Dream Job

I used to say that my dream job would be taking vacations for those people who never took them. I’d travel with their family to wherever they wanted to go, take pictures and eat their favorite foods. So many people have no ‘time’ to take vacations and allow their vacation days to expire or just keep rolling them over. I’m a firm believer in vacations but I’ve decided that is not my dream job anymore. Why? Because I’d have to travel with their families, take pictures and eat their favorite foods, that’s why. Thinking about it more in-depth I realized I can’t travel with just anyone and when you find someone you don’t like to travel with it can be miserable.

I traveled for work for about a two-year stretch and traveled with approximately 20 different people (that’s not counting the 45 people I traveled with on a bus to Indianapolis for a trade show, that’s for a completely different post). I would dare to bet that if I had the choice I would only pick 10 to 12 of the 20 to travel with again. Not because I don’t like them, because our traveling styles are completely different.

You find out what people are really made of when you’re stranded at an airport, getting frisked, need help hauling work materials, or driving in traffic. Some of that is very scary. I’ve been in Detroit overnight with a coworker (and a random guy from the re-ticketing line), I’ve had to take off a suit jacket and get frisked in a see-through tank top standing in front of a window where my coworkers were watching, I’ve been left behind because a coworker was more worried about their one bag than the 5 I had to carry containing work materials and I’ve been lost in New Jersey because of bad directions. You will probably hear about all of those things as each one has quite the story.

There are trips that I’ve actually prayed would come to an end because of the sheer misery of the situation and the person I was traveling with. On the other hand there have been trips I prayed would never end because of the fun we were having.

After I traveled for work and couldn’t pick my travel partners was when I decided my dream job was no longer my dream job. I was going to pick the people I take my personal vacations with. It’s time I move on and find a new dream job. I’ll let you know what I decide.

Life’s Little Pleasures

In my last post I talked about having to buy new socks. Ohhhh, new socks, one of life’s little pleasures. Not sure if any of you have those but I sure do. Here are my top 5:

New socks: Obviously. They’re not stretched out, no stains on them, no pills, not thin in any spots, they’re just perfect. Some day, I will have enough money so I can always have new socks. LOL.

Making all the green lights: On my way to the gym in the morning there isn’t much traffic; however, I love making all the green lights on 2nd street. Two mornings in a row, just before I got to the first light it turned green and I literally said “SWEET” out loud. I knew that they would all turn just before I got to them, as long as I didn’t drive too far over the speed limit. Oh how sweet life is when the timing is just perfect.

Fresh mown grass: I mowed the lawn tonight, or at least I think I did. I had a very quick dinner out with a friend, a very quick run to K-Mart and then home to attempt to get the lawn done by dark. There I was, sun setting, in flip-flops and some yoga pants, not even sure I had a shirt on, mowing the damp grass. My mower hated every minute of it and so did I. Pretty sure I sprinted (and you know by sprinted I mean waddled quickly) to get the front lawn done. Just as I couldn’t see anymore I parked the mower in the back without mowing it. I guess I got the important part that most people see completed. Tomorrow I will enjoy this life’s little pleasure as I couldn’t see it this evening.

A well-needed phone call: This morning my phone rang at 7:00. Idaho called and was in an exceptionally good mood for 6:00 his time. He called because he’s been forgetting to tell me that my Golden Hamsters (the Gophers) lost on Saturday 56 – 0. Apparently he thought that was the funniest thing that could ever happen because he giggled for about 3o minutes. I couldn’t help but laugh along with him, as I’ve said before his laugh is completely contagious. During a difficult day at work I could think back on that phone call and smile. He’s completely ridiculous but he makes my day and makes me laugh. As I’ve stated so many times, laughter is so important.

Clean sheets: Oh, I’ve saved the best for last. Clean sheet night is a little slice of heaven here on earth. This is a big deal for me each week (yes, I realize I’m sad and pathetic). Not only does clean sheet night mean clean sheets, it means a clean room, candles, a made bed and a clean closet. It’s quite the affair. While the sheets are in the wash, I light candles, pick up my room, hang up all the clothes in my closet and wait patiently. When my sheets are done and I make the bed, I really make the bed, completely made, decorative pillows and everything. Candles still going so the room smells great, nothing lying around, no empty water bottles, no kleenex, nothing. Spic and span. These nights I go to bed as early as possible but not before I shower. It is a mortal sin to not shower prior to crawling into bed on clean sheet night.

The Benefit

Yesterday I bartended for a benefit for a friend. When I say bartended I mean bartended. Let me start off by saying what an absolutely wonderful day it was. The weather was great, the turn-out was spectacular and the teamwork was outstanding.

My bartending partner was a good friend of mine who bartends for a living, that will be a good piece of information to keep in mind as you work your way through this story. Several others’ helped us out during potty breaks, smoke breaks, a dinner break, times when it was too much for us to handle and keeping us stocked with plenty of product. It was really amazing to see, for a group of people who don’t work together all the time the synchronization was awesome.

Now that I have told the serious portion of the day, I better tell the funny parts of the day as well. I realized about the time I got home at 2:30 AM that you can’t bartend for 13 hours and not have a bunch of funny things to choose from so I’ll share a few.

Around 3:00 PM we realized that this was going to be a day like none other, we had already been busy for 3 plus hours and realized that we were only going to get busier. We had stocked the soda in the cooler 4 times and the beer needed restocking already. Panic ensues when you realize that you’re selling beverages at a breakneck pace wondering if there will be enough to get you through the night because if you don’t you will need riot gear and the bomb squad because things will get ugly. Wide-eyed and laughing we kept serving.

Around 5:00 PM my ankles started a boycott that would last the next 8 hours. They apparently don’t realize we’ve been going to the gym and they’ve been carrying around this weight for years because they were complaining quite loudly. Today it seems that my ankle bones don’t exist and I think I should be calling them cankles, by the time we were done at 12:45 AM they were spilling over the tops of my running shoes. When the night started I really thought they of all things would be cooperative, I was more worried about my knees and my back but they were troopers and held up well. I did try to walk as gingerly as I could but that only made it look like I was waddling. I’m sure it goes without saying but at this point my in-shape counterpart was not waddling at all.

Around 7:15 we took a short dinner break which was much-needed. The bad part of this was that my feet joined in on the loud complaining my ankles had been doing. Sitting down at that point was a really bad idea because attempting to get up from my chair was a major event. My waddle had turned into a full-blown limp. At this point I also have to question running shoes. Is there a weight limit to running shoes? There’s no way I was putting more wear and tear on them than a runner and my feet were not happy in them. One more reason on my list of why not to run.

At about 8:00 my underwear decided to join in the fun. They just gave up, said screw it and completely gave up, they couldn’t even make the whole shift. How was the rest of me supposed to make it through the night if they couldn’t? The elastic had endured enough and gave out. I’m sure you can imagine how comfortable this was, the waistband had made its way below my butt cheeks and stayed there, for no other reason than they couldn’t go any further because of my pants. I guess it was a good thing I had pants on. This added yet another element to the waddle and limp I already had. I’d put a name to it but I don’t think there is one. Needless to say, my counterpart did not have underwear issues, a waddle or a limp.

Around 10:00 I decided the underwear had to go so made my way to the bathroom which was a major feat in itself. Hoping I could get my jeans off without taking my shoes off I sat down to make the attempt at separation. Well, long story short, it didn’t work, no way was I getting my jeans off without taking my shoes off and no way was I taking my shoes off! I figured if I took my shoes off it would be bartending suicide. I didn’t have a scissors on me to cut them off so stood up, pulled them up as far as I could, wore them like a thong and went back to work. The original underwear swagger was gone but a new one took its place.

Around 11:30 we got punchy. I got a second wind, my ankles didn’t feel like they were going to snap at any moment and everything was funny. My counterpart and I really started to notice the condition of many of the patrons and found it hilarious. Although we were still busy, we did have some breathing room at times to enjoy the show that was playing out in front of us.

The jukebox was playing its heart out and one end of the bar was using that as an excuse to show off their singing ability, or lack there of. The other end of the bar had drunk their fill, including the toothless guy who brought his own mix and was now crying. The silent auction tables were gone so another group of people turned that portion of the bar into a dance floor and believe me, I use the term dance loosely. The woman who was drinking “Budweiser in a can bottle” (which is how she ordered it every time because we didn’t have bottles, only cans) had spilled for the third time all over the bar and the guy next to her.

About 12:45 we finally gave up and handed the reigns over to the others who had worked their butts off not only helping us but keeping everything else in line. I felt rode hard and put up wet while my counterpart seemed to have the energy to endure more but I couldn’t let her as I thought it would make me look bad. I took my waddle, limp and bad underwear to a seat on the other side of the bar. We sat next to a couple of our friends to share laughs about the day and stories of boycotting body parts and pieces of clothing.

Gym Orientation

I did not think that I would write about the gym so much! I now realize the gym is a breeding ground for funny in so many ways.

Last week I had weight orientation with a wonderful trainer. Weight orientation is where they show you the machines, ask what your trouble spots are (like they can’t see) and get you started on a good weight routine. We also laughed a lot, not sure that’s the normal routine but it worked for me.

Well, first of all, I really just thought she was going to show us the machines and explain them… oh no, we had to try them out, etc. I was a little late getting there so I had my work clothes on and left my work-out clothes in the car.

How nice to be trying out the machines in dress shoes, jeans and a white sweater (of course with a stain from lunch on it). People were looking at me like I was crazy. About half-way through the orientation one of my underwires decided to attempt to escape and was poking me in a not so great place. When those things happen there’s no lady-like way to fix it other than grabbing, pulling, shifting and maneuvering. So tough being a woman sometimes.

As we were finishing up I did see a fellow with jeans and a Larry The Cable Guy flannel on using work gloves as weight lifting gloves so I didn’t feel so bad. The gloves even looked like they might have had a little residue left on them from the farming he’d done earlier.

Gotta love us rednecks going to the gym. Maybe I’ll pick up a pair of those gloves this week for my weight work-outs.

At The Gym II

Uff da. Today was day 5 at the gym and I’ve witnessed more than I thought I ever would in a mere 5 days. Some of these things are funny, some are disturbing and some are cute. As days go on I’m sure there will be more but here are some quick observations.

There is a group of men that hang out on the bench outside of the locker room each morning. I arrive about 6:10 AM and it seems they’re already into some very intense conversations. The gym opens at 5:30 AM so I’m not sure if they’ve worked out already, are waiting for the machines (which is a no), are watching the women or they’re just there for coffee. I wonder how long my insurance company would reimburse me each month if I just started to check in to have a coffee clutch with the old guys. It’s interesting, the women don’t do that.

What the women do do, is walk around and weigh themselves naked. I know I mentioned this already but the more I’m there the more I realize that I see more naked women in the mornings than I have ever cared to. I don’t even like looking at myself naked let alone anyone else. If they’re not naked, there are parts of some sort hanging out. I’ve come to the conclusion, naked isn’t all that good looking, sexy, handsome, whatever you want to say. I was talking to the man about this and he put it a good way, he said, “no one really looks that great naked, but when you’re with the one you care about, naked becomes about something different, you are looking at that person in a different way, not just as an object”. That was a great answer, a nice way to say, “honey you look really bad naked”, but a great answer nonetheless. No matter what age we are, parts aren’t always where they’re supposed to be, naked isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I’ve realized some people are disgusting. This morning I watched a woman move from machine to machine in her well-planned work-out. I saw her on a total of 6 machines, great, awesome, good job……however, she didn’t wipe any of the machines off!!! She was sweating worse than me on the elliptical (and that’s a lot) so she was dripping everywhere. Honestly sister, have some consideration for the poor soul going on it after you. My saga with her does not end there sadly enough, when she came into the locker room, she put her clothes (sports bra and shorts) into the bathing suit dryer! Really? Your sweaty, stinky, probably non-washed clothes in the same place I dry my swimsuit? Honestly, gross.

Now to end my ramblings on a better note, for the last two mornings an elderly couple (and I mean elderly) has been there. She rides a bicycle in sweats, a shirt, a zip up sweatshirt and a jacket and he is standing next to her coaching and encouraging her. Now mind you, she’s not breaking any land speed records but she’s moving and he’s being supportive. So very sweet.

Technology Help

Do you have those friends or family? You know the ones, they know what a computer is but have no idea what it actually does or how to ‘go on that internet’. Well I have them. One is on the way over here as I type because she needs to order a dress after shopping at Kohl’s today. She calls me to say, ‘I need to have you order that dress for me online by tomorrow because the sale ends tomorrow, and I just don’t know how you’re going to do that but I suppose I’ll have to get you some numbers.’ So I say, I imagine I’ll go to Kohls.com and we’ll order it up from there. Then she says, ‘well you don’t have to be a smart ass, you know I don’t know how to do that’. So I said, thank goodness you know me then, huh. She can get her email but certainly can’t order a dress. This ought to be fun. Not so cute for a 44-year-old.

This little exchange reminded me that this same thing happens when I go to visit my parents. I better warn you, my parents just got rid of their rotary phone, yes, I said rotary phone. My Dad’s gigantic remote, you know the one, big as a laptop with numbers the size of China, quit working so I told him I would fix it when I was home. I asked if he still had the instructions but of course the answer was ‘perhaps in a drawer’. Well, I knew that was a task I didn’t want to take on as their house has about 736 drawers so I told him I didn’t need them. I get home, look up the remote on good old Google, find the instructions and reprogram the remote. It was about 10 minutes of my time, not bad, and Dad was happy. About a week later my brother calls to tell me he heard Dad talking about me fixing the remote. Apparently he said “she fixed it in a matter of minutes, you know, she took her computer, plugged the remote into it and it was fixed”. Now at 80, that’s cute.

Sidewalk Finds

Two coworkers of mine ran across a pair of dirty (and they meant DIRTY) men’s underwear on the sidewalk in downtown Duluth a couple of weeks ago. Now, this isn’t really what I was thinking I would write about when I started this blog but we couldn’t help but laugh thinking about the scenarios for why they would be there.

A homeless guy decided that enough was enough, he’d gotten the wear out of them he needed.
A drunk had an accident at some point and realized that he couldn’t go on any further without discarding them.
Some guy had Mexican for lunch and couldn’t quite make it back to the office.
It was laundry day and they were in the basket (God only knows why he would try to salvage these) and they fell out.
A homeless guy may have lost them out of a shopping cart or his pocket while he was walking, but again, why was he saving them? From the description the girls gave they were un-salvageable.
He could have put them there on purpose to cause just this sort of reaction. But again, I have to stress, they WERE NOT clean so he would have had to soil them at some point. I would think anyone would want to hide the evidence, not flaunt it.

Now, none of these scenarios is a good and here are the reasons why:

If someone had been wearing them and decided he couldn’t live with them anymore how in the hell did he get them off? He would have had to take his shoes and pants off, then the underwear, then put the pants and shoes back on. All in the middle of the sidewalk.
It could have been a cross-dresser and he just slipped them off from under a skirt.
If they had been in a laundry basket, there is not a laundry mat anywhere close so he perhaps had to get on a bus, which brings a whole new scenario.
The poor Clean and Safe Team, although it may not be the worst thing they’ve ever seen, give these good people a break.

My advice is throw them away people, bury them in the trash or burn them in the back yard. There is no need to share them with the world.

Falling Funny

It seems funny fell into my yard the other day. Here she is:

Now, I have no kids, the immediate neighbors on each side of me have no kids and the people directly across the alley have no kids. It certainly wasn’t there the day before, she was very noticeable when we walked out so we would have noticed her. She’s a little thing, about 4 inches high or so.

I wonder how she got there, especially head down. And not just head down but feet straight in the air head down. Did she jump off my roof to try to commit toy suicide? She looks like she’s been put through the ringer so perhaps a child finally got sick of her and tossed her, but from where? Did she fall from the sky? Perhaps she was flushed in an airplane miles above me.

We found this whole thing incredibly funny and the possibilities of how she got there became ridiculous. Not sure if it really was that funny or if it was the company we were keeping and the made up stories that took place. She looks a bit rough but she’s okay.

Gym-Bound

I’m going to join the gym, again. This obviously isn’t the first time and it will not be the last I’m sure. But right now, I’m doing it, I’m going to join the gym. I’m excited, I’m joining with one of my friends, I figure the buddy system is the best way to go, not only for moral support but to be there to document the good stuff.

Last time I was gym-bound I had a buddy as well but she didn’t always want to get up in the mornings so I would go by myself.

The following near death experience is why I quit going last time.

My normal workout was 45 minutes on the elliptical, sometimes I would even bike or walk the treadmill, I really thought I was doing great. One particular morning I decided on the treadmill, there was only one other ‘exerciser’ in the room.

Since I had been working out for months and could do a pretty good pace on the elliptical I thought I would try to jog, what a better time then when the place is empty, right? I walked at a pretty good pace for about 10 minutes and then upped it to a slow jog, now, when I say slow, it’s pretty darn slow. Here’s how it went:

This is great, I can do this
Watch out Grandma’s marathon, here I come
I wonder if I should speed it up a little
Whew, getting winded, wonder if it’s been 5 minutes?
This is harder than I thought, did this thing speed itself up?
Legs are tightening up
I wonder if the other exerciser can see me struggle?
I look over to see him through a blur.
Is this thing speeding up more?
I’m losing my eyesight, my God, I’m going blind!
I’m losing consciousness!
I wonder if the other exerciser will call 911?
I’m screaming for help but nothing is coming out
Apparently he’s not going to call 911 for me
I stab at the machine until it slows way down
I remove myself from the devil machine, looking around for oxygen
I drag a leg over to the water cooler
I look around wondering if he saw me
I check the time, so sure it’s been 10 minutes…….
47 seconds!
I almost died at 47 seconds from jogging
Eff this, I’m going back to the elliptical……

I sure hope my new workouts go better than my last. I will keep you posted.