Christmas with Emily

There's nothing like having an 8 year old around to make the holiday a whole lot merrier - from the time she walked in the door in her new zebra print pajama pants until I heard her snoring in the back seat as I drove her home.

She helped me make pancakes for our annual Christmas breakfast. I needed three eggs cracked into a measuring cup and two out of three actually made it. Joey's trusty dog Rooney helped clean up the raw egg mess. Later in the day, as Joey was pulling hard yellow schmutz off Rooney's head, we wondered what he had gotten into. Then we realized his head must have rubbed against the yolk oozing down the cupboard door as he was gamely licking the floor.

I got Emily a lot of small gifts instead of one large one. Joey always passes out our gifts on Christmas. As he was handing Emily yet another one, he said (referring to me) "I remember when I was her favorite."

Eight of us played a simple card game called Kings. It's a fun, easy game and Emily has mastered the strategy and the art of it. She giggles with delight when she sticks another player with an unwelcome card, she graciously pitches in her quarter when she loses. She wanted so much to win, only to come in second.

Everyone else left mid afternoon, and that gave Emily and I a couple hours alone together. We played the new Pictionary game where you draw on the little plastic man - not all that much fun with two people. Then we made Rice Krispie Treats. Asking an eight year old to pour Rice Krispies into a measuring cup yields approximately the same result as asking her to crack eggs...and the Rooney-vac was gone. Suffice it to say I found a couple kernels of Rice Krispies in my bedroom the following morning.

Thanks to Emily's sophisticated palate, however, I did end up with a valuable recipe tip: Less cereal, more marshmallows.

Bat Shit Crazy X3

1. I just have to say it - every one of my relatives over 40 years old is bat shit crazy. We fall into two categories: those who are on medication and those who ought to be.

2. My boss sits in a cubicle right across the aisle from me. This morning I heard him gasp and say "that can't be happening!" I glanced over to see him peering intently at his computer screen. I asked him what was wrong. My mind was running the gamut from his elderly mother being ill to our ecomm site crashing. But no. He was looking at the Ralph Lauren Rugby site and he thought the sweatshirt that he wanted to buy his DOG was sold out. Think about that. Ralph Lauren for his dog. Bat. Shit. Crazy.

3. A friend of ours who lives in a very nice condo complex has a gay couple for neighbors. They all woke up this morning to DIE FAG MOVE OR DIE spray painted across the outside wall of their homes. What the hell is wrong with people? That's so far beyond bat shit crazy it's scary.

Go Greyhound

I'm trying to plan a trip to Florida in February and I hate to fly. I'm going so far south that driving it in one day isn't feasible. Driving it in two days sucks too much time out of my week of vacation. In desperation, I decided to check out my options at Greyhound. 

They are bad.

However, I found this interesting info about checked baggage. I think it’s safe to say that Greyhound caters to a different audience than the airlines. The red highlights are mine.

Acceptable Types of Baggage

In general, acceptable baggage includes suitcases, duffel bags, toolboxes, trunks and securely tied cardboard boxes. A plastic and/or a paper bag is not acceptable as checked baggage.

Really? What if the bag has handles? And what if I securely tie those handles together? That, my friend, turns my JC Penney shopping bag into luggage.


Prohibited Items for Checked Baggage 

Acids, ammunition, animals, combustible liquids, compressed gases, corpses, cremated remains, explosives, firearms of all types, fireworks, flammable liquids, furniture, hazardous materials (poisons, radioactive materials, etc.), materials with a disagreeable odor, matches, merchandise for resale, protruding articles, or any unsecured articles including those in plastic or paper bags are prohibited

All right, I get it, no plastic or paper bags no matter how nice they are. But wait a minute. I can’t check a corpse? What if it’s in a securely tied cardboard box?

Hmm, no cremated remains either. So much for Plan B.

Thanks, Day 24

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I've had a fun but exhausting day. I'm thankful for all of it, but here are a couple highlights:

Aunt Louise is in town from Cincinnati for the first time in 7 or 8 years. I mentioned in an earlier post what an interesting life she's had and how great her stories are. This morning I picked her up at my cousin's house in Gahanna and drove her to my brother's house in Pataskala. It was nice to have a chance to talk one-on-one. I mentioned the Ohio State/Michigan game was this weekend. She told me when she was young she'd never miss an Ohio State/Michigan game and that her friend was on the faculty at OSU and they consequently had great seats. One year - and granted, this was probably in the 1930's or 1940's - it was so cold and snowy the stadium emptied out before the game ended. The bleachers (her word) were TOTALLY EMPTY except for Louise and her friend, the only true diehard Buckeyes fans who wouldn't leave until the game was over and the Buckeyes won.

That must have been something, that's all I have to say : )

Later in the day at Chrissy and Bryan's, where I had dinner, about 8 of us were playing cards and there was a huge misunderstanding in a conversation between my ex husband and Bryan's mother. It's really too complicated to explain here but it was like watching a very slow, but inevitable, train wreck. My son Joe was at the table playing cards with us and he did his very best to derail it but to no avail. And now, for Joe and I, the cell phone pornography story will forever be a part of our Thanksgiving tradition.

Thanks, Day 23

I'm kind of thankful this all ends tomorrow, aren't you?

I said in the very first post I wasn't going to say I was thankful for my kids because that is a given. I am, though. I spent the day working and laughing with Chrissy. I talked to Joey on the drive home and had the best time. He is so smart and funny. So there you have it. Thankful for my kids. How original.

(but they're such good kids)

Thanks, Day 22

What I know about electronics you could store on a 2 gig thumb drive and still have 2 gigs of memory left. It's amazing I can use gig and thumb drive in a sentence.

I bought a digital camera from Craig's List a few months ago with the help of a friend. I bought a 4 gig memory card for it, took a few pictures, and then dropped it or bumped it or something and shattered the viewing screen. I don't know how it happened. It still takes pictures, you just can't see them on the camera, and that's kind of the point of digital cameras. (Oh, your eyes are closed, let me take it again).

I want to take Thanksgiving pictures so I borrowed a digital camera from a friend. A friend who found her camera, but couldn't find her memory cards. The memory card from my broken camera fits perfectly into her camera, but doesn't work. The screen won't even light up.

So what do I do? Do I search online and try to find an answer? Do I go to Cord or Best Buy for some expert advice? No, I do the sensible thing and head over to Discount Drug Mart.

A few of you may know that Discount Drug Mart is one of my favorite stores. It's close to my house and it sells EVERYTHING. Little peat pots to sprout last years tomato seeds? Discount Drug Mart. Wine? Furnace filter? Frozen pizza? Socks? Discount Drug Mart. It's a fabulous store.

When I got there I wasn't sure where to find memory cards so I asked a young woman who works there. She said "sure we have them" (I knew they would) and walked with me to a service counter. The cards were hanging on a wall behind the counter, obviously for security reasons.

I had the card with me that didn't work. I showed it to the nice young woman (I wish I had gotten her name) and explained my problem to her. I knew the camera needed an SD card; the card I had said SD on it, but also HC. I asked if she knew what that meant. She didn't, but she took her smart phone out of her pocket and googled it for me. It means "High Capacity" and HC cards are not compatible with all kinds of cameras. She sold me an SD card with half the capacity of the one I had. It was $14.99, hence the secure location behind the counter. I came home, put it in the camera and - voila! - it works.

This whole exchange took less than 10 minutes, and I'm so grateful - for pleasant and helpful store clerks and for Discount Drug Mart.

Thanks, Days 18, 19, 20, 21

What a thankless blogging slacker I am! It's time to catch up:

Day 18
I had dinner plans with friends tonight that I bailed on because I was too tired. I got home from work at 6:30, was recliner surfing by 7:30, and the next thing I knew it was 10:30. I'm thankful for recliner naps.

Day 19
Had a nice day running errands with my friend Pat. It's not everyone you can go to Target with and still have fun, but we managed.

Day 20
My daughter cooked spaghetti sauce all day. Like her Grandma Gioffre did, she flavors it with pork but takes the pork out before serving the sauce. That pork is incredible. When the sauce was done, Chrissy fished out the pork and brought it to me for my dinner because she knows I love it.

Day 21
I had a frustrating day at work today, making change after change on our Thanksgiving promotion, mostly because our managers can't get their act together. But a few of my co-workers...well, they're stellar. We bitch for a few minutes about the changes, then we put our heads together, cover each others back, and get the work done. I'm thankful for them.

Now - let's recap the last 3 weeks:
1. Gravy
2. Fannie Flagg
3. Gambling
4. Boss in Meetings
5. Fridays
6. Aunt Louise
7. Perfect Fall Days
8. Road Trips
9. Langston Hughes
10. Enlargement Pill Emails
11. No Cancer Head
12. Pretty Bowls
13. Free Mammograms
14. Unencumbered Saturdays
15. TVLand
16. Cake Balls
17. Blog Control
18. Big Lots Treasures
19. Scrabble Dictionary
20. Recliner Naps
21. Errand Friends
22. Sauce Pork
23. Stellar Co-workers

Thanks, Days 15, 16 & 17

Day 15

I'm writing this a couple days late, but I'm sure on Day 15 I was thankful that this is my blog, I have creative control, and I can post or not post, whatever I feel like.


Day 16

I found a Barbie-sized Justin Bieber doll that I'm pretty sure a certain 8 year old will like for Christmas, as well as a bright pink Christmas stocking with a toe that curls up like an elf shoe. Her stack of gifts is getting larger...I'm having a lot of fun shopping for her...but I'm thankful I found these treasures at Big Lots.


Day 17

My Facebook Scrabble nemesis gave me a present today out of the goodness of her heart: an extra copy she had of the Official Scrabble Dictionary. I don't beat her very often and I'm grateful for any tool that will help.

Thanks, Day 14

Cake balls. Today I'm grateful for the homemade cake balls my coworker brought to the office to celebrate another coworkers birthday. They were individual billiard-ball size portions of cake covered in an icing/candy hybrid. Red velvet cake with chocolate, devil's food cake with white. Holy cow they were good.

Let us count my blessings once again:

1. Gravy
2. Fannie Flagg
3. Gambling
4. Boss in Meetings
5. Fridays
6. Aunt Louise
7. Perfect Fall Days
8. Road Trips
9. Lena Horne
10. Enlargement Pill Emails
11. No Cancer Head
12. Pretty Bowls
13. Free Mammograms
14. Unencumbered Saturdays
15. TVLand
16. Cake Balls

Thanks, Day 13

Tonight I'm thankful for TVLand. When I can't find a thing that interests me on television, I can almost always find something on TVLand. Right now it's M.A.S.H. reruns. TV wise, you could do a lot worse.

Thanks, Day 12

I love a Saturday with nothing to do. I got a lot done - errands, laundry, I worked a bit getting the flower beds ready for winter. But it was all on my own schedule. No agenda, nowhere to be, no one demanding my time. It was nice, and I'm thankful.

Thanks, Day 11

I had a mammogram today. I know – dermatologist earlier this week, mammogram today, I’ve certainly been thoroughly examined recently.

Anyway, the company I work for provides free mammograms if you carry their insurance. That always seems like such a good deal when I sign up for an appointment.

Then, when it comes time for the actual appointment and I leave my desk during my work day to walk to the mammo-mobile out in the back parking lot, I can’t help but question my judgment and wish I’d shelled out the co-pay at St. Anns.

It’s like having a mammogram in a van down by the river with all your co-workers, well, not watching but knowing what you’re doing.

But it’s certainly convenient and, as I said before, free.

So that’s it for today: I’m trying to be thankful for free mammograms.

Thanks, Day 10

If you're reading along (and God only knows why you still would be) then you know I recently went to a nice event at the Cultural Arts Center. I said it was a pottery show, but now I believe ceramics show is more accurate. But that's not the point. The point is that at that event you could buy a handmade soup bowl for $10 and then have it filled with soup for your dinner. There were a couple racks displaying bowls, you picked your favorite and filled it up. My friend Marsha picked the prettiest bowl there. I really liked it. I coveted it. I looked for a similar one, but couldn't find it. Marsha even offered to give me the bowl because she knew I had bowl-envy, but what kind of friend takes a soup bowl right out of another friends hand? My mom taught me better. I settled on a nice but clearly inferior bowl.

I met Marsha today for lunch and what did she bring me? The bowl. What a thoughtful thing to do.  I love it, and I am thankful.

I believe I'll put gravy in it.

For those of you playing at home, here's the thankfulness recap:

1. Gravy
2. Fannie Flagg
3. Gambling
4. Boss in Meetings
5. Fridays
6. Aunt Louise
7. Perfect Fall Days
8. Road Trips
9. Larry Hagman (are you paying attention?)
10. Enlargement Pill Emails
11. No Cancer Head
12. Pretty Bowls

Thanks, Day 9

Today I am thankful - and happy to report - that I do not have cancer head.

Awhile ago my hair stylist said "What's that?" as she was messing with my hair. I had no idea what "that" was but I could feel it on my scalp once she pointed it out to me. She suggested I have it checked.

Always interested in a second opinion, I had my daughter give it a look. She said "Go get that creepy thing taken off your head."

The good news is the dermatologist said it is absolutely nothing to worry about. Just head crud (not her exact diagnosis). She said she could freeze it off but that sometimes hair doesn't grow back properly after a head freezing.

I wonder if Walt Disney knew that? Oh well, he was kind of bald anyway.

Thanks, Day 8

I am thankful to live in a country where I can receive this email - Fast Delivery on Max-Gentlemen "Enlargement" Pills - and nobody goes to jail.

Because if we don't have quick, ready access to Max-Gentlemen "Enlargement" Pills then - say it with me - the terrorists have won.

By the way, I hope you vote today. If you don't vote, you can't bitch.

Thanks, Day 7

I am thankful to know LH. Don't ask me, I won't tell you. This post is for her.

Thanks, Day 6

Is there anything better than a beautiful fall day of cool breezes, bright sun and blue skies? Yes, a road trip with a friend on a day like this. I'm grateful for both.

Once again, lets revisit the thankfulness list:

1. Gravy
2. Fannie Flagg
3. Gambling
4. Boss in Meetings
5. Fridays
6. Aunt Louise
7. Perfect Fall Days
8. Road Trips

It's probably amazing how many of these we have in common, right?

Thanks, Day 5

I was trying to avoid being thankful sappy here, but I'm feeling sappy so I can't help it. I drove to Cincinnati today to see my Aunt Louise. My buddy Pat was nice enough to ride along and bring her little dog. Aunt Louise loves dogs and now that she lives in a retirement home she doesn't get her hands on one too often. We had a good visit and it was a beautiful day for a drive.

Aunt Louise is 98 years old. She'd be furious with me for telling you that, so keep it to yourself. I've heard her use this line a thousand times: Someone will ask how old she is and Louise will say "Can you keep a secret?" When the person says yes, Aunt Louise says "so can I." Some of her cronies in the home have pulled me aside and asked me how old she is because she won't tell them. Neither will I. If you have a little vanity at 98 then I say good for you!

At 98, she still lives in her own apartment. Uses a walker, but gets to the dining room on her own for dinner. Has lived an amazing life for a woman of her time - she graduated from college, worked in a children's home in the south when she was barely in her twenties, became a minister in the Methodist church, traveled all over the world as a missionary and tells fascinating stories about all of it. Slightly embellished stories, possibly, but only to make them just a bit more colorful.

For example, while I was out picking up our lunch, Louise regaled Pat with the story about her former neighbors (before the home) and how the man murdered his wife. With a sledgehammer. Blood was everywhere! And he only spent one night in jail.

Appalling as it is, I know for a fact that Louise's neighbor did kill his wife with a hammer. She was terminally ill, he was her caregiver. I know Louise heard about it, but "I heard my neighbor killed his wife" becomes much more riveting when you throw in a few extra details. It takes a story from good to great.

Aunt Louise is the last living relative in the generation above me. Once she's gone, there won't be any aunts or uncles left. So, I'm thankful she's still around and still pretty sharp and healthy.



 

Thanks, Day 4

I had a very nice day today. The weather was sunny and crisp. Work went well. I spent the evening downtown with good friends. We started off at a pottery show in the Cultural Arts Center, followed by a chilly walk on the beautiful new Main Street bridge, and ended with pumpkin pie and good conversation in a condo with an amazing view of the city. It was a stellar day.

And yet, as I write this, the thing I keep thinking is I'm SO thankful it's Friday.

Thanks, Day 3

My boss was in a meeting today from 9 to 4.

Let me repeat that: 9 to 4. All day.

So, I had a quiet, relaxing and somewhat productive day and I'm thankful.

Let's recap the thankfulness so far:

1. Gravy
2. Fannie Flagg
3. Gambling
4. Boss In Meetings

Boy, if that doesn't give you an attitude of gratitude nothing will.

Thanks, Day 2

I received an email this morning informing me that I won the weekly prize in the football pool - $24. Tonight I played Keno with my buds and hit for $29! Awesome! I am so thankful for gambling!

A Month of Thanks

It started today on facebook, just like it did last November 1. People are counting down to Thanksgiving by posting something each day for which they are thankful. I don't want to do it on facebook, but I'll try to do it here. Last year I wrote about the 12 days of Christmas. This year I'll do a Thanksgiving blogfest. Read along if you want.

I'll start off by saying I'm thankful for my kids, my house, my employment, my health. That's a given.

So, today, I am thankful for gravy. Yummy gravy like my mom taught me to make. I cooked a chuck roast yesterday during trick or treat. I cooked it on low heat for a long time, until the meat fell apart at the touch of a fork. It was too late to eat it for yesterday's dinner. Tonight, I heated it back up, took out the meat, added some Wondra flour, water and seasoning to the broth and made graaaaaaavy.

Dang it was good. It makes me think of Fannie Flagg. I read somewhere that she said low-calorie cooking was not a tradition in her family; in fact they considered gravy a beverage.

A former neighbor of mine said she saw Fannie Flagg on a talk show and I was just like her. Not so much in appearance, but more in mannerisms and speech.

I wish I was like Fannie Flagg in that she's published quite a few books. I loved Fried Green Tomatoes. Her subsequent books were entertaining, but inconsequential. I do like her, though, so I'll add her to the list of things I'm thankful for today:

1. Gravy
2. Fannie Flagg

Targeted Marketing, Part 2

It's happened again. I've received another email from the Quality Paperback Book Club.

Like I mentioned in my previous post, this one was headed at the top with: NEW & PERFECT FOR YOU.

The support copy read: We want you to be the first to know about this new arrival that matches your reading interests.

The title of this one?

CRAFTING WITH CAT HAIR
Cute Handicrafts to Make with Your Cat

Seriously.

Ode To Coffee

Oh coffee.

You stain my teeth

and coat my tongue

and I didn’t like you

when I was young

but now I crave you

every morning

I became addicted

without warning

to coffee.

Oh coffee.

Hot and steamy

from the carafe

sweet and creamy

with half and half

my morning nectar

in a paper cup

you serve me well

you wake me up

Oh coffee.

A Case Study In Targeted Marketing

I belong to one of those book clubs where you get a lot of books for free when you sign up and then you have to tell them every month not to send you any more.

I received an interesting email from them the other day. The subject line was "We've been thinking about you."

Now that I'm in the e-comm biz, I pay more attention to subject lines and email content than I used to, so I clicked it open right away.

This was the headline at the top: NEW & PERFECT FOR YOU.
(The use of caps is theirs, not mine.)

The support copy read: We want you to be the first to know about this new arrival that matches your reading interests.

Now I am interested. This email represents the beauty of e-comm marketing - looking at what you've ordered or declined in the past and tailoring an offer specifically for you. Target marketing. It's what Amazon does so well on their site.

Imagine my surprise when I saw the recommended book:

Penis Power
The Ultimate Guide on Male Sexual Health

Hmmm. Maybe just a little off-target in this case.

Happy Blog for Your Breasts Day

Just a couple quick thoughts now that it's October and Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

My sister was diagnosed with breast cancer about 25 years ago. She had a large, egg-size lump in her breast that the doctor ignored for quite awhile because it hurt and, according to him at the time, cancerous tumors didn't hurt. She had a mastectomy, no chemo or radiation, and luckily is alive and well and cancer free.

My friends Linda, Betsy and Kay are all breast cancer survivors.

Face it, we all know someone who's had breast cancer.

I joined the Army of Women because I love the concept: Using the internet to find women to participate in breast cancer research. I haven't qualified for any of the studies so far, but you never know, maybe I will some day. (You don't have to have breast cancer to do that, by the way.) 

In the meantime, I thought I could at least participate in Blog for your Breasts Day.

To borrow a phrase from another breast cancer support group, it's time to save the tatas.

Why Teachers Don't Get Paid Enough

My daughter, who teaches high school science, shared this story with me. She has a new student in class as of yesterday – I don't know the young lady’s name – but she hadn’t yet been to school this year because she’s been in juvenile detention. She is currently wearing a “house arrest” ankle bracelet under her knee socks because she’s being charged with felonious assault. With a can opener.

That's probably better than felonious assault with a gun or knife, but a felony is a felony and my daughter is still wary. In fact, here's what she wrote to me:

"To look at the girl from the ankle up, she's sweet as pie. Cute, small framed, wore a pony tail and a headband. But look at her from the ankle down and all you see is a little square that says 'back off, bitch, I'll kill you with the first blunt object I can grab." 

Think about that the next time someone says "Teachers have it easy, they get the summer off."

Ode to Cupcakes

The mighty

Chai tea

cupcakes

are wonderful

stuff

When my buddy

Meghan

makes ‘em

I can’t get

enough

Thoughts and Memories: A Very Narrow View of 9/11

Mention 9/11 to me and I think of my former coworker, Bob.  He's the guy who's always in my answer to the question "Where were you when it happened?" We were working at Schottenstein’s, I walked past Bob's desk and he said “Brad (his partner) just called. A plane hit the World Trade Center.”

I no longer take peace for granted. I called my mom that day and told her to turn on her TV because “we’re being attacked.” I’d never had to say anything like that before in my life. It had never even occurred to me that I might.

I worry that I’ll have to say it again. Before 9/11, I lived in a world that felt mostly safe. I may have worried a bit about crime, but never about a war being fought on my turf, or about mass destruction and chaos. Another attack seems almost inevitable to me now.

Every morning before I go to work, I turn on the news as I’m getting ready. This started the day after 9/11, and I don’t think I’ve missed a day since. When the inevitable happens, I want to know it.

I still have bottled water and two boxes of emergency supplies in the basement: Duct tape. Batteries. First aid kit. Some – by now – very old peanut butter and canned goods. In my mind I know it’s basically worthless, but I feel better knowing it’s there.

I now have a deep-rooted respect for firefighters, police officers and those who serve in the military. I don’t always agree with the politics of these institutions, but the men and women who rush in where angels fear to tread are aces in my book and I'm grateful to them.

I love Rudy Guiliani and Tony Blair. Rudy held it together for us day after day. My daughter and I were watching TV together when Prime Minister Blair pledged Britain's support to the US and we openly declared our love for him right then. It felt good to have friends.

Overt displays of patriotism bring a tear to my eye. Before 9/11, hearing the National Anthem or seeing a color guard didn’t phase me a bit and now they do. I’m misty-eyed right now, just thinking about it.

Random Thoughts

My niece owns and works an organic farm in Florida. I saw her last night and she gave me a dozen farm-fresh eggs from a variety of different hens. Most of the eggs varied in color from beige to dark brown. Two of them were greenish blue. I fried two this morning - a green one and a tan one. They looked different from grocery-store eggs - the yolks were dark, almost orange. They tasted different - kind of richer and eggier. And - they kind of creeped me out.

My daughter's wedding reception was last Saturday. She was, without a doubt, the happiest bride I've ever seen. No tears, no tension. She danced, she laughed, she partied, she truly was the belle of the ball.

Speaking of the wedding, I wore a navy blue dress with a matching chiffon jacket that I thought was pretty and appropriate. Two different people told me they were glad to see I hadn't worn a "mother of the bride" dress. Is that a compliment? It didn't feel much like a compliment. I wore pearls with it for God's sake and if pearls don't say "mother of the bride" then I don't know what does.

Speaking of mother-of-the bride, I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that during the course of the wedding weekend I went off on the father-of-the bride - twice. I was a little stressed, and he was a little obnoxious. It happened once when he suggested a change to the seating chart two weeks after I sent it to him and at the very time I was writing table numbers on the little placecards, and once, at the end of the reception, when he apparently thought because the DJ had quit playing and the lights were up, it was perfectly okay to smoke inside. He said I hadn't yelled at him as much since the day we got married.

Speaking of yelling, a woman I work with was fired Thursday. Let's call her Ann. Ann was not very good at her job, but she made up for it by being bitchy and underhanded. She also had a habit of screaming at people. She'd been talked to about it by her supervisor and HR, she'd been written up for it, she was on probation for it. Wednesday Ann went off on a co-worker - again. HR sent her home for the day, and fired her the next day. Ann texted a different co-worker afterward and said she was "shocked." Shocked? Really?  Note to Ann: YOU WERE ON PROBATION FOR YELLING AT PEOPLE! YOU SHOULD HAVE STOPPED!

Speaking of Ann, she never once yelled at me. Good thing. I'd hate to go all mother-of-the-bride on her ass.

Thank God for the Golden Girls

I am lucky to have many good friends. I am especially lucky that three of them - Kathy, Kate and Kris - I have known most my life. I met Kate in second grade. Kathy and Kris are my newer friends - I was in junior high before I met them. I know I'm being sentimental, but they have been a constant blessing in my life ever since.

On Saturday, Kathy, Kris and I spent the afternoon at Kate's. She and her husband Terry have a beautiful in-ground pool in their backyard - it's heated - and it's heaven. Kris was going straight from there to a graduation party, so she went in the house to change, fix her hair and fix her makeup, you know the drill. When she came out of the house - looking very cute - she missed a step off the patio and took a header right into the pool. It wasn't funny for about 5 seconds. When she stood up and was clearly okay, it got a lot funnier.

Fast forward a couple hours. We've left, but Kate is still poolside with her grandson who was spending the night. He wanted to wave goodbye to his parents, so Kate was holding him, jockeying for better waving position, and fell flat on her rear in a small blue spruce that's by the patio. Grandmother and grandson were fine. She called me while she was in the house, plucking pine needles from herself. It was funny immediately.

Then today, Kris came to my house so we could ride together to Kate's for another afternoon in the pool. Almost as soon as Kris got in my house she noticed her shirt was on inside out. She laughed, went into the bathroom and fixed it, and we were on our way. I hadn't been in Kate's house for more than two minutes when her husband Terry asked if I had been in a hurry to get there, because my shirt was inside out.

Seriously.

Long ago the four of us decided we would grow old together and take care of each other just like the Golden Girls. (We're going to keep Terry and Kathy's husband Chris around because they're cute and fun and handy.) We spend a lot of time together bemoaning the aging process. We're still not very old and yet, on some days, aging manifests itself in strange, unexpected ways. But as long as we can help each other up and make sure we're presentable in public, I think we'll be okay.

(PS - fyi - my daughter, Christina Catherine, was named in honor of my lifelong buds.)

Pie Logic

This weekend I got to spend a couple days with my granddaughter Emily. Friday night while Chrissy and Bryan were out, Em and I went to the grocery store to buy food for Saturday's dinner when company was coming over. I told her what we were serving, but that I hadn't planned anything for dessert, and she could pick the dessert all by herself. Cake, pie, ice cream, cookies, whatever she wanted. We browsed the bakery and she considered her options, but when she saw the pumpkin pie, she chose it immediately. It was her FAVORITE and we bought whipped cream to go with it.

After we finished shopping, we drove through Taco Bell for dinner. On the way home, Em said she'd like pumpkin pie for dessert. No can do, I said, the pie is for Saturday night. She seemed puzzled, but let it go. I assumed she was surprised I said no, because I never do : )

When we were home and eating our Taco Bell, Emily said she'd really like pie for dessert. I said "Emily, the pie is for tomorrow." Exasperated, she said "Jeano, I don't want the whole pie, I just want a piece."

Hard to argue with that kind of logic. She had a piece of pie. There was plenty for Saturday night, as Em knew all along there would be.

More Fun With Customer Comments

This comment starts out pretty well…but it’s like her meds wore off right in the middle of typing it.

BECAUSE I'M ALWAYS HAVING TROUBLE FINDIN BRAS UR PLACE IS AND HAS BEEN THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I CAN FIND WHAT I NEED BUT I THINK I NEED Q BEETER FIT I WEAR 36DDD FIT VERY WELL ON MY BACK I HAVE NO PLUNGES OVER THE BACK OR THE SIDE BUT MY CHEST SEEM TO POP OUT A LITTLE.

Thank god she has no plunges over the back. Those can be a bitch.

Insurance Rant

This is an excerpt from an article I just read on usatoday.com:

Outgoing Aetna chairman gets a $68.7 million goodbye

Ron Williams had a great final year at Aetna. The outgoing chairman of the nation’s third-biggest health insurer exercised stock options worth more than $50.3 million and pulled in $18.4 million in pay, stock and other compensation, according to the company’s 2011 proxy filing. Williams’ $68.7 million payout ranks among the highest of any 2010 compensation package.

Here's a link to the entire article if you want to read it:
www.usatoday.com/money

Now, I'm not a math whiz, but I can take $68.7 million and divide it by 365 days. Let's give Ron the benefit of the doubt and say that a high-level exec like him works every day of the year. His daily compensation?

$18,821. A day.

I have Aetna medical insurance through work. I don't know what the company pays, but my contribution is roughly $1300 annually, and that's after I get a discount for not smoking and being fairly healthy. If Ron works a 12 hour day, he could pay my portion of the coverage for a full year with one hour's work.

Now tell me again that our health care system isn't broken.

Flimpsy Bra

In January, I published an email my employer received from an upset customer about a sweater. At the time, I didn't realize it was the first of a series.

Following is a real, unedited email we received about a bra. I only deleted our company name and the contact information so I can keep my job.

To M, it's author, the only thing I can say is just be thankful your bra didn't get all link ball.

"I hav been a faithful shopper of (company) in bra and jeans but very faithful n my bra only buy them here for the last15yrs hav started my daughter,however for the last yr and last week just purchase a bra always buy (company)i notice the quality of my bra is not good at all i pay good money for these bras from 38-42.00 for my bras every trip sometimes 2 or 3 at a time on sat bought a(company)went for a black didnt hav one but need a bra so i boihht abrown one1st disapointment, 2days later it slidind and flimpsy, very disatified, didnt want to take bac cause i wore it, butpls do sumtin my daughyer and friend has already tried somewher elsei feel bad after i bragged on these underwire bras, wat to do now, i stuck wit a bra that not workin time after time i feel like i invested in a bad deal for the last yr and last week, my contact if u even care is(deleted)well thanks anyway....m"

Happy Birthday Joey

30 years ago today my son Joey was born. 30 years. I know, I was quite young to have a child. Nevertheless, I've found myself thinking about those early days with my first born, and one of my favorite stories ever.

My labor started on St. Patrick's Day. When it had progressed enough to head to the hospital, Joe (Joey’s dad) and I called to tell our parents. When Joe pulled the car into the circular drive of OSU Hospital to drop me off, we saw his parents waiting inside. They had beaten us there.

As it turned out, there wasn’t any hurry. I was in labor a long time. Joe and I, his parents and my parents ended up spending the night in the hospital, waiting for Joey. Joe and I walked the halls. The Gioffres and the Kolks played euchre in the waiting room. Everyone was tired and punchy.

Finally I was scheduled for a c-section and Joey was born. Joe went to the waiting room to tell our parents. This was back in the day before detailed untrasounds so Joe got to make the big announcement:
“It’s a boy…and he has the biggest balls I’ve ever seen.”

Always an interesting guy, that Joe.

But my mom fired right back: “Oh, he must take after the Kolks.”
She was a funny, funny woman.

That was March 18, 1981. The day we all met the sweet baby boy who was and is one of the best things that ever happened to me. Happy birthday, Joey!

On the Birthday of Dr. Suess

I’ve loved Dr. Suess
from the very first time
I heard read aloud
his merry-ful rhymes
of the cat in the hat
and Bartholomew too
of oobleck and Yertle
and fish red and blue.

I’ve loved Dr. Suess
and I’ll sing out his praises
for Horton and Grinch
and the fun that he raises.
If I ran the circus
or I ran the zoo
I couldn’t do better
than Suess, could you?

I’ve loved Dr. Suess
I’ve loved him a lot
and some of his books
were the first that I got,
like Fox In Sox and
Hop on Pop,
I read and I read and
I never have stopped.

(I meant what I said and I said what I meant,
I’m Dr. Suess faithful one hundred percent)

Reality Bites

When you think you’ve dodged a bullet
Or gotten a free pass,
Reality taps you on the shoulder
Then bites you in the ass.

Kentosh

One of the great things about working in advertising is the fun, creative people you get to work with every day. I’ve met many remarkable writers and designers over the years. Some of the relationships ended when the job ended, some of them became dear friends.

My buddy Kentosh fell somewhere in the middle. I found out yesterday that she died.

I loved Kentosh, but we weren’t in each other’s inner circle of friends. I met her when I was in my twenties. When that job ended, we were only sporadically in touch. Happily, in the last ten years or so, new jobs, email and Facebook reconnected us. We’d do lunch or an occasional weekend get-together.

The last month or so, I noticed Kentosh wasn’t posting on Facebook. I wondered why. Her obituary in Sunday’s paper offered the explanation. She had suffered a series of strokes, starting after Christmas. I didn’t even know she’d been sick.

So Kentosh is on my mind and since I tend to write about things that are on my mind, here we are.

Her name was Karen Kentosh. All of us who worked with her back in the day called her Kentosh. I don’t know why.

Kentosh was a talented, meticulous writer and also a charming cartoonist. Her little drawings and characters always made me smile. We called her Kentosh, but I know her nickname among other friends was Toons.

Kentosh and I, along with a couple other co-workers, were founding members of an elite social group called the Hell Hogs. Hell Hog meetings convened at lunch or happy hour. This may surprise you, but the Hell Hogs were not always well behaved. We took extended lunches. We sometimes drank at lunch. We lied about birthdays so we could get free dessert. We were loud. We thought we were hysterically funny but in reality we were probably obnoxious. It was so much fun and I still have my Hell Hog badge.

In the early days, Kentosh and I decided we should quit the advertising biz and open our own bar: Tosh & Gioff’s. Sadly, plans never progressed beyond the name.

Kentosh was about ten years older than I. When we first met, I thought she was the coolest person ever. Funny. Irreverent. Daring.

As we matured, I began to also appreciate her intelligence, her passion for politics and the environment, and her compassion for others.

This past September, Kentosh, two other Hell Hogs and I tried to organize a mini reunion. It didn’t happen, and that's a shame. It would have been great to hang with Kentosh one more time.


Kentosh Self Portrait