Dooce

I have been hesitant to tell you about the 13 weeks of insanity we recently experienced at work while a coworker was out on maternity leave. That was until my boss (who reads this blog..Hi Boss!) and I were talking one day about the blog and I told her I'd had requests to blog about our "Temp" experience but wasn't sure if that was a good idea. We talked a little while longer about it and by the end of the conversation she said "It would be really funny and you do protect identities so go ahead, oh and don't forget the part about how she creeped me out every time I walked by." Ummm have I ever told you that my boss rocks? Yeah she does...totally.
So about this Temp....wow. Prior to her going on maternity leave my coworker whom we'll call Mrs. Pickle and I met her the day she came in for fingerprinting and she seemed a little strange but nice, based on the approximately 4 minutes we spent with her. And really since all we needed was someone who would show up every day and be able to answer the phone, she'd be fine.
The plan was that Temp would start a week or so before Mrs. Pickle went out on maternity leave so Mrs. Pickle could train her and show her the ropes, etc. As you may know, babies do what they want and wouldn't you know it, Mrs. Pickle's baby came early foiling the plan. She's such a cute baby we couldn't hold it against her. The following week Temp reported for duty, clueless as to what her responsibilities were and how to do them. Turns out the clueless thing wasn't just first day jitters. So yours truly got to step in and get her acclimated with her systems and duties, which trust me were very minimal. It was about an hour into Day 1 that I realized it was going to be a LONG 13 weeks. Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought that as all throughout our office you could hear the ding of Instant messenger saying things like "is this lady for real?" or "where did they find her?" or "did you hear that?". Oh just kidding about that Instant Messenger in our workplace is STRICTLY use for business purposes only. Since I'm becoming quite the experienced bloggist I knew that first day that this was going to make blog material some day so I started a list at my desk. But by the end of the 2nd day it became quite clear that since I already had a full time job I gave up on the list. Oh but the memories remain.
First let me start by showing you a picture of the Temp......
　
Seriously, the only difference is Temp wore glasses and didn't wear a cape. From here on out we shall call Temp, Grandpa Munster. No disrespect obviously it's just an observation.
So here are a few items as they were written on the notepad in my office from her first several days of employment:
"Bowing"-On her first day, she was having issues getting logged on to her computer. Her boss came out of his office and took the CAPS Lock off and viola! she was able to log in. That happens to the best of us sometimes, no big deal. But then when he went back into his office and she logged on, she walked to his office door and BOWED to him saying "Thank you thank you kind sir." I don't know about your workplace but bowing isn't a typical way to show appreciation where I work, you know given that we aren't located in, oh I don't know, China or something.

"Man Among Men"-She was having trouble operating the fax machine one afternoon when the Technology guy happened to be nearby and helped her out. She said loud enough for the whole office to hear "Jim, you are a MAN AMONG MEN." I think a simple thank you would've sufficed given the look on Jim's face.

"Pink"-This may come as a surprise to you but I have a fair amount of pink in my office. I know shocking right? So she walks in, looks around and says, "You like pink." I nodded my head and politely said, "Yes, yes I do." And then she said, "And do you know how I know you like pink? Because you have that pink thing and that pink thing and that pink thing (as she points out various objects in my office)....." Wow, thank you Mrs. Obvious, that was very observant of you. But really I like purple I was just trying to throw you off with the pink thing.

"Hooah"-The same day as the "Pink" visit she walked in again later and noticed a picture of GI Joe and I from the military banquet and said, "OHHHHH...your husband is in the military?"
"Yes, yes he is," I replied thinking to myself (what gave it away the haircut or the uniform?). She asked what branch and what he did, etc. I told her and then she said, "Give him a big HOOAH for me!" I looked at her, slightly puzzled and said, "Ummm I think that's a Marine thing, he's Army." And I'll be darned if she didn't stand there and give me a 7 minute argument about how the term Hooah was universal to all branches of service and EVEN SPELLED IT OUT FOR ME ON A SHEET OF PAPER. I asked her if she'd ever been in the military and she said, "No, I worked with the Red Cross but we worked very closely with the the military men." Wait a minute...the Red Cross? Oh yeah I remember how the Red Cross "works" with the military (see here: http://hillbillyhilarity.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-cross-we-have-emergency.html), No wonder we weren't headed for a life long friendship. So here was Miss I Worked for the Red Cross trying to tell Mrs. Army Wife of 12 years what's what in the military. You'd be proud because I exercised great self control and let her continue "hooah'ing" right on out of my office and for the rest of the day every time I walked past her desk. Then I picked up the phone and called GI Joe who confirmed what I knew all along, that it's a Marine thing and that Army really doesn't love the whole Hooah thing.

Aloha-Her main purpose for the 13 weeks was to answer the phone for a gentleman in our office, Mr. Pill, who is kind of a big deal within the company and has even bigger deals calling him constantly. That was her MAIN responsibility people...answering the phone, everything else had been delegated out or put on hold til Mrs. Pickle returned. Shortly after she started Mr. Pill went on a long vacation to Hawaii. (Coincidence? I think not!) I wish I were kidding when I tell you that pretty much every time she answered his phone during that two weeks, this is the greeting she used, "ALOHA!! Mr. Pill's office!" I can only imagine what the big wigs on the other end of that line were thinking, probably thinking they could really use a fruity drink w/ an umbrella in it right about then.

That is just a sampling from my notepad but there are other examples of the craziness. Let me tell you, Mrs. Pickle received numerous texts throughout her maternity leave that said things like "Are you sure you need 13 weeks? Just bring baby in, we'll set up a playpen." or "We miss you, we REALLY, REALLY miss you." She was amused and felt sorry for us but still insisted on taking her full 13 weeks...whatever Mrs Pickle. :)

Remember how my boss reminded me to tell how she got creeped out every time she walked by Grandpa Munster's desk? Let me tell you about that. There are 2 doors into our area, one right behind my office that goes out into a hallway, and one that requires you walk the length of the department, past some desks and the Munster Mansion to get out. By the door farthest from my boss and I (the one that you have to walk by Grandpa Munster) is our coffee bar. Every time my boss, Sharon, would make the trek to the Coffee Bar, Grandpa Munster who would be sitting at her computer with her back to where Sharon was walking, would spin around in her chair, and just stare at Sharon as she walked by. EVERY. TIME. If you ever meet my boss ask her to demonstrate this to you. She's demonstrated numerous times to Mrs. Pickle since she's returned along with telling her, "Don't do this to me (demonstrates chair spinning) or I'll have to fire you!" It got to the point where Sharon was so creeped out by Grandpa Munster's chair spinning/stalking that she began taking the outside hallway route just to avoid walking past her office.

If you read the Monkey Madness post (http://hillbillyhilarity.blogspot.com/2009/05/monkey-business.html) then you know that we go all out for birthdays at work. One guy in our area, Jeb, who we have nicknamed the Chicken Farmer, celebrated a birthday. Because we are 10, we decorated his entire desk and space with chickens and plastic eggs hanging from the ceiling. Grandpa Munster was oblivious as to why we had chosen that decor for Jeb but that didn't stop her from saying things like, "This SHELL be a day he'll never forget" or "Have an EGGCELLENT day." Seriously.

One day Mrs. Pickle and her husband who also works with us, brought Baby Pickle in. Grandpa Munster acted as if she'd known the Pickle family forever and talked about the baby as if she'd endured the previous 9 months of Mrs. PIckle's pregnancy with the rest of us. Odd. As we oohed and ahhed over the baby I noticed Grandpa taking all kinds of pictures. I thought perhaps Mrs. Pickle had given her the job of photographing Baby Pickle's first visit to work. Imagine how baffled I was when a few days later a 4 x6 glossy print of me holding Baby Pickle appeared on my desk. I called Mr. Pickle and thanked him for the picture to which he responded, "Uh that wasn't from me, I think Grandpa Munster did that, I got one too." That was borderline Hand that Rocks the Cradle. I bet she's got a framed picture of Baby Pickle proudly displayed in the castle somewhere.

Back to Grandpa Munster's stellar phone skills. Given that answering Mr. Pill's phone was her main priority and really the reason for her existence at our workplace she took it very seriously (and loudly). One day Mr. Pill had gone to lunch with a vendor when his boss called. Instead of just taking a message or advising him to try Mr. Pill on his cell phone Grandpa said, "Hold on one second, I know he'll want to speak to you, let me just call the restaurant where he went to lunch," and promptly put Mr. Important on hold. I could NOT believe my ears when she dialed the restaurant and said, "Yes, I'm looking for my boss who I believe is dining there, his name is Mr. Pill. Oh no one's there right now? Hmmmm...wonder where he snuck off to then?" Just about then Mr. HIll walked in the door and took the call, oblivious to the fact that the restaurant he'd just left had been questioned about his whereabouts. Speaking of tracking Mr. Pill down she stopped at nothing (besides calling his cell phone which apparently was foreign to her) to find him. One day Mr. Important called and wanted to speak with Mr. Pill right away. Grandpa Munster started traversing the entire building looking for him. She caught McDreamy coming out of the men's bathroom and asked him to go back in and see if Mr. Pill was in there and if he was to please send him out because he had a call from Mr. Important. I can only imagine the look on McDreamy's face, I'm sure it was less than dreamy, and his response. Needless to say, McDreamy did not locate Mr. Pill for her.

I've barely scratched the surface of the insanity we experienced for a 13 weeks but I think you get the picture...Grandpa was C-R-A-Z-Y. On her final day of employment she came into my office to thank me for all of my help (I really was nice to her, well except for writing this entire post about her, but I'm calling that therapy), and as she left she said, "Goodbye Pink Princess, goodbye," and then BOWED. I have no words.

I'm not a real touchy feely type person especially in the work place but don't think I didn't do cartwheels all the way down to Mrs. Pickle's office and give her a big ol' hug on her first day back, cuz I did and I'm not ashamed to admit it. You would've too if you'd just survived the longest 13 weeks known to man. We even had a treat day to celebrate. I think it made Mrs. Pickle feel good that she was so missed. We told her we were totally fine with her bawling at her desk all day from having to leave her baby and that she was free to yell at us and be mean if she wanted, as long as she didn't start bowing and saying Aloha.

To Mrs. Pickle-Welcome back and please, we beg of you, don't ever leave us again!!!

To Grandpa Munster-Thanks for the blog material and best of luck in your next gig. Universal Studios may have some openings for a Grandpa Munster stand in. Hooah!

To the Monkeys In Support Group-We made it and we lived to blog about it. Now we'll have to find alternate entertainment such as baking cakes in the microwave and celebrating made up holidays like Jeffukah.

Aloha!!!

Exclusive Press Release & Recipe

AP: Usually I’m pretty good at staying humble (ahahaha get it? Sorry couldn’t help myself), but I just HAVE to tell you of my most recent and perhaps, proudest accomplishment.
Ahem ahem…It is with great excitement that I announce to you that I am now officially an AWARD WINNING chef! I know, I know it’s breaking news, remember you heard it here first. It’s something I’ve worked towards all my life and finally my ambitions were realized on Wednesday when I was crowned 1st Place Blue Ribbon winner in the Appetizer category in the 2009 ____________Fair Cook Off. I can’t release the name of the company sponsoring the fair, as it may or may not be the one I work for and I don’t want to be like that dooce (http://www.dooce.com/) girl and get fired for blogging about work. Before you go all negative on me like my beloved middle sister Debbie Downer aka Heidi did, saying things like, “you’re insane” or “oh big deal it was just a work thing it wasn’t a REAL fair” or “you’re only a chef if you have a degree in culinary arts”, I think you should know there were other entries in the Appetizer category, like 10 of them to be exact, and my entry was in fact delicious. Not to brag of course. Just stating the facts as evidenced by the Blue Ribbon I now have hanging in my kitchen. It’s been quite the media frenzy since the awards ceremony, what with the interviews, recipe requests, press inquiries and guest appearances and all. Imagine my family’s excitement when I went home last night and informed them (repeatedly) that they had an award winning chef preparing their supper for them. They were so proud and clamored for a view to watch a master at work…..or not.
Because you’ve been with me from the beginning I’m going to provide you with the award winning recipe before the rest of the world gets its hands on it and before I publish it in the Prairie Princess cookbook.

Bootylicious Buffalo Chicken Dip (based loosely on the recipe found at allrecipes.com)
20 oz. boneless, skinless, chicken breasts or tenders or in a pinch 2 (10 oz.) cans chunk chicken 2 (8 oz) packages cream cheese, softened
1 c. Ranch or Blue Cheese dressing (Ranch is what was in the award winning one)
1 c. Frank’s hot sauce (more or less to taste, some like it hot)
1 ½ c. shredded Sharp cheddar cheese
Celery & Chicken in a Biskit or other crackers for serving
Fill saucepan with water, a pinch seasoning salt and a pinch of garlic powder, and chicken breasts. Boil until chicken is done. Drain, allow to cool, and then shred with forks. After shredded, return to pan and add in hot sauce. (You can substitute canned chicken instead but I’m not guaranteeing it will be [‘s bootylicious.) Heat over medium heat until heated through. Stir in cream cheese and ranch dressing. Cook, stirring until well blended and warm. Mix in half of the cheddar cheese. **Very important step: You must now sample it to make sure it’s got enough buffalo kick, add more hot sauce as needed. Transfer to a crockpot. Sprinkle the remaining cheese over the top, cover, and cook on Low until hot and bubbly. Serve with celery sticks and crackers.


Now I'm off to do stuff that award winning chefs do, like load the dishwasher, fold some laundry, and eat a fudgesicle. I had envisioned it being slightly more glamorous.

Sweet Corn Stardom

Do you know what Saturday was? It was the epitome of summer in small town Iowa...Sweet Corn Festival. It's held in a town neighboring ours and it's our tradition to go every year, watch the parade, then sit on the curb around the square and gorge ourselves on FREE locally grown, Iowa sweet corn. It's a grand time. For those of you not from these parts and that may have never experienced farm grown Iowa sweet corn, I'm sorry. Please add that to your bucket list immediately. You'll thank me.

Saturday was the big day or as GI Joe's brofriend John, (http://hillbillyhilarity.blogspot.com/2009/03/ode-to-bromance.html) calls it..."his favorite holiday." This is no small affair people. SEVEN TONS of sweet corn are shucked by volunteers the night before who work strictly for the free beer (nothing motivates like beer right?), and then the following day people line up for blocks to get their share starting at 11am, when the corn starts rolling off the trucks on conveyor belts, run thru boiling water and then served up hot and fresh to the hungry crowd. But before I tell you about that, I have to tell you about the parade.

If you've ever been to a small town parade you know that anyone representing anything can be in it, you don't even have to have an actual float. There's no registration process, you just show up at the start place, line up, and go. As long as you are throwing candy you'll be waved at and accepted by the people. In the Sweet Corn parade there were people on horseback, a few actual, honest to goodness floats, people on lawn tractors and four wheelers, and then the really boring ones like our church's who just had GI Joe and John in the church van throwing out candy. Next year we're going to kick things up a notch. For starters, I think there's going to be a Koons Zoo/Hillbilly Hilarity float. Picture with me if you will, a float all decked out in pink (obviously) with me sitting on a hay bale in the center wearing a tiara (duh), surrounded by emus, a peacock and some pigs perhaps, with the kids riding behind the float on horseback. And then my Marketing team (yes, I have a Marketing team you know who you are) will be wearing pink shirts that say "Hooked on Hillbilly Hilarity" (thanks Trisha for the catchy slogan, you know I'm a sucker for alliteration) and handing out something unforgettable with my blog URL on it. What do you think? Too over the top for just this teeny, tiny, little, old blog? Definitely, but that's what makes it awesome. New readers would be nice, the more the merrier, but it's not like I'm going to quit my day job to become a professional blogger, so the real reason for such marketing tactics is pure and simple...more blog material!!! Can you imagine the blog post about the blog float? It's shaping up to be my most anticipated holiday of 2010.

Speaking of new floats, while GI Joe and John were working the parade route from the church van, they came up with an idea for the church float for next year's parade that would certainly catch people's attention. They are going to put up a sign on the van that says "Go HERE (arrow towards the church name on the van) or GO HERE (arrow pointing to the float being pulled behind). And on the float would be Hell. Yes that's right..hell. They envision all kinds of pyrotechnics, a devil poking at people with a pitchfork, people crying and screaming, you know real warm fuzzy stuff. Then as if that wouldn't be a prize winner alone, they would hand out Codemnmints (get it?) and instead of the Mardi Gra beads that are typical parade fare, they would throw out pendants...REPENDANTS. (Insert eye roll here.) This is what happens when they are given sugar, corn, and too much time together in one day. And to think they are deacons at our church. Help us all.

After the enjoyable, yet mundane parade (at least for one more year), we beat the crowd and got our sweet corn right away. We buttered, salted, and found a shaded courtyard tucked away from the rest of the madness. When you get your corn you tell them how many ears you want and they give it to you, barely batting an eye if you happen to say 4 or 5 or 9. Yes, 9. And this my friends, is why John calls it his favorite holiday and takes the Monday after off to recover.

In his prime, John put away 14 ears of Sweet Corn fest sweet corn in one sitting. This year either due to his advancing age or the amount of candy he and GI Joe consumed while IN the parade, he maxed out at 9 ears. Better luck next year John. Maybe you should train a little harder next year or maybe dodging the rocks and tomatoes people will be throwing at you while pulling the Hell Float will cause you to work up more of an appetite so you can get back up to your peak performance. You're a legend round these parts.

And to those of you think of Iowa as nothing but hillbillies and corn, I don't think I'm in any position to disagree.

Baseball, Black Eye, & the Bathroom

This weekend I rediscovered my disinterest in baseball. I scored free tickets to the Iowa Cubs game on Friday night so GI Joe and I coerced our friends, Jerry, Annette, Doug, and McDreamy to go with us. I strictly go to baseball games for the hot dogs and I got my hot dog, Chicago style, and it was magnificent. Wish I could say the same for the game. It was dreadfully boring and the fact that the stadium was really full and we actually had to sit in our crowded row of seats which inhibited our normal tomfoolery, picture taking, and conversation didn't help matters. I would've thought with our celebrity status and such that we would've had a press box or something. But NOOOO, we had to sit in box seats with everyone else. It totally cramped our style. (Sidenote: apparently being a blogger with 5 followers doesn't make one a celebrity, I thought that's how I got the tickets?!? Whatever.) We bailed after the 7th inning. Of course, as in everything there were a few highlights. They were as follows:

*My wonderful Chicago style hot dog. Oh did I mention that already? It was THAT good.

*When I told everyone that maybe we could go out on the field and take some pictures during halftime. Apparently, baseball doesn't have halftime. Whatever. They need to, a little half time show would've done the game good, maybe add some excitement..heaven forbid.

*When we yelled "fore!" for a foul ball headed our way and "Touchdown!" for a hit and the looks we received from doing so. C'mon someone had to liven up that joint. The soundbooth sure wasn't doing it with their elevator music. Ever heard of Jock Jams people? Let me burn you a copy.

*When Jerry gave me a black eye because I remained sitting when a foul ball came our way and he got a little excited and started throwing elbows everywhere, namely towards my eye. He nearly broke my sunglasses and we all know how low on sunglasses I'm running these days. (http://hillbillyhilarity.blogspot.com/2009/08/at-drive-thru.html) From then on, everytime there was a foul ball I got in tornado position, arms protecting my head. By the way, he didn't get the ball but he did give me a concussion. Thanks Jer.

*When our friend Jeremy (http://hillbillyhilarity.blogspot.com/2009/01/blast-from-past.html) snuck away from his wife (Hi Signe!) and friends to come chat with us for an inning or so. I did introductions that went a little something like, "This is Annette, you probably know her from the blog." and "This is Jeremy, our high school friend, he and his wife were featured in the blog once." Thanks blog for making introductions easy.

*When Annette and I got excited because the announcers kept talking about "Gucci". Unfortunately, they weren't shooting Gucci product out of the hot dog gun but instead were talking about some I Cubs player named Taguchi. Why must they tease us like that?

*When I was scoping out women for McDreamy in the ladies bathroom. Do you see a problem with that? I don't. I was in the bathroom before the game and this cute girl (within the appropriate age range for McDreamy) in a Hawkeye hat (as an alumni he LOVES his Hawkeyes) was washing her hands (good personal hygiene...yes!) and was NOT wearing a wedding ring (great! she's available). But here was my dilemma. How do I approach a girl in the bathroom alone for my single male friends without a) looking like a freak b) looking like a freak? Hmmm. Haven't figured this one out. Suggestions welcome. Maybe Annette & I could hang out in the bathroom and hand out paper towels and lotion like they do in fancy restaurants and hotels, and as they reached for a paper towel, we'd check their left hand for a ring, and if it was bare we'd hand them a paper towel with Doug & McDreamy's picture on it and a questionnaire on it. If interested they'll be instructed to call us. And by us, I mean Annette and I. You didn't think we'd really let our friends go out with just anybody did you? We'd have to screen them first obviously. Hard to believe their both single with friends like us. Weird huh? To the Hawkeye Hat Girl from the Bathroom-If you're reading this, and I'm sure you are, call me. I have someone I want you to meet. Judging by the way you washed your hands and looked at yourself in the mirror, I think the two of you would really hit it off. He washes his hands too! What are the odds?!? It's a match made in heaven.(McDreamy-Are you happy now that you got some blog exposure? And again my apologies for failing you as wingwoman. That could've been the future Mrs. McDreamy and yet I just let her dry her hands and walk away. I'll do better next time, there are more bathrooms out there.)

Here's a picture from the evening.

I didn't say it was us. But it was taken at the I Cubs game and looks like they're having fun so you get the idea. Anyone know these people? I see some potential Doug/McDreamy matches. Call me.

Poolside Psychology

Being the cool mom that I am, I recently set aside my dignity and pride for the day and took my kids to the public aquatic center. Actually, besides the fact that it requires wearing a bathing suit in front of the general public, I love going to the aquatic center. I love the lazy river, the slides and the fact that I can relax on my chair and listen to the 90’s music piped through the speakers while my kids are in eyesight in a pool that’s just the right depth for them. Perfection. An added bonus of the public pool (besides the REO Speedwagon they played), is the study that can be done on the human psyche while soaking up the rays.

Here are a few things I gleaned about the human race from our afternoon at the pool:

*If you want to see the future models and heartthrobs of America , go to the pool and check out the lifeguards. Be discreet though you don’t want them to think you’re a pedophile. They make young moms like myself, still clinging to our youth feel frumpy and old, thanks aquatic center we needed that.

*Many 10-12 year old boys are punks. I was waiting with Ryder in line for one of the slides and there were 2 tween boys in front of us. Another kid walked by and the 2 boys in front of us started ridiculing him and picking a fight with him. The line moved up but they were too busy being mean to the kid passing by to notice so being the softspoken, shy, demure person that I am gently said to them, “So are you going to move up or are you going to fight with that poor kid all day?” I may have given them the “you’re pushing the limits and you don’t want to mess with me because I wrestle goats” look because they looked terrified and immediately moved up and left the kid alone, either that or I just look THAT bad in my bathing suit. I thought about making them run laps as punishment but figured since they weren’t my kids I should probably just leave it alone. Trust me, a few laps would’ve done them some good. Also, I’m pretty sure I made the victim’s day as he walked away with a big ol’ grin on his face. I don’t like punks. Of course my perfect little angels, Blade and Ryder will NEVER act like that..right? RIGHT? Right.

*A fun game to play when at a public pool is “who’s had work done?”, especially in the affluent neighborhood where this particular aquatic center is located. At every pool there are several types of ladies: 1) the ones that have kids but are desperately trying to look like they haven’t and are going to extreme measures such as implants, tummy tucks, etc to do so. These stick out like a sore thumb and can typically be found not moving from their chaise lounger and certainly not getting wet. 2) The teenage girls who flit around in their teeny tiny bikinis thinking to themselves “I’ll never look like those women, even if I have kids and am old, like 30, I’ll still look like this.” Ahahahahahahaha….dream on girls, dream on. P.S. Here’s a towel, cover yourself up. 3) The women with serious body image issues. These women are distinguished by the full on armor they wear OVER their swimsuit IN THE POOL to include but not limited to sweatpants and turtlenecks. Seriously ladies you’re not fooling anybody. And as long as you’re not trying to squeeze into a size 2 bikini no one’s going to judge you so really just wear your swimsuit minus the sweatsuit. Your tan lines won’t be as weird that way. 4) Then there are the ones like myself that are simply just there to catch some rays and have fun with their kids. They aren’t concerned with winning the hearts of the handsome, albeit 18 year old lifeguards. We realize we won’t be gracing the cover of the Swimsuit issue anytime soon but realistically those bikinis are not good for chasing your kids around and going down slides in anyway. Stuff falls out and nobody needs to see that.

*Speaking of stuff falling out let me tell you about a little memory from the pool that I’ve been working to repress but since I have no self respect or dignity left, I’ll just tell you. The slides at the aquatic center we frequent are awesome. After watching the kids go down them about 300 times I decided it was my turn. They tried to convince me to go down the one that goes straight down but I KNOW what happens to tankinis on those kind of slides so I decided to play it safe and go down the twisty one. It seemed tame enough. I had butterflies in my stomach as I climbed the stairs and waited for the 16 year old lifeguard to give me the “nod” to go down. (It’s a very important job the top of the slide lifeguards have you know, watching people go down and giving the nod.) Finally, I got the nod and away I went. Turns out the heavier you are the faster you go down, so I was sliding at the speed of light, screaming like a little girl because I was sure I was going to go right up over the edge of the slide and land on the concrete below. My life flashed before my eyes and I started thinking things like “GI Joe had better wait at least 2 years before he remarries and whoever she is had better not be mean to my babies” and “what happens to your facebook status when you die? Does someone go in and update it to say “Holly is deceased?” and also “crap, the house isn’t clean enough for all those people to bring casseroles over after the funeral”. Obviously, I was too busy planning my funeral, to properly prepare for the dismount from the slide into the pool at the end. Ideally, you gracefully shoot off of the slide into the water, land on your feet, and don’t even get your head wet. As if. Oh no, not me, I've never been accused of being graceful. Instead I twisted, thrashed,flipped and flopped off the slide like a beached seal into the pool. Sadly, my modest boyshort tankini bottoms couldn’t keep up. I take that back, they kept up, way UP, if you know what I’m saying and I went face first into the water so the world got an eyeful of boyshorts gone thong, I mean wrong. Help us all. Imagine my humiliation when I surfaced, sputtering water, and between the straggly wet hair hanging in my face* saw, the young Brad Pitt lookalike lifeguard standing right in front of me. (**Sidenote: why is it that those swimsuit models come out of the water with their hair out of their face, flowing smoothly down their back and when I come out of the water my hair is all over the place looking like it just rained on a hay bale? I deep condition too!! I don’t get it.) Young Brad Pitt handed me my sunglasses (yes, THOSE sunglasses,I thought I’d be cool and wear down the slide because again, it was bright out and I was going to gracefully enter the pool from the slide and not even get my head wet so it would be totally fine…uh huh sure) and said “I think these are yours,” all while avoiding eye contact. Who could blame him? The poor kid was traumatized. I thought I was going to have to avoid the slide area for the rest of the day for fear of facing him again, but oddly enough he disappeared shortly after that, never to be seen again. He probably had to take a mental health day. I wonder if pools offer workman’s comp for such things as vision loss, emotional scarring, etc? They should, they really should. Maybe the sweatpants over the swimsuit isn’t such a bad idea after all. You be the judge. Here's the post water slide picture.




I blame the Reese's.

Dental Health Poster Child

Brush much?

Meet Joe. Joe knows plaque.

This has been a public service announcement, now feel free to go brush your teeth and throw in a little floss just for kicks.

At the Drive Thru

Scene: A sunny, bright day at the Taco John's drive thru

Characters: A blonde wearing wonky sunglasses because she broke them when she pulled them out of her purse but it was so bright out and she wanted to protect her eyes since they are her window to the world, that she wore them anyway, and who loves her some Tex Mex. Mmmm mmm good. Oh wait wrong franchise, my bad Campbell's. (My apologies for that ridiculous run on sentence, I just had a lot to say.)

For the sake of the story, we'll "pretend' that the above character is yours truly. Work with me here.

I ordered my food and pulled around to the window. Keep in mind the PMobile is rather giant and I'm rather inept at making sharp turns or fitting into narrow spaces with it. The Taco John's drive thru required both of the above. I pulled around at a rather cockeyed angle and stretched the approximate 10 feet from my car window to the cashier at the window to pay. The cashier was kind of looking at me strangely but I just chalked it up to my stellar driving/parking skills. I paid with exact change and then put my wait time to good use. I'm nothing if not a multi-tasker. I was very busy doing important things like responding to a message on facebook, applying lip gloss, reading the back cover of a book, addressing an envelope, etc. After awhile, I happened to look up and caught a glimpse of myself in the rear view mirror and noticed my crazy sunglasses. I came to the realization that they were probably the reason for the strange looks from the cashier.

Then the thought crossed my mind, "Wow, wonder what's taking my food so long, I'm starving." As I looked up to adjust my sunglasses again since they wouldn't stay on straight (hmm wonder why?), I happened to notice the Taco John's employee at the next window sticking his head out, obviously looking for the customer who had gotten lost between the Pay Window and the Pick Up window. And that's when it hit me...."Oh my goodness, I FORGOT to pull up!!! I'm still at the Pay Window. Duh!!!!" By this time at least 5 minutes had gone by since I had paid. I considered peeling out and speeding past the window so as not to have to face the TJ employee who just witnessed me having a big, bad, blonde moment OR did I sacrifice my dignity, face my embarrassment, and most importantly get my food? I think we all know what I did right? I'm a growing (in waist size) girl who happens to be cheap and since I'd already paid there was no way I was leaving without my food. I pulled up, giggling, and told the kid, "I'm so sorry I was just having a blonde moment. Tee hee hee." To which he laughed and said, "That's ok I just didn't know what you were doing, I hope your food isn't cold." Always one to offer constructive criticism I told him, "You know the girl at the Pay Window really should've said something to me. Why would she just let me sit there? I mean really." He just looked at me, handed me my food, and turned around. I'm pretty sure he was going to find his manager immediately to implement my suggestion into the Taco John's drive thru window training manual. Either that or he couldn't take one more second of looking at me in my crooked, wacky glasses because yes, I still had them on. Hey it was really bright out! And at this point, I had no self respect left so why not just leave them on? And then take a horrible picture of me wearing them 2 days later solely for the purpose of this blog? I have no shame.


Dear Taco John's-I hope a lesson has been learned here and that appropriate changes will be made so that no other persons have to suffer the same mortification and cold food that I did. I'll be back to do a secret shopper type investigation. I'll notify you of the results. If this improper customer treatment continues I may have to drive the extra few miles to Taco Bell. They have a whole lotta Mexican going on too, just not as many drive thru windows. Also, you're welcome for the Break Room entertainment I provided, I do what I can. And yes, I am a natural blonde.