serious? Let us avoid any more discussion about the state of my ovaries.

* In good news, my husband got Christmas off! Which means we get to go to my parents’ house for the holiday. Yay! And my parents have kindly and generously offered to pay for our airline tickets as our Christmas gift, which is WONDERFUL. But now my husband and I are looking for plane tickets… And there are only a few flights to the airport near my parents (which is two hours from their house) and only a few seats left on each of those flights… And my husband hates flying – not that I like it AT ALL – so he’s very picky about number of connections and seat placement, which narrows our choices even further… And my mom mentioned that an airport in their town just opened up flights, which is GOOD… But those flights are on teeny tiny prop planes, which is BAD and also TERRIFYING… So now instead of being EXCITED and GRATEFUL, I am feeling ANXIOUS and OBLIGATED to find the cheapest flight even though that may mean making ten connecting flights and flying on a teeny tiny terrifying prop plane.

* Something has been stuck in my craw for a few weeks now… I went out – as in, to a bar – with a friend and her friend. Both girls are about 5 years younger than I am, 20 pounds lighter, and blond. While we were chatting, some Random Dude came up to Friend 2 and said, “Hey, you and your friend are so beautiful. Blah blah blah.” And he was talking about Friend 1. Who, admittedly, IS beautiful. But COME ON. I’m not saying I have any illusions that I am beautiful – only my husband and my dad think that. But I’m not horrifically ugly. And even if I WERE, what the hell, Random Dude? I know you are thinking with your Little Random Dude and not whatever fragments of a brain you may have… But in no way is it cool to approach three girls and say – within earshot of ALL of them – that only two are beautiful.

I think this is bugging me anew because I went out with Friend 1 again recently (who, by the way, is ALSO MARRIED and wears a giant diamond engagement ring and a wedding band) and it happened AGAIN. TWICE. Poor Friend 1… I mean, she was hideously embarrassed. It’s not her fault she’s beautiful. And clearly I am envious of her for her beauty… and my self esteem isn’t enough that I can laugh off these stupid Random Dudes. But I just think it’s poor form for people to do that. I would NEVER do that to someone. It’s hurtful. Even if the person is old and overweight and – god forbid – BRUNETTE, I would never point it out by way of complimenting the person right next to her for being NOT old or overweight or brunette. It’s enough to make me not want to go out with Friend 1, which is stupid. Because I should be able to get BEYOND that. I mean, you can’t go around comparing yourself to other people. You’ll usually come up short in some way. But really. It’s enough to give a gal a complex.

And now that I’ve got THAT off my chest, I am moving on.

* I had gravy for the first time in my life this past weekend. At IKEA. In the food court. It was surprisingly delicious. Especially when used as a dip for fries. Now I am not quite so apprehensive about making gravy for Thanksgiving. However, I still have yet to eat stuffing… I’m not looking forward to that.

* Speaking of Thanksgiving… With liberal help from you, The Pioneer Woman, and an episode of America’s Test Kitchen, I think I am going to try my hand at making some of Thanksgiving eats this weekend! I will report my findings slash failings slash successes.

* Something I have very little tolerance for is disorganization. I’m not talking about, like, a messy home. Lord knows I’m the master of the messy home. I have a pile of unfolded clean laundry sitting on the couch right this second in fact. But when it comes to work matters? Organization should be part of the job description, right? I mean, if you email me because you need me to find an email I sent you a few weeks ago or an email YOU sent ME a few weeks ago… Well, that drives me batty. Because clearly a) the item was not important enough for you to keep track of and b) your time is much more important than mine. That is all I will say about that, although I have many more thoughts on the subject. Many. More. Thoughts.

Instead of going on and on about it, I will direct you to this awesome comic by The Oatmeal.

* I have an IM addiction. I leave my instant messenger on from 9:00 to 5:00 so I can interact with graphic designers and clients and other people. And I am constantly hearing the little message notification noise… Even when no one is IMing me.

* What do you do when you buy some wine and it sucks? I’m not talking about a bottle being corked – which is undrinkable. I’m just talking about a wine that’s gross. Do you dump the bottle? Or do you do what I do, and drink it anyway?

It’s really weird. I’m so not the same way about food. If something tastes gross, I will throw it away with no compunctions. I mean, I’ll whine a little. But I’m not going to eat something yucky.

Yet with wine… It’s somehow different. I brought a bottle of a white blend back from my trip to Napa this summer and just opened it last night. And it was gross. I don’t know if it got old (in which case, that does not bode well for the winery I got it from)… Or if it is on the verge of corking… (Is that even the correct use of that term?) Or if I just thought it was better than it was. But… Yuck. And yet, I drank a whole glass. Now, the nearly-full bottle is still sitting on my counter, waiting for me to drink the rest.

* Do you do anything for Halloween? I think my husband is off that day, but my guess is we’ll just make dinner and watch TV shows off our DVR all night as per usual. I don’t think I’ve actually EVER gotten a trick-or-treater. This is what happens when you grow up in the boonies and then live in dorm rooms or apartments for 11 years. Of course, our lack of Halloween experience has not prevented us from buying plenty of candy. And eating it. By ourselves.

* I am going to a surprise party tonight. It’s filled me with anxiety ever since I first found out about it, even though the person whom we’re surprising is a person I see roughly once every six to eight weeks. When I went out for dinner with him and his wife a few weeks ago, I was so worried that I would blurt out the surprise somehow.  (I didn’t.) And now I’m fretting over the actual party. What if we park in the wrong spot and ruin the surprise? What if my husband doesn’t get out of work early enough for us to make it on time, and we get there just at the wrong time and ruin the surprise? What if I accidentally email the surprisee and ruin the surprise? (I don’t know if I even have his email address, so this is unlikely, and yet I’m still fretting about it.) What if he is reading this blog and I’ve ruined the surprise?

* I had a dream last night that I was eating candy corn. And the kernels (is that what you call them?) were made up of just the orange part. (The yellow part happens to be my favorite part of the candy corn.) (I know this is probably the equivalent of liking green M&Ms better than brown M&Ms.) It was terribly disturbing in the dream, like the world was irreparably flawed.

Now what the hell was my subconscious trying to tell me with THAT one?

* My husband likes to use the phrase, “Move it or lose it.” He’ll say this when I’m standing in front of the silverware drawer, chopping onions, and he needs to get a spoon. He’ll say it when I’m standing in front of the sink, brushing my teeth, and he wants to brush his teeth.

I GUESS I get what it means, in certain situations. Like, if you have your foot under one of those guillotine choppy things and someone wants to see the guillotine’s slicing action, you’d say “Move it [the foot] or lose it [the foot].” Because if you didn’t move your foot, it would get chopped clean off. But I don’t get that phrase otherwise. Certainly not in the context my husband uses it. (Although I suspect he uses it out of context purely to bother me.)

Likewise with “see you on the flip side.” The flip side? Does that mean “the other side of the day”?

Or “it just dawned on me.” I think of this as meaning something like, “the situation was just illuminated.” As when the sun rises and sheds light on a situation.

Or “as easy as pie.” What the hell does that mean? I’ve made pie before, and let me tell you: NOT EASY.

Sigh. English is full of weirdness. I love it, don’t get me wrong… But sometimes I just have to shake my head at all the common phrases I use that I don’t really understand.

What common phrases or sayings just don’t make sense to you?

* I’m thinking of getting my clients holiday gifts this year. My initial thought was to send them each a nice box of Godiva chocolates. But I’m not sure. Is that appropriate? Is it enough? I don’t want to be extravagant or anything, but I do want to thank them for their business. (Seriously. My clients are AWESOME.)

Do you have any thoughts on getting gifts for clients/boss-type people? Any gifts you’ve received from a colleague or business associate that you loved? Or hated, I suppose? Suggestions welcome.

And that, my friends, is all the randomosity I can handle for today. Unless you have some randomosity you’d like to share with me! I always enjoy OTHER PEOPLE’S randomosity.

Have a super weekend Internet! See you on the flip side. Whatever that means.