(Written December 21, 2009)
The season is upon us! Yes, that wonderful time of year when we celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Or, for us non-Christians or non-delusionals...the time of year when we spend a shit ton of money on stuff for people who won't appreciate it. No no, I'm just kidding...that's not always the case, and truthfully...I LOVE CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!!!
Even though I didn't grow up in a home where we celebrated Christmas, it's still the most magical time of the year to me. I should mention that when I was a little girl my parents felt bad for my sister and I so they psuedo-celebrated Christmas. They didn't want us to feel left out when all our friends were getting presents so they used to buy us a few presents to open on christmas day when we were very young. I should also mention that although we did put up Christmas lights outside, we did NOT have a Christmas tree. Soooo...our presents, that we wouldn run to find on Christmas morning...were under the dining room table. Yep...dining room table. But hey, it had a long table cloth on it so they were totally concealed. Don't judge.
Anyway, I just started my Christmas shopping today...four days before Christmas. I woke up and headed straight to Target.* I walked through the automatic doors expecting the worst: chaos, long lines, a dwindling inventory, but instead found the store to be fairly quiet and pretty normal. I got the few things on my list and was out of the store in 30 minutes. Could this be a sign of what's to come for the rest of my holiday shopping? Has the recession slowed Christmas again this year?
A few errands later and now after 12:00 noon...I figured Beachwood Place would be just as quiet as Target, if not quieter. Until I went into Banana Republic. And walked out of Banana Republic. I'm sorry...but no sweater is worth waiting in a 6 mile line for. Not even a cashmere blend, baby soft, fits like a glove, dream sweater that's 50% off. Ok, so I went back and bought the sweater. And ok, so it was for me...but I hid it under some full price menswear until I could come back when the line to pay was shorter. Experience people. I call that experience!
By the end of day one...I had no one completely off my list. I did however, have a great new outfit to wear for shopping day number two.
*Mecca
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The Birthday Blog
So, yesterday was my birthday...
I HATE EFFING BIRTHDAYS! And no, not in the "God, I'm getting old and can't deal with it" kind of way, but in the "I have such high expectations of my birthday that anything short of Oprah throwing me a surprise party on national television will be a letdown" sort of way.
I don't know why I do this to myself. I have plans to go out and celebrate with all of my friends on Friday, but in the mean time I'm so disappointed by my actual birthday. Of course, I should have known that a Monday wouldn't be the most happenin time to celebrate my big 2-7, but somehow I still expected fireworks. Doesn't the mayor know how important I am? Shouldn't all of my friends have the day off of work so they can celebrate with me the whole entire day?
I even took off of work. I mean, I didn't really have plans but the idea of working on my birthday is inherently depressing. What a disasterous idea that was. I slept in til about noon...watched Sex and the City in bed until about two o'clock, and didn't even leave the house until almost three! I had hopes of going to the art museum by myself and wandering the halls a la Carrie Bradshaw when she was "dating her city"...but of fricking course, the art museum is closed on Mondays! FML.
All in all, I went out to eat at a couple great restaurants and had a few cocktails. It was an above average day for a Monday, yet I was still talking myself down from a ledge. After 27 years, I still expect a parade and fireworks on December 14th every year. Perhaps its time I actually grow up and just be happy for what I do have...even if it is my birthday.
Ahh, who am I kidding? I'll be pissed until Friday.
I HATE EFFING BIRTHDAYS! And no, not in the "God, I'm getting old and can't deal with it" kind of way, but in the "I have such high expectations of my birthday that anything short of Oprah throwing me a surprise party on national television will be a letdown" sort of way.
I don't know why I do this to myself. I have plans to go out and celebrate with all of my friends on Friday, but in the mean time I'm so disappointed by my actual birthday. Of course, I should have known that a Monday wouldn't be the most happenin time to celebrate my big 2-7, but somehow I still expected fireworks. Doesn't the mayor know how important I am? Shouldn't all of my friends have the day off of work so they can celebrate with me the whole entire day?
I even took off of work. I mean, I didn't really have plans but the idea of working on my birthday is inherently depressing. What a disasterous idea that was. I slept in til about noon...watched Sex and the City in bed until about two o'clock, and didn't even leave the house until almost three! I had hopes of going to the art museum by myself and wandering the halls a la Carrie Bradshaw when she was "dating her city"...but of fricking course, the art museum is closed on Mondays! FML.
All in all, I went out to eat at a couple great restaurants and had a few cocktails. It was an above average day for a Monday, yet I was still talking myself down from a ledge. After 27 years, I still expect a parade and fireworks on December 14th every year. Perhaps its time I actually grow up and just be happy for what I do have...even if it is my birthday.
Ahh, who am I kidding? I'll be pissed until Friday.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
The Hundred Dollar Man
So, as many of you may know already...I happen to be making my living as a bartender during this rough economic climate. It's been pretty lucrative and other than the abnormal hours, I can't complain too much about the job overall. What I will say is that by the time last call rolls around...I tend to hate everyone that comes within eyesight. That is, until tonight...
I had a group of four people at the end of my bar toward the end of the night. The gentlemen who appeared to be the youngest in the group took charge and ordered a few expensive bottles of wine. They had a few appetizers and were a pretty low maintenance bunch. I gave the check to the younger gentleman when he asked for it...ran his credit card...said thank you and goodbye and sent them on their way.
Well, a few minutes later one of my coworkers who was helping me clean off the bar came over with the signed receipt and said to me "well aren't you the cats meow?"
"Why yes I am." is what I wanted to say, but it occured to me I should ask why she would randomly say that to me. My question was answered when I looked at the receipt. The gentleman's tab was $185...HE TIPPED ME $100!!! Holy shit! Someone has finally realized my worth and given me the gratitude I deserve! Well, that's sort of what I thought, but mostly I was flabbergasted, overwhelmed, and somehow even a little embarassed. And no...he never hit on me or flirted or did anything other than drink his wine and eat his pommes frites.
The point is..that man made my night and reminded me that some people are really just kind and wonderful. I hope to be able to pay it forward one day...but in the meantime...there is a pair of bcbg max azria pumps with my name on them.
I'm off to bed for now. So, goodnight everyone...and remember- tip your bartenders!
I had a group of four people at the end of my bar toward the end of the night. The gentlemen who appeared to be the youngest in the group took charge and ordered a few expensive bottles of wine. They had a few appetizers and were a pretty low maintenance bunch. I gave the check to the younger gentleman when he asked for it...ran his credit card...said thank you and goodbye and sent them on their way.
Well, a few minutes later one of my coworkers who was helping me clean off the bar came over with the signed receipt and said to me "well aren't you the cats meow?"
"Why yes I am." is what I wanted to say, but it occured to me I should ask why she would randomly say that to me. My question was answered when I looked at the receipt. The gentleman's tab was $185...HE TIPPED ME $100!!! Holy shit! Someone has finally realized my worth and given me the gratitude I deserve! Well, that's sort of what I thought, but mostly I was flabbergasted, overwhelmed, and somehow even a little embarassed. And no...he never hit on me or flirted or did anything other than drink his wine and eat his pommes frites.
The point is..that man made my night and reminded me that some people are really just kind and wonderful. I hope to be able to pay it forward one day...but in the meantime...there is a pair of bcbg max azria pumps with my name on them.
I'm off to bed for now. So, goodnight everyone...and remember- tip your bartenders!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Single Lady Boots
As it turns out, I'm not meant to celebrate my birthday with a significant other this year either. Yes, my birthday is approaching (Monday, December 14th...contact me for an address where gifts can be mailed).
The good news is, Jason got me the boots I have been drooling over since I "accidentally tried them on at Bloomingdale's in Chicago. So...I think I will wear these while I dance alone all week...try and stop me.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Guidos & Guidettes
I am currently watching "Jersey Shore" on MTV.
How is it humanly possible that so many people...so close to the fashion capital of the world...could be such an aesthetic disaster?! I am absolutely horrified. Is there some kind of bubble surrounding Staten Island?
This "Snooki" broad has somehow managed to completely avoid using a "bump-it" and with shear will power has managed to create the largest, Fran Drescher-inspired mountain on top of her otherwise empty head.
If one of these bozo dudes attempted to talk to me I think I would actually become ill.
I have comments about each of these over-tan mush mouth fools, but I think this Blog has a word maximum. Thank you MTV for making me appreciate the men of Cleveland. Hell, thank you for making me appreciate the men of Saudi Arabia.
How is it humanly possible that so many people...so close to the fashion capital of the world...could be such an aesthetic disaster?! I am absolutely horrified. Is there some kind of bubble surrounding Staten Island?
This "Snooki" broad has somehow managed to completely avoid using a "bump-it" and with shear will power has managed to create the largest, Fran Drescher-inspired mountain on top of her otherwise empty head.
If one of these bozo dudes attempted to talk to me I think I would actually become ill.
I have comments about each of these over-tan mush mouth fools, but I think this Blog has a word maximum. Thank you MTV for making me appreciate the men of Cleveland. Hell, thank you for making me appreciate the men of Saudi Arabia.
Dogs Judge Too
While I waited for my bestie Jason to get out of work, I decided to take his lovely lab Coco for a walk. Let me just tell you...she is the sweetest, most mild-mannered chocolate lab, and walking her is always a relaxing experience. Or it always WAS a relaxing experience.
Apparently Coco, being the diva that she is, and being the dog of two even bigger divas (Jason and Bryan), expects everyone else to be just as fabulous as she is. This became apparent when a poorly dressed, plump woman* stepped out of her car just as we were passing. Miss Coco lost her shit. I have rarely even heard this dog bark, let alone release the killer-dog raging growl that emanated from her cute little face.
The good news is...I'm not the only bitch in town.
*Fat slob in sweatpants who hadn't brushed her hair since the Bush administration.
Apparently Coco, being the diva that she is, and being the dog of two even bigger divas (Jason and Bryan), expects everyone else to be just as fabulous as she is. This became apparent when a poorly dressed, plump woman* stepped out of her car just as we were passing. Miss Coco lost her shit. I have rarely even heard this dog bark, let alone release the killer-dog raging growl that emanated from her cute little face.
The good news is...I'm not the only bitch in town.
*Fat slob in sweatpants who hadn't brushed her hair since the Bush administration.
Will They Read?
It seems appropriate that I would start my blogging here in Columbus and not at "home" in Cleveland. Columbus has been the epicenter of my Quarterlife Crisis. If you're not familiar with the phenomenon...it's the notion that after college, when a lot of us have to cut the umbilical cord of our structured lifestyles, we have a hard time figuring out exactly who the hell we are and what we want to do for the rest of our lives.
So join me, as I spend my days asking myself that very question..."What am I going to do for the rest of my life?" Followed with the ever more pressing matter of, "What shoes should I wear?"
I should mention that I'm an unemployed attorney, licensed in the state of Ohio. Translation: I paid too much money for a career that hasn't started yet.
So join me, as I spend my days asking myself that very question..."What am I going to do for the rest of my life?" Followed with the ever more pressing matter of, "What shoes should I wear?"
I should mention that I'm an unemployed attorney, licensed in the state of Ohio. Translation: I paid too much money for a career that hasn't started yet.
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