Dear Hayley,
Today is your 22nd birthday. That just doesn't seem possible as I clearly remember our first night together with the rain on the hospital windows and the thunder, the sweet rare sound of thunder! And now you are this wonderful young woman just about ready to take on the future with the brightness of the lightening that long ago evening.
You are amazing. I know that every mom says that about every daughter, but you are truly amazing. Sure, you are cute and funny. You have a wonderful and beautiful smile (Smile Orthodontics says Happy Birthday). But that is not what makes you so special, it is your great big heart. I am amazed by the great efforts you take to make everyone feel special. Watching you work one afternoon was such a treat! Your care and attention to the bride-to-be was impressive. It is no wonder that people rave about you. Every bride must feel like a princess after an afternoon with you.
You are so funny. All of your life you have made me laugh. From your early days of make believe dressing up as Girl or Snow White or Witch (have a bite?) to your dress up days with Kat and Mary as Christmas elves, garage band or whatever else it was the three of you did, you made me laugh.
You are sweet. There is a no toothed can't hit the litter box weirdo that has a wonderful life because of you. You and Brett have given Small Cat a life that is warm and loving. There is a long line of furry friends that have benefited from your fleece blankets and movie marathons.
You are generous. Saved a sister's life and have already offered up a kidney or hunk of liver, if needed. But that is not where your generosity begins or ends. Your generous heart shines through all of the time.
You are all grown up with your own goals and plans but you will never stop being my girl, my Snow White, my witch. I am so proud. You will be wonderful!
I love you,
Mom
Friday, January 30, 2015
Sunday, January 18, 2015
war movies with my war veteran
"If you go to combat and you have people who love you at home, some version of this story is your story," Taya Kyle, widow of Chris Kyle, the subject of the much anticipated movie, American Sniper said in an interview regarding this movie.
We saw it yesterday, Danny and I. This is the first war movie that I have seen with Danny that does not take place prior to him enlisting. Meaning, I have watched "We Were Soldiers" and "Heartbreak Ridge" but did not see "Lone Survivor" or "Hurt Locker" with Danny. I was very hesitant to see "American Sniper" in the theater and with Danny. There are some things that I may just not want to know.
Danny was active duty and guard for sixteen years. In those sixteen years he saw combat twice, in 1990-91 with Desert Shield/Desert Storm and again in 2004 in Iraq. He has shared many of his experiences while in the desert, but I have always been sure that many experiences are told to me in a white washed sort of way. When Pillage gets together, I don't hear about missions, but instead am regaled with tales of TV stations gone bad, fantastic cave restaurant food and escapades of the men in the orange baseball caps on the balcony of Sadaam's palace. And that has always worked for me. Even ten years later, I am still unprepared to hear how close the mortar landed.
I am grateful to Taya Kyle for letting this story be told. It is a difficult place to be, a spouse frustrated and ready to be a regular family again. Even knowing what we 'signed up' for does not make us not want the usual, normal things. And when there are children, we struggle even more to keep things normal when we are not feeling normal at all. Personally, I am still processing the way I behaved while Danny was gone in 2004 and am still trying to let go of it.
The military and those associated with it have come along way in knowing that people need help sometimes to work through the shit and there is no shame in that. We laugh now about Danny changing lanes under the overpasses and not allowing any vehicle to get too close to us on 22nd Street and the movie shows that same reaction so very well. Danny was a horrible driver right after he came home. He swerved for every pothole and McDonalds bag in the road. And we thought we understood why, but we also thought he should be able to wrap his head around the fact that he was in West Des Moines. Watching a movie that shows some of what his experience may have been like makes me realize how idiotic I was thinking he should be able to just let that year go and get back to picking up kids from soccer practice and ordering pizza and being a regular dad driving a minivan down the road.
I am sure that many will come out of the theater with new feelings about the war in Iraq. I know that I still wonder about it, try to make sense of it. Having had the opportunity to talk to people that escaped the genocide in Northern Iraq gives me a very different perspective, I suppose. I don't know that I could love something, an idea, so much that I would give up a thousand days to fight for that. Lucky for me, there are plenty of people that do have that kind of heart and strength.
From Danny's point of view, a very well made movie that captured so much of what was real about Iraq. From my point of view, a very well made movie that captured so much of what was real about loving someone in Iraq.
We saw it yesterday, Danny and I. This is the first war movie that I have seen with Danny that does not take place prior to him enlisting. Meaning, I have watched "We Were Soldiers" and "Heartbreak Ridge" but did not see "Lone Survivor" or "Hurt Locker" with Danny. I was very hesitant to see "American Sniper" in the theater and with Danny. There are some things that I may just not want to know.
Danny was active duty and guard for sixteen years. In those sixteen years he saw combat twice, in 1990-91 with Desert Shield/Desert Storm and again in 2004 in Iraq. He has shared many of his experiences while in the desert, but I have always been sure that many experiences are told to me in a white washed sort of way. When Pillage gets together, I don't hear about missions, but instead am regaled with tales of TV stations gone bad, fantastic cave restaurant food and escapades of the men in the orange baseball caps on the balcony of Sadaam's palace. And that has always worked for me. Even ten years later, I am still unprepared to hear how close the mortar landed.
I am grateful to Taya Kyle for letting this story be told. It is a difficult place to be, a spouse frustrated and ready to be a regular family again. Even knowing what we 'signed up' for does not make us not want the usual, normal things. And when there are children, we struggle even more to keep things normal when we are not feeling normal at all. Personally, I am still processing the way I behaved while Danny was gone in 2004 and am still trying to let go of it.
The military and those associated with it have come along way in knowing that people need help sometimes to work through the shit and there is no shame in that. We laugh now about Danny changing lanes under the overpasses and not allowing any vehicle to get too close to us on 22nd Street and the movie shows that same reaction so very well. Danny was a horrible driver right after he came home. He swerved for every pothole and McDonalds bag in the road. And we thought we understood why, but we also thought he should be able to wrap his head around the fact that he was in West Des Moines. Watching a movie that shows some of what his experience may have been like makes me realize how idiotic I was thinking he should be able to just let that year go and get back to picking up kids from soccer practice and ordering pizza and being a regular dad driving a minivan down the road.
I am sure that many will come out of the theater with new feelings about the war in Iraq. I know that I still wonder about it, try to make sense of it. Having had the opportunity to talk to people that escaped the genocide in Northern Iraq gives me a very different perspective, I suppose. I don't know that I could love something, an idea, so much that I would give up a thousand days to fight for that. Lucky for me, there are plenty of people that do have that kind of heart and strength.
From Danny's point of view, a very well made movie that captured so much of what was real about Iraq. From my point of view, a very well made movie that captured so much of what was real about loving someone in Iraq.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Happy New Year...
I like to get caught up in the new beginnings business of new year, month, pay period. I make grand and sweeping plans to change for the better. Budgets and lifting schedules and book clubs are created and forgotten before the new has even dimmed it's glow. I'm lazy and comfortable in my easy life, I suppose. Or I take on too much too fast. Or I'm lazy and comfortable in my easy life.
2015 is no different. Or maybe it is. Maybe the idea that this is my forty fifth year has changed a little something in me. Maybe the idea that I don't want the second half of my life to be a physical or financial struggle has finally made me consider some things.
I lost seven pounds. Two to three of those have come back around these past two weeks, but I know how to get rid of them and love them more when they are gone. I have a normal budget that does not require hoops to be jumped through. I even got the first deposit into next year's Christmas fund! And I did all of that well before the ball dropped.
So what do I really resolve for 2015? Is it really to be rich and thin. Not really. Really? Truly? I resolved to just be happy. I resolve to figure out how to combat that dumb blackness that comes over me for no good reason. I resolve to figure out if it creeps in on the fog of monthly cycles or if it bursts through due to lack of chocolate. Is there a call for therapy and medicine or simply better eating and more exercising and gardening? I am betting on the latter. I am betting on doing what feels happy will keep me happy.
I think being happy will solve all my problems. If I simply follow what brings joy to me than it will be easy. And by happy, I don't mean stupidly giddy about the half full glass. I mean, well, I don't know exactly what I mean. Happy like when Harlow would find an enormous branch fallen from the tree and she would settle down and chew on it. Happy like when Hattie finds a yard full of leaves and she feels compelled to attack every one. Happy like when a kitty finds a sunspot and then another and another and then a heated blanket. I should know by now that my pets have all the answers.
So here is to 2015. I won't put too much pressure on it or me to make it the best year ever. I will make it happy. Everything else will fall into place if I just do that one simple thing.
Now off to the treadmill to walk and watch Parks and Rec. I do have other minor resolutions...
2015 is no different. Or maybe it is. Maybe the idea that this is my forty fifth year has changed a little something in me. Maybe the idea that I don't want the second half of my life to be a physical or financial struggle has finally made me consider some things.
I lost seven pounds. Two to three of those have come back around these past two weeks, but I know how to get rid of them and love them more when they are gone. I have a normal budget that does not require hoops to be jumped through. I even got the first deposit into next year's Christmas fund! And I did all of that well before the ball dropped.
So what do I really resolve for 2015? Is it really to be rich and thin. Not really. Really? Truly? I resolved to just be happy. I resolve to figure out how to combat that dumb blackness that comes over me for no good reason. I resolve to figure out if it creeps in on the fog of monthly cycles or if it bursts through due to lack of chocolate. Is there a call for therapy and medicine or simply better eating and more exercising and gardening? I am betting on the latter. I am betting on doing what feels happy will keep me happy.
I think being happy will solve all my problems. If I simply follow what brings joy to me than it will be easy. And by happy, I don't mean stupidly giddy about the half full glass. I mean, well, I don't know exactly what I mean. Happy like when Harlow would find an enormous branch fallen from the tree and she would settle down and chew on it. Happy like when Hattie finds a yard full of leaves and she feels compelled to attack every one. Happy like when a kitty finds a sunspot and then another and another and then a heated blanket. I should know by now that my pets have all the answers.
So here is to 2015. I won't put too much pressure on it or me to make it the best year ever. I will make it happy. Everything else will fall into place if I just do that one simple thing.
Now off to the treadmill to walk and watch Parks and Rec. I do have other minor resolutions...
Monday, December 22, 2014
we needed a dog
We lost Harlow five months ago and the quiet that she left behind has been unbearable. Even with two cats, it was too quiet. Too empty of empathy and interest because unless one had food or a bottle of water, the cats didn't really care. They loved on their terms. They didn't love for love's sake. We needed a dog.
There were many conversations about what and when and how. We had decided on a little dog, one that could be bathed in the sink. We wanted someone that didn't shed as much as Barron and Harlow did. We wanted someone that could go swimming, on car rides, in purses. And when I say we, I mean, he. Danny wanted someone small and more manageable. I wanted Irish wolfhounds or Scottish deerhounds. I knew that the big dog days were over and rightly so. Our lives are different now and we need someone a little more portable.
Norwich terrier, corgies, brittneys.
Too expensive, too thick of coats, too big for our sink.
And all the while I had been praying to St. Francis to bring a dog to Danny. I didn't want to choose. I just wanted one that needed us to come to us. Last Monday the prayer came true. There was a dog, just a year old that fit all of our ideals. She was orphaned, polite, trained, small, friendly, cute. It was ideal and I fell in love with her before she was ours. There was a wait period and during that time, someone with claim to her decided (and rightly so) that they wanted to have her with them. She went home last Friday with people that already knew her and loved her. They also took her kitty friend, which we would not have done, so the family was complete. But I was so angry about it. Not angry that she was going to someone else, but angry that all the things I had prayed for were presented to me and then pulled away. For as much as I like Jesus, I don't know if I will ever figure out His dad.
So, if you know me, you know that I plummeted into a dark, sad place and said really mean things to God and He probably just rolled His eyes and went back to work. He wasn't going to bring me a dog. That's why I have Danny.
Fast forward to today. I have no idea how it started, the talk of dogs. I think Danny was telling me about the happy reunion that was had. And then we started talking breeds. Danny said that he had always wanted a miniature schnauzer. Smartphones were fired up, images were loaded and someone did a breeder search of Iowa. Someone suggested that Danny call the one with available puppies. Someone suggested that he call back and arrange an adoption.
And between the time it takes to finish a dinner and load a dishwasher, we had a adopted a puppy and given her a ridiculous name.
So tomorrow, Danny, Hayley and Jacob are hitting the bank at 8am to with drawl the necessary cash and are then driving south east for 2.5 hours to pick up Hattie Megatron White.
Smaller than Harlow's muzzle. I cannot even grasp her tininess. She will weigh less than our kitties. We shopped for extra small collars and sweaters. Her bag of top of the line puppy food was half the price of Harlow and Barron's Costco food. When it is time for heart worm pills, she will take half of the smallest pill. Harlow had two of the largest. Hattie will fit in my purse, the one with the photo of Barron and Harlow on it.
There were many conversations about what and when and how. We had decided on a little dog, one that could be bathed in the sink. We wanted someone that didn't shed as much as Barron and Harlow did. We wanted someone that could go swimming, on car rides, in purses. And when I say we, I mean, he. Danny wanted someone small and more manageable. I wanted Irish wolfhounds or Scottish deerhounds. I knew that the big dog days were over and rightly so. Our lives are different now and we need someone a little more portable.
Norwich terrier, corgies, brittneys.
Too expensive, too thick of coats, too big for our sink.
And all the while I had been praying to St. Francis to bring a dog to Danny. I didn't want to choose. I just wanted one that needed us to come to us. Last Monday the prayer came true. There was a dog, just a year old that fit all of our ideals. She was orphaned, polite, trained, small, friendly, cute. It was ideal and I fell in love with her before she was ours. There was a wait period and during that time, someone with claim to her decided (and rightly so) that they wanted to have her with them. She went home last Friday with people that already knew her and loved her. They also took her kitty friend, which we would not have done, so the family was complete. But I was so angry about it. Not angry that she was going to someone else, but angry that all the things I had prayed for were presented to me and then pulled away. For as much as I like Jesus, I don't know if I will ever figure out His dad.
So, if you know me, you know that I plummeted into a dark, sad place and said really mean things to God and He probably just rolled His eyes and went back to work. He wasn't going to bring me a dog. That's why I have Danny.
Fast forward to today. I have no idea how it started, the talk of dogs. I think Danny was telling me about the happy reunion that was had. And then we started talking breeds. Danny said that he had always wanted a miniature schnauzer. Smartphones were fired up, images were loaded and someone did a breeder search of Iowa. Someone suggested that Danny call the one with available puppies. Someone suggested that he call back and arrange an adoption.
And between the time it takes to finish a dinner and load a dishwasher, we had a adopted a puppy and given her a ridiculous name.
So tomorrow, Danny, Hayley and Jacob are hitting the bank at 8am to with drawl the necessary cash and are then driving south east for 2.5 hours to pick up Hattie Megatron White.
Smaller than Harlow's muzzle. I cannot even grasp her tininess. She will weigh less than our kitties. We shopped for extra small collars and sweaters. Her bag of top of the line puppy food was half the price of Harlow and Barron's Costco food. When it is time for heart worm pills, she will take half of the smallest pill. Harlow had two of the largest. Hattie will fit in my purse, the one with the photo of Barron and Harlow on it.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
My Retail Rant
I get it. You have a limited amount of time to do an unlimited amount of holiday things. And to add to the pressure is all the magazine and pinterest perfection that either makes you aspire to do better or slump down in your own inadequacies. I am right there with you so don't take it out on me. Retail is an ever changing world and those that work in it are trying to keep pace with it as much as those that shop in it. We cannot know everything. When the clock strikes four, I am no longer working and will not go home and research online or visit coupon websites or even give my job and a second thought until 8:15 the next day.
"The Internet said you had it."
The Internet is never wrong so we must have it. Did you actually go into the store site and did it say available in stores and when you clicked on that, did it list this store? If you answered yes to all three of these questions then I am on it. I will find this item for you. I will search other stores, I will do whatever it takes to make that right. But if you answered no to any of the questions then don't blame me. The Internet says we have a lot of things we don't. Or you may think the Internet says we have it when actually its just the store getting its logo at the top of the sponsored list. I don't know how that works. I am a cashier, though I know how to navigate the Internet at a decent rate, I am not savvy to the inner workings of it.
On the same note as the Internet said you had it - my doctor said you had it is also not a viable inventory tool. At least once a week a customer comes in using those exact words. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS BABY ASPIRIN ANYMORE!!! In the past 14 years there has been a huge push to stop referring to 81mg aspirin as baby aspirin because it is not used for babies. Rye syndrome and all that. It is now 81mg aspirin. It frightens me that so many people come in and say that "my doctor told me I should take a baby aspirin a day." Maybe you need a better educated doctor.
"I got it here last year" "I always get it here" "You used to carry it"
Daily, I here one of those daily. I have been with the company 14 years and a lot has changed in the Christmas aisle alone. And a lot will continue to change as companies aquire other companies and new ideas move into the board room. There are people getting paid much more than me to buy crap from China for you to buy for this wonderful Christan holiday. I put it on the shelf, ring it up and put it in a bag. That is my relationship with most of what we sell. I know that it is frustrating to depend on a store for your holiday stationary, manicure sets, gallon bottle of Charlie, and be very frustrated when it is no longer available. But trends change and if an item is sold almost exclusively on clearance after the holiday, it probably won't be ordered in again. And when it comes to perfume gift sets, if you are only buying one $10 set of the cologne you wore in high school in 1967, you have to accept the fact that this is no longer a hot selling item and it is not profitable to the company to make many of it anymore. Heaven Sent just might not be available anymore. Deep breath and move on.
Oh, back to the Internet and colognes- yes, it may be available online. There are thousands of colognes that can be ordered for you but you must pay in advance because I am not going to have dozens of random bottles laying about, sorry those are the rules. And if I were to carry all these in store, well, this store would be a warehouse and you wouldn't shop here because it would be too big and overwhelming. Ordering it for you is the best I can do.
"Where are your gift cards?"
Gift cards, Visa cards, Green Dot and Phone cards. These are without a doubt the biggest pain in the ass. They are nothing but a scam attractor. A few days ago, a concerned morning news watcher wanted to know why we didn't keep our gift cards behind the counter. Thieves come in, take photos of the backs of gift cards and then wait. They are betting that someone will buy that card and not use it right away but hold it until Christmas, so between now and Christmas, the thieve is punching in those numbers hoping, hoping, hoping. It is a brilliant scheme and must work enough to make it worth doing and reporting on. I don't have the solution other than buy your gift cards from the middle of the rack, wait until Christmas Eve to buy them, give cash. Again, cashier, not my call.
Oh, but waiting to buy your cards on Christmas Eve along with the rest of America will probably cause the system to crash. Again, cashier here. I am not responsible for any of that and in no way can do anything to make the register, gift card activation center, hamsters on the wheel, run faster!
And while I am on the gift card bitch box, let me continue. There is a policy in place that is based on a federal law (the patriot money laundering act starring Harrison Ford, I think) that says you cannot buy more than $500 in any single type gift card per day. Not per cashier, not per store. YOU CANNOT BUY. Now obviously, I don't know if you are going from store to store, but I do know that you have brought me 15 $100 Visa Vanilla cards and I am going to explain to you that Federal law prohibits you from buying more than $500 and I will not sell more than $500.
The conversation will go along one of these lines.
Customer "I just bought 15 of these at your store in (pick location) last night without a problem."
Me "I am prohibited by federal law and there is nothing I will do (I say will instead of can because I am not fucking with federal law)."
Customer "Oh that is so stupid" "But we give them as Christmas presents" "I'll just go to another store""I have to pay a bill, a prince in Nigeria, the IRS is going to arrest me, I am trying to launder money" (OK they never say the last one, but somewhere, someone is thinking that.)
Me "The law is in place to try and prevent money laundering and fraud which can be used to support terrorist activities. If you always buy gift cards at Christmas, there is a corporate plan you can use (look a solution that they don't want to use).
Customer "Do I look like a terrorist?"
Me (in my head) "Well, you do look like you may have some Irish decent in you or English or your resemble Timothy McVay or did Jesus look like a terrorist or you don't, but your teenage son looks like he is looking for some adventure and may hop a boat to Syria, or have any of your relatives thrown tea in a harbor" (Out loud) "I won't knowingly break federal law."
And folks, when you have a man in your store that does not look like he belongs and he has a roll of hundreds and is wanting to buy several Green Dot cards and you have to explain federal law to him when you clearly know that he knows federal prison, you will see why I hate the whole damn department.
Oh, and to the lady that was trying to buy 15 cards at $100 a piece with a $5.95 activation fee, I understand that an employee inadvertently threw away a $100 bill one year and you had to give him another $100 and you feel that these cards are somehow safer. You said you had 35 employees. You will spend @208.25 in fees, you will have to spread your purchases out (legally) over 70 days, and the only one making any real money on this purchase in Visa in activation and use fees.
Lastly, don't be a ass to the cashier. Many cashiers are high school kids with worries of their own. While you waited until the last minute to buy your gift cards, he or she has waited until the last minute to do their paper or study for finals. They are missing the game, the dance, the night date because they need to save for college so they can take care of you in your old age (I hope they remember that you were an ass). Be patient when they aren't sure how to handle your transaction. These cashiers have policies to follow regarding your transaction especially if it involves anything requiring an ID. And yes, some cold medicines and diet pills require an ID. I get that you are fat and sick but I still can't sell it to you without an ID if you appear to be under age. Oh, and if you come storming over to me and say anything like "I buy my cigarettes here all the time and I don't have my ID and she (angry point) won't sell them to me" neither will I. Don't ever think I will bend any rule for you if you can't follow the rules that will get us fined and fired.
Again, there are laws in place that prevent you from buying too many of one kind of cold medicine because someone, somewhere (a lot of someones in a lot of somewheres) drank too much of it and got in a wreck, suffered brain damage, died and because some cannot have enough sense, the law is going to have sense for all of us. I am a cashier, I did not write the law, I did not vote on the law, I am only required to enforce the law. Just deal with it, write an angry letter, go away.
I know that in the midst of your holiday shopping you will encounter some very terrible cashiers, clerks, wait staff, managers. I will, too. A lot of them are under paid, most stores are under staffed, and a decent handful are under trained. If you get that service from me, I am going to say that you probably started it. You failed to treat me decently, you barked at the other cashier, you immediately started in on the long line, the poor selection or best of all, you didn't get off your phone. You bitched about all the questions on the pinpad (there are three questions, all in place for your protection). If you use a creit card there are less questions, if you write a check, there are more steps, if you pay in real cash, there are zero questions and zero risks of fraud. But on the other hand, if you are stressed and you smile, I will be fast and friendly. I will do all that I can to make this transaction stand out in your mind as the one that pulled you back from the edge. I will look in my box of coupons, I will suggest a better deal, I will share with you that I saw what you were after at Target or the Dollar Store or Beauty.com. I will stand in the aisle with you for 15 minutes while you share with me the story of your adult daughter, dieing of a brain tumor. I will listen while you tell me about her beautiful hair, her bright eyes and warm smile. I will cry with you because, after all, the rolls could be reversed and I hope that someone would be there for me in the hair care aisle.
You may be wished a Merry Christmas or a Happy Holidays or not wished anything but a nice day. Why take offense? I will wish you whatever I like. Personally, Happy Holidays is my favorite. Not because I don't want to offend you if you are a Jew, Muslim or Druid but because I want you to have a happy time from right now until you wrap it all up. Whatever that may be. I will wish some a Merry Christmas, I will internally wish some a finger in the eye. And if you are offended that I didn't wish you what you wanted to be wished, that on you. I try to change up what I am saying so I still sound sincere and not robotic. Lighten up, putting the Christ in Christmas should mean a little less judgement!
So there you have it. I just ask, for the good of all human kind to be a little kinder to everyone. You will still have jerks, buttheads, idiots but don't sink to their level. Be polite, be patient, be the person your dog thinks you already are. And if your dog thinks you're an asshole, you most definately are.
Happy Christmas and be well.
"The Internet said you had it."
The Internet is never wrong so we must have it. Did you actually go into the store site and did it say available in stores and when you clicked on that, did it list this store? If you answered yes to all three of these questions then I am on it. I will find this item for you. I will search other stores, I will do whatever it takes to make that right. But if you answered no to any of the questions then don't blame me. The Internet says we have a lot of things we don't. Or you may think the Internet says we have it when actually its just the store getting its logo at the top of the sponsored list. I don't know how that works. I am a cashier, though I know how to navigate the Internet at a decent rate, I am not savvy to the inner workings of it.
On the same note as the Internet said you had it - my doctor said you had it is also not a viable inventory tool. At least once a week a customer comes in using those exact words. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS BABY ASPIRIN ANYMORE!!! In the past 14 years there has been a huge push to stop referring to 81mg aspirin as baby aspirin because it is not used for babies. Rye syndrome and all that. It is now 81mg aspirin. It frightens me that so many people come in and say that "my doctor told me I should take a baby aspirin a day." Maybe you need a better educated doctor.
"I got it here last year" "I always get it here" "You used to carry it"
Daily, I here one of those daily. I have been with the company 14 years and a lot has changed in the Christmas aisle alone. And a lot will continue to change as companies aquire other companies and new ideas move into the board room. There are people getting paid much more than me to buy crap from China for you to buy for this wonderful Christan holiday. I put it on the shelf, ring it up and put it in a bag. That is my relationship with most of what we sell. I know that it is frustrating to depend on a store for your holiday stationary, manicure sets, gallon bottle of Charlie, and be very frustrated when it is no longer available. But trends change and if an item is sold almost exclusively on clearance after the holiday, it probably won't be ordered in again. And when it comes to perfume gift sets, if you are only buying one $10 set of the cologne you wore in high school in 1967, you have to accept the fact that this is no longer a hot selling item and it is not profitable to the company to make many of it anymore. Heaven Sent just might not be available anymore. Deep breath and move on.
Oh, back to the Internet and colognes- yes, it may be available online. There are thousands of colognes that can be ordered for you but you must pay in advance because I am not going to have dozens of random bottles laying about, sorry those are the rules. And if I were to carry all these in store, well, this store would be a warehouse and you wouldn't shop here because it would be too big and overwhelming. Ordering it for you is the best I can do.
"Where are your gift cards?"
Gift cards, Visa cards, Green Dot and Phone cards. These are without a doubt the biggest pain in the ass. They are nothing but a scam attractor. A few days ago, a concerned morning news watcher wanted to know why we didn't keep our gift cards behind the counter. Thieves come in, take photos of the backs of gift cards and then wait. They are betting that someone will buy that card and not use it right away but hold it until Christmas, so between now and Christmas, the thieve is punching in those numbers hoping, hoping, hoping. It is a brilliant scheme and must work enough to make it worth doing and reporting on. I don't have the solution other than buy your gift cards from the middle of the rack, wait until Christmas Eve to buy them, give cash. Again, cashier, not my call.
Oh, but waiting to buy your cards on Christmas Eve along with the rest of America will probably cause the system to crash. Again, cashier here. I am not responsible for any of that and in no way can do anything to make the register, gift card activation center, hamsters on the wheel, run faster!
And while I am on the gift card bitch box, let me continue. There is a policy in place that is based on a federal law (the patriot money laundering act starring Harrison Ford, I think) that says you cannot buy more than $500 in any single type gift card per day. Not per cashier, not per store. YOU CANNOT BUY. Now obviously, I don't know if you are going from store to store, but I do know that you have brought me 15 $100 Visa Vanilla cards and I am going to explain to you that Federal law prohibits you from buying more than $500 and I will not sell more than $500.
The conversation will go along one of these lines.
Customer "I just bought 15 of these at your store in (pick location) last night without a problem."
Me "I am prohibited by federal law and there is nothing I will do (I say will instead of can because I am not fucking with federal law)."
Customer "Oh that is so stupid" "But we give them as Christmas presents" "I'll just go to another store""I have to pay a bill, a prince in Nigeria, the IRS is going to arrest me, I am trying to launder money" (OK they never say the last one, but somewhere, someone is thinking that.)
Me "The law is in place to try and prevent money laundering and fraud which can be used to support terrorist activities. If you always buy gift cards at Christmas, there is a corporate plan you can use (look a solution that they don't want to use).
Customer "Do I look like a terrorist?"
Me (in my head) "Well, you do look like you may have some Irish decent in you or English or your resemble Timothy McVay or did Jesus look like a terrorist or you don't, but your teenage son looks like he is looking for some adventure and may hop a boat to Syria, or have any of your relatives thrown tea in a harbor" (Out loud) "I won't knowingly break federal law."
And folks, when you have a man in your store that does not look like he belongs and he has a roll of hundreds and is wanting to buy several Green Dot cards and you have to explain federal law to him when you clearly know that he knows federal prison, you will see why I hate the whole damn department.
Oh, and to the lady that was trying to buy 15 cards at $100 a piece with a $5.95 activation fee, I understand that an employee inadvertently threw away a $100 bill one year and you had to give him another $100 and you feel that these cards are somehow safer. You said you had 35 employees. You will spend @208.25 in fees, you will have to spread your purchases out (legally) over 70 days, and the only one making any real money on this purchase in Visa in activation and use fees.
Lastly, don't be a ass to the cashier. Many cashiers are high school kids with worries of their own. While you waited until the last minute to buy your gift cards, he or she has waited until the last minute to do their paper or study for finals. They are missing the game, the dance, the night date because they need to save for college so they can take care of you in your old age (I hope they remember that you were an ass). Be patient when they aren't sure how to handle your transaction. These cashiers have policies to follow regarding your transaction especially if it involves anything requiring an ID. And yes, some cold medicines and diet pills require an ID. I get that you are fat and sick but I still can't sell it to you without an ID if you appear to be under age. Oh, and if you come storming over to me and say anything like "I buy my cigarettes here all the time and I don't have my ID and she (angry point) won't sell them to me" neither will I. Don't ever think I will bend any rule for you if you can't follow the rules that will get us fined and fired.
Again, there are laws in place that prevent you from buying too many of one kind of cold medicine because someone, somewhere (a lot of someones in a lot of somewheres) drank too much of it and got in a wreck, suffered brain damage, died and because some cannot have enough sense, the law is going to have sense for all of us. I am a cashier, I did not write the law, I did not vote on the law, I am only required to enforce the law. Just deal with it, write an angry letter, go away.
I know that in the midst of your holiday shopping you will encounter some very terrible cashiers, clerks, wait staff, managers. I will, too. A lot of them are under paid, most stores are under staffed, and a decent handful are under trained. If you get that service from me, I am going to say that you probably started it. You failed to treat me decently, you barked at the other cashier, you immediately started in on the long line, the poor selection or best of all, you didn't get off your phone. You bitched about all the questions on the pinpad (there are three questions, all in place for your protection). If you use a creit card there are less questions, if you write a check, there are more steps, if you pay in real cash, there are zero questions and zero risks of fraud. But on the other hand, if you are stressed and you smile, I will be fast and friendly. I will do all that I can to make this transaction stand out in your mind as the one that pulled you back from the edge. I will look in my box of coupons, I will suggest a better deal, I will share with you that I saw what you were after at Target or the Dollar Store or Beauty.com. I will stand in the aisle with you for 15 minutes while you share with me the story of your adult daughter, dieing of a brain tumor. I will listen while you tell me about her beautiful hair, her bright eyes and warm smile. I will cry with you because, after all, the rolls could be reversed and I hope that someone would be there for me in the hair care aisle.
You may be wished a Merry Christmas or a Happy Holidays or not wished anything but a nice day. Why take offense? I will wish you whatever I like. Personally, Happy Holidays is my favorite. Not because I don't want to offend you if you are a Jew, Muslim or Druid but because I want you to have a happy time from right now until you wrap it all up. Whatever that may be. I will wish some a Merry Christmas, I will internally wish some a finger in the eye. And if you are offended that I didn't wish you what you wanted to be wished, that on you. I try to change up what I am saying so I still sound sincere and not robotic. Lighten up, putting the Christ in Christmas should mean a little less judgement!
So there you have it. I just ask, for the good of all human kind to be a little kinder to everyone. You will still have jerks, buttheads, idiots but don't sink to their level. Be polite, be patient, be the person your dog thinks you already are. And if your dog thinks you're an asshole, you most definately are.
Happy Christmas and be well.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Back to Mass
What? Another blog about my quest for religion/faith/spiritual guidance. It seems to me that I should be past this, but I am still wandering around, kind of like Jack Skellington during Jack's Lament. There doesn't seem to be a clearing in the woods with holiday doors. I cannot open them with an inquisitive "What's This"? I have to figure this out on my own/with the help of others/divine intervention.
I went back to mass today. I went for two reasons.
1. I had asked my church friends to pray for someone very dear to me and if they are willing to do that for me, than I need to do it as well. I know that I can (and am) praying without going to mass, but if I am asking my church community to do it then I should be part of that community as well.
2. I am still looking for the place for me.
I went to mass early to quiet my mind. It didn't work. I can't calm my mind. The conversation I have with God is silly. I tell Him things he obviously already knows. What's worse is that I sometimes thing I am telling Him what He wants to hear.
I had hoped during mass that I would have that a-ha moment. Or that I would get the shivers. Or I would feel the presence of God like Judah Ben-Hur did. But, it be honest, there was nothing monumental happening. And then it occurred to me that maybe that's how it needs to be for me. Maybe, just maybe, God is tired of laying it out for me and it is now up to me to find what it is I am looking for.
It will be 45 years next Sunday that I have been Catholic and though I don't know if that is where I belong, I do know that I am not brave enough to look elsewhere. I have come to accept that I am never going to be the Catholic or Christian that I ought to be. I will not agree with all the teachings of the one or the other. I will continue to be judgemental and mean and selfish. I will continue to support the right to choose abortion and euthanasia. I will continue to believe in gay marriage (which is just marriage). I will continue to feel strongly that much of the bible is a fable written to teach lessons. I will deny that the God of love that I have known all my life was once a jealous, vengeful God that promoted the annihilation of entire kingdoms, men, women, children and horses.
I may wander forever looking for my answers and that seems pretty pathetic. I am sure that God is rolling his eyes, yet once again. This has to be old.
But, I have forty five more years to get this faith thing right. I have forty five more years of trying to be kind and generous. I have forty five more years of building a relationship with my church community.
I went back to mass today. I went for two reasons.
1. I had asked my church friends to pray for someone very dear to me and if they are willing to do that for me, than I need to do it as well. I know that I can (and am) praying without going to mass, but if I am asking my church community to do it then I should be part of that community as well.
2. I am still looking for the place for me.
I went to mass early to quiet my mind. It didn't work. I can't calm my mind. The conversation I have with God is silly. I tell Him things he obviously already knows. What's worse is that I sometimes thing I am telling Him what He wants to hear.
I had hoped during mass that I would have that a-ha moment. Or that I would get the shivers. Or I would feel the presence of God like Judah Ben-Hur did. But, it be honest, there was nothing monumental happening. And then it occurred to me that maybe that's how it needs to be for me. Maybe, just maybe, God is tired of laying it out for me and it is now up to me to find what it is I am looking for.
It will be 45 years next Sunday that I have been Catholic and though I don't know if that is where I belong, I do know that I am not brave enough to look elsewhere. I have come to accept that I am never going to be the Catholic or Christian that I ought to be. I will not agree with all the teachings of the one or the other. I will continue to be judgemental and mean and selfish. I will continue to support the right to choose abortion and euthanasia. I will continue to believe in gay marriage (which is just marriage). I will continue to feel strongly that much of the bible is a fable written to teach lessons. I will deny that the God of love that I have known all my life was once a jealous, vengeful God that promoted the annihilation of entire kingdoms, men, women, children and horses.
I may wander forever looking for my answers and that seems pretty pathetic. I am sure that God is rolling his eyes, yet once again. This has to be old.
But, I have forty five more years to get this faith thing right. I have forty five more years of trying to be kind and generous. I have forty five more years of building a relationship with my church community.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Birthday Week Extravaganza Part 2
I left off in San Antonio.
After the penguins, my God what could there be after the penguins?
Austin. We booked a room at the ridiculously silly Brown Bed and Ball Throwing Inn. It was a treat to be able to spend some quality time with my cousin Jake and his ever so lovely wife, Amy and the daughters, Sara and Emma. Sara, I don't know if you had heard, was in an car accident a few days prior and the pain of it all had finally caught up to her. She was pretty miserable with back issues. Emma, on the other hand, was her usual witty self. We were also delighted with Gucci and her ball dropping, dog staring until the ball is thrown antics. Fred the cat didn't do much but sit behind the curtain ala Alfred Hitchcock and occasionally come out to be loved.
Jake and Amy gave us an amazing tour of Austin and by amazing, I mean that Jake would get on the wrong street and Amy would randomly point stuff of interest. It was very entertaining.
We ate at three Austin-ing places and I can't remember the names. A little Mexican place that had great not name brand soda. We ate at P. Telly's. Does that sound right? And we ate at an Austin Brewhouse. That might be what it was called. The best meal out was the one we shared at my cousin, Mary's house. Mary and her husband, Dick are Jake's parents. We also met Micheal, Jake's son. Mary is my first cousin. The Snow family tree grows oddly.
I don't think I have ever spent any quality time with my cousin Mary. The age difference between us made me just a lass when she and her husband moved from Crapids. From our conversation that evening, I learned more about my dad, his mom and my own siblings as children. Mary spilled a bottle of wine. Mary and Dick drank two bottles of wine. It was a fantastic evening.
Saturday, Danny and I went into Austin on our own. We parked the car and walked around the downtown area. We scoped out the bridge for the bats later on. We looked at Formula One cars, and Monster Girls and lots and lots of dogs. We had anticipated a lot more shopping. That was a disappointment. What was not a disappointment was the very fancy cars we saw. A Ferrari, a Bentley and something so damn fancy we couldn't name it. We also saw a lot of Formula One fancy Europeans. You know what I mean by Formula One fancy- their leather shoes are made from grass fed cows that never walked in their own poop. Their white shirts are so white they are blue. Their hair grays in the precise manner that is required of it to make them look distinguished, not old. At first I thought I wasn't Formula One Fancy, but then I decided I was. The alternative is Nascar Fancy and I am certainly not that Fancy!
Danny, being the great guy that he is, stood on the Ann Richards/Congress Bridge with me for an hour and a half because I wanted to see the bats. Danny wanted to see them, too, but I don't know if he would have stood there an hour and a half. The sun set and the bats did not come. We had walked under the bridge earlier in the day and heard a lot of chatter, but when it was time for them to leave, we saw seven fly out. Seven little bats. That was a bit of a let down, but bats migrate- who knew.
Duran Duran. The whole point of this BWE! They did not disappoint.
I have been a fan since 1983. Seventh grade when all my money was sunk into Teen Beat and Tiger Beat magazine. Quality television was Night Trax when they showed a Duran Duran video ( or any video from like minded artists). Duran Duran. John Taylor, mostly, but Duran Duran. Not ever in all my days did I think I would see them live. They never came to Iowa that I was aware of, I wasn't going to be traveling to other states. I got married, John missed his chance. They weren't touring but were collaborating with other artists. I forgot my roots and listened to country. I found my roots again but was too knee deep in little people to afford a concert. And then Danny and I reached that magical age (you know what I am talking about Lisa Moore) when the bands we loved started touring again and we could afford to see them. But still Duran Duran was never even imagined. And my husband got tickets. He is one crafty son of a bitch.
So there I am with the man that replaced John Taylor in my heart of hearts, and believe me, best choice I ever made. We are seven or so rows up from the balcony. Duran Duran is straight ahead of us. They look good and sound, well the smell like they sound. And if that statement is true (and I think it is) they smell fantastic. Considering what the 80s did to so many of their peers, Duran Duran have cleaned up their act and are putting on a great show. There was no mistaking that they were having a great time on stage and the audience completely responded. I had forgotten that I still knew all the words. I knew when to du du du duuuu.
Danny told me later that I do this thing when I am really excited or happy. And it must be completely involuntary as I didn't even realize, but I put my hands up to my lips like a First Communion candidate from the '60s. He said I was doing that a lot. I didn't cry, but I had the shivers when they first took the stage. What an amazing gift he gave me that night. Not the tickets or the trip, but the chance. I am blessed beyond measure, I truly am.
So how does one follow Duran Duran? Well, lets go back six more years to my earliest football memories. What do I find there, none other than the Dallas Cowboys. Coincidentally those Boys just happen to be my husband's favorite as well. Ashlyn and Hayley bought us tickets for our birthdays. Pulling up to Jerry's House was just funny. It is ginormous. And everywhere we looked were other Dallas fans. That was so unusual and so comforting. Everything about the stadium is over the top. But it is impressive and someday (soon) the team will be impressive again as well.
We all know what happened on the field and it wasn't pretty. And as much as a win would have been perfect, it wasn't necessary because everything else was perfect.
We toured the stadium a couple of days later and were able to go down on the field. I made Cowboys angels in the end zone. I picked bits of turf out of the star. I watched Danny walk around his Graceland. My Graceland too. Granted, there isn't the history that Texas Stadium held. It is no Lambeau Field or Soldier Field in terms of longevity but it is fucking awesome and that is good enough for me. Danny had been carrying around a hundred dollar bill since September. He was given the money by the woman he had saved the day Jacob wanted pancakes. The money was for dinner, but I told Danny to buy something he really wanted and he did. Danny bought a #11 D. White jersey. It's pretty sweet.
Our last couple of days were spent with Danny's good friend Cheto and his family. Cheto was the interpreter assigned to Team Pillage while in Kurdistan in 2004. Getting to meet the last man of that incredible team was a joy. Though Cheto was not part of the Army, he was an important part of this team and I credit him for putting up with those yahoos and for being there each time Danny was talking to village leaders. He was instrumental in Pillage's success.
We ate and ate and ate and then we drank chi. Then we went to the Middle Eastern grocery and Cheto bought us tea and Chi cups so that we could at least drink the chi at home. I opened myself up to all the new foods on the table and found that I loved it all. My mom would have been so proud. Cheto and his wife gave me history lessons about the region and was so patient with me and my ignorant questions. Such warmth and hospitality! I know we always have a place to stay in Dallas.
Our last night was in a fancy hotel in Dallas. Danny likes a fancy hotel and now that I am Formula One Fancy, I do, too. The hotel brought a piece of chocolate cake to our room for my birthday. The pool and spa were outside on the fourth floor. There were fire pits going and the Dallas skyline was lit up beautifully. It was an easy end to such a great week. I don't really have the words- this guy of mine. WOW!
So my birthday is on Monday. I took the day off of work. Danny will take a half day. Traditionally we do our Christmas shopping on my birthday. We hang out, laugh a lot and end up at a nice place for dinner. This year, John and Nick's. Then we start the twelve days of birthday (similar to the twelve days of Christmas) . Nothing happens on those twelve days, I just thought it was a creative way to keep the birthday thing going.
I'm taking Danny on a cruise for his 45th. Thankfully I have 21 months to plan. There will be no topping this one though. Luckiest girl ever!
PS We got real cowboy boots. Justin Ropers. No Shit. They are pretty sweet.
After the penguins, my God what could there be after the penguins?
Austin. We booked a room at the ridiculously silly Brown Bed and Ball Throwing Inn. It was a treat to be able to spend some quality time with my cousin Jake and his ever so lovely wife, Amy and the daughters, Sara and Emma. Sara, I don't know if you had heard, was in an car accident a few days prior and the pain of it all had finally caught up to her. She was pretty miserable with back issues. Emma, on the other hand, was her usual witty self. We were also delighted with Gucci and her ball dropping, dog staring until the ball is thrown antics. Fred the cat didn't do much but sit behind the curtain ala Alfred Hitchcock and occasionally come out to be loved.
Jake and Amy gave us an amazing tour of Austin and by amazing, I mean that Jake would get on the wrong street and Amy would randomly point stuff of interest. It was very entertaining.
We ate at three Austin-ing places and I can't remember the names. A little Mexican place that had great not name brand soda. We ate at P. Telly's. Does that sound right? And we ate at an Austin Brewhouse. That might be what it was called. The best meal out was the one we shared at my cousin, Mary's house. Mary and her husband, Dick are Jake's parents. We also met Micheal, Jake's son. Mary is my first cousin. The Snow family tree grows oddly.
I don't think I have ever spent any quality time with my cousin Mary. The age difference between us made me just a lass when she and her husband moved from Crapids. From our conversation that evening, I learned more about my dad, his mom and my own siblings as children. Mary spilled a bottle of wine. Mary and Dick drank two bottles of wine. It was a fantastic evening.
Saturday, Danny and I went into Austin on our own. We parked the car and walked around the downtown area. We scoped out the bridge for the bats later on. We looked at Formula One cars, and Monster Girls and lots and lots of dogs. We had anticipated a lot more shopping. That was a disappointment. What was not a disappointment was the very fancy cars we saw. A Ferrari, a Bentley and something so damn fancy we couldn't name it. We also saw a lot of Formula One fancy Europeans. You know what I mean by Formula One fancy- their leather shoes are made from grass fed cows that never walked in their own poop. Their white shirts are so white they are blue. Their hair grays in the precise manner that is required of it to make them look distinguished, not old. At first I thought I wasn't Formula One Fancy, but then I decided I was. The alternative is Nascar Fancy and I am certainly not that Fancy!
Danny, being the great guy that he is, stood on the Ann Richards/Congress Bridge with me for an hour and a half because I wanted to see the bats. Danny wanted to see them, too, but I don't know if he would have stood there an hour and a half. The sun set and the bats did not come. We had walked under the bridge earlier in the day and heard a lot of chatter, but when it was time for them to leave, we saw seven fly out. Seven little bats. That was a bit of a let down, but bats migrate- who knew.
Duran Duran. The whole point of this BWE! They did not disappoint.
I have been a fan since 1983. Seventh grade when all my money was sunk into Teen Beat and Tiger Beat magazine. Quality television was Night Trax when they showed a Duran Duran video ( or any video from like minded artists). Duran Duran. John Taylor, mostly, but Duran Duran. Not ever in all my days did I think I would see them live. They never came to Iowa that I was aware of, I wasn't going to be traveling to other states. I got married, John missed his chance. They weren't touring but were collaborating with other artists. I forgot my roots and listened to country. I found my roots again but was too knee deep in little people to afford a concert. And then Danny and I reached that magical age (you know what I am talking about Lisa Moore) when the bands we loved started touring again and we could afford to see them. But still Duran Duran was never even imagined. And my husband got tickets. He is one crafty son of a bitch.
So there I am with the man that replaced John Taylor in my heart of hearts, and believe me, best choice I ever made. We are seven or so rows up from the balcony. Duran Duran is straight ahead of us. They look good and sound, well the smell like they sound. And if that statement is true (and I think it is) they smell fantastic. Considering what the 80s did to so many of their peers, Duran Duran have cleaned up their act and are putting on a great show. There was no mistaking that they were having a great time on stage and the audience completely responded. I had forgotten that I still knew all the words. I knew when to du du du duuuu.
Danny told me later that I do this thing when I am really excited or happy. And it must be completely involuntary as I didn't even realize, but I put my hands up to my lips like a First Communion candidate from the '60s. He said I was doing that a lot. I didn't cry, but I had the shivers when they first took the stage. What an amazing gift he gave me that night. Not the tickets or the trip, but the chance. I am blessed beyond measure, I truly am.
So how does one follow Duran Duran? Well, lets go back six more years to my earliest football memories. What do I find there, none other than the Dallas Cowboys. Coincidentally those Boys just happen to be my husband's favorite as well. Ashlyn and Hayley bought us tickets for our birthdays. Pulling up to Jerry's House was just funny. It is ginormous. And everywhere we looked were other Dallas fans. That was so unusual and so comforting. Everything about the stadium is over the top. But it is impressive and someday (soon) the team will be impressive again as well.
We all know what happened on the field and it wasn't pretty. And as much as a win would have been perfect, it wasn't necessary because everything else was perfect.
We toured the stadium a couple of days later and were able to go down on the field. I made Cowboys angels in the end zone. I picked bits of turf out of the star. I watched Danny walk around his Graceland. My Graceland too. Granted, there isn't the history that Texas Stadium held. It is no Lambeau Field or Soldier Field in terms of longevity but it is fucking awesome and that is good enough for me. Danny had been carrying around a hundred dollar bill since September. He was given the money by the woman he had saved the day Jacob wanted pancakes. The money was for dinner, but I told Danny to buy something he really wanted and he did. Danny bought a #11 D. White jersey. It's pretty sweet.
Our last couple of days were spent with Danny's good friend Cheto and his family. Cheto was the interpreter assigned to Team Pillage while in Kurdistan in 2004. Getting to meet the last man of that incredible team was a joy. Though Cheto was not part of the Army, he was an important part of this team and I credit him for putting up with those yahoos and for being there each time Danny was talking to village leaders. He was instrumental in Pillage's success.
We ate and ate and ate and then we drank chi. Then we went to the Middle Eastern grocery and Cheto bought us tea and Chi cups so that we could at least drink the chi at home. I opened myself up to all the new foods on the table and found that I loved it all. My mom would have been so proud. Cheto and his wife gave me history lessons about the region and was so patient with me and my ignorant questions. Such warmth and hospitality! I know we always have a place to stay in Dallas.
Our last night was in a fancy hotel in Dallas. Danny likes a fancy hotel and now that I am Formula One Fancy, I do, too. The hotel brought a piece of chocolate cake to our room for my birthday. The pool and spa were outside on the fourth floor. There were fire pits going and the Dallas skyline was lit up beautifully. It was an easy end to such a great week. I don't really have the words- this guy of mine. WOW!
So my birthday is on Monday. I took the day off of work. Danny will take a half day. Traditionally we do our Christmas shopping on my birthday. We hang out, laugh a lot and end up at a nice place for dinner. This year, John and Nick's. Then we start the twelve days of birthday (similar to the twelve days of Christmas) . Nothing happens on those twelve days, I just thought it was a creative way to keep the birthday thing going.
I'm taking Danny on a cruise for his 45th. Thankfully I have 21 months to plan. There will be no topping this one though. Luckiest girl ever!
PS We got real cowboy boots. Justin Ropers. No Shit. They are pretty sweet.
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