* When you're married, it's all right not to care what you look like any more.
* Here's how to make things work for yourself: Learn to beg for forgiveness afterward rather than asking for permission beforehand.
* No more blow jobs. Ever.
* After the honeymoon period is when the broom comes out. She'll turn into a witch before you know it.
* He'll stop listening. He's just still trying to impress you.
* You're both going to want to control the others spending habits. You can't have joint accounts. It's a bad idea.
* The sex will slow to a trickle. And good sex will basically stop.
* The romance will end.
* He'll stop holding the door for you.
* Marriage changes the ways you interact with each others' families.
* He's going to feel held back.
* She's not going to let him get away with stuff any more.
* He'll feel comfortable looking at other women again because it's safe for him to check girls out now that everyone knows he's tied down.
Ahhh...If only they knew...
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
My Roommates: Martha Stewart and Houdini
Last week I worked some absurd amount of hours, totalling around 65. Kelly, however, had Friday, Saturday and Sunday off. So, while I worked all three of those days, he busied himself around the house. He built a pen and house for Radley (to be discussed momentarily), hung out with my brother, helped with wedding invitations and cleaned up around the house. Sunday, we hosted dinner to eight family members. For this feat, Kelly cleaned the house, clearing out all clutter and replacing it with fresh flowers. He swept, dusted, did dishes and rearranged furniture. Additionally, he shopped for and prepared a delicious meal for ten of champagne chicken in a creamy mushroom sauce, fettucini and broccoli. I'm calling the networks this week to see if we can get him on air during the day with his own program. I think the ratings will be great!
Ah, yes, the pen and house...Well to my knowledge the house is doing well. The pen on the other hand...
Radley thinks it is fun to dig in our garden. We firmly disagree. There's a section of our yard in the back near the shed that Kelly and I thought would make a great space to section off and put the pup in it while we're gone. He wouldn't be able to reach the garden, but it would be large enough that he has more than enough room to run in and be comfortable. The first two days it was all right. The third day he met us at the back door when we came home. He had found an out by moving a piece of concrete in the corner of the pen. Kelly fixed it. Last night, he met us at the back door again when we came home. Evidently, he has learned that he can jump this four-foot fence with little effort. He sort of puts his paws in it and then pulls himself up and over. Kelly put him back out there and watched him do it so he could learn the secrets of the master.
The pen debacle has now turned into a battle of wits between Martha and Houdini. More to come on that one...
Ah, yes, the pen and house...Well to my knowledge the house is doing well. The pen on the other hand...
Radley thinks it is fun to dig in our garden. We firmly disagree. There's a section of our yard in the back near the shed that Kelly and I thought would make a great space to section off and put the pup in it while we're gone. He wouldn't be able to reach the garden, but it would be large enough that he has more than enough room to run in and be comfortable. The first two days it was all right. The third day he met us at the back door when we came home. He had found an out by moving a piece of concrete in the corner of the pen. Kelly fixed it. Last night, he met us at the back door again when we came home. Evidently, he has learned that he can jump this four-foot fence with little effort. He sort of puts his paws in it and then pulls himself up and over. Kelly put him back out there and watched him do it so he could learn the secrets of the master.
The pen debacle has now turned into a battle of wits between Martha and Houdini. More to come on that one...
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Wedding Plans
Well, the wedding plans are coming along OK. I thought I would write a little something about it since the whole ordeal is in two months and people ask me about it all the time. No, neither one of us are stressed out about it. Planning this is not difficult. We've actually had a lot of fun with it. I wish I would have decided to have someone else do the invitations rather than make it all myself, but that's fine. I wanted to make sure they were done right and didn't want someone else to mess them up. They'll be out in a couple days. Everything is basically scheduled and paid for, just waiting to show up on the day. Being a bride is nothing in the way of something to be scared, nervous, concerned or nervous over. Now, if everyone else would just calm down about it...
Monday, March 21, 2005
I Can Hold You Down And Save Your Life
Because of my new job working at a youth-in-crisis shelter, I am required to know first aid, CPR and how to restrain an individual. Today was my first aid and CPR training courses, which I passed with flying colors. Last week was my class on how to restrain people. Now I am officially certified in all three areas. That means I can certifiably restrain you while administering CPR and bandaging a severe wound all at the same time.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Maybe He's No Romeo
The other night, Kelly thought it would be nice to be sweet and romantic. Radley, however, had other plans. He thought it was time to play...And time to play rough. Kelly was trying to hard to ignore him, but that just seemed to encourage the pup. And then I was laughing because Radley was severely thwarting all Kelly's efforts by running between his legs and jumping up on him and licking his toes while he was trying to walk. So the romance didn't work out so well, but it was an enjoyable evening nonetheless.
(I'm going out on a limb here in finishing the song lyrics, since I usually get them wrong. Will someone let me know either way?)
Maybe he's no Romeo, but he's my lovin one man show. Oh, oh, oh, oh! Let's hear it for the boy!
(I'm going out on a limb here in finishing the song lyrics, since I usually get them wrong. Will someone let me know either way?)
Maybe he's no Romeo, but he's my lovin one man show. Oh, oh, oh, oh! Let's hear it for the boy!
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
One Measly Letter
Last Friday I received a letter offering me a job teaching English 101 at Boise State University on scholarship. I'm very excited about this.
Yesterday I received a letter offering me admittance to Boise State University. I expected this letter to come first, but I'm not going to argue with their methods. I'm very excited about this.
In December I asked a W&M prof to write me a letter of recommendation. This was after she had offered. I called. I emailed. I provided her with all necessary documents to write said letter, due February 1. She never mailed this letter. Now, the two letters I've received from Boise State may be null and void without it. Boise State is offering me a little extra time to get this in, but it's no excuse for this professor, who had two months time to do this for me. I'm not very excited about this.
Yesterday I received a letter offering me admittance to Boise State University. I expected this letter to come first, but I'm not going to argue with their methods. I'm very excited about this.
In December I asked a W&M prof to write me a letter of recommendation. This was after she had offered. I called. I emailed. I provided her with all necessary documents to write said letter, due February 1. She never mailed this letter. Now, the two letters I've received from Boise State may be null and void without it. Boise State is offering me a little extra time to get this in, but it's no excuse for this professor, who had two months time to do this for me. I'm not very excited about this.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Customer Service
In the last couple weeks, I have been trained for two "customer service" positions.
At Express they emphasize how we need to "do what's right for the customer." We need to assess their clothing needs and aid them into and out of the fitting rooms with the appropriate items, sizes and colors. If we're nice to them and provide a good shopping experience then they will leave happy and have a better day and come back later to see their new good friends at Express.
Bullshit.
That's all trashy, trashy propaganda sent down to the menial wage workers on the selling floor from corporate offices where the only concern is stock prices and amounts of sold merchandise. They know that if people are happy, they spend more. That makes them richer. And so through my labor figuring out peoples' sizes and rehanging endless piles of rejected clothing (compensated at a measly six dollars an hour), these high-up people-in-suits gain privileges in life. Like the privilege of owning a new BMW every year and a house with eight walk-in closets. But ah...first I have to be nice to the customer.
At Wells Fargo, they teach us at "Base Camp" that our primary goal is not to be a financial institution. We are not here to be everyone's banker first. Our company aims not at making money or increasing its customer base. No. Wells Fargo's first line of business is in trust. We are a company of trust. People must trust us before they will give us their business, and that begins with the people they see the most - the tellers. A teller must act as the primary line of defense for each customer against fraud and as the first line of communication from the company. We want them to know us, like us and trust us. If we know them we can help them to have a better day simply by being nice to them and providing them with a good banking experience.
Bullshit.
Once more...When people are happy, they spend more money. You trust people who are nice to you, even if they're scamming you because you're so enthralled with the fact that they're being nice to you that you don't stop to think that this nice person could be doing bad things with you or your money.
My new theory is that "customer service" is something created by corporations to ensure fat paychecks on top. I receive zero compensation by being nice to customers, really. They try the intrinsic reward system...You know..."You will feel better about your job when you know your customer's name." "You will enjoy working here more if you are personally invested."
"Customer service" is fake. I can be the nicest person to a customer even when I've had a shitty day, my feet hurt and I just want to go home. I'm lying to them by being nice, really.
I'm sick of everyone making such a big deal out of "customer service" because it's simply a ploy by big businesses to get the little guys to work harder for them. All the mall employees and servers in this nation could stop caring and just be themselves at work and people would still shop and eat out. When you deal with people in those situations, it's not so much the "customer service" that matters as much as it is how well you can handle the stress of said positions and the myriad ways people treat you like crap. Personal survival with a paycheck as the outcome. Nothing more.
At Express they emphasize how we need to "do what's right for the customer." We need to assess their clothing needs and aid them into and out of the fitting rooms with the appropriate items, sizes and colors. If we're nice to them and provide a good shopping experience then they will leave happy and have a better day and come back later to see their new good friends at Express.
Bullshit.
That's all trashy, trashy propaganda sent down to the menial wage workers on the selling floor from corporate offices where the only concern is stock prices and amounts of sold merchandise. They know that if people are happy, they spend more. That makes them richer. And so through my labor figuring out peoples' sizes and rehanging endless piles of rejected clothing (compensated at a measly six dollars an hour), these high-up people-in-suits gain privileges in life. Like the privilege of owning a new BMW every year and a house with eight walk-in closets. But ah...first I have to be nice to the customer.
At Wells Fargo, they teach us at "Base Camp" that our primary goal is not to be a financial institution. We are not here to be everyone's banker first. Our company aims not at making money or increasing its customer base. No. Wells Fargo's first line of business is in trust. We are a company of trust. People must trust us before they will give us their business, and that begins with the people they see the most - the tellers. A teller must act as the primary line of defense for each customer against fraud and as the first line of communication from the company. We want them to know us, like us and trust us. If we know them we can help them to have a better day simply by being nice to them and providing them with a good banking experience.
Bullshit.
Once more...When people are happy, they spend more money. You trust people who are nice to you, even if they're scamming you because you're so enthralled with the fact that they're being nice to you that you don't stop to think that this nice person could be doing bad things with you or your money.
My new theory is that "customer service" is something created by corporations to ensure fat paychecks on top. I receive zero compensation by being nice to customers, really. They try the intrinsic reward system...You know..."You will feel better about your job when you know your customer's name." "You will enjoy working here more if you are personally invested."
"Customer service" is fake. I can be the nicest person to a customer even when I've had a shitty day, my feet hurt and I just want to go home. I'm lying to them by being nice, really.
I'm sick of everyone making such a big deal out of "customer service" because it's simply a ploy by big businesses to get the little guys to work harder for them. All the mall employees and servers in this nation could stop caring and just be themselves at work and people would still shop and eat out. When you deal with people in those situations, it's not so much the "customer service" that matters as much as it is how well you can handle the stress of said positions and the myriad ways people treat you like crap. Personal survival with a paycheck as the outcome. Nothing more.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Contraband Grapes
Evidently, it is illegal to ship wine in the states.
Since the prohibition repeal 70 years ago, each state has developed its own system of laws surrounding sale, trade and consumption of alcohol. Well I knew that. But that includes wine. I guess I just always looked at wine as this innocent little drink from an elegant bottle. Not so. Wine is just as potentially devistating as Jose Cuervo, just as conceivably illicit as a Jack and Coke.
Well, there are some states with less stringent laws on the buying and selling of wine across borders. California and Idaho are two of them, which bodes well for a transaction to hopefully be taking place in my near future with a little Californian I know. However, there are a few states that maintain tighter controls on the grapey substance. For these states there is an organization called Free the Grapes!. Their website states that "Free the Grapes! is a national, grassroots coalition of consumers and wineries who seek to remove restrictions in 24 states that still prohibit consumers from purchasing wines directly from out-of-state wineries." Check out the website for a picture of the most pissed off grape ever.
I wonder...That grape is pissed off because it can't be sold across state borders and consumed without the aid of a corporation of sorts. Don't you think grapes would be more pissed off about being viciously ripped from the home of their vines, carelessly tossed into ugly wicker baskets, painfully crushed and stomped, combined with foreign ingredients, fermented, bottled and placed on a shelf? I think that would do it for me. Maybe it's pissed because it went through all that for nothing.
Either way, the picture is cool. And the grape is wearing shackles. I think grapes should wear shakles more frequently.
Since the prohibition repeal 70 years ago, each state has developed its own system of laws surrounding sale, trade and consumption of alcohol. Well I knew that. But that includes wine. I guess I just always looked at wine as this innocent little drink from an elegant bottle. Not so. Wine is just as potentially devistating as Jose Cuervo, just as conceivably illicit as a Jack and Coke.
Well, there are some states with less stringent laws on the buying and selling of wine across borders. California and Idaho are two of them, which bodes well for a transaction to hopefully be taking place in my near future with a little Californian I know. However, there are a few states that maintain tighter controls on the grapey substance. For these states there is an organization called Free the Grapes!. Their website states that "Free the Grapes! is a national, grassroots coalition of consumers and wineries who seek to remove restrictions in 24 states that still prohibit consumers from purchasing wines directly from out-of-state wineries." Check out the website for a picture of the most pissed off grape ever.
I wonder...That grape is pissed off because it can't be sold across state borders and consumed without the aid of a corporation of sorts. Don't you think grapes would be more pissed off about being viciously ripped from the home of their vines, carelessly tossed into ugly wicker baskets, painfully crushed and stomped, combined with foreign ingredients, fermented, bottled and placed on a shelf? I think that would do it for me. Maybe it's pissed because it went through all that for nothing.
Either way, the picture is cool. And the grape is wearing shackles. I think grapes should wear shakles more frequently.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Working Girl
I worked 50.5 hours this week, eight at Express and the rest at Wells Fargo. I know I said I never wanted to work for Wells ever again, but I was desperate for something so I applied and it was downhill from there. I work with some of the nicest women in Boise, so that makes it less bad.
I was also offered a position Thursday as a Youth Specialist in an in-home care facility through the Idaho Youth Ranch. The hours are lousy, but it isn't banking and is definitely more along the lines of what I want to do with my life. I think I'm going to balance that job with the bank and 86 Express.
Since I worked 50.5 hours this week I feel estranged in my own home. It's like I haven't been here in eight days. The only things I've done here lately are shower, dress and sleep. Kelly and I got to sleep in together this morning - the first time since we were in Portland two weeks ago - and we'll get to spend the whole day together (even if five hours of that will be at Public Television while he's working), also the first time since Portland. As I look around my house right now, I see the signs of neglect from two people who have been ON THE GO...random things left out on any random flat spot, unswept floors, mail piled on the kitchen counter, shoes tossed haphazardly to the outskirts of the room. Ah, the joys of working full time...
I was also offered a position Thursday as a Youth Specialist in an in-home care facility through the Idaho Youth Ranch. The hours are lousy, but it isn't banking and is definitely more along the lines of what I want to do with my life. I think I'm going to balance that job with the bank and 86 Express.
Since I worked 50.5 hours this week I feel estranged in my own home. It's like I haven't been here in eight days. The only things I've done here lately are shower, dress and sleep. Kelly and I got to sleep in together this morning - the first time since we were in Portland two weeks ago - and we'll get to spend the whole day together (even if five hours of that will be at Public Television while he's working), also the first time since Portland. As I look around my house right now, I see the signs of neglect from two people who have been ON THE GO...random things left out on any random flat spot, unswept floors, mail piled on the kitchen counter, shoes tossed haphazardly to the outskirts of the room. Ah, the joys of working full time...
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