Memoirs of a Perfectly Ordinary Girl

Here we go again.

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 02:53:57 GMT

Well, my three day conference a couple weeks ago was a major wake up call to me. I was pulled out of the workshop on the third morning and admonished for not being enthusiastic enough. I was accused of bringing people down. This was completely ridiculous and I said so. First of all, I know for a fact that there were many other people there who thought the whole conference was as pointless and stupid as I did. I know because during breaks and lunch we discussed it. They just didn't say so out loud to the facilitators. Secondly, I seriously doubt that of the few people there who were into it, any of them were going home at night, shaking their fists at the heavens and crying, "If only that girl Bea weren't here, I would be gaining so much more from this! Why can't she be more excited about this? WHY GOD? WHY?"

Thusly, the resume has been updated and posted on various sites and the hunt begins again for a new job. I hate job hunting. I hate interviews. I hate change in general. The only thing I hate more is the idea of staying in my current job. My goal this time around is to get out of retail and get into something that doesn't make me want to eat glass instead of go to work in the morning. Now that I'm seriously, really, actively looking for a new job, it just can't happen soon enough. In my head, I'm already gone and every day it's all I can do not to hand in my 2 weeks notice and be free.

So, I guess my point is, if anyone wants to hire me and pay me a lot of money, I would appreciate it. Thanks muchly.

DIY

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 22:19:31 GMT

Recently I was visiting my sister's apartment. We were hanging out, watching tv, playing Scrabble and what have you when her roommate came home. He sat down with us with some knitting needles, which I didn't think much of. It was about 10 minutes before I realized that he wasn't using yarn to knit with. He was cutting strips of plastic bags. Like the kind you get at the grocery store. And he was knitting with them. "Wow," I said, "Um...what are you making there?" He looked up and said, "I don't know yet. Maybe a jacket!" I said," Wow. Cool." And my sister gave me a dirty look. When he left the room a little later she said, "Why did you have to encourage him? Now he's gonna want to hang it on the wall or something." I apologized and told her, "I'm sorry. I really didn't know what other polite reaction to have to someone knitting things out of plastic bags." Yesterday I went to my sister's to drop some things off and sure enough, there on the wall was hanging a knitted piece of plastic. It isn't a jacket though. It's maybe half of a scarf. Or a potholder. Although if you tried to use it as a potholder you'd probably wind up with third degree burns.

Voice Post

Tue, 18 Mar 2008 10:31:08 GMT

Last Will and Testament

Tue, 18 Mar 2008 02:45:58 GMT

About a year ago, I went to visit my friend Marcie in Las Vegas. During what was otherwise a lovely stay, she and her husband dragged me into the desert to ride around on little cars. Most people know them as ATVs, but I call them little cars, or small-dangerous-vehicle-I-will-most-likely-die-or-at-least-be-severely-injured-on. They were generous enough to make it a day trip (I don't sleep outside) and I believe there was even a bathroom in the vicinity (I don't pee outside either), though it surely was not a bathroom I had any intention of using. After they had made such thoughtful concessions for my comfort, I could hardly refuse to go. And so we went. Into the desert. Where, may I remind you, Jews have never really had a good experience.

Anyway, the night before we went I made sure Marcie knew where my insurance card was (she laughed at me) and I wrote a will (she laughed even harder). I wrote it in my day planner and after I lived through the experience, (which was not that bad and even kind of fun, though I did almost get lost in the desert and Marcie did her best to kill me by telling me only after I had ridden around, "I forgot to tell you, be careful going over hills, sometimes you think it's a hill but it's really a cliff and you won't have time to stop yourself.") I completely forgot I had written it. Until just a few minutes ago when I was cleaning out my day planner in preparation a conference I'm attending tomorrow (more on that later) and I found it.

To Whom It May Concern,

I Bea Middle Name Last Name, of reasonably sound mind (although this little car outing may throw even "reasonably" sound into question) and body, declare this to be my last will and testament.

First of all, even though she was responsible for my untimely demise I bear Marcie Middle Name Last Name no ill will and she should be allowed to attend my funeral should she so desire.

Secondly, please will someone put a quarter from my wallet into a slot machine for both Rebecca H. and Roslyn M. Any winnings should be divided between them.

All candle products I have should go to Rebecca H. after my sister Sarah Middle Name Last Name has had first choice. Also, all my DVDs and videos go to Rebecca H.

Please find my cat, Dori, a good home. She is very sweet and makes an excellent pet.

If my fish is still alive, find it a good home, too. It is not really sweet or a good pet, but still.

My earthly belongings may be distributed as my parents see fit and I must deeply apologise that I died before having a chance to clean up the basement.

Also, I'm sorry that someone is going to have to clean out my car.

I love you all very, very much.

Remember me often and please let everyone on LJ know I'm gone.

Be good to each other.

Bea

Fucking Feud.

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 21:16:43 GMT

Ok, forgive me if I'm behind the times on this and everyone has already seen these and I'm a big loser, but this is the funniest thing I have seen in forever. It's certainly not highbrow, it's crass and vulgar and completely fucking hilarious.

So, a bit of back story for those like me who live under a rock and had no idea this was going on. The late night host, Jimmy Kimmel has a running gag on his show in which he is always bumping Matt Damon off the program and signing off by saying, "apologies to Matt Damon, we've run out of time." And there's been this kind of fake feud between Kimmel and Damon for a while. Jimmy Kimmel has been dating comedienne Sarah Silverman for a some time now and I guess a few months ago he actually had her on his show as a guest and during her appearance, she announced she had something important to tell him and proceeded to roll this clip of a music video.

I'm not ashamed to admit that laughed so hard I cried. But as if that weren't funny enough, the other night, on his post-Oscar special, Jimmy fired back.

I honestly can't decide which one is funnier, Sarah's because it was first and original, or Jimmy's because he just went so completely over the top with it. I mean, come on! The We Are The World celeb-sing? The choir? Josh Groban??

I just wish the Oscars had been that entertaining.

Sofa Day!

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 17:09:44 GMT

It's Sofa Day! Yes, after 4 long months of having a virtually empty, completely useless room I am getting a sofa! After 4 months of living out of my bedroom exclusively I will now have a completely different room to sit comfortably in and watch tv. This is so exciting I can hardly find words! I will be able to enjoy the decorations on the mantle of my non-working fireplace! I can have guests over and they won't have to sit on the floor! Oh, happy, happy sofa day!

In honor of Sofa Day, I have already purchased pretty new throw pillows for the sofa and I have a sofa blanket ready and waiting to be used. I have a movie to watch while I lay on my new sofa and popcorn that can fall between the cushions of my new sofa! Whee!

The store called yesterday to tell me they would be delivering my new sofa between 9:30 a..m. and 1:30 p.m. It is now 12:08 p.m. Less than an hour and a half until my new sofa arrives!

P.S. There is a small possibility that my next post will be a tearful entry about how my new sofa did not fit in through the door.

In the closet.

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 04:08:07 GMT

Ok, it's not really in the closet. It's in my kitchen cabinet. And "it" is my fish. And the reason it's in my kitchen cabinet is that is the only place I can think of where my new cat can't get to him. My other cats never cared about the fish and I could have put him in an open bowl on the floor and they would have ignored him. But the new cat is very interested. In devouring my fish. The cat cannot be reasoned with and the fish is not going to spontaneously develop a cat defense mechanism. So. He is in my kitchen cabinet.

It is a sad life, to live in my kitchen cabinet.

But sadder still, to end up dead in the belly of my new cat.

In spite of myself.

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 16:46:30 GMT

I've been with my current employer for about 16 months now. In previous entries, I've related my frustration with them and how quickly they threw me up the corporate ladder. To briefly review; I was hired as an assistant manager for a problem store, two months after that I was promoted to retail manager without my knowledge or input or any discussion and a month after that I was acting general manager until around April when it was finally made official after a salary battle which I 40% won and 60% lost. I got the minimum amount I'd do the job for, but nothing more and no retroactive pay. And the minimum amount I asked for would have been fine if other people in my store, with jobs below mine, weren't making more than me.

The store I am in was not my first choice. The mall we're located in is not a good one, our demographic isn't the greatest. It's extremely hard to get good employees and keep them, no one wants to work in this mall. It's taken me about a year but I finally managed to get rid of all the employees who sucked and recruited some new ones who don't. I finally have a management staff I like and trust, I'm comfortable there and the store is finally in a place where good things can happen.

So, of course, higher ups have decided it's time to move things around.

Three other general managers quit. Two of them had stores in the Baltimore area, where I now live. The call went out that anyone wanting to interview to take over one of the vacancies should contact our regional manager. I thought about it very briefly but in the end decided not to put my name in, because of the two Baltimore slots, one is a lower volume store than mine, which they wouldn't move me into, and the other was a higher volume store with a specialty machine that very few stores have and I definitely didn't feel they'd put me in there because of my lack of experience. Plus, i knew it would be easier to find someone for the Baltimore store than for my store, so moving me out so they could face the problem of filling my store wasn't going to happen.

But then they called me and asked me to interview for it. My "mentor", the general manager who recruited and hired me and has been a big help to me, told them I live in Baltimore now and they wanted to interview me for the higher volume Baltimore store. Of course I agreed to be interviewed and told them I'd be interested in considering it. And they told me that they were interviewing other people for it also, the implication being, I was in the running but it wasn't a done deal. Which was fine, since I wasn't even sure I wanted to switch stores.`

I was supposed to interview by phone yesterday. That never happened. Instead what happened was that my mentor called me and told me that our regional was unable to interview me but that it didn't matter because they were going to transfer me to the higher volume store. Needless to say, I was pretty dumbfounded. I went from possibly being offered the store to definitely moving there, whether I wanted to or not. And I'm very conflicted about it.

The pros of moving to the Baltimore store are these:
1. Closer to home. It'll shave a good 30-40 miles round trip off my commute.
2. Higher volume store, which means I'd get more payroll hours. It also means commissions would be better and I might see monthly bonuses more often, so...more money.
3. As if the whole situation weren't crazy enough, my store is about to lose its lab manager. If I stay, I'll have to find a new one. An excruciating process. If I go...the Baltimore store has a fully functional, very good lab team in place.
4. Professionally, it's a step up for me.

There is really only one con to switching stores. I'd have to leave the staff I painstakingly put together and learn a whole new one. I like my staff. I trust them, I have fun with them, we work well together. Going to another store would be like...switching high schools in senior year. I do not deal well with change.

I know I'll probably end up switching to the other store. I'd almost be stupid not to. But a big part of me wants to turn this down. Yes, professionally, it's a step up but here's a secret about me. I'm not ambitious. I don't really care. Frankly, I'd like to leave this company altogether and will the moment a better offer comes along. I don't give a crap about the corporate ladder and I'm moving up it almost in spite of myself.

Girls Gone Wild

Mon, 21 Jan 2008 02:12:54 GMT

While unpacking boxes today, I found a few rolls of undeveloped film. Curiosity motivated me to take them to a one hour place and have them developed. Turns out they are pictures of my time at seminary in Tsfas, Israel. And they answer the burning question I know you all have. What do religious seminary girls with no access to computers, movies or television do when they are not in class?

They practice covering their hair for when they get married!

They practice being pregnant!

And giving birth!

Wild!

Number 2 Thing I Love About My Apartment.

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 01:54:20 GMT

Wow, ok. I totally fail at LJ, guys. Sorry. But better late than never, or so they say. My new apartment is still not resembling my vision and so I must continue with my list of things to take my mind off not obtaining instant gratification. Last time, I was super excited about my garbage chute, which I guess most people really did not get. So maybe none of you mind taking out your trash. Maybe you were just feeling sorry for me that a garbage chute right outside my door was the best thing I could come up with to cheer myself up. If that is the case, then I offer you the second reason I love my new apartment: my neighborhood.

When I started looking for a new apartment I had a few things in mind. One of the most important things to me was to be within walking distance of things. Restaurants, bars, shops, etc. I suppose partly because the price of gas is high and I like to conserve. Partly because I didn't want to have to worry about driving drunk in the unlikely event that I actually get drunk. Partly because if I want Doritos in the middle of the night, I don't want to have to get in my car and go somewhere. And, I have to say, I really outdid myself when I found this apartment.

I am within easy walking distance of not one but two 24 hour convenience stores, at least a dozen carryout/delivery places, a Starbucks, the light rail, several bars, and restaurants ranging from cheap and casual to pricey and chic. And as if that weren't enough, I am also smack dab in the middle of Baltimore's theater district. In addition to being able to stroll to the places listed above, I can also pop outside my building and within a matter of minutes be at: The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, The Lyric Opera House, Centerstage or the Theater Project. And if for some reason I get tired of live theater and want to see whatever new indie movie or relevant documentary is out, I can just bop on over to The Charles Theater and take in a flick.

And did I mention the garbage chute?

Thing I love about my new apartment number one.

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 17:18:49 GMT

So, I recently moved. Kind of. I mean, I did, I signed a lease and I pay rent and I sleep in the new place and scoop the kitty litter every day right here in my new apartment, but I'm still living sans a lot of furniture. Which I hate. I can't stand living out of boxes and having my things in 2 different places, 3 if you count the trunk of my car. There are boxes everywhere, which delights the small annoying ball of fur I live with as she races around hiding in them, attacking them, trying to eat the strips of tape hanging off them and in general making a bigger mess of the place, but it most assuredly does not delight me. And when I complain about this, well meaning people hasten to tell me that this is only temporary and that I will have furniture one day, probably even one day in the realm of soonish. But when you are a perfectionist minded, ADD, instant gratification needing, have a vision that must be realized NOW kind of girl, such as me, this is not a helpful thing to say.

So in an effort to help myself I have decided to list, one entry at a time, all the things I love about my new apartment so that when I get in a bad mood about how I still don't have a sofa (or a dining table, or a desk [my computer currently resides on 2 tv tray tables] or, or, or...), I can recite this list and try to convince myself that I don't care about a silly sofa! Who needs a sofa when there is a garbage chute right outside my door?

1) There is a garbage chute right outside my door! I can't stress how awesome that is. It's not one floor up or down from me, it's not even down the hall some. I literally open my door, walk two steps, open the garbage chute and away goes my trash. My last apartment had dumpsters that you had to walk to. In order to take out my trash I had to be dressed against whatever weather elements there were, be it snow, rain, ice, 17 year locusts.... I had to walk across the lawn and through the parking lot to get to the dumpster, most of the time carrying heavy bags that were leaking or dripping some icky substance, praying that the bag would not get pierced by whatever sharp things might be in the bag, resulting in spilled trash all over the lawn that I would then have to clean up. Once I got to the dumpsters, which never, ever smelled anything but foul and rancid, I would have to scare away the scavenging squirrels and other rodents before I could get close enough to open the dumpster, which meant touching the dumpster, a task for which I was almost never prepared and still feel I need therapy to recover from. Then, because the opening of the dumpster was at the level of my head, I would have to swing my trash bags with enough force that the momentum would carry them up and into the dumpster, which, if said bag was leaking or dripping could possibly result in it leaking and dripping on me. Then, of course, I had to go back to my apartment and boil myself. But now! Taking out the trash is positively fun! I never have to put on shoes. The handle of the garbage chute is shiny and clean. There are no rodents scampering about waiting to infest me with disease! Rain? Snow? Bugs? I scoff at them. The worst thing that can happen is my neighbor sees me in my ratty pajamas. But that does not require that I sterilize myself, so I am more than happy to live with that possibility.

Speaking my mind.

Sat, 15 Dec 2007 05:05:04 GMT

One of the accomplishments I am most proud of over this past year is my ability to be more assertive and speak my mind more. This has been most evident in work situations. What generally happens is when my boss calls me and asks how I am doing, I no longer put on my happy face and say everything is just peachy keen even though I am half dead from exhaustion and stress and depressed from the 800 voice mails demanding unrealistic goals and the accusations against my integrity and the cutbacks they insist on while still expecting perfection and the sixteen bazillion new mandatory policies put into effect immediately. Instead when I get a call and am asked how I am I will tell them, "I am not doing well." And when they ask why, I will tell them. In detail. This happened very recently when the regional manager in charge of quality called me one morning and decided to exchange pleasantries. Except I wasn't feeling very pleasant, a tone she noted quickly and we had the following conversation:

Boss: You sound so defeated, Bea.

Me: Well, D. I feel defeated.

Boss: Why? What's going on?

Me: *long, detailed answer about issues stated above*

Boss: *long, detailed reply involving key motivational phrases and cliches, my favorite being, "the problem is not the company, it's you"*

Me: I understand what you're saying but I don't agree.

Boss: Bea, you are too young to have this much stress!

Me: D., there is no age at which this much stress is appropriate.

Her last comment got to me. I'm too young to have this much stress? So, if I were 46, this much stress would be fine? At what age does this stress level become acceptable? Answer: never. Never. This much stress should be reserved for people who operate on hearts, or rescue people from burning buildings or run countries (take note Mr. Bush) or other meaningful, important things. Not that I wish this level of stress on anyone (except Mr. Bush) I'm just saying I could understand someone who holds other people's lives in their hands missing a few hours of sleep or having troubling dreams or stress eating.

But I sell glasses. In a mall. All things considered, it's not that serious.

No, REALLY. What is WRONG with people?

Wed, 21 Nov 2007 05:15:37 GMT

A customer called one of my employees a nigger. To be more precise, she said the employee was "acting niggerish." I'm breaking out into hives just typing that word and this woman is ranting in front of G-d and everyone about my employee is acting...well, see above. WHO DOES THAT!?

My employee, to her everlasting credit, did not immediately jump over the counter and beat the crap out of the customer, but very firmly told the woman she could not speak to her like that. I was not there at the time. Which the customer should give daily thanks for because if I had been, she would have found herself forcibly removed from the store with very clear and detailed instructions to never, ever show her face there again. As it is, I had the employee put a note in the customer's file and told the entire staff that she is to be declined service if she ever comes in again.

But seriously. I need to know. What is wrong with people??

Eyelid says: do not kill whales. And might I add: do not kill dolphins either.

Fri, 16 Nov 2007 18:17:41 GMT

Just the other day Eyelid was posting about how Japan is killing whales not for food, because apparently whale meat tastes like shit, but mainly because they can and they don't like other countries (read: the USA) telling them not to. They kill them even though they have warehouses so packed with whale meat they're considering making it into dog food...and even though whale meat has dangerous levels of mercury and other bad things you and your dog should not ingest.

And then today, I stumbled across a news piece that Hayden Panettiere, the cheerleader from "Heroes" has an arrest warrant out on her in the country of Japan. What did she do that was so bad Japan wants her arrested? Aside from being part of the cheesy "Save the cheerleader, save the world" promo from last season? Well, she tried to save some dolphins from being slaughtered by...Japan.

She wasn't fucking around about it either. She didn't mouth off at a podium or on Entertainment Tonight about how evil Japan is. She and other activists paddled out into the the holding pen where a pod of dolphins was waiting to be driven into the killing cove and tried to create a barrier between the fishermen and the dolphins. (Warning: the video is not explicitly graphic but it is very disturbing.) If you look at the picture under the video, you can clearly see how the water is red with blood from all the slaughtered dolphins. The activists were ultimately unsuccessful in saving those dolphins, though I certainly hope that the resulting publicity is useful in preventing this in the future. There are several endangered species of dolphins, such as the Striped Dolphin, which are commonly hunted in Japan's killing sprees. And dolphins, like whales, contain high levels of dangerous chemicals so...there is no reason to be eating them.

When I was on vacation this summer in Hilton Head we went jet skiing. My sister threw me off and I broke a rib. I was in pain the entire hour we were out on the water. On our way back to shore at the end of our time, we saw a pod of dolphins playing not even 10 yards from us. And even though I was wet and cold and my rib was broken, seeing those dolphins was magical and the highlight of the whole week.

In short, Hayden and friends are awesome and Japan sucks.

Thu, 08 Nov 2007 04:25:28 GMT

I am unhappy and in a bad mood. Nice people keep trying to cheer me up, but it isn't working, which just makes me feel guilty, unhappy and in a bad mood. On so many levels, I dread tomorrow.

A brief moment of sanity.

Wed, 31 Oct 2007 16:55:09 GMT

I am moving. This is good and exciting and long in coming. It is also exasperating, stressful and dreaded. However, in a rare display of awesomeness, I must revel in the fact that I have been very organized and productive about the move so far. SO FAR. I feel sure that packing and the actual process of moving things will be my downfall. Until then, I bask in the fact that I have:

1) Already chosen paint colors.
2) Already purchased paint supplies (but not the actual paint because I have to measure the rooms).
3) Obtained renter's insurance.
4) Scheduled a time for phone and internet to be hooked up.
5) Comparison shopped sofas (I even found a sofa I loved, only to discover the company has nothing but bad reviews and now I'm too freaked out to purchase from them, so the search continues).
6) Went to IKEA and made copious notes for creative storage solutions and window treatments (I got lost in IKEA twice. It was embarrassing).
7) Started a list of very important items to have that are not fun to buy and so will surely be forgotten (like trash cans).

And all information is in my very special "moving notebook" and not scattered throughout various scraps of napkins and post-it notes, which is my usual organization method.

Obviously, this will not last and it's only a matter of time before I am insane again.

Molested at the mall!

Mon, 22 Oct 2007 03:11:09 GMT

As my friend Becky and I were out this evening at the Baltimore Inner Harbor, looking for a place to eat dinner, we were accosted by an Israeli guy selling Dead Sea Products at a kiosk. Usually, I am very adept at avoiding kiosk people, but...not so much this time.

Here's what happened.

Sat, 20 Oct 2007 01:44:19 GMT

As a reward to myself for a completely hellacious few weeks at work, I scheduled myself off for an entire weekend. This does not happen often and feeling the need to take advantage of the situation, plus getting a little stir crazy as of late, earlier this week I proposed to my friend that we day trip up to New York City, have some fun and adventures and a a good meal tomorrow. Said friend has since been incommunicado and presumably not available for NYC hijinks tomorrow. So, I pose this question to you:

View Poll: #1074416

Work hell, movie reviews and boobs.

Sat, 13 Oct 2007 06:18:26 GMT

(Everyone who wanted free, random presents should email me their contact info so I can get started on that.)

Please remind me to tell you all the story about how I had to throw a customer out of my store the other day. It's highly entertaining, now that I am not living through it.

In related news, work recently has sucked beyond the telling of it. It's definitely time to get the hell out. Not just of where I am, but of the retail field in general since retail itself sucks beyond the telling of it. Life is just entirely too short to be stuck doing something you hate every day.

When I am able to escape my workplace hell, I've been seeing a lot of movies. I saw "Feast of Love" recently and I have never laughed so hard in my entire life. It was hilarious!! I literally spent the entire last ten minute of the movie shaking with laughter. Oh, did I mention it's not a comedy? Yeah. It's bad. It's really bad. It is. So. Very. Bad. Just terrible. It's so bad it should win an award for how bad it is. It's so bad it may actually go full circle and wind up good. Except it's so very, very not good. Greg Kinnear plays the gayest straight man ever, a woman get slapped and called the c-word and then winds up living happily ever after with the asshole who slapped her, people hump on a football field and it's supposed to be meaningful, and Morgan Freeman looks wise and above it all as he spouts drivel that is supposed to teach us about the nature of life and love. Whatever, dude.

I saw "Eastern Promises" which was excellent and extremely disturbing. Everyone knows Viggo Mortenson from the LotR trilogy and yes, I too thought he was hot and rugged. (Although to this day it annoys me that he ended up with the elf girl and not the kick-ass girl from Rohan who slew a freaking Lord of the Nazgul people...come on! That is way cooler than sitting around and alternating between looking sad, and looking beautiful and looking sadly beautiful. /geekery) What was I saying? Oh, yeah. Viggo's hot. However, I never really gave much thought to whether or not he was a good actor. Well, he is. He is simply excellent in "Eastern Promises" and so is Vincent Cassel who took a part that could have easily been a cliche and gave it depth.

And tonight I saw "The Jane Austen Book Club" which was very enjoyable. It will not shock you to know that it's predictable and contrived but we need movies like that sometimes and if you're going to watch one, it might as well be a good one. And this was. Light hearted, fun, dare I use the word cute? And best of all, Becky and I had the entire theater to ourselves! We could talk and make all the snarky comments we wanted! Such as this:

Becky: Oh my G-d, he's so hot! She needs to get it on with him.
Me: Becky! He's her student! And she's married! And he's her student!
Becky: I don't care, she needs to jump him.
Me: You are so wrong.
Becky: She won't do it. This is a PG-13 movie.

Tomorrow it's back to work to finish out my 55 hour work week. Joy. Sunday I will be rising at the very buttcrack of dawn and walking to save ta-ta's in the Komen Race for a Cure walk. (Remember: me = less racing, more casual stroll.) I have been inexcusably bad at keeping up on the fundraising front but if anyone wants one last chance to donate, please do so here. If I reach my fundraising goal, I promise to post pictures of the event here on LJ. So, if that's the kind of thing that motivates you, go to. If not, well...I don't blame you. But donate anyway. Remember, boobs are for everyone.

Come on. Who doesn't like free, random, presents?

Tue, 02 Oct 2007 04:22:47 GMT

For the first three people who reply to me and re-post this challenge, I will send you something. It might be something I've made, or something cool from my hidden stash, it might be a mix CD - or a rubber duck, a book I think you will enjoy, or something else that is awesome. Whatever it is, I promise that I will get it to you in 365 days or less.

The only thing you need to do in order to participate is to be one of the first three to reply to this, AND post this very same thing on YOUR live journal - 'cause its fun to give people stuff. God knows you have enough crap anyway.

The first 3 participants win!

Oh, what the hell, let's make it the first 6 participants. And I won't even require that you re-post this in your LJ. Cause that's the kind of giving, wonderful person I am.

It's a Yom Kippur miracle!

Thu, 20 Sep 2007 17:47:10 GMT

Before I came home to post my hysterical depression filled working on Yom Kippur post the other day, I had called my regional manager (he of the never calling me back and no retroactive pay past) and left a desperate message pleading for help. I really didn't have any hope that 1) he would call me back or 2) that if he did it would be with good news. Because I know for a fact that all the other stores in my area are just as understaffed as I am and Saturday is the very worst day to try to get extra coverage because it's the heaviest staffed day of the week. Not to mention the fact that not only did I need coverage, but a manager who could close the store for me.

And yet yesterday morning, bright and early, I got a phone call from him. And the first words out of his mouth after, "Hi, Bea, it's H." were, "Of course you can have your holiday." And then he went on to say that he understood how important it was and that he didn't have a solution yet, but he wanted to call and reassure me that he would find one and if he didn't, "we'll just close the store and they can do what they want to me."

He called me again later in the afternoon to tell me he had found people to cover and I am not to worry and I am to take my holiday because he wants me to get into heaven (hee!) and that he doesn't want me to quit because I am a valued member of the team and they appreciate my contribution and blah, blah, blah corporate talk fishcakes.

So, I am NOT working on Yom Kippur.

I never thought I'd be so happy to stand all day without eating.

And on the 7th day...G-d may have rested but apparently I'm not allowed to.

Wed, 19 Sep 2007 05:32:05 GMT

I went to great lengths to assure that I would have this Saturday, which is Yom Kippur, off. Only to walk into work today and find all my plans in a shambles, leaving me no option but to...work on Yom Kippur.

And now I can't seem to stop crying.

It is true that I am no longer The Very Most Religious Girl In All The Land anymore, but still. Yom Kippur.

Excuse me, please. Apparently there are more tears that need to come out now.

Reason # 739 why I love my friend Becky.

Sun, 02 Sep 2007 05:34:30 GMT

Last night my friend Becky and I were having dinner and she was telling me all about her first week of classes in grad school. And she was lamenting the fact that during one of the ice breaker games where they were partnered up and told to find out something fascinating about the other person, she could think of nothing to say except, "Well....I'm parked illegally right now."

Of course I consoled her and told her that of course she had fascinating things about her. They just weren't necessarily things she would want to share with a bunch of strangers. And then I asked what answers other people had given. She said one person had answered that they were learning another language and another person had shared that they came from a family of 10 kids. Well, I said, those aren't exactly fascinating items. I mean, you might, in a stretch, call them interesting but not fascinating. Unless the language is like...ancient sanskrit and the 10 kids all came out of the womb at once.

Then we started brainstorming on what she should have answered and we came up with this list.

• I am a pathological liar.
• I'm a ninja.
• I'm really black.
• I'm a hermaphrodite.
• I'm a drug dealer.
• I'm into S&M.
• I used to be in a cult.
• I'm a polygamist.
• I'm a lesbian polygamist.
• I'm a plushie.

And after we had exhausted ourselves laughing and making people in the restaurant stare at us strangely, we went to see the Bourne Ultimatum. Where half way through the movie I leaned over and whispered, "Becky, you should have said, 'I'm an assassin!'" And she shot back without even missing a beat, "...of puppies."

My own personal Jaws.

Fri, 10 Aug 2007 15:53:00 GMT

I am counting down the hours until I leave for my vacation to Hilton Head, SC. I am experiencing a strange mixture of relief, excitement and dread as I while the remaining hours away. Relief because I will be away from work for about 10 days. (Which means that my store will be a disaster when I get back but, lalalala, I'm not thinking about that right now.) Excitement because I happen to be the kind of freak who enjoys long roadtrips and spending time with family. And dread because while I am there, I will be attacked by a shark.

You see, months ago, when we learned we would be staying at Hilton Head, I was told that our condo was on the bay side of the island. Naturally I thought we would be spending long, lazy days hanging out by the bay. So I went ahead and watched Shark Week. Only to be told after I had spent a week watching shows like, "The 10 Worst Shark Attacks In the World" and "Feeding Frenzy" and "A Show Where My Worst Nightmare Comes True and A Boat Sinks and Leaves A Group Of Men In the Open Ocean Surrounded By Sharks For Days And It's Like That Movie 'Open Water' Except It Really Happened" that while we would be staying on the bay side, we'd travel over to the beach by day and spend our days there.

So you see, I'm totally going to get attacked by a shark. I know what you're probably thinking. You're thinking, "Bea, you're so silly. Of course you're not going to get attacked by a shark. I bet there aren't even sharks in the area you're going."

Ok, well, first of all smartypants, yes, there are. And secondly, everyone who watches Shark Week knows that sharks are always appearing where they're not supposed to! They get a little confused, take a wrong turn and the next thing you know, some Eskimo who's taking a dip while ice fishing is being attacked by a great white.

I have to face the facts. I'm probably going to be on next year's Shark Week. It'll probably be called something like, "Danger from the Depths" and there will be a cheesy re-enactment of me cavorting in the water, all carefree and then the obligatory underwater shot of my tasty legs dangling enticingly as the shark rockets upwards to grab a snack. They'll dump red dye into the water to simulate the copious amounts of blood that poured from my wound and other re-enactment actors will be engaged to show my brave family members heroic attempts to save me. (And I'll tell you now, family members, there had damn well better be some heroic attempts!) Then I'll appear on camera in an interview saying something like, "At first I didn't know what had happened! I just felt a sharp tug and then I was underwater. When I realized it was a shark, I kind of instinctively threw my arms up as it came back around and it bit me right in the upper arm. And thank G-d for arm fat, because otherwise it would have taken a chunk of muscle out, but instead, after the stitches and plastic surgery, I just ended up with really toned looking arms. Cheaper than liposuction! Next year, I'm hoping it bites me in the ass!"

You know, on second thought...if anyone needs me, I'll be in the pool.

Forget the whales, what have they ever done for us? Save the boobies!

Sun, 29 Jul 2007 04:10:19 GMT

Come October, I'm participating in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. While my particular part will be less "racing" and more "leisurely stroll" I will still be physically exerting myself for the cause of promoting breast cancer awareness and raising money to find a cure.

So of course, I totally want your money.

If you are willing and able, I would be ever so grateful if you would consider sponsoring me.

If you are willing but not able, I completely understand and no explanation is necessary.

If you are able but not willing, I do not understand and would like a written explanation no less than five pages long, single spaced emailed to me by Thursday. Spelling and grammar count.