2-4-12 Saturday (Tricky Abbreviations)

When Jim and I moved in together, he unpacked this eerie clown picture from his childhood.

Honestly, he won’t get rid of it.  It’s creepy and he feels like some strange horror-movie-ish thing will happen.  Every time he throws it out, it will simply reappear a week later next to something dead.  Maybe the hat the clown was wearing will be laying in our front yard.  You know, freaky stuff like that.  So for the last 12 years, it has been “safely” stored away in a guest room dresser drawer… (maniacal laugh) until recently. 

You see, he likes hanging the dumb picture of a cub below in the bathrooms of any residence we’ve been in. 

I’ve pleaded that I hate the photo and then without regard to my disgust, it will appear in the bathroom.  I decided enough was enough and removed said picture and swapped it with Creepy Clown Painting.  Jim and I laughed but yet a month later it still hangs above the toilet.  Jim said we’ll leave it there; it scares the shit out of him… literally.

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Once in a while you find out that someone didn’t know something that you’d think they should.  Like… a mechanic should know what a strut is.  A surgeon should know about scalpels.  Stuff like that.  A year ago while I was in my training class, we talked about CDs.  You know (or maybe not) CDs as in Certificates of Deposit or Time Accounts?  Well as we kept talking about them, a coworker, who was under 21, asked what we were talking about.  She was confused as to why we’d sell CDs as in music CDs.  I don’t think anyone laughed out loud but truth be known, I chuckled to myself.  I then realized that maybe things that I consider simple are maybe not so much to others and that the definition of a CD should have been explained.   So where the hell am I going with this?  Well, on Wednesday a coworker who has worked for the company for about a year and a half mentioned that when a client inquires about an IRA (Individual Retirement Account) she connects them to the mortgage folks.  Why?  She thought an IRA stood for International Renter’s Association and they were looking to purchase a home.  When I heard this story today, I didn’t laugh nor smile.  I was in shock.  Yes, later I laughed my ass off.

Speaking of work… a co-worker has started selling Mary Kay.  I like Mary Kay… well the few products that I can or will use anyway.  I ordered some oil absorber that I’ve used years and years ago.  It’s perfect for smearing on my face and keeping my oil fields-ish nose from sparkling inappropriately.  So I told Jim I had ordered that and he mentioned how he liked Tribute Cologne so I ordered that the next day too.  If you’re interested, Michelle will ship to you:

I am a Mary Kay Independent Beauty Consultant.  I can assist you with skincare and body care needs that are specific to you.  Also, I am able to help you establish a personal color pallet that will fit all parts of your life.  Having fun is part of my business, hosting a party where I can be with you and your friends is another way that I love to work.  If you are not in my area that is ok, all shipping is completely free to you and all products are guaranteed.  I can be contacted through phone 309-339-5456, email msmith08@marykay.com, or my website marykay.com/msmith08. 

For every dollar you spend, she’ll contribute something to the Tammy Faye Bakker Institute of Make-up.  OK, not really but certainly sounds connected and legit, doesn’t it?

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Today we had some errands to do.  We needed to get our state income taxes mailed out.  We went to the Post Office.  Who decorated these tacky places?  Wall to wall Formica.  It’s so institutional.  Why are they so run down? 

Above/Below: Great alcoves for service.  No copier, no scale and no stamp machine.

It really is a shame that the post office wasn’t run more retail-ish than governmentish.  I lump the attitude and service of the Post Office right up there with the DMV or tag office.  Yes, I know not everyone is that way.  I hate to stereotype like “all New Yorkers are rude” which is how I’m coming across but the majority of postal counter workers (not carriers) are awful.  If only the government would have stopped taking their money.

Onward to BJ’s for some weekly supplies.  Here’s what I saw:

I didn’t have my camera with me so the best I could do was the camera phone.  That kid had so many barrettes in her hair, I’m not quite sure how she held her head up.

Oh, and honey… your bloomers are showing.  Severely.

Later in the day Jim and I vacuumed, mopped, scrubbed, wiped, etc to get ready for a cocktail party.  I didn’t take any photos of people.  I had a little wine.  Perhaps that had to do with it.  Here’s the shots I snapped while sober:

 

Above: Dasher eagerly awaits guests.

Above: Some food ready to go.  The rest was on the kitchen bar and dinette table.  Sorry, no more photos.

This type of party was a first for us.  We did it as a potluck appetizer/snack sorta way.  Deanna, Beth, Billy (Mike had a migraine), Ruby, Jamie, Jim and I had great conversation.  We had all sorts of dips and spreads and pizza rolls, and guacamole and this and that.  Lots of wine.  It was all yummy.  I totally blew through my Weight Watchers points. I utilized Pandora and played some swanky groovy music (listen here) if you want a sample AND Pandora is 100% free.  Love it.