My apologies in advance if I am overly opinionated and offensive in this post. I am, however, writing my blog - my personal space for airing out my thoughts and sharing whatever vignets of (not really) wisdom, and tidbits of this and that.
Tonight I write about smells. Yes, smells. I am obsessed with smelling good. My personal space and my person. I also enjoy when other people smell good (think: "Gain" commercials where the woman is sniffing the man on the bus). Okay I don't go around sniffing people but I do appreciate a good clean fresh scent. However, having said that, I do baffle, (and do so not so quietly sometimes), at people who either put on too much perfume, or are saturated with food smells. This happens frequently when riding on the bus. Seriously, if you are going to cook fish or onions for breakfast, you may as well not even bother showering or putting on clean clothes because YOU STINK. I tell you, if I find myself smelling of food because I have been to a restaurant, it is enough to drive me to distraction. It's awful.
As for the matter of too much perfume, or for that matter, the type of perfume, well, here we have a whooooole other story.
Lets be honest, fragrance is a very, very personal thing (which is why buying perfume as a gift is a mistake unless you have been instructed by the receiver of said gift). And even though I have now acknowledged that, I feel it is my duty and obligation to tell everyone who wears that L'il Goat's Milk that they STINK!
I was at the grocery store today and passed by a woman wearing that dreadful Goat's Milk stuff and got a lung-full of it. Ugh, it was gag-a-roo-a-rama. I'm not sure what it is about it, but it's the worst smelling stuff out there. It is just so "old lady" too. And while on the topic of "old lady", when it comes to old lady perfume, I have been convinced that "they" send out sample bottles with the old age pension cheques because they ALL smell the same. I would be curious to know what it is. Is it just old age and the body chemistry and it wouldn't matter what they spray, they would still smell like that? Or is it just some particular brand from their young years that they have all held on to??? And I guess the sniffer must go with old age too because they all smell like they took a bath in it. I had the pleasure of being on a plane once with a bunch of grannies who all smelled to high heaven. Ugh...that's all I can say about that. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against old ladies, just the way they smell of "old lady" perfume.
Well, since I'm sure I will never be able to rid the world of that awful Goat's Milk stuff nor stop people from cooking onions before going out anywhere, I'm going to go and Febreeze my house now.
Those are the (rude) bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers for now...
Till next time...
~M~
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Of Work and Babies
Well it has been awhile since I posted anything and that is mainly due to the fact my life has been a bit of a whirlwind lately.
I just recently obtained a new job with a lawfirm. It has been my dream of the last 10 years or so to obtain a job at this particular lawfirm. It is indeed, the "Royal Family" of law. So I was aiming high. I have been studying part-time at night to become a legal assistant and I still have a long long way to go. I found a position at this firm that does not require actual legal training, in the document processing department. So BONUS right? I applied for the job, and long story short, got the job and quit my job of the last 15 years to pursue my DREAM JOB (or at least my Dream Company to work for, to get to my dream job)!! How cool is that? How many people get to even go for an interview at their dream job? Not too many I daresay.
So about the job. I am learning. It is a steep learning curve. And lots of stress. It will be a long time before I am adept at handling everything that comes my way. However, on the bright side, my boss did say she was proud of how well I was catching on and very impressed with how calm I am under pressure.
Now I will leave that portion of the conversation and switch gears for a few minutes.
My little boy was sick this weekend. At about 8:30am on Saturday morning everything went sideways and all plans for our long weekend together went out the window. We are talking unpleasantries pouring forth from both ends.
After dealing with this all weekend, I have found myself drawing similarities between being a mother who is handling a sick baby, and working in the job that I am. I have decided that if you can handle a sick baby pouring from both ends, you can handle just about anything your work life will throw at you.
Lets see what handling a sick baby can teach you:
How to manage changing priorities
How to deal with demanding people
How to work quickly and efficiently
How to manage your time effectively (ie, don't mess around on Blogger or Facebook when you know you only have a small window of time to shower, or whatever - which in fact I did do and paid the price)
How not to sweat the small stuff ( ie, not to worry about the sheets on the bed when child is grabbing at your legs, crying, and wanting cuddles)
Risk managment / discretion (ie holding half naked child whose bum is being aired out)
So it has been a very enlightening weekend. I have learned much. I realize now that even though at times I feel under-qualified for my dream job, I am indeed qualified. I think when women who have chosen to stay home with their children re-enter the work force, they need to look at the basic skills that dealing with a child requires and really emphasize that to their prospective employers.
It really is quite remarkable. I'm always in awe of what is required of a mother and perhaps just a little bit sad that my mom is no longer alive so that I could tell her how much I appreciate what she did for me and my siblings. Moms really are heros.
Well those are the bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers.
Till next time...
~ M ~
I just recently obtained a new job with a lawfirm. It has been my dream of the last 10 years or so to obtain a job at this particular lawfirm. It is indeed, the "Royal Family" of law. So I was aiming high. I have been studying part-time at night to become a legal assistant and I still have a long long way to go. I found a position at this firm that does not require actual legal training, in the document processing department. So BONUS right? I applied for the job, and long story short, got the job and quit my job of the last 15 years to pursue my DREAM JOB (or at least my Dream Company to work for, to get to my dream job)!! How cool is that? How many people get to even go for an interview at their dream job? Not too many I daresay.
So about the job. I am learning. It is a steep learning curve. And lots of stress. It will be a long time before I am adept at handling everything that comes my way. However, on the bright side, my boss did say she was proud of how well I was catching on and very impressed with how calm I am under pressure.
Now I will leave that portion of the conversation and switch gears for a few minutes.
My little boy was sick this weekend. At about 8:30am on Saturday morning everything went sideways and all plans for our long weekend together went out the window. We are talking unpleasantries pouring forth from both ends.
After dealing with this all weekend, I have found myself drawing similarities between being a mother who is handling a sick baby, and working in the job that I am. I have decided that if you can handle a sick baby pouring from both ends, you can handle just about anything your work life will throw at you.
Lets see what handling a sick baby can teach you:
How to manage changing priorities
How to deal with demanding people
How to work quickly and efficiently
How to manage your time effectively (ie, don't mess around on Blogger or Facebook when you know you only have a small window of time to shower, or whatever - which in fact I did do and paid the price)
How not to sweat the small stuff ( ie, not to worry about the sheets on the bed when child is grabbing at your legs, crying, and wanting cuddles)
Risk managment / discretion (ie holding half naked child whose bum is being aired out)
So it has been a very enlightening weekend. I have learned much. I realize now that even though at times I feel under-qualified for my dream job, I am indeed qualified. I think when women who have chosen to stay home with their children re-enter the work force, they need to look at the basic skills that dealing with a child requires and really emphasize that to their prospective employers.
It really is quite remarkable. I'm always in awe of what is required of a mother and perhaps just a little bit sad that my mom is no longer alive so that I could tell her how much I appreciate what she did for me and my siblings. Moms really are heros.
Well those are the bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers.
Till next time...
~ M ~
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Finding the Open Chip Bag
Like many people, I am trying to be careful with what I eat and trying to lose a few pounds. (In case you missed that in my last post - "A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On" LOL). My biggest problem is that I live with family; my brother, his wife, and two teenage kids. Now for all that we eat pretty nutritious meals, I must confess there seems to be a steady supply of potato chips coming through this household. None of which at my expense. Mind you there was a time when I was on mat leave that I discovered a particularly tasty brand and flavor (side note: oooh the chips were thick cut, rarely a broken one in the bag, and generously seasoned). I have since broken myself of the habit and am now a recovering chipaholic. Seriously. If it's a bag I have purchased, I can not touch even one potato chip or I feel the urge to finish the entire bag. It drives me to the point of absolute distraction. If I know they are sitting on a shelf somewhere, half finished, well it's not long before I am in them again. I do, however, try to exercise more discretion when it is the family-shared bag. But not by much.
Sometimes I do wonder, though, if certain members aren't out to sabotage my efforts. The sheer quantity of potato chips that come through here makes it hard to resist. On one occasion, I was looking in the cereal cupboard, which is not usually where the chips are kept, but low and behold, there they were. And I was home alone too. Double whammy! No one around to see me pork out. Ooooh the salty, crunchy goodness. Sad thing is, I will stand there munching away, crumbs falling everywhere, reading the nutrition label and calculating fat and calories with every chip I eat. However, I figure the numbers only apply to the "whole sized" chip and not the broken ones so I can eat more of the broken ones. Only problem is, the bag was FULL of broken chips. Darn it anyways. In the end I eat way more than a serving, even with the broken chips and find myself guzzling water all day long to combat the salt intake. Then the guilt sets in and I wonder how many calories I really took in. It's usually at this point I wonder why they don't create those nutrition content labels to give you the total calories for the whole bag. Now THAT'S a serving! Wouldn't you say so?
Now we haven't even touched on chip dip. Potato chips on their own are glorious, golden wafers of yumminess, but when you factor in the dip, they suddenly take a back seat, and it becomes aaaallll about the dip. As good as the chip is, it is now a mere conveyance for the dip - provided you have a particularly good dip. When I find myself spooning the dip out with the chip by the heaps, I know it's game over. Forget counting calories and fat grams. I'm done. Finished. Bye bye. Forget the diet. I blew it. At least for today. Try again tomorrow.
Slowly but surely I am coming to terms with it. It's true though. I can not have even one. There are some things a person can enjoy in small quantities, like chocolate, or cheesecake, however potato chips (and dip) are not those things. I have to learn that there will always be chips in the house, and yes, I will happen upon them at times when I am alone. But they must be avoided at all cost. I must learn to be at peace living beside potato chips. It's kind of like an alcoholic working in a liquor store though, don't you think? Oh well, I shall persevere.
Those are my ramblings; the bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers.
Happy (and healthy) snacking, till next time ...
~ M ~
Sometimes I do wonder, though, if certain members aren't out to sabotage my efforts. The sheer quantity of potato chips that come through here makes it hard to resist. On one occasion, I was looking in the cereal cupboard, which is not usually where the chips are kept, but low and behold, there they were. And I was home alone too. Double whammy! No one around to see me pork out. Ooooh the salty, crunchy goodness. Sad thing is, I will stand there munching away, crumbs falling everywhere, reading the nutrition label and calculating fat and calories with every chip I eat. However, I figure the numbers only apply to the "whole sized" chip and not the broken ones so I can eat more of the broken ones. Only problem is, the bag was FULL of broken chips. Darn it anyways. In the end I eat way more than a serving, even with the broken chips and find myself guzzling water all day long to combat the salt intake. Then the guilt sets in and I wonder how many calories I really took in. It's usually at this point I wonder why they don't create those nutrition content labels to give you the total calories for the whole bag. Now THAT'S a serving! Wouldn't you say so?
Now we haven't even touched on chip dip. Potato chips on their own are glorious, golden wafers of yumminess, but when you factor in the dip, they suddenly take a back seat, and it becomes aaaallll about the dip. As good as the chip is, it is now a mere conveyance for the dip - provided you have a particularly good dip. When I find myself spooning the dip out with the chip by the heaps, I know it's game over. Forget counting calories and fat grams. I'm done. Finished. Bye bye. Forget the diet. I blew it. At least for today. Try again tomorrow.
Slowly but surely I am coming to terms with it. It's true though. I can not have even one. There are some things a person can enjoy in small quantities, like chocolate, or cheesecake, however potato chips (and dip) are not those things. I have to learn that there will always be chips in the house, and yes, I will happen upon them at times when I am alone. But they must be avoided at all cost. I must learn to be at peace living beside potato chips. It's kind of like an alcoholic working in a liquor store though, don't you think? Oh well, I shall persevere.
Those are my ramblings; the bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers.
Happy (and healthy) snacking, till next time ...
~ M ~
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On!
This is Part II of, "You Can't Shave with Scissors", a post I have removed due to much reconsideration (funny only to me) That posting centered on a training session I had with "dreamy boy" and some unwanted armpit hair. Now I'm about to regale you with the tale of my next training session with dreamy boy.
I have typically been of the opinion that there is no need to be embarrassed in front of a trainer. They are professionals, not unlike a doctor in some regards in that they are accustomed to seeing bodies in all shapes and sizes.
My trainer had emailed me a copy of the routine we were going to go through together and at the top of the list was "jump rope". A brief twinge of concern fluttered through me, but I brushed it off, as I figured, "Oh well, he's likely seen it all. So what. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing and no one can fault me for that, no matter what my shape. "
Well that thinking is noble, isn't it?
I get to the gym and was pleased that it was relatively quiet and not too busy that day. I ask for dreamy boy at the front desk and out we go to the gym floor. We find our spot in the corner, and get all our equipment together. Then he says for me to jump rope for one minute straight. So I start doing it (in front of a mirror no less, oh yeaaah), and two things happen here. 1) My belly starts flopping up and down. Oh, I tried not to let it get to me, and to hold to my noble thinking: "I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. If I were skinny I wouldn't have to do this, so pooh on whoever is watching and snickering". Of course no one was but you know.. and 2) My britches were sliding off. Oh yes. I have managed to lose a bit of weight, just enough to make my workout pants slightly loose. They are fine for most activities, but something bouncy like jump rope or running, well they slide down pretty bad.
You can only imagine how embarassing this was. I mean, come on. Remember all the trouble I went through to remove armpit hair for this guy (unsuccessfully mind you). Now here I am in the middle of the gym, flab fluttering about, and my pants falling down. Sad thing is, I was doing really really well with the jump rope. It's not like I was tripping up a lot and could actually have a legitimate reason to stop. No. I had to stop in the middle of perfectly good jumping to pull up my pants.
What made it worse is we continued with our routine and when it came time to go through it a second time, he made a comment that we would just forget the jump rope until I get new pants. Oh nothing like rubbing it in. No, he couldn't have just passed it over and said nothing.
But that's not all. It's so weird with this guy. I have such a hard time watching him demonstrate the moves because you have to really examine his body and movement. Makes me uncomfortable. And then when he was having me do the walking lunges he would stand in front of me and walk backwards as I lunged towards him. Well he is fairly tall, and every time I would lunge forward, it would bring me face to face with ...yes, that. Oh talk about weird. I mean where am I supposed to look. So I just pretended to look right through him. Still made me uncomfortable. (Reminds me of my wall climbing experience, which I will have to share with you sometime.)
At the end of it all though, it was good. A good workout with a great trainer and he gave me another one of those half winks, showing off his adorable dimple.
Well those are my bits and pieces for now. A tad late, but there they are. Hope you got a giggle.
Till next time...
~M~
I have typically been of the opinion that there is no need to be embarrassed in front of a trainer. They are professionals, not unlike a doctor in some regards in that they are accustomed to seeing bodies in all shapes and sizes.
My trainer had emailed me a copy of the routine we were going to go through together and at the top of the list was "jump rope". A brief twinge of concern fluttered through me, but I brushed it off, as I figured, "Oh well, he's likely seen it all. So what. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing and no one can fault me for that, no matter what my shape. "
Well that thinking is noble, isn't it?
I get to the gym and was pleased that it was relatively quiet and not too busy that day. I ask for dreamy boy at the front desk and out we go to the gym floor. We find our spot in the corner, and get all our equipment together. Then he says for me to jump rope for one minute straight. So I start doing it (in front of a mirror no less, oh yeaaah), and two things happen here. 1) My belly starts flopping up and down. Oh, I tried not to let it get to me, and to hold to my noble thinking: "I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. If I were skinny I wouldn't have to do this, so pooh on whoever is watching and snickering". Of course no one was but you know.. and 2) My britches were sliding off. Oh yes. I have managed to lose a bit of weight, just enough to make my workout pants slightly loose. They are fine for most activities, but something bouncy like jump rope or running, well they slide down pretty bad.
You can only imagine how embarassing this was. I mean, come on. Remember all the trouble I went through to remove armpit hair for this guy (unsuccessfully mind you). Now here I am in the middle of the gym, flab fluttering about, and my pants falling down. Sad thing is, I was doing really really well with the jump rope. It's not like I was tripping up a lot and could actually have a legitimate reason to stop. No. I had to stop in the middle of perfectly good jumping to pull up my pants.
What made it worse is we continued with our routine and when it came time to go through it a second time, he made a comment that we would just forget the jump rope until I get new pants. Oh nothing like rubbing it in. No, he couldn't have just passed it over and said nothing.
But that's not all. It's so weird with this guy. I have such a hard time watching him demonstrate the moves because you have to really examine his body and movement. Makes me uncomfortable. And then when he was having me do the walking lunges he would stand in front of me and walk backwards as I lunged towards him. Well he is fairly tall, and every time I would lunge forward, it would bring me face to face with ...yes, that. Oh talk about weird. I mean where am I supposed to look. So I just pretended to look right through him. Still made me uncomfortable. (Reminds me of my wall climbing experience, which I will have to share with you sometime.)
At the end of it all though, it was good. A good workout with a great trainer and he gave me another one of those half winks, showing off his adorable dimple.
Well those are my bits and pieces for now. A tad late, but there they are. Hope you got a giggle.
Till next time...
~M~
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Flatulence, Inappropriate Laughter, and the Moving Baby Diaper Change
I think the title speaks for itself. Yes, this indeed falls under the category of mamma blogging. It's a compilation of a few things that occur during the mundane day to day administration of life. They may not be super noteworthy or hugely hilarious but they are fuel enough for a slight giggle and a grin.
Flatulence
I don't wish to be overly gross in discussing flatulence, however, when you are in the presence of a child with flatulence, it can make you chuckle a little bit (in the case of my family, a lot). My son who is now 18 months old, enjoys eating beans. You know, canned baked beans, the kind that cause gas. Now, even at the best of times my son is a bit prone to gas, but you get him after some beans, and well, he rattles them out so long and loud it would shame a grown man!! I mean, from across a noisy room where a loud television is blaring, and there is the sound of family activity throughout the house, my sister-in-law asks, "Was that YOU?" And I replied with, "No, that was HIM", pointing to my son. Well of course, that just led to regales of laughter. And now my son is starting to laugh at his gas. I can't wait until we are in public and that starts to happen. I may have to lay off the beans. But the thing is, he really loves them, and being such a picky eater, I hate to cut anything out. Ahhh, I guess we will just have to put up with it. I don't see it ever stopping. Not with boys anyways. I'm not sure what it is about that, but there does seem to be a certain tendancy towards "airing: it out" with boys. Oh well, like Shrek always says, "Better out than in".
Inappropriate Laughter
This next story comes up as a result of our visit to the health clinic yesterday to get my son's shots. I was rather on edge at this visit because of a previous visit six months ago. Allow me to describe the scene. My son had just got his one year shots, and we had to wait out the mandatory 15 minute waiting period in case of reactions, before we could go. In this time, he had finished his crying and had commenced eating a handful of cheerios that I had brought for him. Meanwhile, another family had come out of an exam room with their daughter who evidently just had her shots as she was crying her head off. Well if my son doesn't start to laugh. And I mean one of those good hearty belly laughs. Oh, I was mortified. And the father of the little girl says to his wife, "Oh and this one's laughing at her". The father actually seemed to be rather amused by it, but that didn't help the fact I felt like I was harboring some insensitive, perhaps "not quite right" child who laughs at another child's pain, as if to say, "Hahaha, it's your turn now". I know he was too young to formulate that kind of thinking (I hope anyways!). We would later find out that he may have thought the little girl was laughing as he does start to laugh when someone else is laughing really hard. However, at the time, it really was rather embarassing so all I can say is I am really glad that didn't happen yesterday.
Moving Baby Diaper Change
Okay, this may be more of a question than anything. Really, how do you do it?? I have not yet mastered it and I feel like a total chump. I mean, try to get my kid to stay still for a diaper change...just try! And out in public, well I won't even bother. I just pack up and go home to be honest. One time I had to get a friend to hold him down while we changed his diaper. And trust me, I would not have tried the change if he didn't absolutely NEED it. It took almost a full 10 minutes to do it. This was not a fun time. I mean, without getting too graphic here, you can only imagine the scene: No really - I will spare you the details. And how about those mothers who are able to change the kid while he is standing up??? yah, I just am not coordinated enough or something to manage that one.
Anyways, those are my little bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers for now...
Till next time..
~ M ~
Flatulence
I don't wish to be overly gross in discussing flatulence, however, when you are in the presence of a child with flatulence, it can make you chuckle a little bit (in the case of my family, a lot). My son who is now 18 months old, enjoys eating beans. You know, canned baked beans, the kind that cause gas. Now, even at the best of times my son is a bit prone to gas, but you get him after some beans, and well, he rattles them out so long and loud it would shame a grown man!! I mean, from across a noisy room where a loud television is blaring, and there is the sound of family activity throughout the house, my sister-in-law asks, "Was that YOU?" And I replied with, "No, that was HIM", pointing to my son. Well of course, that just led to regales of laughter. And now my son is starting to laugh at his gas. I can't wait until we are in public and that starts to happen. I may have to lay off the beans. But the thing is, he really loves them, and being such a picky eater, I hate to cut anything out. Ahhh, I guess we will just have to put up with it. I don't see it ever stopping. Not with boys anyways. I'm not sure what it is about that, but there does seem to be a certain tendancy towards "airing: it out" with boys. Oh well, like Shrek always says, "Better out than in".
Inappropriate Laughter
This next story comes up as a result of our visit to the health clinic yesterday to get my son's shots. I was rather on edge at this visit because of a previous visit six months ago. Allow me to describe the scene. My son had just got his one year shots, and we had to wait out the mandatory 15 minute waiting period in case of reactions, before we could go. In this time, he had finished his crying and had commenced eating a handful of cheerios that I had brought for him. Meanwhile, another family had come out of an exam room with their daughter who evidently just had her shots as she was crying her head off. Well if my son doesn't start to laugh. And I mean one of those good hearty belly laughs. Oh, I was mortified. And the father of the little girl says to his wife, "Oh and this one's laughing at her". The father actually seemed to be rather amused by it, but that didn't help the fact I felt like I was harboring some insensitive, perhaps "not quite right" child who laughs at another child's pain, as if to say, "Hahaha, it's your turn now". I know he was too young to formulate that kind of thinking (I hope anyways!). We would later find out that he may have thought the little girl was laughing as he does start to laugh when someone else is laughing really hard. However, at the time, it really was rather embarassing so all I can say is I am really glad that didn't happen yesterday.
Moving Baby Diaper Change
Okay, this may be more of a question than anything. Really, how do you do it?? I have not yet mastered it and I feel like a total chump. I mean, try to get my kid to stay still for a diaper change...just try! And out in public, well I won't even bother. I just pack up and go home to be honest. One time I had to get a friend to hold him down while we changed his diaper. And trust me, I would not have tried the change if he didn't absolutely NEED it. It took almost a full 10 minutes to do it. This was not a fun time. I mean, without getting too graphic here, you can only imagine the scene: No really - I will spare you the details. And how about those mothers who are able to change the kid while he is standing up??? yah, I just am not coordinated enough or something to manage that one.
Anyways, those are my little bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers for now...
Till next time..
~ M ~
Sunday, March 20, 2011
You Don't Want to Go Shopping With Me - Ever
I know it's been awhile since I posted anything, and to be quite honest, since becoming a mom, I haven't had much to blog about other than mommy things, and I really don't want to be a complete mommy blogger. I mean a little bit here and there is great, but all out mommy blogging, well, it doesn't appeal to everyone does it?
So I thought I would share with you some of my shopping experiences. We can all relate to shopping. Only thing is, I can be a bit of a nightmare to shop with. Oh yes.
I don't know what it is, maybe it's just a matter of getting older and finding I have less patience and expect better service (especially since I used to work in retail), or if something happened during and after pregnancy that loosened my tongue to express what I really think. I have three separate scenarios to share with you. They may not be particularly funny to some but I think most people will say,"uh huh, yep. Been there, thought that,wish I said that". Here they are in no particular order:
The Shoe Store:
I went into a certain discount shoe store, one where I used to be able to purchase not bad looking shoes at a reasonable price. I would go in regularly and began noticing that the style and quality of the shoes was going downhill. They looked awful. This went on for quite some time. Being as cranky as I was on this occasion and irritated that there was no good stock, I approached one of the sales associates there and told her that I really thought the shoes were quite awful, had been for quite some time, and to please pass that information on to their head offices. She actually agreed with me and we commiserated over the lousy stock for a few minutes. It hasn't made a difference to their dreadful stock, but it felt good to say what had been on my mind for months on end and to have my point validated too.
The Maternity Store:
This is perhaps my favorite. I mean, what was this girl thinking. When I was 8 months pregnant, I went into a maternity store to find a skirt. I wanted one that came to just below my knees. I wasn't out to look like some sexy pregnant hootchie mamma. The sales associate, who looked like she might have just graduated high school, came up to help me. I specified what I wanted, very clearly. Guess what she brings back. Just guess....
Figure it out yet??
I tell you, this thing looked like a cumberbund. My jaw dropped. And I said in the loudest voice possible (in an effort to attract the attention of any senior staff there) - "ARE YOU SERIOUS!? REALLY?! ARE YOU SERIOUS? You have nothing longer?" The answer was no, and I walked out, angry. I will never forget the look on the girl's face. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not out to embarass sales associates but this girl clearly had a problem with listening.
The Department Store:
It was just before Christmas and I needed to buy some winter boots. I was already stressed out as it was due to dealing with people. Allow me to digress for a moment. There is only one elevator in this mall (well there are a couple others - one in each of the department stores at either end of the mall. So technically, in the main mall, only one elevator). This elevator is painfully slow, and I always say, unless you are handicapped, in a wheelchair, or have a stroller, use the stinkin' stairs!! So here are these people with two feet and a heartbeat trying to use this small slow elevator. I had to wait for quite some time before baby and I could get on the elevator. That had my blood just boiling. Then lets not forget these clueless people who for some reason are completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people in the mall, LOTS of other people. So lets just stop in the middle of the mall and stare up at the ceiling!! Like what's the matter with you??
Anyways, back to the department store shoe section. I finally get to the department store and the shoe department is a-buzz of activity, lots of people there. And only ONE person on! ONE! Shocking. For that time of year, with such traffic, they put ONE person on. I was outraged. I recall standing in the middle of the shoe department and saying to anyone who would listen: "This is insane that they would have only one person on!!!!" No one responded, which doesn't surprise me.
So those are my shopping stories. I venture to say most people would be embarrassed to shop with me. I should point out, I somehow missed out on the shopping gene that is inherent in most women as I just HATE it. And I don't make a habit of ALWAYS saying what is on my mind. I am learning that just because it is true, doesn't mean you have to say it. It's a hard lesson to learn, but I'm working on it. But truth be told speaking my mind in these situations was somewhat...I want to say cathartic. It felt good.
I will share with you one more experience which happened to me yesterday. I was at the grocery store and I was stopped in front of the dairy fridge when I heard from behind me a man laughing. I turned, a bit puzzled, and I said, "Oh sorry, I'll be out of the way in just a second'. He said, "No" and laughed again. "I just about hugged you. You look like my wife from behind". Well if we both didn't have a good laugh over that one. Would have been much funnier had he actually hugged me. I might have clobbered him.
Well those are my bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers. I hope to have more soon. I have been so busy with work and school, and of course baby, that I haven't had lots of time. Hopefully things will settle down soon.
Till then ...
~ M ~
So I thought I would share with you some of my shopping experiences. We can all relate to shopping. Only thing is, I can be a bit of a nightmare to shop with. Oh yes.
I don't know what it is, maybe it's just a matter of getting older and finding I have less patience and expect better service (especially since I used to work in retail), or if something happened during and after pregnancy that loosened my tongue to express what I really think. I have three separate scenarios to share with you. They may not be particularly funny to some but I think most people will say,"uh huh, yep. Been there, thought that,wish I said that". Here they are in no particular order:
The Shoe Store:
I went into a certain discount shoe store, one where I used to be able to purchase not bad looking shoes at a reasonable price. I would go in regularly and began noticing that the style and quality of the shoes was going downhill. They looked awful. This went on for quite some time. Being as cranky as I was on this occasion and irritated that there was no good stock, I approached one of the sales associates there and told her that I really thought the shoes were quite awful, had been for quite some time, and to please pass that information on to their head offices. She actually agreed with me and we commiserated over the lousy stock for a few minutes. It hasn't made a difference to their dreadful stock, but it felt good to say what had been on my mind for months on end and to have my point validated too.
The Maternity Store:
This is perhaps my favorite. I mean, what was this girl thinking. When I was 8 months pregnant, I went into a maternity store to find a skirt. I wanted one that came to just below my knees. I wasn't out to look like some sexy pregnant hootchie mamma. The sales associate, who looked like she might have just graduated high school, came up to help me. I specified what I wanted, very clearly. Guess what she brings back. Just guess....
Figure it out yet??
I tell you, this thing looked like a cumberbund. My jaw dropped. And I said in the loudest voice possible (in an effort to attract the attention of any senior staff there) - "ARE YOU SERIOUS!? REALLY?! ARE YOU SERIOUS? You have nothing longer?" The answer was no, and I walked out, angry. I will never forget the look on the girl's face. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not out to embarass sales associates but this girl clearly had a problem with listening.
The Department Store:
It was just before Christmas and I needed to buy some winter boots. I was already stressed out as it was due to dealing with people. Allow me to digress for a moment. There is only one elevator in this mall (well there are a couple others - one in each of the department stores at either end of the mall. So technically, in the main mall, only one elevator). This elevator is painfully slow, and I always say, unless you are handicapped, in a wheelchair, or have a stroller, use the stinkin' stairs!! So here are these people with two feet and a heartbeat trying to use this small slow elevator. I had to wait for quite some time before baby and I could get on the elevator. That had my blood just boiling. Then lets not forget these clueless people who for some reason are completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people in the mall, LOTS of other people. So lets just stop in the middle of the mall and stare up at the ceiling!! Like what's the matter with you??
Anyways, back to the department store shoe section. I finally get to the department store and the shoe department is a-buzz of activity, lots of people there. And only ONE person on! ONE! Shocking. For that time of year, with such traffic, they put ONE person on. I was outraged. I recall standing in the middle of the shoe department and saying to anyone who would listen: "This is insane that they would have only one person on!!!!" No one responded, which doesn't surprise me.
So those are my shopping stories. I venture to say most people would be embarrassed to shop with me. I should point out, I somehow missed out on the shopping gene that is inherent in most women as I just HATE it. And I don't make a habit of ALWAYS saying what is on my mind. I am learning that just because it is true, doesn't mean you have to say it. It's a hard lesson to learn, but I'm working on it. But truth be told speaking my mind in these situations was somewhat...I want to say cathartic. It felt good.
I will share with you one more experience which happened to me yesterday. I was at the grocery store and I was stopped in front of the dairy fridge when I heard from behind me a man laughing. I turned, a bit puzzled, and I said, "Oh sorry, I'll be out of the way in just a second'. He said, "No" and laughed again. "I just about hugged you. You look like my wife from behind". Well if we both didn't have a good laugh over that one. Would have been much funnier had he actually hugged me. I might have clobbered him.
Well those are my bits and pieces from my cupboards and drawers. I hope to have more soon. I have been so busy with work and school, and of course baby, that I haven't had lots of time. Hopefully things will settle down soon.
Till then ...
~ M ~
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)