Monday, August 24, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
My husband and I are like from two different planets.
My world of fairy tales and unicorns with barbie dolls mixed in.
And his planet of G.I. Joe's and heavy laden tanks with a dallop of all things computer.
We aren't alike in any way. (Um, obviously...boys have penis's es and girls have vagina's....what movie was that?)
When he looks at a computer he visualizes it's insides and how every screw, wire and whatever else computer geeky has it's purpose.
Me? I wonder what blogs I'm going to visit.
He tried once to bring me into his world. I really did try.
We had just moved in with each other and he always took care of all things mechanical. That day he decided to take me to my car to 'educate' me. (Buwhahahahaha). We opened the hood and I could see his mind just whirling away with how the car engine operated.
Me. I wondered how long this would take.
He proceeded to point out things to have me and it's function. My girlie brain tried so hard to focus and when asked to repeat the whole "the leg bone is connected to the..." but insert engine parts I would be connecting the washer fluid to the radiator?? Wait, is it connected to the radiator?? Eh...see!
Poor guy. He tried.
And when he crosses over into my world a bit, it's a tad humorous.
He went to the store for me. I had to be real specific for him because he does not know how to deviate from the list if I am too vague.
We were making a pasta dinner and had our mind set on that. When I opened my box of noodles out came some nasty bugs...yuck..gag...yuck...gag.
He offered to get some new noodles and I mentioned I wanted a certain kind, and wasn't exactly sure of the name. But he knew what they looked like.
He had come home with a tale of complete man breakdown while deciding between two different noodles. Standing there. Sweating it out a little bit. Panicky. Over noodles.
I buwhahahahaha'd with him. Silly man.
But...I digress a little.
I had for some lame reason dumped my bugged out noodles that had semi cooked into the garbage disposal. Apparently the noodles that didn't get properly cut up expanded more while 'trying' to go through the U-shaped pipe and caused a major malfunction.
I clogged the sink.
Me and the kid sat there while dinner was cooking. He unclogged, noodles disbanded all over the kitchen floor with me murmuring that I would clean it. (ahem...the shame of being completely ignorant of throwing things down the drain that would fare better in the trash can). Him, anazlying and doing whatever he does well. Thank God he was there.
Cause I would have just kept standing there looking at my clogged sink hitting the switch for the garbage disposal.
*Happy and content Sigh*...our two planets. They keep revolving around each other. Both co-existing in the same universe. Our kid being our sun and moon.
It would be empty without him around.
(as much as I hem and haw about him being around...giggle).
Friday, August 14, 2009
Some of you all know that I've had my run in's with my neighborhood stray ninja cats.
Well....I got paid a visit the other night after work.
My family and I live in a townhouse. We occupy the upstairs unit.
So imagine stairs to my front door.
Imagine me coming home after midnight.
Imagine it being dark. Really dark. (For theatrics sake)
Imagine me flipping the outside light on from the BOTTOM of my stairs so I can see the keyhole when I get to the top.
Imagine my surprise when I flipped the light on...I find a cat digging around in the garbage bag my husband left outside the front door to take out 'later in the morning on his way out'.
It was a black cat.
I had taken two steps upward in the same motion of flipping the light on and startled the beegeesus out of the cat and as it hissed and felt cornered it jumped on top of the railing by my front door and we had a stare down.
I took many steps back....cause I'm the biggest chicken sh*t in the world...especially when tired and cranky after a long hard strenuous work day (yes....the violins are playing for my whine and cheese story).
I silently curse my husband for leaving the trash out. I wonder if I'll have to go back to my car because if you read the other ninja cat story you'll understand my hesitation to proceed.
I'm sweating. And panicking.
So is the cat.
And then it freaking jumps off the railing to the tree away from where I am. But the leaping thing made me think it was leaping in mid air to attack me.
So I sorta threw my purse down, and covered my face and head and squealed in mock pain like it had hit me.
Then the tiny little rational person inside me, who had tried explaining that I outweighed the furball by a trillion pounds and that I was the person, IT was the animal....and that along the food chain of things I ranked superior, heard tree branches and scrambling of 4 tiny disgusting vile feet make it's way beyond me.
So it's past midnight. My purse is on the ground by the slugs because I didn't pay much attention when I frigged out. My nerves were beyond shot. And I need to go to my front door but the paranoia plays mean mind games on me thinking the cat was still in the tree right by my front door and would lunge for my face and rip out my eyeballs.
So I did what any completely silly person would do. I ran up my steps with my slugged slimed-ed purse to my face and opened up 2 doors, (since when the hell did my husband close both doors? I close the second door when I get in...), 4 locks with trembling hands and escaped what I'm sure was a near death experience.
And I'm sure that if ANY of my neighbors (or husband) had been up at the late late hour I would have looked/felt/seemed more pathetic than I was.
Some days it sucks to be me.
I hate cats.
The stray kind.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
I've been in management for over 10 years and I have to say...
I've interviewed some really interesting characters.
Before an interview I usually like to designate someone to 'watch me'. Just in case I don't know how to politely end the interview. I don't care what they say just please come by and say it's the effing President on the phone and I have to end the interview.
Below are some of the people I get to interview at least once a month...
(The OTITI..I know what it sounds like)
(My pet peeve. To me, it's like going there without a shirt on...always be prepared. Bring a pen. You should only have to ask me for an application.)
The OTITI immediately takes over the conversation in an instant.
She/He speaks quickly and without breathing. While you stand there and attempt many inserts of your own questions, they rattle on. Oblivious to the fact the manager has not been able to ask one question except to say..."Hi, my name is Boss Rambl..."
My mind wanders a bit in between attempts. "How many pots of coffee has she had" "Will she shut up so I can ask a question" "Too bad, she looked normal"
My Designator was busy 'flirting' with a pretty gal who'd just come to his bar. (Damn him, must remember to pick more reliable Designator)
This is a kid that usually sits on their behind at home. Just graduated from high school, maybe. Completely unmotivated. Their mother just wants them to get OUT OF THE HOUSE. (I don't blame her).
This makes for a most awkward interview because of their one word answers to all your questions.
Or blank looks because they can't believe they had to dress up with a nice shirt and tie and sit at a table with an "old" lady and answer questions.
For me, this is an easy interview to end quickly.
Don't call me, I'll call you kind of thing.
This person from the moment you shake hands looks over, around and below you. I find myself secretly brushing past my mouth, nose and eyes blindly searching for remnants of food, buggers and or crap attached to my face in an unattractive way. Or checking to see if my bra strap is showing or toilet paper is stuck on my shoe. All at the same time. Because shifty eyes makes me nervous.
I ask my questions. I get answers but with very little to no eye contact. Again, I wonder if the spinach I ate days ago is somehow lodged still between my two front teeth. Very distracting for a person like me doing an interview.
And usually after the interview...I go to a mirror to check myself out.
Gotta catch another thing...Person
"Dude...you the manager?"
"Yes?" (Oh God)
"So, do you have to work hard here?"
"Um..." (Oh Lord. Really?)
"Cause I need money...but I don't enjoy working. Dude."
"Erm...I'm not hiring right now" (As I hide the Now Hiring sign)
So words of advice from Boss Rambler here.
Bring a pen, shake hands firmly but not WWF-ly, make good eye contact, and let the interview be a two way conversation.
Monday, August 10, 2009
A little happy jam to start our morning. Heard this on It's Sherendipity blog. Don't need to watch the video...just hear the music as you read on.
It was the kids' 3rd birthday Sunday.
Hots Dogs, Teriyaki Burgers, Bubbles and Bouncy House.
We had a blast.
Lil Rambler had the best day.
Small confession. I can't sing Happy Birthday to HER without choking up inside. I am in awe of her, and just being a mother to her, and loving someone as much as her that it literally knocks the breathe out of me when everyone is singing around her while she glows. She makes a mommy proud.
On to hot dogs and the never ending asking of this question.
WHY in the world do hot dogs come in packs of 8 and the buns come in packs of 10?
I promised Mo "Mad Dog" Stoneskin a cold one while he started his Monday trekking through blog land. Hoping he stops by for his beer. Wasting beer is bad isn't it? :)
He's a great writer and has American Moms going gaga for him.
Another moment brought to you from my job.
This person ate all their food. They then told the server it needed to be taken off the bill because they refuse to pay for it. Server was nervous and asked me to speak to the table.
Of course. That is why I wear the manager badge. So that I can get my ass chewed out on a daily basis for ridiculous reasons.
I politely, professionally and firmly explained because most (98%) of the meal was eaten I could do nothing. The person thought I was the most ridiculous person on the planet.
People. Its like eating all your Big Mac and taking the empty wrapper back to the cashier and saying you didn't like it and want your $1.50 back. Crazy right?
*shaking head* I'm getting too old for this sh*t!
btw...I did not budge. He paid for the meal he ate.
I have started potty training. It's tricky. Well actually my daughter is tricky.
Have a great week everyone!!
Thursday, August 06, 2009
You movie stars had some great answers to last weeks..."If your life were made into a movie what would it be called and who would star as YOU". Read some of last week's comments.
I was going through some of my old posts and came upon this one when only myself was reading my blog. And I knew I wanted to use it for this week's Think About It Thursdays...
"If your time was up today, have you done what you've wanted to accomplish in life? Do you feel you made a difference in someones life?"
Think away blogfriends. I can't wait to read some of your thoughts!!
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Most of you that have been reading me for a bit know that I manage a restaurant in Waikiki. If not, well....um....I manage a restaurant in Waikiki. (smart ass...right...it's what your thinking?)
And the past month or so I find myself shaking my head at the lack of common sense that people have when they visit the latrine/the loo/the john/the powder room/the little ladies room...
Why do people NOT flush the toilet at my restaurant.
1. They do work. (Because when I adorn the gas mask and kick the lever to flush, IT WORKS!)
2. They are NOT automatic flushers. (And if they were, wouldn't you realize after pulling up the panties that it didn't flush. Don't people WAIT for their toxic wastes to disappear in sewer land?)
Okay and one more thing on this one...the days where I open a door to make sure it looks clean and doesn't need a refill on toilet paper and am surprised with poop on the walls and the door...I'm confused.
I didn't notice anyone walk out of the stall with fecal matter all over their clothes? Because again...my toilets are in good working condition. So what happened that my bathroom got 'blessed' with your crap and YOU didn't? The kind that makes me rethink allowing drunk people in the bathrooms? Wait...is it that all those people are drunk? Nah...too easy.
I'm not asking for much people. I do work hard. I know it's part of my job. BUT come ON. I would like to keep the gas mask to just my home for use by my husband or myself. (he says I'm stinky...but I'm sure it smells like roses. **snicker, snicker**)
Think about me next time you visit your favorite restaurant and go potty.
Pull the panties up. Turn around. Kick the lever with your foot (cause that's what I was told), Watch it flush. Exit the bathroom stall. Wash your hands. Viola. Easy peasy.
Or I'll do it and leave you with NO toilet paper. And you won't know until AFTER....buwahahahahaha.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
I was perusing through blogland and stumbled on Vodkamom's blog and saw this video she posted a couple of days ago.
I love watching the ones where some random place has a zillion regular people doing a random choreographed dance to a song. This particular song always makes me smile. At some point at least a couple of times a year, you might catch me humming it.
In fact, this movie bonded me to my grandfather. Two people, related, but not really 'connected'. And this movie gave us a connection of being our favorite. And maybe it's why I loved this movie even more. Because I will always have THIS connection. Or whatever that corny saying..."We'll always have this dance.." is.
Today just brought me back to some things that I hadn't 'forgotten' but hadn't thought about in a while. And when the memory is connected somehow to my father, a range of emotions flood me. Sometimes it's happy and warm and I can go about my day.
Other times I find myself in a startling reminder of realizing he isn't physically with me. Even though, come this January, it will be 17 years.
Half my life is coming up without him not being in it. How did time move so fast but feel like an eternity at the same time?
I spoke with a man about the Big Island (Hawaii) today at work. It was the last place I had lived with my dad. Memories of the things/places/people we spoke of brought a smile to my heart. It had been a while since I had thought of these cobwebbed pieces of a long ago life.
I often wonder about the unfinished life that might have been had he not died. Some days, I let my mind wander far down it's path. Those are the hard days that feels like life is punching me in the guts. When life told me my dad's time was up.
But I know better.
Everything has it's reasons. Any ONE thing in my life that would be different, ultimately would change where I am today.
And where I am today, is being my beautiful daughters mother. That always brings me back.
The ONE thing I am most certain of in my life.
Forgive the tangent today. It's the song and the innocent conversation with a stranger.
It triggered me today and made the memories stir.