Monday, April 26, 2010

Bring on the travel trauma!

OK, I haven't blogged about travel in awhile.

However, that's about to change.

This week I will travel to Salt Lake City and next week to my FAVORITE city....oh yeah...let's hear it for New York! Concrete jungle where dreams are made of, there's nothing you can't do!

Sadly, the NYC trip is a quick 1.5 day deal for work (as is Salt Lake City, well, for work but a little longer) but a trip to the Big Apple is always energizing!

With all this travel there will inevitably be issues - delayed or missed flights, getting stuck in the middle seat on the plane (or worse, getting stuck next to the 400 lb man on the plane), bad cab drivers, spotting real life polygamists like in "Big Love" (in SLC), etc.

Stay tuned! And for some old classic Jen travel blogs, check out the archives from '07 and '08. When you travel as much as I have (and still do) there's always a story to tell!

Friday, April 23, 2010

Of Mice and Wigs...and Bottle Caps?

An update on the "Wiggy" situation:

A source tells me it is quite possible the "slut mouse" she spotted in her room could actually be a bottle cap.

It's true. Apparently, when our co-worker went to her home to set the mouse traps, a bottle cap was laying on the floor in the exact spot where she said she saw the mouse. His theory? She moved something and the cap rolled across the floor.

Is this a possibility? Perhaps.

"Wiggy" is a tad paranoid when it comes to mice, having lived in mouse infested houses before. Last time she had a mouse (in a different rental house) she actually contemplated adopting a cat. If you knew "Wiggy" you would understand how she truly loathes cats (and dogs and all animals) and how being a cat owner would go against everything she stands for.

Of course, later she confessed she was hoping to adopt the cat, have it kill the mouse, and then send it packing.

Could "Wiggy" have jumped to a conclusion when she saw "something" move across her floor? Since she told me the "slut mouse" was giving her the stink eye, I'd like to believe she did indeed she a real live mouse and not an errant bottle cap.

However, all those peanut butter filled traps at her house remain empty.....

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Of Mice and Wigs

Less than one week ago, "Wiggy" was in her bedroom getting dressed for work when suddenly, she spotted a creature staring at her. She has no pets, and it wasn't a peeping squirrel or anything. It was a "mother f**king mouse" (her words). As a hater of all things furry, mice especially, "Wiggy" wigged out.

A male co-worker went to her house that day and set some traps and blocked the vents in her room (apparently "Wiggy" is not concerned about carbon monoxide - just mice). Despite the traps and mouse-proofing, "Wiggy" has refused to go back in to her bedroom since that fateful morning.

As her friend I took pity on her and offered to come to her house and investigate the trap situation and retrieve any items she may need from her bedroom, which is being held hostage by that "slut mouse" (again, her words, not mine).

Upon my arrival, we consumed some wine and strategized my plan of attack. Convinced the mouse was living the life of luxury in her bedroom, "Wiggy" and I had a discussion about where the mouse may have possibly taken up residence. Suddenly, I saw the light bulb go off in her head.

"That mother f**ker is living in my wig tub," she said with all sincerity and a defiant look in her eyes.

"Wiggy" keeps a tub of "old jacked up wigs" - "just in case." The problem is, the tub had no lid, and therefore, could possibly have been an excellent place for a mouse to nest.

My assignment was clear, in order to help "Wiggy" try to re-claim her bedroom, I needed to go in there, check the traps, retrieve her clothing (ALL of it) and along the way, shake each item out to ensure a) a mouse wouldn't fall out and b) mouse droppings wouldn't fall out. Did I mention when I said ALL of her clothing that included a giant pile of dirty clothing on the floor of the closet that spilled onto the top of the wig tub? Oh yeah, the wig tub, I almost forgot. I would need to search that damn wig tub too!

"Wiggy" gave me a pair of rubber gloves, some garbage bags and wished me luck. She couldn't handle the sight of me sorting through her stuff because she believed with every fiber of her being that "slut mouse" would scurry out at any point in time.

I checked all the clothing and stuffed it all in to garbage bags (so it could all be washed at some point in time)....and then it came time for the wigs. The wigs freaked me out because as I started to dig through the tub I convinced myself a mouse could quite possibly have taken up residence among the acrylic locks of hair.

"Wiggy" agreed the best course of action would be to throw away all the old wigs anyway. She has totally upgraded to a different type of wig (that I cannot tell you about or she will kill me) made of real hair so she's much less flammable then she used to be and therefore, doesn't need her old wig stash.

Anyway, before I could stuff the wigs into the "toss" bag, I had to retrieve one "back up wig" for her. She insisted it had to have bangs. And it was "just in case." The woman has many, many, many other wigs...so I wasn't sure why I had to spare one of these "lesser" wigs but I did.

Clothing and wigs packed up, I thought my task was complete. "Wiggy" even brought herself to enter the room after I confirmed spotting no evidence of a mouse.

She took two pillows off her bed. She told me she had been sleeping on the couch for the last five days and didn't even have pillows (that's how scared she was of the "slut mouse").

"Wiggy" was feeling better about life but then she thought of one thing in her bedroom she couldn't possibly live without...one thing the mouse could have "contaminated."

The one thing? Her "special box."

I won't elaborate on the "special box" if you are a woman, single or otherwise, I think you know what I am referring to...a grown up toy box....and if you don't get what I'm telling you, well, I don't know what to say.

"'Wiggy's' special box" is a K-Swiss box she stores under her bed ("Easy access," she said). As she pulled it out, she suddenly looked sick, and expressed how angry she would be if that "slut mouse" made a nest amidst her battery operated toys. Oh, the irony. I guess if the mouse is a slut, as she likes to say it is, then this would be an appropriate place for it to nest!

Unable to bring herself to open the box, she made me do it. I opened it and, seeing no evidence of a mouse, I quickly closed it. The whole thing was a little traumatizing, I must admit.

Once I confirmed the coast was clear, she swept the "special box" up and into her arms.

So, there she was - after all of that - a woman with her basic necessities - a jacked up back up wig, two pillows and her "special box."

As I drove away, all I could think was, "I missed 'Lost' for THIS?"

Monday, April 19, 2010

These are the people in my neighborhood....

I promised not to blog about running, however, my neighborhood is so crazy I often find inspiration for my blog while running. So, if you don't like it, I say (in the words of the brilliant Kathy Griffin) "suck it."

My neighborhood used to be "the Polish neighborhood" and, well, it still sort of is, but like many other urban neighborhoods it is diverse - difference races, classes and ages. And I like that. I grew up in a homogenous suburb and it was so freaking boring. No one has yet been able to convince me why suburbs are so great (but please keep trying so I can make fun of you at a later date and time).

Today I encountered more craziness than usual while hanging out in my 'hood. Sadly, much of what I encountered illustrate class and cultural stereotypes and made me wonder if the people perpetuating this are even aware or care.

Shortly after the one mile mark I encountered a group of redneck teenagers working on a pickup truck. They all stopped to stare at me. It was really creepy and made me run faster. I kept waiting for one of them to bust out a Confederate flag to beat me with or something. These rednecks were hanging next door to a house where normally, as I run by, two or three small black men usually yell something at me that involves the word "shawty." I don't know where my "shawty" friends were tonight - I suspect they were making purchases at the party store across the street. They are less creepy than the redneck teenagers. Plus, they make me wonder if they need good optometrists. I have never been short/small/petite and, in fact, I am larger than all of them. I realize "shawty" or "shortie" is a term of endearment but, guess what fellas, you just sound silly yelling it at a tall, fat white girl.

The Dairy Queen sits close to mile marker number two on my run. Talk about temptation! I must say I feel superior running past as people stuff their faces with ice cream (though I LOVE ice cream). Today, I witnessed a group of Latinos treating a Jeep Liberty like a clown car. Seriously, there were six adults and three small children. The children definitely were small enough to need to ride in booster seats so I am not sure how they made it work, but somehow, all but one of them had piled in by the time I passed them by. I've been involved with overstuffing a car with people (once in college we broke an axle on a sorority sister's car it was so "overstuffed!"), so I am not one to judge. It made for something interesting to watch as a wheezed into the second mile of my run.

My mind was still trying to figure out the logistics of the Jeep Liberty clown car when I saw two elderly people walking toward me. Though they were sporting matching windbreakers, they weren't exactly jogging or even walking at a brisk pace. As I approached, I expected the old man to move behind his lady friend so there would be room for us to pass each other. Not so much. They "stayed the course" as if we were playing a game of chicken and I nearly took out grandma.

Finally, in the home stretch of the run, I was thinking about how my friend "Wiggy" better appreciate that I am running on a day I should be resting so I can make a trip over to her house after work tomorrow to check on the status of her mouse situation (this is a teaser for tomorrow, folks! I expect some good material to come from this as "Wiggy" hates any furry creatures and has already called the mouse in her house a "mother f**ker" and a "slut")..when suddenly....a car came speeding up the street. As it approached me, the passenger rolled down the windows and suddenly I saw a person with a pony tail and heard high pitched "woo hooing" and cat calling from the car. Women? I am now being cat called by women? Maybe it was the visor I was wearing that screamed Billie Jean King or something?

All of this convinced me I really need to find a new running route. One can only take so much heckling. It's tough enough for a fat girl to get out there and run...but to be sexually harassed by men and now women too? Enough is enough!

Maybe the 'burbs aren't looking so bad after all....

Monday, April 12, 2010

Who do you think you are, Dave Ramsey?

Today I noticed a bumper sticker on a car in a driveway in my neighborhood: Debt Free & Lovin' It!

Then, of course, it lists Dave Ramsey's web site.

After a little research I realized some bozo in my neighborhood PAID $5 for this thing!


In fact, Dave Ramsey has a whole section of what can be described as nothing less than crap on his web site: $25 coupon organizers, T-shirts and designer envelope systems (whatever those are).

So not only are people paying too much money to listen to him tell them how to spend their money (starting, of course, with paying to attend the seminar and buying books and CDs - just don't charge them on your credit card) - they are also spending hard earned money on chotchkies?!

Am I the only one who thinks this is wrong? I mean, he is enabling the behavior he scorns, right?

Kiss it, Dave Ramsey. I don't know much about you but based on his bumper sticker indicdent you have totally offended me.

I'll keep my credit card debt, thank you very much!

And I would never be caught dead in a Dave Ramsey T-shirt.






Monday, April 5, 2010

Everywhere I go, there you are

My friends and I seem to have people in our lives that, no matter how much we try to avoid them, just keep showing up. They're like toilet paper stuck to the bottom of our shoes (annoying), or road construction in Michigan in the summer (impossible to avoid).

Two such people made appearances in the last 48 hours.

Person number one is someone my friends and I refer to as Big Head Little Dog.

Big Head Little Dog came in to our lives via E-Harmony. When all my single girlfriends in the area were matched with this guy, we all realized: 1. E-Harmony's "matching" system is full of crap (it's all about geography - it's not about 57.5 dimensions of compatibility or whatever lies they tell in their commercials) and 2. We had seen this guy before -  he's "that guy" with the big head who we've all spotted one time or another walking a little dog in the condo complex of one of said friends (hence, his nickname).

An interesting twist came about when yet another friend was not only matched with him, she went out with him a few times. Fortunately for her, she could not get over how ridiculously large his head is and moved on to better suitors.

For real, people, this guy has a total pumpkin head.

Anyway, my poor friend who had the misfortune to go out with Big Head Little Dog a few times sees this guy everywhere. He makes it really awkward, because he likes to pretend they don't know one another. I could write PAGES of stories of what my friends and I call "Big Head Little Dog sightings," but I will refrain. Trust me when I say, we see this guy everywhere.

This friend who "dated" Big Head Little Dog (she would prefer I use the term "dated" loosely since, as she said today, they "never even rode in a car together" - it wasn't exactly what one would call a "relationship"), spotted him and his fiancĂ©e (apparently if you are a man and you stay on E-Harmony long enough you can find true love, even if you have a ridiculously large head) at church on Easter and, of course, on the way out of church they all ran smack dead into one another and awkwardness ensued.

Person number two is someone I run in to constantly. I'd prefer to never run in to her. In this case, the piece of toilet paper stuck to my shoe is a former co-worker who hates me. I have a nickname for her (because, according to a sorority sister, I have a nickname for everyone). It involves her first name which I would prefer not to share. To protect her identity I will just call her "Mean (Name)."

I suppose I am "that person" Mean (Name) just irrationally hates for no apparent reason. I was always nice to her (and I am not nice to everyone) and we actually have quite a bit in common but for whatever reason, she hates me and she's not afraid to show it.

Mean (Name) actually tried to destroy my career with my current organization by bad-mouthing me to everyone and anyone who would listen. Thankfully, most people realized she was just full of hot air and while I got promoted (repeatedly) her career stalled out and she eventually left the organization.

Despite her new career path, I see Mean (Name) everywhere!

I've run in to her at festivals, bars, parades - you name it. I even ran in to her one time at a concert - across the state. And it is always awkward.

Let's be real - when you know someone hates you, it is really uncomfortable when you have to look that individual in the eye and try to have a civil conversation.

Tonight I ran in to this individual again and while it was the least awkward of all my encounters with her in recent years, it was still painful and uncomfortable.

Why do I keep running in to someone who hates me? Why does my friend keep running in to Big Head Little Dog? (I often see Big Head Little Dog around town - since we don't know one another I enjoy it because I am able to report back the sighting with no awkwardness). Is this some sort of cruel cosmic joke? Maybe the universe trying to keep us in check? Or, maybe the universe trying to give us a good laugh?

All I know is - this town is just not that big and it won't be long before I see both of them again!