Monday, May 31, 2010

Thank you notes...

Some Friday nights, if I stay awake long enough, I watch Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. On Fridays he writes thank you notes to a variety of people. Thank you, Jimmy for providing some desperately needed writing inspiration....

Here are my 6 thank you notes for the week:

Thank you, lady in the bra section of JC Penny. You were so kind to ask me if I needed help... and then when I said, "Just looking for a new bra" you looked at my chest and said, "You looking for a push up bra? You've had some kids, eh? My daughter has that problem too."

(You are wondering what I said in response to that? Well, I said, "no kids, just genetics and too much chocolate".)

Thank you, eBay for making me love you and hate you within a week. I needed a bed in a bag for cheap. I had a bright idea to look on eBay. I found the perfect one, bid on it and won it. It was like winning the raffle... never mind the fact I was the only bidder. FengShi Wong (or whatever her name is) was prompt to send my bedding... straight from a Chinese sweat shop in North Carolina. I love you, eBay and FengShi for making my eBay dreams come true.... But then I got the bidding bug and found a Chi. I bid on it and won (this time I had some competition). After I paid for it, you so kindly sent me an email saying the item was removed (due to some violations) and I needed to contact the resolution department. Say what!? My Chi flat iron is probably laced with some chemical known to the state of California to cause hair cancer. Thanks for letting me know (after I already used the product) that Bridgette Fidal Castro Lopez from Miami, Fl is selling Chi's illegally from Miami (code name for Cuba). It probably isn't even a Chi. Stupid American that I am. eBay, consider this thank you as a way of breaking up our week long relationship. Craigslist, I am back on the market!

Thank you, right-wing-extremists (a.k.a "racists" by some) who are proponents of Arizona Senate Bill 1070 AND opponents of the bill who have relied on the media to teach them about the bill. Both of you make me embarrassed to be an Arizona resident.

Proponents who are extremists-- You scare me. If you put as much passion into solving the global poverty problem as you do fighting illegal immigration, we probably wouldn't have a problem with illegal immigration in the first place.

Opponents of the bill you need to read the dang thing before you tie yourself to the stair railing at the capital building.

I believe strongly in standing up for what you believe and speaking out against things you don't believe in. But jumping on a bandwagon driven by the media alone is not only socially dangerous but doesn't make you look too smart. Once you have read it THEN protest, picket, and chain yourself to tree.

(Just for kicks, see Youtube video below to watch our Attorney General admit his ignorance and you only need to watch the first 60 seconds of it.)

Oh, and if you must know, I have read SB 1070. I am neither against or for the bill itself-- just a plain ol' American who is a proponent of following the laws of the land and that national security is the main responsibility of the Federal Government. Doesn't it seem kind of silly to make illegal what is already illegal? I hope they figure something out!

Back to my thank you notes (that rant was longer than I intended).

Thank you, people in slow moving vehicles (i.e. buses, trucks, and Cadillacs) for pulling out in front of me while I am going full speed ahead on the surface streets and highways. You make my commute full of rage and anger. You especially make my day when you pull out in front of me going 10 mph, then throw your Marlboro cig out the window and it conveniently hits my car.u c

And while we are thanking drivers...

Thank you, people who like to talk on their cell phone while driving. This alone doesn't merit a note of thanks... but when you are on the phone while driving 20 mph UNDER the speed limit, in the fast lane, just talking away, oblivious to all the other people who have places to go, now that deserves a thank you AND a good old fashioned kick in the shins.

Thank you, lady in my ward for putting me on the distribution list for your emergency preparedness committee by accident. I love getting all your FWD: FWD: FWD: FWD: FWD: emails about how the rising price of meat will spur on Armageddon. You know what I appreciate the most, dear sister? That you deny I am on your distribution list! Like the other day, when you reminded me of a mandatory meeting... and I responded saying, "I think you sent this to me in error. I am not on the emergency preparedness committee". You respond back saying, "That email wasn't from me. I don't know what you are talking about." And the time a few months later when I reminded you AGAIN that I am on your distribution list and you said, "You aren't getting those emails from me. You must be getting them from someone else in the ward." HUH?! I would block your emails but I find learning about essential oils for insects absolutely fascinating.

P.S. I am sure that the above thank you note will come back to haunt me one day when you become my Facebook friend and look at this blog. If that happens, I am just going to deny I wrote about you and tell you this blog doesn't exist.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

I am too old for this...

My mother in law gave us a $25 gift card to Hollister-- and we needed to use it before the end of January. So a few days before my 32nd birthday, I decided to go (for the first time ever) to Hollister and buy myself an early birthday present. Yeah, when you want to be reminded of how old and chubby you really are, go into a store specifically for young teenagers.

Before I go into detail about my sojourn into the depths of skinny adolescence, let me just tell you that they didn't have Hollister when I was a teenager. Well, there was one but it was not a clothing store but a small town established in the 1800s. Good ol' Hollister, CA. The high school mascot is a Haybaler- (people who put hay into bales?). Real cool... and the epitome of what the Hollister store isn't...

Back to my story. I walk in and was greeted by a teenage worker folding shirts the size of my pinkie. I walk around and realize that their size large is actually an extra small in old lady size. So I bravely ask, "Do you have anything for females in an extra large?"

She looks at me with a blank stare and thoughtfully says, "Nope... but we sell extra large size in the guy's section."

Great... but I am not into dressing like a teenage boy. That is so 1990's.

I wandered and find some t-shirts... in the girl's clearance section. I frantically search for the largest size. I try it on in the unisex dressing room (awkward) and it took me 1/2 hour to peel it off. I wasn't depressed at all after that incident.

I continued to look and see another stack of clearance shirts-- ones you can tell aren't all that cool because there are 50 of them still left. Oh, and they were right next to the shirts (also clearance) that said, "Santa's Little Helper" written in silver glitter. Not a good sign.

I was so desperate to leave with a Hollister shirt as a last ditch effort to feel young even though I am growing old. Heck, I was willing to pay $10 for one if it fit me.... and it did, kinda.

Now I only have $15 left to spend...

An hour later, inebriated by the mass quantity of teenage cologne bursting through air vents, I concluded there is not a single article of clothing that was going to fit-- even in the teenage boys section.

I was determined to spend the remaining money on something, anything!

I tried the perfume. It reminded me of a 21st century version of the Exclamation scent I wore to 8th grade dances. (Only Exclamation was only $5.99 and this perfume was $50.00).

I tried the lip gloss (and no I didn't put the herpes infested tester on my lips-- I put some on my hand instead). Bleh... If I ever need travel sized colored pomade, I would just by that lip gloss.

The only other thing that I could find was body wash, spray and lotion that smelled like Laguna Beach with a hint of a Strawberry Shortcake doll. So I bought them....

Feeling old, out of place, unfashionable, and fat, I went to the counter to purchase my goods. The clerk said, "Oh I love this lotion! Are you buying this for your daughter?" Okay, that last part really didn't happen but I am sure she was thinking it. I ended up spending 13 extra bucks because I didn't add correctly. My math skills haven't gotten better with age.

Hollister, thanks for reminding me that 32 years old is just 7 years away from being 40!