I Only Wanted to Wash My Hands
August 19th, 2010 @ 1:52 pm | Comments (2)
Filed: Philly | Tags:
I think I got a man arrested this morning.
Let me start at the beginning. I was running late so I had to drive to the train station instead of walking. All the good spots on the side street were taken, so I had to park on a busier street - on trash day. As I walked by the driver’s side door, I pushed in my side mirror to protect it from the trash truck. And of course, I smeared fresh bird poo on my palm.
Do you know what’s in bird poo? Salmonella! E. coli! Cooties!
I asked the man at the train ticket window if there is a bathroom I could use to wash off the bird poo. He claims there isn’t, a claim I find hard to believe. What, he has to sit behind the ticket window for 8 hours without going to the bathroom? I call bird poo.
With no other option like antibacterial hand gel (on sale now at Bath & Body Works!), I tried my darndest to avoid touching anything. I failed, but I knew as soon as the train got to Market East, i could slip into the bathroom and wash my hands.
I scurried around all the slow walkers and turn down the bathroom hallway. I entered the bathroom designated for women - I checked the signs twice - and draw up short. There, standing at the bathroom sink, was a shirtless man (I’m assuming) lathering his armpits at the sink. I quickly retreated to examine the signage again and then reopened the door to make sure I wasn’t mistaken. Nope, he(?) was still there, scrubbing away. In the WOMEN’S room.
I hurried to the main corridor to find someone to help. Not seeing a security guard or employee, I tried to enlist the aid of the Subway Sandwich store worker, but a language barrier caused me to seek other help. Fortunately, a mall employee was enjoying his Subway at a nearby table and he radioed for backup.
As I proceeded on my way to work (past a taunting Bath & Body Works store promoting its anti-bacterial hand gel collection sale) I passed two security guards, one who said, “That’s it, we need to call in the police for backup.”
And after my 8 block walk to work, I finally washed my hands at the office.
What I Did on my Blog Vacation
June 23rd, 2010 @ 5:24 pm | Comments (2)
Filed: My glamourous life | Tags:
1. Bought a house
Crazy, right? I blame the tax credit.
2. Started tons of projects for said house
Everyone says homeownership is a lot of work. They’re right. We tackled the back deck area last weekend and a few other miscellaneous projects. And by we I mean my brother-in-law, dad and sister’s BF. Now it’s onward to painting, whee!
3. Hung out a lot with these guys
They’re growing up so fast. And there’s going to be one more come December.
4. Bought lots of baby bibs
For a while it seemed like everyone was getting married. Now it seems like everyone is procreating. If you need a good gift, check out my friend Kara’s Etsy shop.
5. Went on vacation. Took no photos. Oops! Good thing we’re going back to Ocean City, Md., next month.
What did you do on my blog vacation?
I want to quit the bus
March 8th, 2010 @ 9:46 pm | Comments (0)
Filed: My glamourous life, Philly | Tags:
The Erin Express was described to me a couple years ago as one of the best experiences of the describer’s life. The tale included a detailed account of finding her boyfriend by a Dumpster eating a bag of bread.
So what is the Erin Express? A free bus, sponsored by about 15 Philadelphia Irish bars, that runs in loop between all the bars for 5 hours.
I’m always up for a legendary experience but this was the first year my schedule allowed for shamrocking shenanigans. My sister and some of her friends met up with some of my friends in the Art Museum area for a day of debauchery. While it had all the makings of awesome, we quickly quit the Erin Express for a couple of reasons:
* Bud Light bottles at the first bar were $5. Sure, they were green, but they were Bud Light.
* The bus ride from hell. Yes, it was free. But we probably could have walked from Fairmount to University City quicker than the hour-plus we were trapped on the school bus. God bless the woman who had the unfortunate task of chauffeuring rowdy, green-clad, drunk people all around Philadelphia. I’m sure there was a specific route she had to take but that route did not make any sense at all, hence the hour long ride and the screaming match between the driver and a spoiled, drunk brat.
* I’m old. Age is just a number but I think there comes a point where you need to stop trying to drink as much as possible as early as possible. I’ve reached that point.
* Too many butt cheeks. Ladies, not a classy look at all.
So we quit the bus and made our own tour of Philadelphia. First up, hibachi. Then super cheap drinks at Tavern on Broad followed by more cheap drinks at Jolly’s piano bar.
At Jolly’s I figured out why I’m single.
I started talking about the exercise recovery benefits of chocolate milk and he mentioned that that’s probably a healthier (and safer) way to recover than his current recovery food.
Two raw eggs.
Because it was good enough for Rocky.
And then I almost fell off my barstool laughing.
It wasn’t until running along Kelly Drive this afternoon that I remembered I recently told a different guy I was thinking about going to law school.
Because of Legally Blonde.
I blame the Internet
February 9th, 2010 @ 11:41 pm | Comments (1)
Filed: Pomdering | Tags:
I think I can speak for all of us when I say that there has been at least one moment where Facebook has given us a moment of supreme and utter satisfaction - like finding out the Queen Bee from high school has fallen off her pedestal or that ex’s brand new girlfriend is fatter than you. But it can have some unanticipated consequences.
Duh, right? I understand Facebook. I’ve participated in Webinars, listened to conference calls, attended meetings centered around using Facebook to enhance your brand and market to consumers. I know you shouldn’t post anything on Facebook you wouldn’t want your grandma to see. (Although my grandma may be an exception, but that’s a whole ‘nother post.)
There’s one thing they didn’t teach me during those sessions - Facebook can complicate dating.
As if dating isn’t hard enough, if you use Facebook to chronicle your life, it opens you up to stalking and takes away the ice breaker conversation.
Favorite music? Already listed. TV shows? Same. Farmville awards? Level 27! What did you do last night? I already saw the photos.
Then there’s the whole messaging situation. E-mail doesn’t necessarily get checked every day. But if you update part of your Facebook profile, he can see that you’re just not responding to his message.
Obviously the key is to wait to become Facebook friends. Afterall, unfriending is hard to do.
What’s your gameplan when it comes to dating and Facebook/social media?
PS - I also blame the Internet for making me telecommute tomorrow instead of enjoying a glorious snow day like I rightfully deserve.
Easy as 1-2-3
January 15th, 2010 @ 9:56 am | Comments (1)
Filed: Uncategorized | Tags:
My mom has always been a counter when it comes to child discipline. She could put the fear of God in my sisters and me with the first “Wwww” before going on to nnne. (Because she liked to let anticipation build.) Which is why I couldn’t help but laugh when she was trying to discipline my nephew D.
“D, pick up your toys now.”
“No.”
“Pick them up, please.”
“No.”
“D, wwwwwwwwone… twwwwwooo-”
“Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine!”
He hasn’t quite mastered ten.
Suffice it to say he didn’t pick up his toys.
The Clampetts go to Farmville
January 6th, 2010 @ 9:31 pm | Comments (1)
Filed: Cows, My glamourous life | Tags:
Scene: Two of my sisters and I are sitting on our parents’ couch, laptops warming our knees. Dad enters.
(Background: My dad can maybe turn off a computer, he usually just pulls the plug. Although there was that one time, like 10 years ago, he really enjoyed playing pinball.) (Also, my dad has a disposition similar to Red from “That ’70s Show.”)
Dad: What ARE you doing?
Us, in unison: Playing Farmville.
Dad: What?
Me: Farmville. It’s a computer farming game.
K: You plant crops, milk cows, earn money.
Dad: You idiots. We have 150 REAL acres out there. Go farm for real.
Me: But we don’t get smelly farming on Facebook. And it’s much warmer in here.
(Aside: You make way more money for your cows’ milk on Farmville than you do in real life. And I don’t think anyone makes pink tractors. By the way, brown cows don’t produce chocolate milk, nor do pink cows make strawberry milk.)
But I do appreciate cute men no matter their professions
November 4th, 2009 @ 10:17 pm | Comments (1)
Filed: Uncategorized | Tags:
You know how there are some days (weeks?) at work that make you wonder why you’re doing this? Are you competent? Are you working hard enough? Could you make better money elsewhere? Why are your coworkers so ridiculous? With this economy, leaving a steady, respectable job is daunting.
And then there are those magical days that make you realize it’s not so bad.
Today I had a meeting with football team that rhymes with Smaltimore Smavens. Over the past month or so I’ve had the opportunity to meet with two other teams as we work on a huge project to tackle (ha!) childhood obesity. Meeting with these teams is kind of wasted on me - I’m not a huge sports fan. Sure, I’m always up for a good social function around a sporting event but that’s usually for the alcohol. I think athletic interest is imparted by your parents which my parents never encouraged. I grew up on a sole proprietor dairy farm and my parents were too busy, and we lived too far away, so we weren’t allowed to participate in organized sports.
Anyway, I’m not a huge sports fan but I can still appreciate the experience I had today (and that it was kind of wasted on me). We were invited to the team’s practice facility, which a colleague described as Hogwarts from Harry Potter. Gorgeous. After the meeting, we ate lunch in the team’s cafeteria during which the PRESIDENT of the TEAM sat with us. Then toured the facility. We checked out the locker room (those boys are messy!), met the equipment manager (the players wear new shoes each game - they go through 1,000 pairs of shoes a year), toured the weight room, hung out in the team lounge, and watched some of this afternoon’s practice.
Was I bragging when I updated my Facebook status with, “Just ate lunch with the president of the Smavens.”? Are you a Smavens fan? Do you ever have magical opportunities at work? Do you ever feel incompetent? Anyone from the Smavens want to hire me? (Employees get free food, access to the team’s gym, free fitness classes and a posh office. And to meet with me.) (Also, there was a sign on the front door that said if you have flu-like symptoms, you weren’t allowed in the building.)
PS - A couple weeks ago, I wore TWO Super Bowl rings.
