Wednesday, December 15, 2010

When they found her Christmas morning at the scene of the attack there were hoof prints on her forehead and incriminating Claus marks on her back

People's idiocy cracks me up.

Case in point: I'm checking the customer voicemail at work on Tuesday, and this voice reminiscent of Marge Simpson's mom grates across my eardrums with "hellooo??? hellooooo?? Is anyone there? Well... it's 10:30 and your message says your business hours are from 9:30 a.m. and I'm supposed to call during business hours and yet NO ONE is answering the phone. My husband is outside in the mall parking lot and I just need to know if you're even located in the mall *note: we actually say in the outgoing message that we are located in the mall* and I need to tell my husband" CLICK. So I move on to the next message, and it's "is anyone even there??? my husband is out in the parking lot and he's just driving around not knowing where to go, and I don't understand how to use this message machine and... HELLO???? HELLOOOOOO???" CLICK.

I literally laughed my ass off.

11 more shopping days until everyone can kiss my butt:)

*Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer*

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

My words are like a rope that's wrapped around my throat wash my mouth with soap for words unfit to quote

Since we last spoke...

Last Friday I decided it was time to bite the bullet and take my ancient (read: 1997) Cavalier in for service, which is guaranteed to result in at least one technician, and my sister (who is a service advisor) and her deskmates all having a good laugh/eye roll at my expense (just to give you an idea, the last time I took her in, it was because her muffler fell off. And yes, it's a girl. Her name is Carmelina). Anyway, my plan was to tough it out until my loan was paid off, and go ahead and buy a new car sometime in the spring, without doing any major work to Carmelina, who, by the way, sounds a lot like a hot muscle car, but is really a very rusty 4-cylinder who has seen much better days. So my sister comes out to the waiting room to tell me the news, much akin to a doctor coming out of surgery to let the family know, yes, your loved one has made it, unfortunately he no longer has a left foot. Ok, maybe not really, but whatever. So Carmelina has, in the last few months, sprung an oil leak somewhere in the engine, and me, fed up with yet another repair, said to hell with it, and bought myself A NEW CAR!!! I am now the proud mama of a 2010 Dodge Avenger SXT, and am fully in love. His name is Rico. I blow kisses to him as I leave him in the parking lot at work in the mornings, and may have checked on him before bedtime, you know, just to make sure he's not lonely.

R.I.P. Carmelina. I'll miss you...

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am knee-deep in the holiday season at work, work being a retail clothing store, and every year I am astounded at the people I encounter in my days. Today, for instance, I had a rather pleasant (sarcastic, for snotty bitch) woman come to the counter with a $15 scarf, who then proceeded to demand that I gift wrap it for her (ok, yes, we are a high-end retailer, but we still don't actually gift-wrap. You can have a box and wrap it yourself), and gave me supreme attitude when I told her I was sorry, we had just run out of tissue paper. I'm thinking this shouldn't be the end of the world, I mean, it's not like I ran out of SCARVES, I ran out of tissue, but she stood there staring at the scarf as though debating whether she now wanted it, and after a moment of awkward silence, said to me (in the most condescending voice) "HOW do you run out of TISSUE during CHRISTMAS?" which, of course, hit my jackass button with a vengeance, causing me to immediately bite back the plethora of sarcastic responses that were swirling around in my head like whirling dervishes. After telling her I was terribly sorry, but it's BECAUSE it's the holiday season that we unfortunately ran out, and have tissue paper on order, and would she like me to box it for her, she stared me down again, and asked for our head office number. I MEAN REALLY?!?!? Are you going to tell me you are actually going to call my office in Toronto to complain that my store didn't have a sheet of paper to wrap her scarf in? Where do these people come from? I would love to have the kind of time some of these people have. And it's still early in the season... let's see what other dumbass issue someone has next week...

This is why malls are always in close proximity to lounges. Customers drive me to drink...

*All Hell for a Basement - Big Sugar*

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Working hard to get my fill everybody wants a thrill paying anything to roll the dice just one more time

What's a girl gotta do to get a Red Wings game televised in Canada? (Yes, I already know... subscribe to NHL Centre Ice. I get it. I also get that I can buy at least 2 new pairs of shoes with the money I would spend on a hockey season's worth of cable bill. Hmmm... cable... shoes... cable... shoes...)

I love hockey games. Great butts. Get over yourself. You were thinking the same thing.

So I am ankle-deep in my 13th Christmas season at work (I'm a retail store manager and regional trainer), and, as such, am compiling my annual top-ten list of un-favourite things (Oprah would hate this) about holiday shoppers. Read on...

10. People who respond with "I'm just looking" to every statement I make, then proceed to make a huge mess in my store, because they have refused my help, and think they can find what they're looking for more efficiently than I can.

9. People who think that it's perfectly ok to let their children run amok in my store, smearing their grubby little hands on mirrors, walls, and, oh yah, $1300 shearling coats.

8. Snapping fingers for service. Ditto for whistling, and, believe it or not, "yoo-hoo-ing". (Yes, I've been "yoo-hoo-ed". By someone who likely thought she was Zsa Zsa Gabor) Let me tell you this: If you do this in a restaurant to your waiter, I put my money on the waiter spitting in your main course. Don't do this. It makes you a patronizing git.

7. Customers who think they can treat me like "the help" because I am in the service industry. Here's a head's up, my friend: I probably make more than you do, AND I'm better looking.

6. People who ask me if a particular item makes their butt look fat. No, it's not the garment. It's your ass.

5. Handing me your empty coffee cup and saying "get rid of this for me, will you?". Um... again, not "the help", and probably make more than you. Throw out your own trash.

4. Acting like what I'm showing you is the most hideous thing you have ever seen, all the while sporting faux-fur lined Crocs, a fanny pack, track pants with "JUICY" emblazoned across the aforementioned humongous ass, and a scrunchie.

3. Women who think I'm trying to hit on their husbands/boyfriends, and proceed to treat me like I'm wearing the scarlet A. Here's the thing ladies... I've dated a lot of guys, and all of them have been way better than your pencil neck boyfriend. You can keep him.

4. Men who hit on me because I'm helping them. Please know this: I am paid to be pleasant. I will laugh politely at your bad jokes, listen earnestly to your "fascinating" stories, and make you want to spend a lot more money than you probably should. This does not mean I want to go home with you when I leave for the day.

3. "Big Spenders" who return their entire purchase the very next day. Thanks for that. You only took up an hour of my time...

2. Women who want me to shoehorn them into skirts and dresses that were never meant to fit over their girth. What did that poor dress ever do to you?

1. People who feel the need to swear profusely while speaking to me in regular conversation. Doubly so people who feel the need to scream and swear when they don't get their way. Lovely. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

I feel better now:)

Funny story... as a die hard Red Wings fan, I am obviously glued to the t.v. during playoff season (because, obviously, the Wings will never miss playoffs), and last year one of my best friends came over to my place a few times while the home games were on, and was convinced that everyone who lives in Detroit must be a huge Journey fan, as they played the song at every game. After I gave him the "gimme a break" face (something I've perfected over the years), and had a good laugh at his expense, I told him to listen to the words, and to get back to me when he figured it out. A week later he got it. Poor guy... not so quick on the uptake...

I though it was funny...

*Don't Stop Believing - Journey*

Monday, November 29, 2010

The poets let a generation down and modern music could be the healing sound it's the only way


Happy Monday. Well, it is for me, as I, a retail manager (a.k.a. work monkey) work almost every weekend, giving me weekdays off instead. Quite lovely really, in its own way. While everyone else is scraping the ice off their cars, fighting Monday morning rush hour traffic, and cursing the beginning of another work week, I am holed up in my cozy living room with a cup of coffee and my buddies Ellen and Rachel. It's a trade-off. I've been working this routine for over 13 years now, and I really don't know how anyone can stand working 9-5 Monday to Friday. I love having a day off, work a couple of days, have another day off, work a few more days, and so on. It's kind of like having early dismissal when I was in school.

God, wasn't life a lot less complicated then?

So... my messed up, insane love(?) life... I swear, I just split up with Velcro Man not even 3 weeks ago, and was wondering how I was ever going to keep myself busy in the months to come, when not one, but 2 boys from last summer get back in touch with me in the last 2 weeks. Hmmm... could the tide be turning? The great part is that neither one of them are looking for anything serious (thank God for that, Velcro Man was practically measuring my ring finger. Bleuch. Although, if I had to get married, I could be convinced to wear this...), so this could be a fun winter after all. Winters in this city can be very long and cold...

So I plugged the car in for the first time Saturday night, as I've been noticing Carmelina doesn't seem too enthused about starting in the mornings lately. As I was walking out to the car yesterday morning, I was thinking "don't forget to unplug Carmelina again". So what do I do? I brush all the snow off the windshield (right in clear view of the extension cord), get back in the car, and reverse out of my space, while wondering "what was that sound?" which, of course, was the sound of my block heater cord being yanked out of my engine compartment. Bugger. I only do it like 4 times a winter. Great work. Guess I'm going to have to go in for service this week after all.

Whatever. boot shopping makes everything better.

*We Will Still Need a Song - Hawksley Workman*

Thursday, November 25, 2010

He's gonna buy a parrot that speaks her language but all it'll say is what are you doing with him let's take off take off take off take off

Have I mentioned boys are stupid?

So the boy I just broke up with a couple weeks ago is apparently not familiar with the terms of the "clean break" I suggested. Or maybe in his mind sending me text messages does not constitute actual contact as there is no face to face, or voice contact. Really, I don't know. So anyway, after getting several "hey how's it going?" I got annoyed and, rather than telling him to take a hike, asked him exactly what was "too independant" supposed to mean? (I know, dumb move. It was bugging me ok? Seriously, most men WANT a woman who is not clingy or needy. Just my luck I get someone who needs someone needier than he is). So he has the nerve to tell me that I am too closed off, and am afraid to let anyone close to me, and implied that not only am I unable to be in a serious relationship, I am also an emotional cripple... -deep cleansing breaths, deep cleansing breaths, deep cleansing breaths...

My darling pink cell may have taken its maiden voyage across the room after I read that one. Serves me right for not just ignoring the guy. Lesson learned. No further contact. If I want an educated opinion of myself I'll get my girlfriends drunk and ask them.

So anyway, not 2 days after I broke it off with Mr. Velcro do I get a text from this guy I had dated briefly in the summer, had a lot of fun with, and it never really ended exactly, but we just kind of lost touch when I had to go out of province for work and he had some kind of seminar in Toronto. Anyway, this one is all about having fun, not getting boring, and has the cutest ass I think I've ever seen. And we're getting together this weekend.

Things are looking up.

So tomorrow is Black Friday. Yah, I know, I'm Canadian, we don't have Black Friday here. But in a fun way we do, because all the stores here do something magical sale-wise in order to deter dumb Canadian shoppers from driving through feet upon feet of snow, over ice-covered highways, and through hostile border crossings in order to save the equivalent of a few bucks once you factor in gas, hotel, and the greasy fried fare that seems to be de rigeur in American restaurants... ...rambling. Anyway, if the retail gods are kind to me, I shall be boot shopping to my little heart's content tomorrow. Sigh. There is nothing like the feel, smell, and sight of a lovely new leather boot to make the world a better place. I firmly believe that if you took all the world leaders and forced them to go shoe shopping together, there would be no more war.

Don't judge me.

*Rico - Matthew Good Band*

Monday, November 15, 2010

Way to go, way to flip off everyone I steal your thunder then I try to bolt But I could stand a little pity now and then

I'm soooooo not 21 anymore:(

How is it I used to be able to go out every night of the weekend until 3 or 4 am, while consuming copious quantities of alcohol, and still be able to work the next day? Granted, it was with a nasty hangover, but still, I did it. Fast forward to this past weekend, when I worked all day Saturday, went out to the club, where I quit drinking at midnight and drank water the rest of the night, was in bed by 3 am, and when my alarm went off at 7 am I truly felt as though I would die. And the feeling of a slow and painful death followed me through the entire day.

Oh well. I survived.

I find it amazing that people actually go to bars to meet people. I mean really... the guys at the bars have not changed a bit. Case in point: As I was walking across the dance floor from the bar back to where my friends were standing, some totally random guy grabs me and starts grinding against my ass. Lovely. That's a great way to introduce yourself to someone. Will this eventually devolve further to the point we just sniff eachother's butts by way of greeting? So after I extricated myself from that particular gentleman, I had a few minutes of downtime before I felt a clammy hand on my arm. After I pulled my arm away once, clammy hand reappeared, this time on my waist. So I turn around and some guy is like right in my face staring at me. Creepy... Is this something that really works on other women?

Actually, I bet it does, if we're judging by the number of women who feel the need to wear micromini's and no underwear (I saw an alarming amount of cooter Saturday night. Amnesia would be pretty nifty right now...) It makes me wonder about the type of gene pool that is being created by bar-hookups.

Yikes. Scary thought...

So going to visit bff in hospital today. She had a sudden intense pain on Thursday, and by Friday she was in the hospital having tests run. Turns out she had a baseball-sized mass on her ovary and had to have emergency surgery to remove it. She has to be in the hospital for at least 3 days, so my plan is to bring her Twilight to read, so I can get her hooked on it and turn her into another Twihard like the rest of my friends.

Mwa ha ha ha ha ha...

*Volcano Girls - Veruca Salt*

Friday, November 12, 2010

Another loose cannon gone bi-polar slipped down couldn't get much lower quicksand's got no sense of humor I'm still laughing like hell



-verb (used with object) Informal.
to bewilder; confound; confuse.

Men are morons.

Just curious... a relationship that has only been going on for 2 months... does it really need to be super serious? Especially in light of the fact that the guy involved had only been separated from his ex-wife for 3 months when he met the girl? Or, in light of the fact that the girl involved had stated quite clearly from the beginning that she is not interested in being labelled someone's girlfriend right away and is happy to just see where the relationship heads?

I didn't think so either...

Welcome to my life. I'm not exactly heartbroken over this loss, but I'm wondering what the thought process is here. We had been dating for exactly 2 months when the issue of my excessive independance and reluctance to be in "serious" relationship came up. My response to this was I didn't realize a 2-month-old relationship needed to be so serious. I mean really, why rush things? I would much rather let things happen organically and see what happens rather than force a relationship to be something it isn't too soon and lose the entire thing. So my solution to this scenario was to suggest a clean break and wish him well in the future. I'm not sure if his intention was to reverse-psychology me into something more "serious", but if it was, boy did that backfire.

Free again.

As much as I had been thinking I was finally ready for an actual relationship, rather than serial dating, this year, I wonder if I really am. Or maybe it's simply a matter of finding THE ONE, whatever the hell that means. I don't mean ready in the sense of getting over any baggage or that kind of crap. I'm past that. But I do think that having been in such a bad relationship with my ex for over 6 years has created a need on my part to maintain as much of my own independance as possible, and maybe this is making it hard for people to get close to me. Maybe I shouldn't try to head-shrink myself. I feel forehead wrinkles forming.

Think I'll go shoe shopping instead. That always solves everything.

*The Sound of Madness - Shinedown*

Sunday, November 7, 2010

The tour was over we'd survived I couldn't wait till I got home to pass the time in my room alone

Sunday not off to the greatest start. My daughter's best friends' mom called me this morning to inform me that my daughter J has been bullying her daughter L, and this has been going on almost since the very beginning of the school year. This came as a surprise to me, as I ask my daughter regularly if there are any problems at school with her friends, and she always says no. So it turns out that L is becoming quite popular in the classroom, as she is a sweet little girl who has no difficulty making friends, and J has been feeling threatened by this, for fear of losing her best friend. Now, we all know that 9-year-olds don't always make the most informed decisions, but my daughter felt that in order to not lose the friendship she needed to try to control L as much as possible, and ended up bullying her in the process. Now L doesn't want to be friends anymore, and is very upset by the continuing bullying behaviour from my daughter. As a parent, I don't know what is worse: having your child be bullied, or be the bully. I think it's actually having the child who is the bully. Not only do you have to know that your child is unhappy enough to feel that he or she needs to resort to physical or emotional abuse of another child, but, having lived through school myself, knowing that the bully is only setting herself up for being disliked and bullied herself in the future, as bullies seldom have good friends of their own. This is also a difficult issue to tackle with the child as well. When I sat down with J to ask her what was going on at school, she tearfully told me she was so afraid of losing L's friendship that she ended up losing it. My first reaction was to be angry with her, and made it clear in no uncertain terms that I did not tolerate her bullying another child, and how could she inflict that type of abuse on another person. I asked her how she felt when she was treated that way herself, and she told me how sad it made her. She is so sorry and regretful about how she lost L's friendship, and wants it back. After about an hour of trying to get to the bottom of all this, I realized that my daughter is facing what most adolescent girls do, extreme insecurity. I now worry about how she is going to fare for the next 8 years of school. I'm terrified that she may now be at high risk of being bullied herself. I remember how difficult high school was, and how much it hurts when your best friend turns her back on you. And I see my daughter, who, at 9, is such a sensitive little girl, and am terrified about what lays ahead for her. You can't pick up a newspaper, or watch the news without there being another story of some tragic outcome of bullying. My action plan going forward is this: get in regular contact with her teacher, keep in touch with other parents of children in the classroom, and continue to educate J on the long term effects of her actions. I don't know anything else to do.

*Adam's Song - Blink 182*

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Move it over dad 'cause I'm a double dipper upside down on the zip zip zipper 1 2 1 2 3 I've got a ticket so ride with me


I get called out of a meeting today by my 9-year-old daughter's school. According to them, she had been throwing up and couldn't stay in school for the rest of the day. I, like every other mom on the planet, am instantly suspicious, as my daughter showed absolutely no signs of being ill today, most notably when she hoovered her way through a man-sized bowl of Honeycomb cereal this morning. So, in uber-suspicious Mom-mode, I ask to speak to her, and after several minutes ascertain that there had been no vomit, just a bit of spitting, and I told her in so many words to suck it up and finish the day. No sooner do I sit back down again in my meeting does my phone start ringing again, with the school secretary telling me (in that tone of voice that suggests exactly what kind of mother she thinks I really am) that my daughter is sitting in the office with her head in a bucket, and would it be too much trouble to ask me to come and pick her up.

I'm an asshole.

Or so I thought, until I got the little con-artist home, and after much observation of her reading a magazine with her feet in the air, giggling with the cat, and showing no sign whatsoever of any illness, I realized I was looking at, well, myself at her age. Bugger. How the hell do you get mad at a kid for doing exactly what you did when you were the same age because the idea of spending another minute in school made you want to vomit? (Or, pretend to vomit.)

I hate getting older. Every day is another "so that's how my parents felt" moment.

*Love Rollercoaster - Red Hot Chili Peppers*

Monday, November 1, 2010

It's tricky to rock a rhyme to rock a rhyme that's right on time it's tricky

I loved White Girls.

So here's the first of what I hope will be many posts on my new blog. Word of advice: don't delete your blog on a whim. I did, like 5 years ago, I think because I was breaking up with my fiance and in an attempt to remove all trace of my life with him I deleted my entire blog. I now realize I could have just deleted any post pertaining to him, along with pictures, but I guess that's why people always call me impulsive (read: pigheaded, irrational, stubborn... you get the picture). So lesson learned. Out with the old, on with the new and all that stuff...

So, highlights of my week... a total creeper reminiscent of Buffalo Bill from the Silence of the Lambs (remember? The dude who was making a woman suit out of his victims and did that creepy dance to that song while he was doing his makeup and hiding his willy) comes into my store and is all "do you have a purple leather jacket in my size?" and all I can think is how homeboy was sizing me up to see if any of my parts would look good on him (thankfully I'm a size 4, and, if you remember the movie, his victims were like size 14's), while marvelling that anyone would for real go out in public with his hair and makeup so poorly maintained. I know, this is how my brain works. Now all I can think about is that scene from Clerks 2

I'm trying to navigate my way through to buy my uncle's Christmas present. I'm having issues. I think it's mainly because I am looking for books, when all I really want to be shopping for is an Alexander McQueen scarf, which causes most people to roll their eyes at me every time I mention it. I think it has something to do with the fact that it is $895. Whatever. I'm not spoiled. I deserve all my stuff. Anyway, my sister insists it's super easy to buy all these books my uncle wants from Amazon, but it keeps telling me that the sellers can't send all these titles to my address. I wonder if it's a Canadian thing. I think I'm going to see if my sister will trade names with me for Christmas if it's so bloody easy. Grrr.

Bah humbug moment.

I'll get over it...

*It's Tricky - Run DMC*