Peace on Earth and Goodwill towards men...and stuff

To me, this is one of the funniest events I have ever witnessed. Okay, it was the most recent funny event, so it ranks high...VERY high.
It's Friday, and I'm riding the elevator up to my office with a coworker I will call "Doofus." I'm wearing dress pants and a shirt I just bought at GAP, that's just as cute as it can be. I'm looking good and feeling similar. Dang, it's Friday! What's better than Friday? Well, Saturday is. But on Friday, it's the best day of the week so far, so it's a pretty awesome day. I look at Doofus, and he's wearing jeans. We NEVER EVER wear jeans on Fridays. We're constantly threatened that jeans on Saturdays will soon be a thing of the past. *sniffle* So, I say, "Doofus, jeans on Friday?" Honestly, I wasn't trying to be an ass or anything, I just thought I had missed a memo or something. He sort of rolled his eyes and said he didn't even realize what day it was. Ummm...correct me if I'm wrong, but Friday is the first of the cool days of the week. Friday is like Coolest Day of the Week Eve, then Saturday is the Coolest Day of the Week, and Sunday is the official Day after the Coolest Day of the Week. It's not a new concept. I've known this information for years. Almost 28 years. It never changes...unless you work shiftwork. Hard work. You know, 7-3, 3-11, 11-7. We don't work shiftwork in higher education. So, he said that our boss, who I will call "Pissface," would just have to "deal with it." If you knew "Pissface," you would know that he doesn't deal well with anything. And, if I know him like I think I do, "Pissface" is not going to handle this jean situation well. Let me add that "Doofus" is wearing a too-big sweater and clunky Timberland looking lumberjack boots with said jeans. He's what I call "urban." So, I go to my office for about 30 minutes. When I need "Doofus" to check on a student's account for me, I can't find him. So, I ask "Pissface" where he is. He said that he was in the bathroom changing clothes. I told "Pissface" that I had noticed his outfit in the elevator, and asked if Mrs. "Doofus" brought him extra clothes. "Pissface" said that he told "Doofus" he could not wear those clothes on a Friday, so "Doofus" asked if he could look for something that might fit him in the Goodwill box. Ummm...we have had this "Dress for Success" box for Goodwill to give business clothes to those less fortunate who are looking for jobs to get off welfare, etc. It's a great cause, but my boss is the only person that's made donations to it. Not because the rest of us are jerks, but because we work in a downtown area, and have to walk a few blocks from where we park to get to our building, then take an elevator up to our offices. Ummm...you can drive through Goodwill's drop-off area and save yourself a heck of a lot of trouble. So, that's what us normal people do. "Pissface" tells "Doofus" to help himself. "Pissface" is about 5'5" and maybe 240 lbs, while "Doofus" is probably 5'9" and maybe 180 lbs.
So, he finds a pair of slacks (or capri pants, if I'm going to be fashionably accurate) and a dress shirt. He kept the lumberjack boots on to complete this horrific ensemble. He actually wore the outfit all day. I thought that he might go home (about 10 minutes away from the campus) on his lunch hour to change, but he acted like he enjoyed his shopping spree a little. If only there had been dress shoes in the box, if "Pissface" ever mentioned to us that we should spend a day in his shoes, I could chime in and say, "Dude, Doofus already did." :) I think I get such a kick out of this story because when I was a child, my school had a lost and found box, and if you pissed/crapped your pants, then you had to get something to wear out of that box, which thankfully, I never did. Most of the time is was bell-bottom corduroys with elastic waists, which were not cool in 1985. You could tell when someone had an accident because they had stupid looking clothes on. So, had I not known better, I would have thought that "Doofus" had crapped his pants on the job.

Valentine's Day

I told the husband that I didn't want any roses for Valentine's Day, because I was going to see George Strait in a couple of weeks for my Valentine's present. I guess I didn't make it clear enough, because I didn't say "Don't send me any FLOWERS." So, he followed orders and didn't send roses, but sent these awesome purple orchids. He's so cute! I didn't get a gift, which I was happy about. I did get a funny card, which is SO him! We're card people. He got me an oversized Wizard of Oz Valentine with Dorothy hugging the Scarecrow on the front, and the inside said something like "I love you so much I could squeeze the stuffing out of you" I hate to tell him that it's not stuffing. I'm big boned. Really. Then, he wrote something incredibly silly on the inside AND drew a silly picture of himself and Jackson. I got him some chocolates, some new clothes, and a card with sound from Hallmark. It has Shrek on the front, and it says something like, "Guess who's been eating your chocolates." When you open it, it lets out a loud, long belch that sounds just like me. It's awesome! I played it on the phone for my best pal, Laura, and she was totally convinced it was me and not a greeting card. It was almost like a personalized card just for me or something. I wrote a mushy little note on the inside, so I appeared a little more serious. Ya know - get the focus more on Valentine's Day and less on the amazing bodily sounds I enjoy hearing and making.

Catching up...

I had a huge surprise last Thursday when my parents flew from Missouri to Virginia and DIDN'T TELL ME. The husband was in on it for quite some time, and they all pulled one over on me for the first time EVER!!! I had to work late on Thursday, so when I started home, I called the husband to see if he wanted me to pick something up for dinner. He said not to stop, because he had something special at home. He was working on a research paper, but I didn't put anything together like he didn't have time to cook anything, let along something "special." I assumed it was fish, because fish is special to me and I eat it every chance I get. Well, I was on the phone with my mom (which I had no idea she was in my house), and I told her that I was coming home and I had something "special" waiting for dinner. She told me to call her later and tell her what it was. I told her to just hold on a second, because I was walking in the door. When I opened the door, I said, "meatballs?" I looked at the husband and said, "you don't know how to make porcupine meatballs!" like the meatball snob that I am. Then, I noticed potatoes boiling as if they were soon going to be mashed potatoes. Real mashed potatoes, too? What? Then, with me still on the phone with her, my mom and dad come running out of the guest bedroom. I should have known that the husband couldn't make the family meatballs by himself. I can't believe that he actually kept a secret from me! We spent the weekend eating, shopping and just hanging out at the house. My Dad painted my cabinets, and they look way cool! Pictures are coming soon - I promise! We also took in some Dance Dance Revolution. Mom was pretty good, and Dad was really entertaining! He did better than I thought he would, though! We played Jeopardy, too. It was girls vs. boys (bitches vs. assbags to us), and the bitches totally kicked some tail! Then, when we hadn't beat them enough, we busted out the Cranium game and the bitches blew the assbags away! It was VERY entertaining! It was really scary when the husband and Dad could read each other's minds with the most ridiculous clues. My Dad had to make a clown out of clay. He just made some dorky looking shoes, and the husband guessed it right away. It was a really eerie moment that left Mom & I speechless. It was our first time playing that game and it was really fun!

Surprise!

I guess that I feel like I was surprised once, so the entire world is out there just to surprise me for my birthday. Today, my boss called me and told me that the entire office would be meeting at 11:30. I decided to be a couple of minutes late, so they could light the candles and such. I just knew they would all be there with party hats and noisemakers when I walked in the room. Nope. There were chairs lined up and my boss was standing at the front with notes. A real meeting? Just days before my 27th birthday? What? I thought this was going to be a party. So, I asked the secretary if I could borrow a pad of paper and a pen. I honestly thought I would be consuming cake at this moment, but I'm listening to my boss rattle about goals and crap? What the...? So, I giggled all the way back to my office and eventually fessed up to a member of my work alliance. She laughed and said that was so something that I would think of - a fake meeting to cover up my surprise party. What's so funny about that?
So, later in the day, the secretary called me and asked me to come up to the front of the office for a second. This time, I knew that it was my party. Our part-time secretary arrived with cake icing on her shirt. You can't hide a birthday party from me - eventually, I'll sniff out the party! So, I took the long hallway from my office, instead of the little shortcut. The office makes a big circle. I normally take the long hallway to avoid walking by my boss's office. It's just a habit at this point. I've learned all of the shortcuts to avoid him. Well, they weren't expecting that, and all of their backs were pointed towards me, because they were expecting me to come from the other direction, so I yelled, "SURPRISE!" HEE HEE! It was priceless! I got a cake and a card, and inside the card, my boss had stuck a few coupons in because he's such an asswipe. I would have rather had a ream of paper or something. But, two Krispy Kreme Valentines for free donuts, and two coupons for free dessert at some bar down on the oceanfront with the purchase of an entree? What? Please, just give me a handful of Post-It's or something. I would even go for a highlighter and some file folders or something. Don't dig through your wallet and just pull something out (unless it's green). Give me a break! I'm still in shock that, for my birthday, I was given regifted coupons. I know that there's a rule against regifting coupons! There has to be! I don't even think it's acceptable to give coupons as a gift for any occasion. Can anyone clarify this for me? Also, is it in good taste to put two Valentine cards for free donuts in a birthday card approximately 1 month and 11 days after Valentine's Day? Keep in mind, I received one of these on Valentine's Day, and was a little offended then, but our janitor seemed pleased when I gave it to him later that day with the nasty box of conversation hearts that accompanied it. Hello?

So, in the past week, I have learned that I'm:
1. a meatball snob, and
2. a selfish birthday girl that feels she's above receiving regifted coupons as actual birthday gifts

Is that bad? Are my standards set too high?

Can you relate?

I work with this girl that I will call Metoo. If someone has a headache, her response is "me too." If I say that my arm itches, hers does too. If someone has diarrhea, I'll be damned if she doesn't have diarrhea, too!
My bestest friend, Jenn, suggested that I mention my hoo-ha itching, just to see how far Metoo would go. Before her suggestion, I mentioned that I might say that I had herpes, but I like Jenn's suggestion much better!

Free cabbage and beer? How do I RSVP?

The 2nd floor of our building has a realty company that likes to spend their money on food. They have had a few parties and invited us to all of them. They had an Open House in their office today to celebrate St. Patrick's Day and invited the staff and faculty of the university I work for. The invitation said cabbage and beer tasting. I think that was their version of crowd control, and I didn't fall for it. I can handle cabbage, but not on a work day. I'll pass on the beer, too. When we arrived, there were garlic fries (a fave of mine),pita bread and hummus, egg rolls, sandwiches, cheese and crackers, etc. I had pita bread and a cookie. I threw in a string cheese that was about to expire, too (this was my personal contribution to lunch - they didn't have these at their party). So, a couple of hours later, I had gas as if I had consumed a bowl of cabbage the size of an adult Leprechaun.*** I was in the *presence* of cabbage and got cabbage farts? What?

***Disclaimer - I don't know the size difference between an adolescent and adult Leprechaun. I just thought I'd say an adult Leprechaun, just in case.

Two days in a row!!! (and, I'm not going to talk about poop today)

No, your eyes aren't lying (Hips don't lie either, huh BFF Shakira?)

I'm really on a roll, now! I function best in high-stress mode, and that time is now! Midterms are next week, I finally got my thank you cards out from Christmas, Mt. Dirty Clothes is slowly turning into Mt. Clean Clothes, work is chaos, yet I still have time to blog. I think it's just the amount of material I accumulate during times like this!

Here's my day:
(husband sleeps in, because he's off on Mondays and Tuesdays) I start my day jealous of him all warm and sleeping in, even though Saturday and Sunday it was the other way around.
So, this girl I work with constantly talks about food. Food she likes. Food she cooks. Food she eats. Food she thinks about. UGH! I do not have time to listen to someone talk about food all the time! The routine goes like so:
When we see each other in the morning, she normally recaps what she had for dinner the previous night (Some days it's takeout, some days it's home cooked. If it's takeout, I will hear the location of the restaurant and any specialties they had/may have. If it's home cooked, I will hear about the ingredients and cooking method. "Chef" is very thorough!)
Next, she will tell me what she brought for lunch, or what she's going to go get for lunch.
Then, chances are, she'll mention what she's having for dinner that evening, and possibly the following evening, too.

Today's conversation:

Me: Good morning!
Chef: Hi. How are you?
Me: Fine. Did you have a good weekend?
Chef: Yeah. Yesterday, I made chili. It was so good! I brought some for lunch today. Then, she opens her desk drawer and pulls out a Ziploc bag with two pieces of bread in it. See, I brought bread to go with it. (holds up the bag)
Me: I see that. (why in the hell would I not believe someone when they tell me that they brought bread to have with their lunch? I'm a very trusting person. If you tell me you brought an entire loaf of bread to have with your bowl of chili, I'll believe you. You don't have to show me!)
I try to slowly step away toward my office before I scream (not scream for ice cream, either)
Chef: I marinated some chicken breasts for dinner tonight.
Me: That sounds good. (How did "How was your weekend" turn into the Chef Family weekly dinner menu?)
I got out of there without screaming, but it still left me feeling disturbed.

My own lunch story (Uh-oh, I feel a poop story coming on. Sorry for anyone who really thought I could post without a poop/fart story)

My coworker, Doggie Mama, is out of town for a few days. She asked me to stop by her apartment today on my lunch to walk her bulldog. He's a nice dog and all, but he's: a) a humper, and b) slobbery. Did I mention he's a bulldog? That's definitely not my favorite breed. I like all dogs, but the short, chubby, slobbery type is not my type of dog. Child - yes. Dog - no. So, I go over there and I take him for a walk. The entire time I've got the feeling of a really proud parent. My cat, Jackson, is so well mannered, and this bulldog makes me think of him and how wonderful he is! He doesn't jump up on people, he is very friendly and leaves people alone if they want to be left alone. I have started to believe this was normal pet behavior. Silly Carrie! I hope and pray that he just needs to pee and not poo. Oh, no! He's saved a couple of days of crap in that wrinkly body to let out while a stranger was walking him, because he knows she's really not a fan of unfamiliar animal poo (is anyone?). So, he unloads a big dump to make any human jealous. Then, I must use a little puppy poopy bag thing to pick up this strange animal's pile of crap. Oh my! I can't believe I had to do that. I did do it, but I didn't like it! I felt icky for the rest of the day.

Well, throw in a few more random situations (hardly as amusing or entertaining as Chef or doggie poo), and you've got my Monday! Yippee! I can't wait for tomorrow!

Let's catch up!

It's been a few days since my last post, so I need to remember all of the random and silly things that have happened. Friday night was the university's holiday (in other words, Christmas) party in Richmond. I drove so the husband could use our adult beverage tickets. I have learned to tolerate those people without liquor, so I thought I would do him a favor. He was thankful! The boss was really shit-faced! He even asked the husband for a ride back to the hotel. The husband told him that we drove the truck and we didn't have room. Whew! I did not want to be the drunkmobile driver! We got back to the hotel and decided we would hit a bar or two, so I could "get my drink on" since we were walking from the hotel. I hadn't had so much as one drink in months, so I was ready to have a margarita or five! We started at Sine, a little Irish pub we had been to once when we lived in the city. We got there and it was for a crowd younger than us. Okay, I'm 26 and he's 31, but after being married for five years, you're too old for environments like this one. We each had a drink there, then decided to move on up the street. We then went to Richmond Brewing Co. It was much quieter and for an "older" crowd. I had a fish sandwich and a screwdriver, and the husband had some chicken and beer. Yum! It was almost midnight, and I was seriously pooped! I couldn't stop yawning. My 26-year-old self was tired of this bar-hopping thing. Okay, a company Christmas party and two bars - someone like me can call this bar-hopping. It's just not my thing.
We woke up to the sound of the housekeeping lady banging on our door. Ummm...it's 8am, and checkout time is noon. Why in the hell would you beat on our door like that? We didn't answer it, but I was so mad I couldn't go back to sleep. There was also a child out in the hall running and screaming. I realize that we're not the responsible type that have children (yet another reason why coming up soon...), but parent-type people need to respect our decision to act like we're 21 again one night each year, and keep their child-monster quiet between the hours of 8-11am!
We woke up and got around so we could visit one of our favorite places in the area...Cracker Barrel! If you can believe it, the city we live in now does not have a Cracker Barrel. The closest one is actually over an hour away. We filled up and left awfully happy! We had to stop by the police supply store for some flashlight batteries for the husband. I don't mind going there, because they have guns and such, and the redneck in me really comes out in stores like that. It's like having a date at Bass Pro - sometimes, it just seems right. Next, we drove through our old neighborhood to see our old house. It's still as cute as ever. The people that bought it from us still have the welcome plaque at the front door and the ugly tree is still in the front yard. That poor tree had been through a bad hurricane, and it looked like a big wishbone. Then, we went to Ukrop's, our most favoritist grocery store ever! FUNNY STORY ALERT!!! If you're easily offended, stop reading now. We finished our shopping, and the husband started feeling the effects of Cracker Barrel. He and his body are firm believers in "Out with the old, in with the new." He said he was going to the restroom while I checked out. He was in there for a while (no surprise), and he come out with a big grin. This could have meant many things. Here's what went through my mind: a) no toilet paper; b) toilet clogged; c) someone walked in and laughed and/or puked. I was wrong! He said that he was in there, doing is business and minding his own. There was only one stall, and he was in it. He also mentioned a 1-inch crack in the door. He said he heard the bathroom door open and then he saw a 2-foot person (I'm guessing this was an estimate) come and peek in the stall door. The little boy said, "I gotta go potty." The husband covered his frank and beans and just looked down, ignoring the boy. (I don't know why) The boy paced for a moment, then went back to the stall door and said it again, "I gotta go potty." The husband continued to ignore him. (I still don't know why) So, the little boy paced, then went through the routine one more time, but this time louder and more serious, "I GOTTA GO POTTY!" The husband still ignoring him. (I STILL DON'T KNOW WHY) So, he heard the door to the outside open, and a motherly voice say, "Are you ready to go home?" and a little boy's voice screaming and crying, saying, "NO! I GOTTA GO POTTY!" So, the husband is expecting to walk out of the bathroom with everyone pointing and whispering, "psssst...psssst... he's the one from the bathroom stall..." or a mother waiting outside to kick his ass. If you know my husband, you would understand. He's the kindest, sweetest person ever. He wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings or make a child cry, but he had enough of being interrupted in the bathroom, and this poor child had to deal with the consequences. I do it to him all the time. While he's on the throne, I'll say "Hey! What do you want for dinner?" or "Hey! Did you get the mail?" or "Hey! Are you almost done?" I had pushed him over the limit, and this poor child was being punished for it. The husband could have said, "Just a minute" or something, but he didn't. He played dead...on the toilet. I have a feeling this is why we don't have children yet. Each little event like this moves our names back to the bottom of the stork's delivery list, like pushing Sonic's red order button again - it moves you back to the end each time you press it. We're both going to try to do better!

Brrrrrrrrrrrrr...and a little bit of this and that

Flannel Sheets
Baby, it's cold outside! I got a set of flannel sheets at JCP over the summer for $12. I have been so excited to bust them out and use them, and today's the day! I washed them, so they're all soft and cuddly for their grand entrance this evening. I've never had flannel sheets before, so this is a big day for me! They're really ugly, but it was the last King set they had. I guess since I sleep when it's dark, the ugly sheets and I will get along just fine.

Strange call
I took off a few days this week because a) I thought my parents were going to be here, and b) I'm going to lose my vacation time if I don't use it by the end of the year.
So, I got a phone call today and thought I would answer it. I don't know who calls my cell phone in the middle of the day from a strange number while I have the day off, but I thought it could be a good chance to make a new friend or something. Okay, I was in no mood to make new friends, but I was curious. Here's how the conversation went down:

Me: Hello.

Stranger: Hey!

Me: Hi. How are you? (I didn't know who in the hell it was, but she sounded friendly enough)

Stranger: Good. And you?

Me: Good. (still don't know who it is)

Stranger: I didn't know if your cell phone would work way out there or not.

Me: Yep. It works here. (of course it does - I'm in my house)

Stranger: Whatcha been doin?

Me: Oh, not much. Who is this?

Stranger: You're not Taylor are you?

Me: Nope.

Stranger: I'm so sorry, I really thought you were someone else.

Me: I know. I was just going to go along with it, I guess. Have a good day!

Stranger: You too!

This stranger was not strange at all. I've more awkward conversations with people I actually know. This was a pleasant conversation!

One last thought:
How is it that I haven't been to work since Friday, and won't go back until Thursday, yet purple shirt wearing Captain Shithead (my boss) still took the opportunity to piss me off today? I'll never know.