We've Got to Get Right Back to Where We Started From

Monday, August 24, 2009

Saturday

I left work and was driving home, decided to get some soup since it was both cold and rainy. I called Perren to see if he wanted anything and shortly after hanging up I found myself at a red light staring at a license plate that read DRJ 5483. I was struck with a sense of excitement, I had recently heard about Charlotte's HKJ plate sighting in DC/FC. It occurred to me that this DRJ plate was not a vanity plate, and I was musing on this as I got on the highway and had just pretty much decided that this maybe did not hold any meaning at all when I find in my face once again a plate beginning with DRJ. This is truly exciting, and my hand flies to my mouth as I exclaim "Holy Shit!".
I am an overwhelming urge to spread the news, mainly to Vikki, and am also thinking of other folks, wishing I knew how to text a number of people from my i phone in one message (anyone?) I think how I should be sharing this with my brother as well but does he know about the tremont midget sightings? All sorts of thoughts along these lines running thru my mind but with the immediate need to text Vikki, so I do. I think this is interesting because it sounds like at the very times I was being inundated by DRJ's in my face, she was saying aloud to Joseph "Damn I really miss Grandma".
Fast forward a bit, I get home, eat soup, shower, and head out to Banks Rd for the baby fiesta. What should I see en route -? Yet one more for the day , a DRJ plate flying by me on the highway.
At this point, I am really contemplating license plates and how they all begin with three letters, ours is DRE which makes Perren and I hardcore and loosely associated with Death Row records. But really, I think, they must be on a DRJ roll at the Ohio DMV and this explains that. So, I basically said to myself - self, continue to be aware of the plates you pass and if you keep seeing DRJ's, then there you go. Today is Monday and I have yet to embark on my car bound errands but I did plenty of cruising around yesterday on the high way and otherwise and not a DRJ in sight. Perhaps Aunt Helen got out to Jho's shower/fiesta, I can only imagine her glee at 1. the shout to Vasu of "beat it like it's a Paki!" in reference to the pinata, from the mouth of a man whom I have never really spoken to, and can now vow that I never will ( and this is an OC dweller, can't blame Lorain Co.!) 2. The hi-fucking-larious convos in the kitchen between the Banks roaders, N&V and I about Jho's dating history - not to mention Nate's inexplicable 9well, certainly alcohol played some part) on going walk down memory lane to our cleveland heights days.
Anyway, who knows, just thought I would share..

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

She is with me in my time(s) of need

Driving home from the indian grocery store this morning with the in-laws (we need a blog name for them, btw), feeling kind of blue for a variety of reasons...pass the little bodega on the corner of Abbey Rd. and W. 20 and glance at the stoop...

Sitting there is a fat, like, OBESE midget, legs splayed over the edge of a milk crate, puffing on a cigarette, and he gives me the surliest glare. Oh yeah.

In my mind, I hear Dr. J's crack up laugh and instantly my mood improves!

Monday, August 17, 2009

Because few things feel as awesome as spending a shit ton of money -


- I have paid off all of my student loans.
- I spent a grotesque amount today at Target, on what you ask? a mothafuckin Dyson, y'all.
- I'm not quite done yet. My next tattoo should commence towards the end of September, I am off to san fran in a week, always pricey but I think I can play it cheap outside of lodging.
Spent this weekend with my globe trotting friend from college (we had the best lunch I have ever had in my own home consisting of oysters and champagne among other things, suprisingly an affordable afternoon), we began the planning for a South East Asia extravaganza, hopefully for sometime in 2010.
Is there a point where retail therapy ceases to be effective?
Should I be concerned?
I don't think so.
And now to see if I can't convince rufus to let me dyson his ass from head to tail. Otherwise, I'll just follow him and collect the hair as he runs away from the all terrifying beast.


Sunday, August 09, 2009

This, however, makes for a lovely place to go to work

Based on the wildlife sightings as of late, I should work a lot more and be home a lot less. The below horrifying photos were however both taken outside of the house. Thank christ.

Not what I want to see in my garbage can.

Not what I want to come home to


Giant slug on my house. Gross.

Friday, August 07, 2009

Welcome Back

I've been meaning to post for awhile. No real reasons why I haven't, just laziness and getting sucked into facebook for hours at a time. And, in taking the advice in a recent comment from Matt, instead of just going forth with all the topics in one new post, I'm going to spread them out a bit and try to spend some time at this.

Of the many things that have crossed my mind to write about, including my new platform on regulating the lives of senior citizens and why I should never, ever go back to a Marc's store, the top ten things to never say to a pregnant woman, general thoughts on becoming a parent (terrifying!), random encounters with Toddling Bruce, etc., the one that takes precedence today is the complete lack of customer service at my local Home Depot.

Now, for many reasons, I've been spending a lot of time at Home Depot recently. We are trying to finish up all manor of projects at home before the arrival of Taj Jr., and because neither my husband nor myself are particularly handy, we often fail to get all the necessary supplies on our first or even second trip. Thus, I've been at Home Depot no fewer than 10 times in the last 2 weeks...really. This bothers me on many levels, but that reflection is for another post.

At each of my visits, I know what I need, but am either unable to find it or unable to reach it. At each of my visits, there seem to be many employees, but none who wish to help me with either task. I spend a particularly extended amount of time at the paint counter, where perhaps the most unfriendly of the employees are stationed, because that is where people seem to need the most help, so it makes sense to place your least trained and least hospitable workers there.

Plus, the paint counter is conveniently located directly opposite the general customer service desk, where there are often as many as 10 other employees, just hanging out, talking about life, enjoying some coffee, and in general, NOT HELPING ANYONE. This never ceases to intrigue me.

So last week, on my 6th or 7th visit in as many days, to get yet another can of deck stain, I had reached my breaking point. Really. Just to set the stage: I'm fucking 8 months pregnant. Its hot in Cleveland (finally!). I'm hungry and thirsty constantly. I also almost always need to pee. I'm cranky. The deck stain I need is so high on a shelf, I can't reach it without climbing onto a ladder. I ask the two employees, who are in the same aisle WITH A LADDER if they would mind getting me down the can. They decline. Really. They say, go to the paint counter and ask the guy there, he'll get it for you. Well, I know that, but he's helping the 4 other people who are there and if I can just take the can with me, he can mix the stain without having to walk down and get it and maybe I can get the fuck out of home depot in less than an hour, which itself would be a miracle. However, the two employees, who are in the same aisle WITH A LADDER continue to decline to give me the stain. So I waddle (side note: I'm really playing up the pregnant thing, especially in public, because usually it gets me excellent treatment and pleasantness from people...apparently, not in the depot though.) back to the paint desk...wait in line for the ONE employee working there, listening to the chatter of the ten other employees who are just chilling at the customer service desk. Not a care in the world.

Now, it is important to know that I avoid confrontation AT ALL COSTS. I don't know why, but I do. Rarely do I complain about service or products, or anything in stores or restaurants. I hate to return things. So I'm not sure why I chose to spout off this next statement, really loudly, to no one in particular, while standing in line. Oh that's right, see above.

"I'm amazed that with our country in such a deep recession...and with all these people out of work...that Home Depot would employ so many people who just don't want to help customers! I just don't get it! I'm amazed! I can't believe no one else in this entire store can help us here at the paint counter!!"

My fellow customers all kind of nodded while taking a few steps away from me, the goofy pregnant lady who is red in the face. And the chatter at the customer service desk stops--but there is NO REPLY or move to help us! Wow! The only response I get is from the paint guy who looks at me and slowly says "I'll be with you as soon as I can, ma'am." Don't ma'am me! I'm only 29 years old! Fuck you! Give me my goddamn deck stain! AHHHHHHHH!

Well, I didn't say those things at the end, I had reached my limit for confrontation. Instead, I just waited...got my stain...paid for it...went home...and informed my husband that if he valued our marriage at all, I would not ever have to return to Home Depot. And so far, I'm happy to say, I haven't.

Sunday, August 02, 2009

So, just to check in -

Does anyone ever look at this blog, other than Medusa Jones?