that it already June 17. Where has the time gone? That statement makes me feel old...didn't our parents say that? Now we say it. I suppose because we too are getting old...well, older.
Today was one of those perfect spring days. I loved watching the sun dance with the clouds. I also thought about the time going quickly and not wanting summer to slip away...it sometimes has a tendency to do that when you work retail hours. As I type that, I realize that the hours are not the cause...it is me. I don't feel sometimes that I am present in all areas of my life because I get so drawn into the stuff with work.
I had a conversation with a friend a couple of days ago about his job. He is a store manager for Subway and is REQUIRED to work at least 50 hours per work. I was taken back. He is okay with it because of good benefits etc. But what the heck is wrong with us when working fifty plus hours a week has become a requirement and more and more a norm?
I remember the first time I went to Hilton Head with Connie and Kay. We had gone to a bar at Marriott Hotel that was on the beach and met a Dutch couple who were on vacation. They had started in Detroit because they had gone to see Bruce Springsteen and had worked their way around the country to South Carolina. They had been on vacation for about three weeks when we met them and were traveling for a couple more weeks before going home. Their five weeks of vacation was the norm in the Netherlands. They were slightly appalled when we told them we generally only got two weeks a year.
I recently figured out that I have about six weeks of vacation time accrued which actually was a bit of a shock. I have also been advised that one should use your sick time first because if you leave a company then they would have to pay you your vacation time...which of course played into my insecurity issues which have been raising their ugly little heads lately but that's a whole other blahblah.
I will be happy to get my two weeks of vacation this year but more importantly, I want to DO things this summer.I don't want the season to slip away unmarked.
Here is my Ten List of Things I Want to Do this Summer.
1. Dig out my roller skates. The streets are pretty smooth in our neighborhood so I think that potential for damage could be minimal.
2. Plant pumpkins.
3. Get a croquet set and use it. We could have the Croquet X-Games on our lawn...huge tree roots in the front yard.
4. Have a slumber party.
5. Read Tolstoy in my bathing suit.
6. Find a pool to read Tolstoy at in my bathing suit.
7. Ride my bike way more. My streamers want the wind in their plastic.
8. Perfect a Southern accent and get a hand held fan in preparation for the Dog Days of Columbus humidity. I would then be able to use both when we...
9. Start Sunday open house cookouts.
10. Lay in the grass and look up at the clouds or the stars and just dream.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Ooooohhhh...so that's how they did that!
We got our stimulus check in the mail yesterday.(YEAH!) We thought from what we had been mailed that we would be receiving $1200 (BIGGER YEAH!) The check was for $1013 and change (slight disappointment...let's not be greedy) but I was confused by the difference.
Today we get the letter of explanation.
We owed taxes last year because of Bob's paper route...had been paying all year...and the difference in the check was the $186 and change that we still owed. Fine and good...our debt is paid and that is another YEAH!!
HOWEVER...the letter of explanation referred to our check for the amount of $1013 and change as "an overpayment of taxes from 2007". Call me dumb... but what does that mean? Did we really over pay on our taxes and we are going to be getting another check to stimulate us? Of course not because this check was clearly marked as 2008 stimulus check.
My observations about receiving said check:
1. Happy to have it because now we can buy a real couch for the Boy's Room and make it a better place to watch football. I have been told that it dampens the atomosphere of watching football games when you are drinking a beer sitting on a daybed covered in an antique crocheted bedspread.
2. We might actually be able to put something in a savings account...I have heard tell of them.
3. A hell of lot of people in the USA must have overpaid on their taxes.
Today we get the letter of explanation.
We owed taxes last year because of Bob's paper route...had been paying all year...and the difference in the check was the $186 and change that we still owed. Fine and good...our debt is paid and that is another YEAH!!
HOWEVER...the letter of explanation referred to our check for the amount of $1013 and change as "an overpayment of taxes from 2007". Call me dumb... but what does that mean? Did we really over pay on our taxes and we are going to be getting another check to stimulate us? Of course not because this check was clearly marked as 2008 stimulus check.
My observations about receiving said check:
1. Happy to have it because now we can buy a real couch for the Boy's Room and make it a better place to watch football. I have been told that it dampens the atomosphere of watching football games when you are drinking a beer sitting on a daybed covered in an antique crocheted bedspread.
2. We might actually be able to put something in a savings account...I have heard tell of them.
3. A hell of lot of people in the USA must have overpaid on their taxes.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
...so that's how I look
I got a call today at work from an assoicate at our Worthington store to look for for an item for a customer. We got talking. She said that she had been working with a couple who had been in our store yesterday that I had helped. They told her that they thought I was great and liked me...always nice to hear.
Their description of me to her...
"The small girl with the funny hair and the funny shoes."
Tickled me and made me laugh.
Hope everyone has a lovely weekend and don't forget to remember your Mom tomorrow.
Their description of me to her...
"The small girl with the funny hair and the funny shoes."
Tickled me and made me laugh.
Hope everyone has a lovely weekend and don't forget to remember your Mom tomorrow.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Something to say...maybe
I just read a post by a friend of mine who wondered if he didn't have anything to say or was being just lazy about blogging. We are all lazy in some form or another and we all have something to say ...it's just that sometimes nobody listens, or in this case reads, when we want them to.
I started this bloggy thing nigh on a year ago after doing "(W)holes" and heard other castmates talking about it. I, of course, wanted to be a cool kid too and so kind of found out how to do it. (The castmates who already were involved in blogging I consider exceptionally cool and wonderful people and it was kind of like a wonderful thing that they shared this secret with me. Something I never would have stumbled upon on my own.)
...but I do love words. I think that is part of the reason I love acting or maybe have learned to appreciate words more because of it. I love the way words sound. I love how some of them just taste in your mouth or ring in your ears. You can paint colours with words and intonations. Ahhh...but it is the written word here that we are talking about because blogging is about the written word.
Everyone who sits at their computer and types a blog is writing their biography or their monologue about life. We want to be Tolstoy, Steinbeck, Albee, Wasserstein or whoever you admire. We want to be important; we want to know that what we say matters. It is our humaness in us that makes us want to connect...to have people read us, post comments and acknowledge our existence.
I had someone post a comment on one of my blogs that I didn't know and at first it kind of creeped me out. I guess I thought that nobody except people I knew would ever know about this...but how silly is that? You write it...it is OUT THERE for any one who cares to find it. It is scary and intimidating. The comments were kind and maybe made me feel a little like I did have something to say worthwhile. (I have reread my essays and I think I am sentimental, angry, nostalgic, boring, obsessive and wish I was way more clever and witty than I am.)
After a post, you go back and check for comments...cause you just do. It's kind of like turning in an English paper but it's a diary kind of thing. When nobody comments, it sometimes feels like you're sitting at the bad lunch table in high school.
What is the point of this rant? We all want to matter and to be heard. Your challenge...listen to someone you take for granted and don't hear in the places you least expect...the grocery store, the gas station, the line at the movies, your waitperson. Engage...ask questions.
Everybody has something to say and we all have such a need to be heard.
I started this bloggy thing nigh on a year ago after doing "(W)holes" and heard other castmates talking about it. I, of course, wanted to be a cool kid too and so kind of found out how to do it. (The castmates who already were involved in blogging I consider exceptionally cool and wonderful people and it was kind of like a wonderful thing that they shared this secret with me. Something I never would have stumbled upon on my own.)
...but I do love words. I think that is part of the reason I love acting or maybe have learned to appreciate words more because of it. I love the way words sound. I love how some of them just taste in your mouth or ring in your ears. You can paint colours with words and intonations. Ahhh...but it is the written word here that we are talking about because blogging is about the written word.
Everyone who sits at their computer and types a blog is writing their biography or their monologue about life. We want to be Tolstoy, Steinbeck, Albee, Wasserstein or whoever you admire. We want to be important; we want to know that what we say matters. It is our humaness in us that makes us want to connect...to have people read us, post comments and acknowledge our existence.
I had someone post a comment on one of my blogs that I didn't know and at first it kind of creeped me out. I guess I thought that nobody except people I knew would ever know about this...but how silly is that? You write it...it is OUT THERE for any one who cares to find it. It is scary and intimidating. The comments were kind and maybe made me feel a little like I did have something to say worthwhile. (I have reread my essays and I think I am sentimental, angry, nostalgic, boring, obsessive and wish I was way more clever and witty than I am.)
After a post, you go back and check for comments...cause you just do. It's kind of like turning in an English paper but it's a diary kind of thing. When nobody comments, it sometimes feels like you're sitting at the bad lunch table in high school.
What is the point of this rant? We all want to matter and to be heard. Your challenge...listen to someone you take for granted and don't hear in the places you least expect...the grocery store, the gas station, the line at the movies, your waitperson. Engage...ask questions.
Everybody has something to say and we all have such a need to be heard.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Playing Nice with the Other Kids...
I hated my job today and I really didn't like myself so much while I was doing it.
Our company's stock is not doing very well right now so "they" are tightening things up...the controllables. This theorectically is a good thing. One of the fixes is the hangers that we give away. We usually give out the really nice hangers that we use in the store. Previously, we had gone to "give away" hangers...thick plastic things that our customers didn't like....they wanted the good stuff. So after complaint calls (which is a no-no in Chicoland), we ditched the give away hangers...literally. Our store alone THREW OUT at least five boxes. (Do the math...we have over five hundred stores). We went back to giving away the good hangers...to the tune of (I swear I read this in an e-mail) $3.12 million. So now we are back to the ugly hangers and there will be calls AGAIN...and happiness will reign throughout the land.
We are also on a two-two-two schedule...which means that there are two people covering the floor on any given shift. Theorectically, another sound practice...except we are trained in "MAPS" (Most Amazing Personal Service)and do our best to deliver and our customers expect it. If there are five or six customers in the store and only two of us...once again do the math. There are people to attend to and counsel with, find stuff for, cashier, clean out dressing rooms, rehang the clothes and put them away, all the while giving "her" the best shopping experience she has ever had. (In between all of this fun, there are markdowns to be done and windows to be changed and whatever other stuff can be thought up to boost the bottom line). I do think someone at headquarters watched that damn "Enjoli" comnercial from the late seventies one too many times..."I can bring home the bacon...fry it up in a pan"...blahblahblah.
I value compassion and being nice, or as I refer to it...playing nice with the other kids. We should all try to that even if we haven't had our naps. Today I so felt like I just wanted to scream at people..."You don't need that! You don't even want that and you're just going to bring it back along with pants you spilled bleach on and you will call defective because they have spots on them (HAPPENED...REALLY!!!) Those pants are way too tight and your ass looks like a barn (even though you want me to tell otherwise) and some stuff you just ain't gonna find here even though you want us to so you can use (and we will) your expired 50% coupon from December 2007because you have it in your hand." I usually can deal with this on a daily basis in a fairly rational and pleasant manner....at least I hope so.
Today, not so much. We had a woman in the store carrying an armload of clothes. Each of us approached her and asked if she needed a dressing room and we were all rebuffed...sternly. She finally goes into a room and there were at least 12 other customers in the store...once again, today's theme...do the math. When she left after buying one item (cool...that's all she wanted) Mary called me over to the dressing room she had used. All three rods had at least 10 hangers with stuff on them and on the floor was a pile a foot and half high...the important point of this sentence is ON THE FLOOR. Not on the bench, ON THE FLOOR.
I felt incensed. It may be irrational. I know I work in a service industry and that is my job... to wait and serve. I truly do want people to come in our store and feel good and be happy when they leave, whether they have purchased something or not. We do our best to be respectful to our customers and of them. Why can't our customers do the same for us? It is not the majority of people who are like this and it does seem to run in streams...
This week, we in Chicoland know what it is to be salmon.
Our company's stock is not doing very well right now so "they" are tightening things up...the controllables. This theorectically is a good thing. One of the fixes is the hangers that we give away. We usually give out the really nice hangers that we use in the store. Previously, we had gone to "give away" hangers...thick plastic things that our customers didn't like....they wanted the good stuff. So after complaint calls (which is a no-no in Chicoland), we ditched the give away hangers...literally. Our store alone THREW OUT at least five boxes. (Do the math...we have over five hundred stores). We went back to giving away the good hangers...to the tune of (I swear I read this in an e-mail) $3.12 million. So now we are back to the ugly hangers and there will be calls AGAIN...and happiness will reign throughout the land.
We are also on a two-two-two schedule...which means that there are two people covering the floor on any given shift. Theorectically, another sound practice...except we are trained in "MAPS" (Most Amazing Personal Service)and do our best to deliver and our customers expect it. If there are five or six customers in the store and only two of us...once again do the math. There are people to attend to and counsel with, find stuff for, cashier, clean out dressing rooms, rehang the clothes and put them away, all the while giving "her" the best shopping experience she has ever had. (In between all of this fun, there are markdowns to be done and windows to be changed and whatever other stuff can be thought up to boost the bottom line). I do think someone at headquarters watched that damn "Enjoli" comnercial from the late seventies one too many times..."I can bring home the bacon...fry it up in a pan"...blahblahblah.
I value compassion and being nice, or as I refer to it...playing nice with the other kids. We should all try to that even if we haven't had our naps. Today I so felt like I just wanted to scream at people..."You don't need that! You don't even want that and you're just going to bring it back along with pants you spilled bleach on and you will call defective because they have spots on them (HAPPENED...REALLY!!!) Those pants are way too tight and your ass looks like a barn (even though you want me to tell otherwise) and some stuff you just ain't gonna find here even though you want us to so you can use (and we will) your expired 50% coupon from December 2007because you have it in your hand." I usually can deal with this on a daily basis in a fairly rational and pleasant manner....at least I hope so.
Today, not so much. We had a woman in the store carrying an armload of clothes. Each of us approached her and asked if she needed a dressing room and we were all rebuffed...sternly. She finally goes into a room and there were at least 12 other customers in the store...once again, today's theme...do the math. When she left after buying one item (cool...that's all she wanted) Mary called me over to the dressing room she had used. All three rods had at least 10 hangers with stuff on them and on the floor was a pile a foot and half high...the important point of this sentence is ON THE FLOOR. Not on the bench, ON THE FLOOR.
I felt incensed. It may be irrational. I know I work in a service industry and that is my job... to wait and serve. I truly do want people to come in our store and feel good and be happy when they leave, whether they have purchased something or not. We do our best to be respectful to our customers and of them. Why can't our customers do the same for us? It is not the majority of people who are like this and it does seem to run in streams...
This week, we in Chicoland know what it is to be salmon.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Time Changes Everything...
Bob and I got to be home together today in the middle of the week...what a lovely treat.
We now have a lawn mower of our very own. We bought it ...it's ours. I know that probably doesn't seem like such a big deal to the homeowners out there but it's all about perspective. Bob has taken over the lawn care (and we will get a break on rent in the summer) so hence the purchase. Buying a lawnmower makes me feel like a grown up....they are something that your parents bought. The lawnmowers we have used at our previous residences were left by previous residents or provided by landlords. I swear the last one was held together by duct tape and rope. I couldn't start it unless I held the start thingy, stood on the lawnmower and jumped backwards really far and fast.
Bob mowed and I pulled out ivy. We have a nice patio out back with pretty trees and a spot that was landscaped at some point in time but the ivy has just overtaken all. Working in a garden is something that I am warming up to basically because I really don't like to get dirty. Didn't like it as a kid and still don't...but I'm learning.
Our last project of the day was going to be painting our new to us wicker furniture. We bought a set from one of the ladies that I work with and Bob wanted it to be Hunter Green. We washed the furniture, let it dry in the sun and took aim with the spray paint only to find we have six cans of defective paint. It sprayed for a minute and then dribbled down the side of the can. We'll be finishing the chairs another day.
Here is the real point...my nostalgia epiphany of the day. I went for a walk down our street and passed an apartment that was exactly the same as the one that Mario and I lived in when we first married many moons ago. (There are about three sets of these buildings scattered throughout Grandview on differant streets.) The apartment was empty so I looked in the window. I was amazed. It was SOOO TINY... yet at the time we lived in that apartment it seemed huge to me.
...but it was huge then. It held my world and the people I loved most at the time. My son began his life there...I had a best friend that I shared coffee with almost everyday while our kids took naps...my Mom wallpapered the kitchen for me when I GREAT with child (I can still remember the really pretty brown, cream and turquoise floral paper...sounds gross but it wasn't). So much life held in such a small space.
I haven't seen or talked to Mario in years...and after so many years, I really can't remember what went wrong with us. It just did and neither one of us had the energy...or the inclination...to fix it. We were just kids...
I see young couples in the grocery store with their children and it just gobsmacks me. They just look so young. I wonder if that's how Mario, Cory and I looked to people our age then....and yes, we did. We just didn't have all the tattoos and piercings but probably looked just as alien...and just as hopeful.
The hopefulness I felt all those years ago still continues...that was my epiphany. I have a man in my life who is challenging, compassionate, loving and so many things that I can't even pull the words forth...I have friends I love and who love me back and like me MOST of the time...I still have dreams...and hope that those dreams will come true.
Dream big. A space can't stop dreams...only an outlook.
We now have a lawn mower of our very own. We bought it ...it's ours. I know that probably doesn't seem like such a big deal to the homeowners out there but it's all about perspective. Bob has taken over the lawn care (and we will get a break on rent in the summer) so hence the purchase. Buying a lawnmower makes me feel like a grown up....they are something that your parents bought. The lawnmowers we have used at our previous residences were left by previous residents or provided by landlords. I swear the last one was held together by duct tape and rope. I couldn't start it unless I held the start thingy, stood on the lawnmower and jumped backwards really far and fast.
Bob mowed and I pulled out ivy. We have a nice patio out back with pretty trees and a spot that was landscaped at some point in time but the ivy has just overtaken all. Working in a garden is something that I am warming up to basically because I really don't like to get dirty. Didn't like it as a kid and still don't...but I'm learning.
Our last project of the day was going to be painting our new to us wicker furniture. We bought a set from one of the ladies that I work with and Bob wanted it to be Hunter Green. We washed the furniture, let it dry in the sun and took aim with the spray paint only to find we have six cans of defective paint. It sprayed for a minute and then dribbled down the side of the can. We'll be finishing the chairs another day.
Here is the real point...my nostalgia epiphany of the day. I went for a walk down our street and passed an apartment that was exactly the same as the one that Mario and I lived in when we first married many moons ago. (There are about three sets of these buildings scattered throughout Grandview on differant streets.) The apartment was empty so I looked in the window. I was amazed. It was SOOO TINY... yet at the time we lived in that apartment it seemed huge to me.
...but it was huge then. It held my world and the people I loved most at the time. My son began his life there...I had a best friend that I shared coffee with almost everyday while our kids took naps...my Mom wallpapered the kitchen for me when I GREAT with child (I can still remember the really pretty brown, cream and turquoise floral paper...sounds gross but it wasn't). So much life held in such a small space.
I haven't seen or talked to Mario in years...and after so many years, I really can't remember what went wrong with us. It just did and neither one of us had the energy...or the inclination...to fix it. We were just kids...
I see young couples in the grocery store with their children and it just gobsmacks me. They just look so young. I wonder if that's how Mario, Cory and I looked to people our age then....and yes, we did. We just didn't have all the tattoos and piercings but probably looked just as alien...and just as hopeful.
The hopefulness I felt all those years ago still continues...that was my epiphany. I have a man in my life who is challenging, compassionate, loving and so many things that I can't even pull the words forth...I have friends I love and who love me back and like me MOST of the time...I still have dreams...and hope that those dreams will come true.
Dream big. A space can't stop dreams...only an outlook.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
