She's Pretty Tied Up and You Can Ride Her

I feel like I've told this story before, so if you've heard it, go ahead and quit reading.

Sometimes I can't believe the things customers will tell complete strangers.

Just yesterday, I had a woman going on and on about how ill she has been. Which is fine. But she went into great detail and grossed me out.

"I've had the flu and I just had eye surgery. They screwed that up so I can't see very well. And I've had lyme disease for three years. It's been undiagnosed by everyone but me. They're morons down here. My poor dog died from lyme disease and I had to go to New York for them to tell me what I knew. I've lost half my brain from the parasites in my head so long."

Gross!

And awhile back, I had the best call ever.

I had to handle several different accounts for one customer. Each of the accounts was in a different child's name.

One by one we went and after the fourth, he paused. Wondering if I needed to look up another account, I asked "Were there any more?"

"No. We had her tubes tied after that one."

I Can Shoot a Partridge with a Single Cartridge

Last week, I helped Jacque make about a hundred coconutty snowmen.

I was the master artist behind the holly on the top hats. And the beautiful design on the one in front? All me.

The next morning, I woke up with a cold. Jacque offered to help me make shortbread.

I have never made shortbread before, and with Jacque's stand-up mixer, it was pretty easy.

And Jacque's help was greatly appreciated. Especially when I was leaning over to cut the shortbread and my nose decided to turn into a river.

"Hurry Jacque! You have to do this! I have to stop the flow!"

You'll be happy to know (especially if you ate some) no snot flavoring was added to my shortbread.

Raw called while I was at Jacque's. "Tell her 'Thank you!' for my Christmas card!"

Instead, I looked at Jacque and said "You sent them a Christmas card?"

Raw took this to mean I hadn't been sent one. "You didn't get one? Ha ha!"

"I got mine last week!"

"Yeah . . . well . . ." Raw stammered. "Let me look . . . Oh! This was in the mail from two weeks ago!"

"Oh yeah? Last night Jacque took me out for a Christmas dinner!"

"Well, my card had a hundred dollar bill in it!"

I hope your Christmas was merry!

And if you got a Christmas card from me, don't look too hard for any bills!

Our Shallow Years in Fright

I thought I didn't like spiders before. After seeing this, I'm insanely frightened of them.

Seein' Things That I May Never See Again

I guess it's cool to make a list of places visited in the year. Like Kottke and Zach Klein.

In an effort to be in with the in crowd, I decided to make my own list:

Wichita, KS
Bel Aire, KS
Clay Center, KS
Lawrence, KS
Manhattan, KS
Kansas City, KS
Kansas City, MO
Overland Park, KS
Olathe, KS
Newton, KS
Garden Plain, KS
Derby, KS
Udall, KS
Joplin, MO
Pittsburg, KS
El Dorado, KS
Topeka, KS
Holton, KS
Hillsboro, KS
Abilene, KS
Junction City, KS
Wakefield, KS
Fredonia, KS
Parsons, KS
Salina, KS
Emporia, KS

Dang! Two states! I'm a total in!

You Stand Out, It's So Loud

So I'm reading an article about Mt. Saint Helens erupting when I see over to the side another story: "Behar Goes Easy on Hillary Clinton Following Rumsfeld-Like-Hitler 'Faux Pas'."

I click on it, thinking to myself "There is no way Hilary Clinton called Rumsfeld 'Hitler!'"

It turns out that Joy Behar is the one who made the comparison, as a joke. She happens to not only be a host on Thew View, she's is also a comedian.

Does this story feel very anti-Clinton, anti-Behar?

Am I the only person who feels this story is a little less than fair and balanced?

Now All You Kool-Aid Drinkers!

Let me tell you a little story about the show I watched on TLC tonight.

So this guy, Brian, meets this chick, Pam. Brian tells us that "I think I fell in love with her simpleness."

What? That's no compliment! Seriously, would you like it if any of your loved ones called you simmple? My dad uses the term "simpleton" as an insult all the time!

Pam and Brian are so in love that he decides to propose. Ever the charmer, as he slips the ring on her finger, Brian tells Pam "I love you but I don't believe in monogamy."

So Pam threw the ring at Brian, spit in his face and told him to go to hell, right?

Wrong. Pam is simple, remember?

"I thought 'Oh no! He'll probably have an affair. But I guess we'll deal with that when it comes up."

Brian and Pam get married and Pam goes off on a tour of duty. While she's gone, Brian finds and falls in love with Kathy. He calls Pam up and says "Pam, I've found someone else. I still love you but I am in love with Kathy, too. I want us to work together on this one."

Brian decides they will live together as one happy family. Pam is grumpy. "But after about four years, I was able to accept Kathy and come to love her like a sister."

A sister who sleeps with your husband and has his children. Okay.

Years go by, babies are made, a giant house on the hill is built. One day, Brian brings Denise. "She's just my friend. She needs some help and I want her to stay here."

Then the wives realize that Brian and Denise are sleeping together. And of course, Brian decides he wants to marry Denise. "I want her to be a part of our family."

You'd think Pam would be the one to take a stand. She's done it once, she's not doing it again kind of a thing.

Instead, Kathy, the last person to complain about someone trying to horn in on husband time, acts like spoiled youngest kid. She pouts a lot. And she complains about how Denise doesn't pull her weight.

You see, everyone in the house has specific chores. One kid has to feed the chickens, gather eggs and make sure his room is clean. Another feeds the dogs and rounds up the cattle. Denise's job is "the stairs."

Denise cries and goes on and on about the financial contributions she has made to the household. It seems she came to the house right when the family was close to losing their home. How convenient, no?

Just let me know when this stops sounding like a cult.

Finally, the adults all have a sit-down. Brian lays down the law. "You will start acting like a member of the family or you will be leaving."

Kathy bitches and moans. Denise cries and moans.

Then Pam finally takes a stand. "I can't do this anymore! Look at what this is doing to him! I just can't stand seeing this drain him the way it does! It has to stop!"

Wait. What? What about what it's doing to yourself and your family?

Then Brian, stand-up Mr. Sensitive that he is, gets up. He pats Denise on the head and walks out of the room!

He leaves Pam to comfort Denise and tell her "It's time to move on."

I have got to get this guy's number! I am in love!

Its Always the Same and You Know Who's to Blame

When I was at home last weekend, my dad and I were talking.

"You know I was thinking the other day," he said. "We never hear anything good about your customers."

I laughed because it's true! But there are so few good customers to talk about!

Really, most of my customers are short and to the point. There's not much to report. Others, like my astrology guru, love me to death. And some wish death upon me.

These are the customers that seem more interesting to talk about. But I had lots of customers who were pleased with me last week.

One of my short and sweet customers took the time to tell me over and over how good I am. "You are very efficient. Keep up the good work!"

Several customers were impressed by my knowledge of our products. One such customer wanted to put the funds of her mature CD into her savings account because she would be needing the money soon. She needed to have immediate access, rather than waiting for the CD to mature again.

It turned out I had a better option for her. We have a CD that allows you to withdraw funds prior to maturity without a penalty. So she would be earning a higher interest rate, while still being able to transfer the funds when she needed them.

I got a lot of thank-yous for that one!

A guy called in and was yelling right off the bat. "I am calling in for my father! Why wasn't this done right? Arrgh! Grumble! Roar!"

I was able to not only fix the problem, but calm him down enough that he was telling me all about his family. He told me about how he was going to buy his granddaughter a Mustang convertible. He was even prepared to adpot me!

He did ask for my name, though. "Just in case I need to call back and yell about someone in particular."

I have no problem giving my name out when I know I'm doing my job right. Even when I make people mad.

Thursday, a woman called in to do a transfer. She seemed to know what she was doing and I could see from her history that she had done transfers over the phone before.

"I'll just need to ask you a few questions to verify your identity."

"Yeah, I know. Go ahead."

When talking to customers over the phone, we obviously don't have the luxury of asking for a photo ID. We have to identify people by asking certain questions. If they are unable to answer them, we are unable to help them.

Unfortunately, this woman didn't answer my questions correctly.

"You must be kidding me! I've done this before! You can look and see I've done this before! I know what's there! I opened the CD with $40,000! Can't you see that?"

I continued to inform her that we would be happy to help her in the banking center, but I could not help her over the phone.

"You must be drunk! You're sick! You're sick in the head and you're an alcoholic! You are playing head games! What's wrong with you? What is your name? You're going to get fired! You're sick sick sick!!!"

Ouch, right? She would be surprised to know I had only had two Long Island Iced Teas that morning! And yet she was so sure of my drunkenness and information about her CD!

"I put forty. thousand. dollars. in there! . . . Was it fifty?"

Says I Am the Greatest There has ever Been

I am Time Magazine's Person of the Year!

No joke! I really am! See for yourself.

As awesome and deserving as I am of this title, I can't help thinking Time really got lazy on this one.

I Barely Learned the Tune

Last Monday, I discovered Leslie Harpold's Advent Calendar. through a post on Not Martha.

I thought it was a great idea for a site and had no idea at the time that Harpold was a pioneer among personal websites. I read through each of the previous days, desperate to catch up.

I returned a few days later, eager to see the new treats, only to see nothing new had been revealed. I am the last one to gripe about lack of updates on a site, since I'm often horrible about it. So I didn't think much of it.

Then I came across this post at kottke. Then came the avalanche.

Tonight, I have been reading a lot of Leslie's work. Somehow, against all odds, I had managed to never come across it before. Luckily, she left a lot for me to read. And more. More. And probably more.

Her writing is straightforward and funny. From the heart and honest. This is my favorite.

There is speculation that the internet is actually hindering us in the way of human contact. Leslie Harpold was proof that the web can bring us closer together; in the words of others, and her own.

How can i let you know I noticed everything? Nothing went by unappreciated or undetected. How can I convey how lucky I am and how amazing I think humankind is?

You Know That I'm Always Right

angrily
adv : with anger; "he angrily denied the accusation"

Let Your Fever Come

One by one, over the Thanksgiving weekend, Evan, Chris and Jacque all got really horribly sick. In that order.

Evan was first, all misrable during the Thanksgiving festivities. Then Chris started.

Now, this wasn't just your average achy and sneezy stuff. This was the all-out both-ends variety of sick.

When Jacque started feeling queasy, Chris, still miserable, tells Jacque "You'd better get the chicken noodle soup made before you start feeling too bad!"

Last Wednesday, I got a call from my father. "When are you coming here?"

I was planning to visit over the weekend but wasn't leaving until Friday. "Well, maybe Friday. But I was thinking--"

"You mean you aren't coming tonight?"

"Um. No . . ." I was confused. "I have to work . . ."

"But we need you to come up here and take care of us!"

It turns out my parents had been hit by the same flu virus.

We were talking about it this weekend, as I was continually disinfecting things and rubbing hand sanitizer on my hands. "I bet Dad was really happy you gave him such a lovely virus."

"He was pretty grumpy. He would have killed me if he felt like moving."

Take a Look Around, Look What I've Found

Super Slow-Mo Compilation of things in extreme slow motion (water looks so cool).

What I want now is for someone to set up a slo-mo camera behind bulletproof glass and have someone shoot a gun at it.

And Terror is Our Sempahore

Jacque bought Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest yesterday. When I showed up after work, I made her let me watch it.

I'm a relatively big fan of the Pirate movies. I heart pirates and I definitely heart Johnny Depp.

At some point during the film, Johnny did some brilliant thing as Captain Jack Sparrow and I said "That would totally be me. Because I would be the captain on our ship!"

"No way!" Jacque protested. "I would!"

"I would! Because I would whine until I got what I wanted! 'But I wanted to be the captain!'"

"If you were captain, we'd never get anywhere! 'Should we go to Austrailia or Africa? Hmm . . . Which one has the closest Target?'"

I Can't Take How You're Constantly Testing Me

Last year, during the Super Bowl, we ordered Pizza Hut's flamethrower chicken wings.

I had been wanting to try them but was rather disappointed. Sure, they were spicy, but I wouldn't go so far as to give them the flamethrower label.

I talked to Casey soon after and he was telling me how his mouth was on fire after he ate the same chicken wings. He got really angry at me when I told him I didn't think they were so bad.

And ever since, every time we're together, he wants to order some flamethrowers. Just so he can see if I fall on the floor in agony because of the spicy spicy heat.

Tonight, I was eating a burrito with some extra hot habanero sauce. As my mouth burned, I wondered why eating spicy food is such a competition.

We pick on people who don't like spicy food. We compare how hot our meals are and dare people to eat the spiciest peppers.

It's weird. I don't think I've ever had someone say "Oh man! This cake is soo much sweeter than your cake! I bet you can't handle this frosting! I dare you to eat it!"

I think it's wrong to use levels of spice to compete with someone. I'm done berating people for being unable to "handle the heat."

So, Casey, I won't eat flamethrowers with you. I just won't let the spicy tear us apart.

It's Gonna Come Back My Friend

Last year, at Christmas, I inspected my mom and dad's Christmas tree.

"Hey! You didn't put Pupcake at the top!"

My mom hesitated. And not in that "I'm not listening" way.

"I can't find her ornament."

When I was just a wee one, my dad's boss decided I needed a dog and bought me a Beagle. She was a beaut, my poor little Pupcake.

She loved everybody. And everyone loved her. At some point, for Christmas, someone gave Pupcake her very own ornament. It's a gold dog engraved with her name. That's how special she was.

She was crazy, too. She would hear us come home and flip out trying to get inside to see us. We would let her in and she would run circles around the house, unable to contain her excitement.

Unfortunately, it really didn't take much to get her all worked up. We loved to watch her run in circles. It was hilarious and a little scary. You definitely didn't want to be in her path.

One night, my friend from across the street and I had Pupcake holed up in my bedroom while we waited for my grandparents to arrive from Missouri. We got her going crazy. She was running her circles around the room when we heard my mom holler "They're here!"

We opened the door and Pupcake shot out of my room. Unfortunately, the front door was open, too, and she was down the street before I even made it outside.

I'll spare you the details; the long hours waiting to hear her scratching at the door, the guilt, the devastation. I think you can figure out how that story ends.

Knowing all this, it's understandable that I flipped out when Pupcake's ornament went missing. Well, if not understandable, if you know me, it's not surprising.

The other night, I was talking to my dad when he suddenly got excited. "Did we tell you we found Pupcake's ornament?"

It was like a Christmas miracle!

Apparently, Mom was adjusting the branches of the tree after unpacking it from the box and Pupcake just kinda tumbled out. I guess the ornament never got pulled off the tree two years ago and was buried way inside the tree.

So this holiday, with Pupcake at the top of the tree (just warning you, Mom. She'd better be top and center!) we can have a happy Christmas with no (less?) freakouts from yours truly.

Listen to Me Ya Better Listen for Me Now

Winter decided to show up yesterday.

I walked outside in a hoodie and regretted it. The wind tore right through it and froze me up in seconds.

Then, as I was driving to work, the sleet came pounding down.

Sure, it's not going to dent my car like the hail did. But it still hurt.

I know because, since my mirrors and windows were already covered in ice, I had to stick my head out the window to see if I could merge.

Today, it was snowing on my way to work. The roads, though, were really quite fine.

I got to work, and instead of a nice "Hey howya doin'?" I get something else.

"Great. Now we won't get to leave early because everyone is showing up!"

Hey, I would've loved to stay home!

The snow didn't stop. It was a near blizzard all day.

And the whining! "I just want to live!"

You live in Kansas! You deal with this stuff! Get over it!

Then at two, we all got an email saying we would be shutting down at three.

I felt like a kid. I have never gone home early from work because of weather!

Everyone was excited! People were talking about napping. Others had decided to bake.

I was challenging people to snowball fights. It all seemed like so much fun!

Until I had to drive home through the crap.