Really, I don’t have it THAT bad I guess…

There are some really wonky weird reasons why working where I do isn’t all that great. Without digging my own unemployment grave, I’ll just say that I work my arse off and do a damn good job and for some reason I am picked on because I stand up for myself. Also, half the staff here could drop off the face of the earth and we’d go on truckin’ just fine…

But, when I come home day after day pouring myself a HUGE glass of wine and feeling/complaining like “the man” doesn’t appreciate me; Jim always reminds me of the fact  that the people I actually work directly for, are extraordinary.

This week is Employee Appreciation week, likely prompted by Secretary’s Administrative Professionals day which was yesterday. We got cute little tokens, a warm breakfast and a bangin’ lunch…and tomorrow there’s an ice cream social! I really do feel well fed appreciated. BUT in a quick chit chat with the over 30 other “Administrative Professionals” during yesterday’s lunch, I realized that I am nearly the only one in the office whose actual boss (bosses, for me - see “work my arse off” comment above) took them out to lunch and was told (over and over) how wonderful I am and how lucky they are to have me.

In my profession, you have to be totally ok with being someone’s bitch for 8 hours a day. We are overpaid paper pushers and we do what our bosses tell us, damnit. And that’s what I do. No matter the request. But, the 5 people I work directly under are some of the most considerate, encouraging, hilarious and empathetic people I know…and I hope they know how much I appreciate them. 

While I am going to (hopefully) really enjoy my career transition into being a teacher in a few short years, I will never forget how much these 5 people make me feel like my hard work is worth it every single day.

REALLY??

You know that SNL skit, Weekend Update? You know the bit called: REALLY?? With Seth and Amy? I love that bit (and all of Weekend Update) because it is so true. For example: General Motors flew private jets to request a bailout. REALLY?

This weekend I had a few of those moments…so, here’s my (written) attempt at REALLY?? With Nuckelbery:

When I was checking out at my local ShopKo, the grungy teenager helping me was going a tad slow but hey, it’s ShopKo. I give him my cash and as he is typing it into the register he reaches into his back pocket and fetches his cell phone. Still clutching my cash in his right hand, he flips open his cell phone and TEXTS with his left hand. He sent a freaking text message in the middle of my transaction. REALLY?

I was perusing the shoes at the Nordstrom Rack when I heard a very loud banging. I could see some baby legs swinging in and out of view in the next aisle over and I could tell it was a child banging his feet against the shopping cart. His (grandmother?) in the darkest, thickest eyeliner I have ever seen pushes him and her cart into my aisle. The kid is still banging his feet, and he is also reaching for shit on the shelves. As they pass me, he reaches for (on purpose) and slaps, my left breast! Open mouthed and shocked I stare after them as they continue to push on by and (grandma?) says, “that was not nice! you say sorry to that lady right now!” but, they’re now turning the corner…REALLY?

An adorable little girl about 5 years old is in the car part of those really cool shopping carts/cars that I wish existed when I was a kid. As I am bending down to snag some turmeric off the bottom row of the spices (yeah, I was buying turmeric, I know, I sound so cool) the little girl whispers, “psssst, psssst!” and I look over and she waves and whispers, “hi!”. I wave and whisper back and am all caught up in the adorableness of it all. As I begin to stand back up to leave I smile at her and she tugs on my jacket and says “wait! wait!” she then motions for me to lean down and she whispers, “I love you.” I smile and stand up to face a rather unkempt, obese (grandmother?) who is simultaneously talking rather loudly on her cell phone and giving me a look that says, “what the hell were you just doing down there with my child?” I say, “your child was just telling me that she loves me.” The woman gives me a smile and a shrug that says, “oh, kids!” and goes on blabbing on the phone. Not ten minutes later I pass them again in a different aisle and hear (grandma?) totally yelling at the adorable little girl and getting all chicken head saying, “what did I telllll you about that? I told you not to talk to people that way!” And the little girl is looking down at her hands saying “I'm sorry, I'm sorry”. Really? Your little girl made the day of a childless 20 something out for some turmeric and your screaming at her? REALLY?

Sh*t Bobbe Says

I’ve never actually read the blog (oops, according to Wikipedia it is a Twitter account, my bad)  Shit My Dad Says, nor have I watched the sitcom that came out of it but I always thought it was a good idea. I mean, we all have some pretty hilarious people in our lives…hence my Jimism posts. Why not share the wealth, right?

I was talking to my grandma, Bobbe a few weeks ago because it was her 80th birthday, and she was cracking me up with some excellent one liners…which made me realize she always has excellent one liners. Here are a few that she’s blessed me with over the last few months:

“And my mother said, ‘Don’t you worry, Bobbe when he gets done shoveling all those driveways, he’ll be too tired to consummate the marriage’” – on her mother’s last words to her as she prepared to walk down the (snowy) aisle to marry my grandpa. (Sidenote: obviously this was in context with discussing my own upcoming nuptials which makes it all the more funny).

“Did you poop? You did?! Did you weigh yourself after?” – on when I was so nervous about my wedding shower I was constipated (until she gave me some laxatives).

“You did? Well, when does he get here?” – her response to my telling her we sent her a birthday gift.

“Stay on! STAY ON BABY!” – what I am hearing from the hall bathroom while I do my makeup and she watches the Rodeo on T.V.

“Cheers everyone! Remember to cheers every person at the table or your penis will fall off!” – Bobbe says this nearly every time we go out to dinner…the second half is always said much quieter and usually to whoever is sitting nearest.

And my all time favorite (from several years ago):

“There was this really cute guy in the show with dark skin and I couldn’t figure out what his nationality was. After he took his clothes off and faced the audience that’s when I realized, he was black!” - when she told me about her experience seeing the play: Take Me Out (which she claims she didn’t know had full frontal nudity).

Yes, that gorgeous woman just turned 80, folks!

I Almost Killed Molly and The Art of Testicular Exams

Yes, those two things happened this past weekend.

On Saturday morning (after an amazing evening at The Bayou with my friend from PRE-SCHOOL) Molly was incredibly sluggish. We had to literally drag her out of bed to eat…and she didn’t even finish! She also had a pee accident in the night. We tried to take her for a walk and she was too sluggish to even sniff every single freaking blade of grass. Something was up. We took her to the vet and they took blood and urine for $250.

That afternoon Molly had at least ten accidents on the kitchen floor. And she was drinking water like a mo fo. By the evening, she was getting better and so I started to think that maybe it was something she ate. As I am snacking on some green grapes it dawns on me: I shared some green grapes with Molly on Wednesday night! A quick Google search reveals that I might have just killed my dog.

Grapes are incredibly toxic to a dog’s kidneys and liver and as little as 5 grapes can cause renal failure. I cried for a solid 15 minutes after I found this out praying to a god that I am not even sure exists to not take my baby from me. We seriously hope that this is out of her system but are scheduled to take more blood and urine for an additional $250 next week to determine if I caused any permanent damage.

So, don’t feed your dogs grapes…actually, don’t feed them onions, avocado, nuts, chocolate or caffeine either. It’ll cost you at least $500 and possibly a dead dog.

After scraping me off of the office floor, Jim took me to Tessa and Mark’s for a fabulous and mood lifting homemade dinner, full strength Fat Tire and great company. At some point during the night self breast exams were discussed. Likely because Tessa, Stacey and I are all pretty good at doing this regularly. We then somehow started on the importance of self testicular exams for the men given their ages right now. A mere five minutes and a Youtube video later I am showing the table how to examine their testicles using a plastic bag and two small limes.

We all had a good laugh but I hope that Jim, Paul and Mark got the underlying message: it’s all fun and games until you need to get a testicle removed. Or, until your testes become as big as limes. Or, until Jim starts taking video of the whole thing and threatens to post it on Facebook… 

We took turns passing the testes around. Stop laughing, this is serious!

An Amazing Wedding And The More PC Term For 'Special'

Over the weekend we attended the reception of our dear friends Rich and Hilary who eloped this past August.  This couple is especially dear to me because they met, fell in love, got engaged and married very quickly like Jim and I did. And with that kind of speed, you deal with some serious personal growth all at once that can be stifling. Hilary made me feel so normal (and I think I made her feel normal) during this growing phase…but enough about that! Cheers to a long life together, and for having the awesome idea of eloping and putting on a badass reception later.



How incredibly gorgeous is her outfit? You should see their house, so much timeless vintage. Amazing



So, I’m not at the reception ten minutes when I go to the bar (that’s not the point) and a man tells me that I look gorgeous. I know it is incredibly hard to believe but, I don’t think that’s ever happened to me. So I smile, say thank you and run off to find Jim and brag about it. Well, Jim is needed for pictures so I go to our table and settle in. Bar-man (as we will initially call him) appears about ten minutes later flanked by what I can only assume is a supporter (err, wingman) and says, “what I wanted to say was, I think you’re really beautiful and would like to take you out on a date”. ‼‼! I contain my excitement and say, “I am very flattered, but I am engaged”. He then says something like, “oh, ok enjoy your weekend then” which I thought was slightly odd but whatever.

Jim finally comes over and I gush to him about how I am the hottest girl in the room according to someone other than him! I point out the guy (who is now behind the DJ booth) and Jim says, “oh, Omar Muhamed?” Huh? You know him? “Yeah, I saw that guy while I was lighting candles outside and he came up to me and introduced himself. I said I was pleased to meet him and said, ‘see you inside, Omar’ to which he responded, ‘Omar Muhamed, that’s my first name’ and walked away.” Shit. So what your saying is, I just got asked out by the special guy? Jim says, “I think so, but at least he’s a good looking special guy.” DAMNIT. I never get hit on and now I can’t even brag that it happened despite my huge rock on my finger cause I am THAT desirable.

I turn to Steph and regurgitate what just went down. She says, “um, I think mentally retarded or, MR is the more PC term. Oh look, he’s hitting on that girl behind you.”

Later in the night, both Stephanie and our friend Courtney are hit on by MR Omar Muhamed as well as countless other ladies. Rich even brought it up at one point during the night to point out how hilarious it all was. Nice.

Good thing we still had an amazing time despite MR taking the wind out of my sails.

Fine. Megan, Traci, Emily and everyoneelseintheworld: you win, Target may have been a bad idea.

When we (I) decided to register at Target it was for these simple reasons: it isn’t overpriced, we have one in Utah, and it seems to offer everything we would need and then some. Several friends warned me against this idea not because any of the above-mentioned reasons were wrong, but because the folks over at Target kind of suck.

I should have seen this right away. When we printed out our newly scanner-gunned registry there were a few things missing and a few things cryptic. No worries, I thought, I’ll just fix this online when I get home. So I am *pretty* sure I was able to remember the things that weren’t listed when I got home and onto Target.com but the cryptic crap made no sense to me. Whatever. If I need it, I’ll buy it myself.

About a week ago I received an (adorable) email from Target stating:

Dear Dawn-marie and Jim,

In a good relationship, you tell each other everything. That's why we wanted to let you know right away that some of the items on your registry are no longer available or have very limited quantities. But don't worry—we've got you covered. Chances are these items were seasonal, or they've been replaced with the latest and greatest styles you'll love even more.

Totally cute, right? So it indicates that an item number and/or description would be listed below. HAHAHA! Here is what was “below”:

Item Number

Item Description

That’s it, folks.

But, there is a number I can call! After asking me to spell my last name a bazillion times, and asking my when my baby was due twice we finally got onto the same page. But, because there was no item number/description in the email, and none on my actual registry, there is nothing she can do. And she is, so sorry about that, ma’am. If I still had the printout from when I made my registry (which was so 2010) she said I could just compare and find out what was missing. So I said, “first, I don’t have that, it printed out all cryptic. Second, if I did, that would still be incredibly inconvenient. You mean to tell me that there is NO way to find out what I zapped with my scanner thing that is no longer available?” yes, ma’am. JC.

Does that sound ridiculous to anyone else? I mean, I work for a patent law practice, folks. I know the technology is out there for this shit.

Did I forget to mention that they failed to remove the tea kettle (twice) from the registry and completely lost TWO target gift cards that my mother in law (to be) sent us for our shower gift? If it weren’t for the Bissell Pet Hair Remover and my (two!) Cuisinart, I’d have gone postal.