C and I decided to drive up to my mom's house for the weekend. We don't spend much time there because frankly, I can't stand her new husband or whatever he is. I don't claim him as family. His name is Bob and I don't like him at all. Just so that's said.
Bob likes to hunt, he's pretty southern (which is okay by me) and very much a country boy. However, Bob made his money by owning his own business at a young age, a business that has flourished over the 25 years or so he's owned it. He has a pretty penny now. I'm glad, because my mom doesn't have to work or worry about money, that's just how I like it.
Anyways, Bob likes to hunt. He hunts everything in and out of season. He takes his four-wheeler and drives to who knows where and shoots everything in sight. Needless to say, their big 'ole house is full of stuffed animals. Ha ha, nope, not cute, fuzzy, fake purple ones. Real, stuffed, once alive and breathing animals. Typical deer heads, moose parts, squirrels, etc. The problem is that there are also not so typical animals stuffed and mounted around the house. Such as snakes!
As a backstory, I must tell you about my recurring dream or whatever you want to call it. C thinks I am nuts because at least once a week (I wish I were making this up, but sadly, no) I jump up out of bed because I would swear on everything holy that there was a spider staring straight at me. There's not, of course. But it takes me a minute to snap out of it. Sometimes, I go as far as to run out of the room, into the livingroom and over to the main bathroom to escape (sometimes I pretend I really had to pee to throw C off of my craziness).
This leads me to the events of Saturday night. The guest bedroom has a 4 poster bed. It's really nice, actually. What's not nice is that there are a few animals (small ones) posted up on the mantle above the headboard. One of which is a rattlesnake that extends slightly over the bed with it's fangs showing. Oh yeah, he did that!
Can you guess what happened next? Spiders found me at mom's house, too! I jumped up because a big spider (red one) was after me. I jumped and turned my head to see a snake coming for me too! Ahhhh.....I freaked out before I really knew where I was and why a snake was above me. I freaked out so much that I broke my toe while running for refuge.
Thanks, Bob! Now I really like you!
Needless to say, C and I spent the rest of the night on the pull out sofa in the downstairs billiard room and I spent half of this morning finding out that not much can be done for a broken toe. But I did convince the doctor to make me a tiny toe bandage. Nice guy.
But for Bob....Jerk!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Love thy neighbor?
"K" and I were sitting in the livingroom of my condo last night watching "Sex and the City" reruns (our guilty pleasure) and drinking apple martinis (for the record, she's Samantha and I'm Carrie). I digress...
After a few drinks and a girls night marathon of "Sex" we were chatting and topping off our drinks with more drinks and more drinks and before we knew it, more drinks. Our men were working the 24 on 24 off shift so we splurged on girls night a bit.
First, let me tell you about our neighbor, Sanna. She's Russian, blonde, long legged and hard to get along with. When she first moved in we were all friends. She was included in girls night and most of our conversations and weekly gossip gabs. However, after she slammed the door in my face because her husband drove me to pick up my car (harmless, I promise), things haven't been...right.
Maybe, possibly, I kinda went to Spencer's Gifts in the mall, found some itching powder and put it in her shoes that she always leaves in the hall on her doormat. Oops. And maybe, possibly, probably I threatened to tie a string at the top of the stairs next to her door if she ever looked sideways at me. I mean, maybe I did these things. Maybe.
So, needless to say, we aren't friends anymore. And also, we hate her.
We were sitting on the couch laughing and carrying on when there was a knock at the door. I thought maybe we were being loud and that someone from the stairwell was coming to tell us to keep it down. I was really tipsy and "K" opened the door to find Sanna standing there. I am not 100% sure what was said except something like this:
Sanna- "Hey...um...V, could I possibly use your internet? Mine is down and stupid phone company say they come soon but who know when that may be (this is her wording).
Me- "Seriously? You always want something. I need a ride from Javi to pick up my car and all of a sudden I'm stealing your man. No one wants him, Sanna. No one. So, get over it. And while we're on the subject, no. You can't borrow my internet because...I'm using it. Yup, I am. (I grab my laptop) and it's important. I'm emailing Russia and telling them to come pick you up because...you know...we don't want you anymore. Thanks for stopping by. (At this point, I shut the door in her face).
Note: "K" has broken down into laughing tears
Now, I know this seems mean, but if you knew the whole story, you'd be on my side. I'm almost positive you would. Nevertheless, it happened and I'm not exactly proud of it.
But, it sure felt great! :)
After a few drinks and a girls night marathon of "Sex" we were chatting and topping off our drinks with more drinks and more drinks and before we knew it, more drinks. Our men were working the 24 on 24 off shift so we splurged on girls night a bit.
First, let me tell you about our neighbor, Sanna. She's Russian, blonde, long legged and hard to get along with. When she first moved in we were all friends. She was included in girls night and most of our conversations and weekly gossip gabs. However, after she slammed the door in my face because her husband drove me to pick up my car (harmless, I promise), things haven't been...right.
Maybe, possibly, I kinda went to Spencer's Gifts in the mall, found some itching powder and put it in her shoes that she always leaves in the hall on her doormat. Oops. And maybe, possibly, probably I threatened to tie a string at the top of the stairs next to her door if she ever looked sideways at me. I mean, maybe I did these things. Maybe.
So, needless to say, we aren't friends anymore. And also, we hate her.
We were sitting on the couch laughing and carrying on when there was a knock at the door. I thought maybe we were being loud and that someone from the stairwell was coming to tell us to keep it down. I was really tipsy and "K" opened the door to find Sanna standing there. I am not 100% sure what was said except something like this:
Sanna- "Hey...um...V, could I possibly use your internet? Mine is down and stupid phone company say they come soon but who know when that may be (this is her wording).
Me- "Seriously? You always want something. I need a ride from Javi to pick up my car and all of a sudden I'm stealing your man. No one wants him, Sanna. No one. So, get over it. And while we're on the subject, no. You can't borrow my internet because...I'm using it. Yup, I am. (I grab my laptop) and it's important. I'm emailing Russia and telling them to come pick you up because...you know...we don't want you anymore. Thanks for stopping by. (At this point, I shut the door in her face).
Note: "K" has broken down into laughing tears
Now, I know this seems mean, but if you knew the whole story, you'd be on my side. I'm almost positive you would. Nevertheless, it happened and I'm not exactly proud of it.
But, it sure felt great! :)
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Little black book (continued)
So, as you may have noticed, I haven't posted since last Wednesday. Well, after the little peek into my past debaucle, I decided we needed some down time, together time. Besides, any excuse for a vacation will do, right?
I booked us a bungalow on the beach from Thursday to Monday. Being that it's month end, I had to be back by today (uuggh). We had a great time. Spent way too much money, drank a bit, laughed a lot, screamed a little and more than made up for the misgivings of the day before.
Thursday was a little uncomfortable, he had some questions about some of the things he read in the book, particularly my apparent pattern of family jumping (as he called it). Although he knew I had dated a few cousins and brothers, etc. He didn't know they happened to be within the same family. Now, it's not as bad as it sounds, in my defense, I didn't realize some of them were related. I used to joke that I was addicted to this one particular family as I seemed to always fall for the men in the family. I explained, he listened, I left out the stuff he wouldn't want to know (at least I wouldn't if I were him).
Another question he had was about a one night stand I wrote quite a bit about. He wondered how I had 3 pages worth of wording for a guy I spent one night with. Of course, I didn't tell him how truly amazing that one night was and that I will never forget the happenings of that one night, but I told him that I wrote about it the next day, so it was fresh in my mind. He was satisfied with this answer, I think he just didn't want to press on too much more.
Then he got to the little comment I made about the "first black guy" I slept with. I told him that I wanted to document that in case I ever looked back and wondered. He said, "Umm, were there going to be that many that you would forget and have to look back to figure out who was who?!?" Fair question. I get his point. So, I told him that I was young and I didn't know what I was writing. I thought of these guys as conquests, not long lasting partners (most of them, anyways).
After all of the questions he dared to ask and I dared to answer were over. I spent the next few days showing him that he was the only man who deserved a novel's worth of wording, not just a few lines in a little black book.
Aww.....
I booked us a bungalow on the beach from Thursday to Monday. Being that it's month end, I had to be back by today (uuggh). We had a great time. Spent way too much money, drank a bit, laughed a lot, screamed a little and more than made up for the misgivings of the day before.
Thursday was a little uncomfortable, he had some questions about some of the things he read in the book, particularly my apparent pattern of family jumping (as he called it). Although he knew I had dated a few cousins and brothers, etc. He didn't know they happened to be within the same family. Now, it's not as bad as it sounds, in my defense, I didn't realize some of them were related. I used to joke that I was addicted to this one particular family as I seemed to always fall for the men in the family. I explained, he listened, I left out the stuff he wouldn't want to know (at least I wouldn't if I were him).
Another question he had was about a one night stand I wrote quite a bit about. He wondered how I had 3 pages worth of wording for a guy I spent one night with. Of course, I didn't tell him how truly amazing that one night was and that I will never forget the happenings of that one night, but I told him that I wrote about it the next day, so it was fresh in my mind. He was satisfied with this answer, I think he just didn't want to press on too much more.
Then he got to the little comment I made about the "first black guy" I slept with. I told him that I wanted to document that in case I ever looked back and wondered. He said, "Umm, were there going to be that many that you would forget and have to look back to figure out who was who?!?" Fair question. I get his point. So, I told him that I was young and I didn't know what I was writing. I thought of these guys as conquests, not long lasting partners (most of them, anyways).
After all of the questions he dared to ask and I dared to answer were over. I spent the next few days showing him that he was the only man who deserved a novel's worth of wording, not just a few lines in a little black book.
Aww.....
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The little black book (oy, vey)
Oh, am I in trouble. HOT, HOT, water. Just to clarify, I'm screwed. I may be exaggerating, slightly, but C is pissed.
In my defense, C and I have been married for going on 7 years. We got married at the tender age of 20. A girl can do a lot of things before she turns 20. Keep that in mind...any questions please refer to item# 3 on the "100 Things (10 at a time)" post.
Yesterday morning C decided he wanted to go to our storage room to find some old photos for Facebook. Having been together for a long time, we have accumulated many items over the years, most of which ended up in storage. Most of which, I have no clue as to being there or ever existed or at least I thought I had gotten rid of from the get go. I was sooooo wrong.
I come home last night and there is a book sitting on my pillow. A little black book..as I get closer I recognize it, but I am not sure what it is. I pick it up and it is labeled "Little Black Book"...convenient.
My mind takes a minute to realize what I have in my hands and then I gasp. C isn't in the house and I am by myself, standing in the bedroom with my past sprawled out in my hands.
NOTE: As a teenager, I found this book in the store that you could record your...relationships, conquests, etc. Not the smartest move I now realize as a married woman...but, I was a teenager, I didn't know any better.
Here are some of the items I recorded:
Rich- Nice guy, not the smartest. Good kisser but kind of sloppy at times. Eww. I liked his friend, Eric better, so I dumped him and dated Eric for 2 1/2 years. Sorry, Rich.
Eric- First love. Jerk who cheated on me, with my best friend! Sex was...ehh. Still love him (kinda). I guess I always will. But Mike (his cousin) is a better kisser and has a nice a**.
Rob- Dated him in middle school. Way cuter now. No silly mohawk thing. Big hands and feet=big everything you want to be big. Booty call at midnight, Krystal's at 3am kinda friend. Nothing serious.
Mike- Oh Mike, Mike, Mike. Thank God for making Mike. Eyes, oooh. Lips, aaahh. And boy does he know how to work his tongue. Too bad he's not boyfriend material. That's okay, he was put to good use.
Zip (yes, his real name)- A few dates, a little too obsessive. Asked me to move to Georgia with him. Dude, I'm 17. No potential. No sex, no way.
Jere- What was I thinking? Hot? Yes. Sexy? Yes. Psycho? Yes, yes, yes. Sex was great, taught me a few things. But ended up with some bumps and bruises afterwards. Pointless relationship, but his friend Ken was a nice one night fling.
Tony- First black guy I slept with. He was hot and I don't discriminate. But, the legend isn't all it's cracked up to be. Nice guy, joined the military and went off to boot camp. Someone else will enjoy him.
Stephen- King of public sex. I'll never forget Dillards. Ah, memories.
Cesar- No, no. Did you really think I would marry you, jackass? Sure, give a girl an ultimatum and she'll throw her panties at you. I don't think so. Bye, Cesar.
(Some verbage has been changed or removed along with TMI details, etc.)
I won't list anymore in order to save (some) face. But you get the drift. It was a play by play account of my relationships or whatever you want to call them. Between the age of 14 and 20 I had quite a few guys in my life, however briefly. But give me a break, I have only been single a total of 4 combined weeks in my entire life. What do you expect?
Needless to say, when C got home last night, he was livid. I can't blame him. I thought I had gotten rid of this type of stuff a long time ago. Turns out, my mom shoved some of my stuff in my storage room when she moved a few years ago. I never knew it was there. (Thanks, Mom).
I apologized, groveled a little and told him that it's all in my past. He's my present and future. But I can understand that reading some stuff you already knew (and some you didn't) about your wife can be a little disheartening.
A word to the wise...if you have a little black book or dirty little secrets on paper...shred 'em, burn 'em or otherwise dispose of them. It's not worth the look on his or her face when she reads them.
But he loves me just the way I am, hootchie mama and all. :)
In my defense, C and I have been married for going on 7 years. We got married at the tender age of 20. A girl can do a lot of things before she turns 20. Keep that in mind...any questions please refer to item# 3 on the "100 Things (10 at a time)" post.
Yesterday morning C decided he wanted to go to our storage room to find some old photos for Facebook. Having been together for a long time, we have accumulated many items over the years, most of which ended up in storage. Most of which, I have no clue as to being there or ever existed or at least I thought I had gotten rid of from the get go. I was sooooo wrong.
I come home last night and there is a book sitting on my pillow. A little black book..as I get closer I recognize it, but I am not sure what it is. I pick it up and it is labeled "Little Black Book"...convenient.
My mind takes a minute to realize what I have in my hands and then I gasp. C isn't in the house and I am by myself, standing in the bedroom with my past sprawled out in my hands.
NOTE: As a teenager, I found this book in the store that you could record your...relationships, conquests, etc. Not the smartest move I now realize as a married woman...but, I was a teenager, I didn't know any better.
Here are some of the items I recorded:
Rich- Nice guy, not the smartest. Good kisser but kind of sloppy at times. Eww. I liked his friend, Eric better, so I dumped him and dated Eric for 2 1/2 years. Sorry, Rich.
Eric- First love. Jerk who cheated on me, with my best friend! Sex was...ehh. Still love him (kinda). I guess I always will. But Mike (his cousin) is a better kisser and has a nice a**.
Rob- Dated him in middle school. Way cuter now. No silly mohawk thing. Big hands and feet=big everything you want to be big. Booty call at midnight, Krystal's at 3am kinda friend. Nothing serious.
Mike- Oh Mike, Mike, Mike. Thank God for making Mike. Eyes, oooh. Lips, aaahh. And boy does he know how to work his tongue. Too bad he's not boyfriend material. That's okay, he was put to good use.
Zip (yes, his real name)- A few dates, a little too obsessive. Asked me to move to Georgia with him. Dude, I'm 17. No potential. No sex, no way.
Jere- What was I thinking? Hot? Yes. Sexy? Yes. Psycho? Yes, yes, yes. Sex was great, taught me a few things. But ended up with some bumps and bruises afterwards. Pointless relationship, but his friend Ken was a nice one night fling.
Tony- First black guy I slept with. He was hot and I don't discriminate. But, the legend isn't all it's cracked up to be. Nice guy, joined the military and went off to boot camp. Someone else will enjoy him.
Stephen- King of public sex. I'll never forget Dillards. Ah, memories.
Cesar- No, no. Did you really think I would marry you, jackass? Sure, give a girl an ultimatum and she'll throw her panties at you. I don't think so. Bye, Cesar.
(Some verbage has been changed or removed along with TMI details, etc.)
I won't list anymore in order to save (some) face. But you get the drift. It was a play by play account of my relationships or whatever you want to call them. Between the age of 14 and 20 I had quite a few guys in my life, however briefly. But give me a break, I have only been single a total of 4 combined weeks in my entire life. What do you expect?
Needless to say, when C got home last night, he was livid. I can't blame him. I thought I had gotten rid of this type of stuff a long time ago. Turns out, my mom shoved some of my stuff in my storage room when she moved a few years ago. I never knew it was there. (Thanks, Mom).
I apologized, groveled a little and told him that it's all in my past. He's my present and future. But I can understand that reading some stuff you already knew (and some you didn't) about your wife can be a little disheartening.
A word to the wise...if you have a little black book or dirty little secrets on paper...shred 'em, burn 'em or otherwise dispose of them. It's not worth the look on his or her face when she reads them.
But he loves me just the way I am, hootchie mama and all. :)
Monday, September 21, 2009
The F-Off Email
Being that it is Monday and I have had a series of unfortunate events over the past week, I figured it would be a quiet day at work...oh was I wrong.
Backstory: I received a promotion not too long ago, bumping me up the chain of command (ha) to upper management (I still think someone lost the bet to choose me, but yay for my paycheck). This pissed off one of my co-workers who believed she deserved the job over me being that she had been with the company about 4 years longer than I had. Nevertheless, I got the job, she is now my employee.
THE EMAIL: (We will call her Kate)
Kate,
When you have a chance today, I need to schedule some time to sit down and go over the numbers for the new division with you.
Please advise what time would be best.
Thanks,
V
(Polite and to the point, don't you think?)
The initial F-Off email response:
V,
Due to the fact that you were out of the office most of last week, this put our project behind schedule. I have some catching up of my own to do, therefore, I am not available today. Maybe tomorrow.
-Kate
Oh, really?
The F-You Back Email:
Kate,
Thanks for responding so quickly. I have set the meeting for today at 2 pm, make sure to bring the FA reports.
See you then.
-V
(Meeting request attached)
The second F-Off email response:
V,
As I previously stated, I do not have any time today for this meeting. I am declining your request and attaching a new one for tomorrow.
Thanks!
-Kate
Apparently, it was coming to blows, therefore....my F-Off finale email:
To: Kate
CC: Kate's Director (boss lady)
From: V- Manager
Kate,
Thanks so much for accepting my meeting request for 2 pm, I am sure "Boss Lady" will appreciate your enthusiasm to get this new division up and running.
Please ensure to bring a copy of the FA report with you to our meeting this afternoon.
If you have any questions, please let me know.
BTW: I have attached a new meeting request as it seems you accidentally hit "Decline" on the last one. Make sure to hit "Accept" like I showed you. If you are unsure, please let me know and I will go over it again. Outlook can be a little tricky at times.
Thanks again!
-V
HARDBALL, baby!
Needless to say, she showed up at 2 pm. :)
Backstory: I received a promotion not too long ago, bumping me up the chain of command (ha) to upper management (I still think someone lost the bet to choose me, but yay for my paycheck). This pissed off one of my co-workers who believed she deserved the job over me being that she had been with the company about 4 years longer than I had. Nevertheless, I got the job, she is now my employee.
THE EMAIL: (We will call her Kate)
Kate,
When you have a chance today, I need to schedule some time to sit down and go over the numbers for the new division with you.
Please advise what time would be best.
Thanks,
V
(Polite and to the point, don't you think?)
The initial F-Off email response:
V,
Due to the fact that you were out of the office most of last week, this put our project behind schedule. I have some catching up of my own to do, therefore, I am not available today. Maybe tomorrow.
-Kate
Oh, really?
The F-You Back Email:
Kate,
Thanks for responding so quickly. I have set the meeting for today at 2 pm, make sure to bring the FA reports.
See you then.
-V
(Meeting request attached)
The second F-Off email response:
V,
As I previously stated, I do not have any time today for this meeting. I am declining your request and attaching a new one for tomorrow.
Thanks!
-Kate
Apparently, it was coming to blows, therefore....my F-Off finale email:
To: Kate
CC: Kate's Director (boss lady)
From: V- Manager
Kate,
Thanks so much for accepting my meeting request for 2 pm, I am sure "Boss Lady" will appreciate your enthusiasm to get this new division up and running.
Please ensure to bring a copy of the FA report with you to our meeting this afternoon.
If you have any questions, please let me know.
BTW: I have attached a new meeting request as it seems you accidentally hit "Decline" on the last one. Make sure to hit "Accept" like I showed you. If you are unsure, please let me know and I will go over it again. Outlook can be a little tricky at times.
Thanks again!
-V
HARDBALL, baby!
Needless to say, she showed up at 2 pm. :)
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Lions, Tigers and Vampires..oh my!
Well, to top off an interesting (to say the least) week, I have finally lost it. I consider myself to be a fairly realistic person. With that said, I can also be pretty open minded to many things. You wouldn't have thought I was a very level headed person come Friday night...
My best friend "K" lives two condos down from me. It's been like that for years, and because of this, she is my partner in crime. We have made much trouble over the years for the other inhabitants of our little community. We like to think we run the show. And truth is, we kinda do.
I digress...
So, Friday night we were on the phone talking, both C and her husband were out of town for the weekend. They work together, so they often have the same client base. Although we live 2 doors down from one another, we are lazy and pick up the phone rather than walk the few steps to each other's door.
It was about 2 am or so and we were chatting about nothing really. We had both been watching "True Blood" episodes, trying to catch up. We fell in love with the show after we decided to find out what all of the fuss was about. Besides, it seems like everything is surrounding vampires now a days. So, why not check it out? We watched 3 episodes on demand, back to back and talked our way through them all. We do that often.
We took a break from watching and started chatting about little things. All of a sudden she gasps...
"What!?!" I ask.
Let me explain that our condo faces the street. We are both on the outside of the community and one of the streets where the cars are parked sit outside of our windows. Everyone who enters the courtyard must do so by passing by our windows. So, needless to say...we see alot.
She tells me that we need to take out the trash. It took me a minute, be we speak the same language so because it was 2 am, I knew something was going on outside. I threw a few things in a bag and we met downstairs.
After asking her what she saw, she shushed me and told me to peer around the corner towards the street. When I did so, I saw what she saw. Our trashy neighbor (who we are convinced runs a brothel in her condo) was on the car, getting it on with our other neighbor (married neighbor) "B". We casually walked towards the dumpster, passing by the street and keeping our eyes on the show that was going on in front of us. They were really going at it. We should have been shocked, right? Nope. This happens whenever B's wife works late (she's a nurse). We always catch the show whenever we can.
After the fireworks went off, they cleaned up and she went to her respective home and he went to his.
We stood outside recapping the event and laughed at how short the process was. Then we continued to talk about our neighbor's brothel and all of the men who come in and out at all hours (literally, I'm sure).
Anyways, the point of the story is this...
We had just finished watching all of these creepy shows. We were standing outside in the middle of the night (or early morning) talking when we heard this freakishly unusual, unhuman sounding wail. We both froze in our footsteps.
"What the hell was that?!?" I asked. "K" didn't move. She just stood there.
I snapped at her a few times and told her we should go back inside. We started walking towards the door and again, closer, we heard it.
Now, I'm not one to believe things easily. But, what we both heard was beyond any sound a human could make. So, of course, we assumed supernatural. (Give us a break, we had vamps on the brain).
We both took off leaving a trail of dust and gossip behind us.
I didn't even look to make sure she made it to her door. I threw my keycard against the scanner, threw open the door and ran the 3 flights to my house. I didn't waste a moment.
Once inside, I closed the blinds and picked up my cell phone to dial her number. She answered (which was good considering I left her behind) and we decided to talk about something else.
It didn't take long before we realized that we were both being ridiculous. But, you never know...better safe than sorry.
NOTE: I slept with a bottle of garlic powder next to my bed that night, just in case. :)
My best friend "K" lives two condos down from me. It's been like that for years, and because of this, she is my partner in crime. We have made much trouble over the years for the other inhabitants of our little community. We like to think we run the show. And truth is, we kinda do.
I digress...
So, Friday night we were on the phone talking, both C and her husband were out of town for the weekend. They work together, so they often have the same client base. Although we live 2 doors down from one another, we are lazy and pick up the phone rather than walk the few steps to each other's door.
It was about 2 am or so and we were chatting about nothing really. We had both been watching "True Blood" episodes, trying to catch up. We fell in love with the show after we decided to find out what all of the fuss was about. Besides, it seems like everything is surrounding vampires now a days. So, why not check it out? We watched 3 episodes on demand, back to back and talked our way through them all. We do that often.
We took a break from watching and started chatting about little things. All of a sudden she gasps...
"What!?!" I ask.
Let me explain that our condo faces the street. We are both on the outside of the community and one of the streets where the cars are parked sit outside of our windows. Everyone who enters the courtyard must do so by passing by our windows. So, needless to say...we see alot.
She tells me that we need to take out the trash. It took me a minute, be we speak the same language so because it was 2 am, I knew something was going on outside. I threw a few things in a bag and we met downstairs.
After asking her what she saw, she shushed me and told me to peer around the corner towards the street. When I did so, I saw what she saw. Our trashy neighbor (who we are convinced runs a brothel in her condo) was on the car, getting it on with our other neighbor (married neighbor) "B". We casually walked towards the dumpster, passing by the street and keeping our eyes on the show that was going on in front of us. They were really going at it. We should have been shocked, right? Nope. This happens whenever B's wife works late (she's a nurse). We always catch the show whenever we can.
After the fireworks went off, they cleaned up and she went to her respective home and he went to his.
We stood outside recapping the event and laughed at how short the process was. Then we continued to talk about our neighbor's brothel and all of the men who come in and out at all hours (literally, I'm sure).
Anyways, the point of the story is this...
We had just finished watching all of these creepy shows. We were standing outside in the middle of the night (or early morning) talking when we heard this freakishly unusual, unhuman sounding wail. We both froze in our footsteps.
"What the hell was that?!?" I asked. "K" didn't move. She just stood there.
I snapped at her a few times and told her we should go back inside. We started walking towards the door and again, closer, we heard it.
Now, I'm not one to believe things easily. But, what we both heard was beyond any sound a human could make. So, of course, we assumed supernatural. (Give us a break, we had vamps on the brain).
We both took off leaving a trail of dust and gossip behind us.
I didn't even look to make sure she made it to her door. I threw my keycard against the scanner, threw open the door and ran the 3 flights to my house. I didn't waste a moment.
Once inside, I closed the blinds and picked up my cell phone to dial her number. She answered (which was good considering I left her behind) and we decided to talk about something else.
It didn't take long before we realized that we were both being ridiculous. But, you never know...better safe than sorry.
NOTE: I slept with a bottle of garlic powder next to my bed that night, just in case. :)
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Glass Elevator Fiasco
Ah yes, the glass elevator. Such fond memories.
Deb and I needed a time out on Monday after the conference. We were in a city we weren't familiar with and away from our families. We wanted to let loose a little. Deb, let loose a little too much.
First, we hit the hotel bar. After a few rounds of drinks, and a few more, courtesy of the nice GE guys, we were feelin pretty good. We had pretty much forgotton why we were even there. Conference? What conference?
Deb decided she wanted to change out her heels for flip flops before heading out to another bar. I didn't feel like going with her to her room as I was enjoying the conversation with some of the other conference-goers that had migrated to our table.
A few minutes later, I noticed one of the squatters staring up behind me and breaking out in a roaring laugh. Of course, we all turned to see what was happening. Oh boy...was it happening.
Deb had carried her drink upstairs with her. She was on her way back down to the bar, which is easily accessible from the glass elevator next to the lobby, in PLAIN sight of my table. She must have been so so so SLOSHED that she didn't realize that it was a GLASS elevator, meaning see through.
She was fixing her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail, I assume for comfort just like the flip flops she changed into. During her beauty fix, she placed her cup in her m outh in order to utilize both hands. Well, along with her cup, she also bit down on the edge of her dress. How? I don't have a clue. But, nevertheless, she was fixing her hair, biting down on her cup and the bottom of her dress all the while, giving us a show.
What kind of show? Not just undies and legs. That wouldn't have been as much fun. Nope. Deb likes to go a la carte in a dress. Sans undies. We saw Deb in a whole new light that night.
Did she realize she was giving a free peep? Not at all. You would have thought she was landing airplanes...landing strip available.
I jumped up, ran...well..sort of stumbled..over to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. Once they opened, she grabbed her cup out of her hand, dropping her dress and smiled. I decided it wouldn't be as much fun to tell her that night. We went on about our way, but not before the crowd in the bar broke out in applause.
She asked what they were clapping for...I just told her I didn't know and motioned her out the door and into the cab. I did, however, make a crack about the draft in the elevator. She didn't pick up on it. Sloshed!
I told her about her entertaining show the next afternoon. Needless to say, we didn't go to the hotel bar Tuesday night! Shame...I am pretty sure we could have scored a bunch of free drinks.
Deb and I needed a time out on Monday after the conference. We were in a city we weren't familiar with and away from our families. We wanted to let loose a little. Deb, let loose a little too much.
First, we hit the hotel bar. After a few rounds of drinks, and a few more, courtesy of the nice GE guys, we were feelin pretty good. We had pretty much forgotton why we were even there. Conference? What conference?
Deb decided she wanted to change out her heels for flip flops before heading out to another bar. I didn't feel like going with her to her room as I was enjoying the conversation with some of the other conference-goers that had migrated to our table.
A few minutes later, I noticed one of the squatters staring up behind me and breaking out in a roaring laugh. Of course, we all turned to see what was happening. Oh boy...was it happening.
Deb had carried her drink upstairs with her. She was on her way back down to the bar, which is easily accessible from the glass elevator next to the lobby, in PLAIN sight of my table. She must have been so so so SLOSHED that she didn't realize that it was a GLASS elevator, meaning see through.
She was fixing her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail, I assume for comfort just like the flip flops she changed into. During her beauty fix, she placed her cup in her m outh in order to utilize both hands. Well, along with her cup, she also bit down on the edge of her dress. How? I don't have a clue. But, nevertheless, she was fixing her hair, biting down on her cup and the bottom of her dress all the while, giving us a show.
What kind of show? Not just undies and legs. That wouldn't have been as much fun. Nope. Deb likes to go a la carte in a dress. Sans undies. We saw Deb in a whole new light that night.
Did she realize she was giving a free peep? Not at all. You would have thought she was landing airplanes...landing strip available.
I jumped up, ran...well..sort of stumbled..over to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. Once they opened, she grabbed her cup out of her hand, dropping her dress and smiled. I decided it wouldn't be as much fun to tell her that night. We went on about our way, but not before the crowd in the bar broke out in applause.
She asked what they were clapping for...I just told her I didn't know and motioned her out the door and into the cab. I did, however, make a crack about the draft in the elevator. She didn't pick up on it. Sloshed!
I told her about her entertaining show the next afternoon. Needless to say, we didn't go to the hotel bar Tuesday night! Shame...I am pretty sure we could have scored a bunch of free drinks.
Do the Doo
Returned today from a great 3 day conference out of town, courtesy of my wonderful company. I never knew so many stories could come out of a 3 day company sponsored event, but I was wrong. So, I am going to post story# 1 that I like to call "Do the Doo" and then move on to "Glass Elevator Fiasco".
Day 1 went over without a hitch, many boring...I mean...educational classes that seem to go around like a lazy Suzie. One ballroom to another to another..and so on. My brain couldn't hold the abundance of important information being jammed into it all day on Monday...that is probably because I was thinking about going out on the town after I put in an appearance at the "necessary" programs.
A great night was had. Oh boy, was it. My company sent myself and another girl from my department to represent the company. What were they thinking?!?
So, we'll call her....Deb.
Deb and I hit the hotel bar and a few other random places I can't really remember. This night led to my second story "Glass Elevator Fiasco" to be posted soon.
The next day I had to attend one of the 8am topics. I drug my hungover self out of bed, threw myself together and grabbed the largest cup of coffee the hotel offered. Not that it helped.
After the 2nd topic was discussed (without any breaks, which I badly needed) my stomach started to do jumping jacks. Not a good thing. A room full of 100 other executives, I'm supposed to be representing my company, and I am about to blow up because of the events from the night before. Has anyone seen "Van Wilder", if so, you'll know the part I'm thinking of.
I carefully removed myself from the room and quickly made my way to the ladies room. After I finished my business, I flushed, as you would normally do (I hope). However, things wouldn't leave my presence. That's right. Nothing would go down the drain. I panicked. No plunger in sight, nothing to help me in this debaucle. So, what did I do? Flush again. BAD IDEA!
Now, everything that was in me, was now on the floor of the hotel bathroom. Next move? Run!
I know it's not the smartest, or most polite move in the world. But, I didn't know what else to do. I flew out of the bathroom and once I was a few steps out of sight, I casually walked back to my seat.
Things would have been just fine, I would have been in the clear if I hadn't been ME and done a ME thing. Apparently, during my bathroom freak-out, I managed to drop my name tag, that of course was labeled with my full name and company name. Not one of those "Hi my name is..." deals. Nope, a nice one, one that I was supposed to keep ahold of throughout the conference.
Luckily for me, one of the hotel employees (the one who was alerted to the sewer overload) came into the room, whispered something to the speaker and then left. She looked less than happy, to say the least.
Then...the speaker said " Will "insert full name here" please go to the check in desk to claim your name tag".
I was mortified. This is only something that could happen to me. What happened next, you ask? I was advised that the next time I notice the plumbing backing up in the restroom to please notify the front desk rather than leave things overflowing. I backpeddled a bit and blamed an employee that didn't exist. I simply told them that I had seen a maintenance worker or what I thought was a maintenance worker and told him about the flood. They cocked their heads at me, lifted an eyebrow and said, "Oh, hmm...well, next time, please come to the desk".
Mortified....
Day 1 went over without a hitch, many boring...I mean...educational classes that seem to go around like a lazy Suzie. One ballroom to another to another..and so on. My brain couldn't hold the abundance of important information being jammed into it all day on Monday...that is probably because I was thinking about going out on the town after I put in an appearance at the "necessary" programs.
A great night was had. Oh boy, was it. My company sent myself and another girl from my department to represent the company. What were they thinking?!?
So, we'll call her....Deb.
Deb and I hit the hotel bar and a few other random places I can't really remember. This night led to my second story "Glass Elevator Fiasco" to be posted soon.
The next day I had to attend one of the 8am topics. I drug my hungover self out of bed, threw myself together and grabbed the largest cup of coffee the hotel offered. Not that it helped.
After the 2nd topic was discussed (without any breaks, which I badly needed) my stomach started to do jumping jacks. Not a good thing. A room full of 100 other executives, I'm supposed to be representing my company, and I am about to blow up because of the events from the night before. Has anyone seen "Van Wilder", if so, you'll know the part I'm thinking of.
I carefully removed myself from the room and quickly made my way to the ladies room. After I finished my business, I flushed, as you would normally do (I hope). However, things wouldn't leave my presence. That's right. Nothing would go down the drain. I panicked. No plunger in sight, nothing to help me in this debaucle. So, what did I do? Flush again. BAD IDEA!
Now, everything that was in me, was now on the floor of the hotel bathroom. Next move? Run!
I know it's not the smartest, or most polite move in the world. But, I didn't know what else to do. I flew out of the bathroom and once I was a few steps out of sight, I casually walked back to my seat.
Things would have been just fine, I would have been in the clear if I hadn't been ME and done a ME thing. Apparently, during my bathroom freak-out, I managed to drop my name tag, that of course was labeled with my full name and company name. Not one of those "Hi my name is..." deals. Nope, a nice one, one that I was supposed to keep ahold of throughout the conference.
Luckily for me, one of the hotel employees (the one who was alerted to the sewer overload) came into the room, whispered something to the speaker and then left. She looked less than happy, to say the least.
Then...the speaker said " Will "insert full name here" please go to the check in desk to claim your name tag".
I was mortified. This is only something that could happen to me. What happened next, you ask? I was advised that the next time I notice the plumbing backing up in the restroom to please notify the front desk rather than leave things overflowing. I backpeddled a bit and blamed an employee that didn't exist. I simply told them that I had seen a maintenance worker or what I thought was a maintenance worker and told him about the flood. They cocked their heads at me, lifted an eyebrow and said, "Oh, hmm...well, next time, please come to the desk".
Mortified....
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The Resume Game
Last week I placed an ad on one of the large, well-known job sites as well as some of the smaller ones in the area. I am looking for an account executive. I knew I'd get resumes from people of all walks of life, and I did.
I received resumes from recent high school graduates, college graduates, people who deemed themselves high school drop-outs and college drop-outs (yes, on their cover letter/resume).
Here are some of my favorite resumes/objectives/excuses, etc.
1. I received a resume from a guy who recently moved from a small town in Iowa. He claimed that he was the town undertaker, fire chief and pastor. I thought about calling him in for an interview based solely on the fact that he is a definite multi-tasker.
2. One of the cover letter's closed with, "Let's meet so you can 'ooh' and 'aah' over my experience. Yeah, sure.
3. Reason for leaving my last job: Maturity leave
I am sure the applicant meant "maternity leave", but after all the resumes I have read, she might have really meant "maturity".
4. On the application under "Prior arrests" one applicant added an explanation as: "We stole a pig, but it was a really small pig."
Umm...WTF? Oh, well, it was small so, okay. You're hired, buddy!
5. Hobbies include: Spending time with my wife of 20 years, my girlfriend of 3 years and my dog. Well, at least I know he's a people person.
6. Achievements: Nominated for prom queen.
Awesome. Great qualifications. Or not.
7. Hobbies include: Playing trivia games. I am a repository of worthless knowledge.
I can't even touch this one, it's too good.
8. Salary requirements: The higher the better
Oh, now I'm willing to negotiate.
9. Reason for leaving last job: Pushed aside so the VP's girlfriend could steal my job.
Honest, yes. TMI, definitely. Worth bringing her in for an interview, OH YEAH. Meeting with her on Tuesday.
10. Explanation under "Willing to relocate?": My family is willing to relocate for a job. However, not to New England (too cold) and not to Southern California (earthquakes). Indianapolis or Chicago would be fine. My youngest prefers Orlando's proximity to Disney World.
She was an applicant from El Paso, Texas. Too funny.
Bonus 11. References: "Please do not contact my immediate supervisor at the company. My colleagues will give me a better reference."
Wow. Now, I really want to interview you, dude.
That's it. Some of my favorites. I get a ton of resumes everyday, so I might extend this out some more. I find it hard to believe that people actually think employers will hire them based on a tacky, wacky and freaky resume. But I get a kick out of reading them.
It just leads me to think I'll never fill this position. But, I think the Prom Queen might have some potential. I mean, who doesn't want to hire a prom queen with no experience in the field? Wow...
I received resumes from recent high school graduates, college graduates, people who deemed themselves high school drop-outs and college drop-outs (yes, on their cover letter/resume).
Here are some of my favorite resumes/objectives/excuses, etc.
1. I received a resume from a guy who recently moved from a small town in Iowa. He claimed that he was the town undertaker, fire chief and pastor. I thought about calling him in for an interview based solely on the fact that he is a definite multi-tasker.
2. One of the cover letter's closed with, "Let's meet so you can 'ooh' and 'aah' over my experience. Yeah, sure.
3. Reason for leaving my last job: Maturity leave
I am sure the applicant meant "maternity leave", but after all the resumes I have read, she might have really meant "maturity".
4. On the application under "Prior arrests" one applicant added an explanation as: "We stole a pig, but it was a really small pig."
Umm...WTF? Oh, well, it was small so, okay. You're hired, buddy!
5. Hobbies include: Spending time with my wife of 20 years, my girlfriend of 3 years and my dog. Well, at least I know he's a people person.
6. Achievements: Nominated for prom queen.
Awesome. Great qualifications. Or not.
7. Hobbies include: Playing trivia games. I am a repository of worthless knowledge.
I can't even touch this one, it's too good.
8. Salary requirements: The higher the better
Oh, now I'm willing to negotiate.
9. Reason for leaving last job: Pushed aside so the VP's girlfriend could steal my job.
Honest, yes. TMI, definitely. Worth bringing her in for an interview, OH YEAH. Meeting with her on Tuesday.
10. Explanation under "Willing to relocate?": My family is willing to relocate for a job. However, not to New England (too cold) and not to Southern California (earthquakes). Indianapolis or Chicago would be fine. My youngest prefers Orlando's proximity to Disney World.
She was an applicant from El Paso, Texas. Too funny.
Bonus 11. References: "Please do not contact my immediate supervisor at the company. My colleagues will give me a better reference."
Wow. Now, I really want to interview you, dude.
That's it. Some of my favorites. I get a ton of resumes everyday, so I might extend this out some more. I find it hard to believe that people actually think employers will hire them based on a tacky, wacky and freaky resume. But I get a kick out of reading them.
It just leads me to think I'll never fill this position. But, I think the Prom Queen might have some potential. I mean, who doesn't want to hire a prom queen with no experience in the field? Wow...
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
KY and Astro...some of my favorite things
Not that my day wasn't full of fun tidbits, but I wanted to post about one of my favorite things in life and I'd like to personally thank the creator of this little thing.
Sometimes in life you need a little extra...hmph...in the bedroom. Whether it's for interesting play or just for a little slippedy slide. So, I personally like AstroGlide. LOVE IT!
This is what I want to know....why is it that KY Jelly, obviously more famous than Astro is the #1 choice for men when it does nothing but stick to your fingers and in your hair and next thing you know you have feathers stuck to your behind? What's up guys? Don't you know that we don't like to have this sticky substance in our hair? I personally don't mind a little mess, but when it's manufactured mess, I draw the line.
So, after years of careful research...or just trying a few new tactics, I found the perfect specimen...my beloved ASTROGLIDE.
It slides through your fingers like butter. No lie. When you're done, it's done. No mess, no fuss. Voila!
Even though C knows I prefer Mr. Astro, he still comes home with the sticky, gunky junk. I've tried the explosion pack. You know, the one from the commercial that is supposed to create fireworks. Yet again, gunk stuck all over me. I finish more pissed off than satisfied. Walking to the bathroom, cussing him out the entire way.
I know it's not his fault, but come on....help a girl out!
So, in hopes of getting through to him and all of the other men in the blogger universe, please be kind to your ladies and buy them Astroglide.
And thank you, once again, to Mr. Astroglide himself. I appreciate your service to women all around the world.
Sometimes in life you need a little extra...hmph...in the bedroom. Whether it's for interesting play or just for a little slippedy slide. So, I personally like AstroGlide. LOVE IT!
This is what I want to know....why is it that KY Jelly, obviously more famous than Astro is the #1 choice for men when it does nothing but stick to your fingers and in your hair and next thing you know you have feathers stuck to your behind? What's up guys? Don't you know that we don't like to have this sticky substance in our hair? I personally don't mind a little mess, but when it's manufactured mess, I draw the line.
So, after years of careful research...or just trying a few new tactics, I found the perfect specimen...my beloved ASTROGLIDE.
It slides through your fingers like butter. No lie. When you're done, it's done. No mess, no fuss. Voila!
Even though C knows I prefer Mr. Astro, he still comes home with the sticky, gunky junk. I've tried the explosion pack. You know, the one from the commercial that is supposed to create fireworks. Yet again, gunk stuck all over me. I finish more pissed off than satisfied. Walking to the bathroom, cussing him out the entire way.
I know it's not his fault, but come on....help a girl out!
So, in hopes of getting through to him and all of the other men in the blogger universe, please be kind to your ladies and buy them Astroglide.
And thank you, once again, to Mr. Astroglide himself. I appreciate your service to women all around the world.
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