Shhhh. I am in Cognito
I am going full force with this secret shopper thing. I have 3 more to do tomorrow. How fun! I have made $100 thus far and I am looking to make another $45 tomorrow. Not bad. Its not all I had dreamed of, but its pretty cool nonetheless.
Tomorrow evening I get to go pretend I need to buy a mattress set and remodel a kitchen. I love the kitchen one. I am buying all my appliances and need to make sure they will fit into my remodel. Oh yeah, I can pull that one off just fine.
I have applied for but not heard back from the Taco Maker. Hooray. If I get that one I have to weigh burritos. That sounds like no fun at all. Blech. That means I would have to bring them all the way home to measure them. It just seems so gross.
I would suggest it to anyone looking to make a few bucks. After all, tomorrow evening I fully expect to be able to buy a mattress like a pro. Its like free research. When my time comes to get a new one, I will know just what to look for. Much like I do now with Certificates of Deposit and bank accounts at one national chain.
Genius
I was never one to think that Vivienne is the most talented or intelligent kid out there. I never bragged when she did stuff early. I swore I would never push her unnecessarily to be the best at anything.
Well, my time has come. Tonight, out of nowhere, Vivienne started reciting numbers, IN ORDER. Before I knew it, she counted to ten. She continues to do this all night. So, as it stands now, my 19 month old child is singing the ABC song and counting from one to ten.
I am such a geek. Phil and I are convinced that she is the next Rhodes Scholar. But in reality, I think we just let her watch too much Sesame Street. Oops.
Hopeless
I hate to whine, but I think I have a right this time.
I have been freaked out about how we are going to survive money-wise when Phil stops this temp job and when my unemployment runs out. Well, unemployment ended in December and Phil's job ends Feb 28th. With the money we pay Phil through his company, 50% of it is mortgage and 40% is health insurance. After that, another 20% is car. Have you seent he flaw here? Thats 110%. That doesn't include food, gas, bills, etc. Nothing.
We thought we found an insurance alternative last night, only to realize that it would cost us MORE than what we are paying now. Almost 2x more. The main reason, again....because we are fat. NICE ONE! Phil and i are both overweight, therefore our insurance goes through the roof. I was actually told I would need to lose 50 lbs before being in a more manageable weight group.
Ok, so here is the ridiculousness of it. Insurance companies don't want to cover me because I am fat. But if I wanted to pay all that much to be covered, they still wouldn't cover the tools that would help me lose weight, like pills, surgery, classes, etc.
So you tell me, What the FUCK is that all about?
Undue Stress
Tax season is causing quite a bit of unneeded stress on me this year. Typically, I am always excited because we get quite a big check in March. I usually have my taxes done well ahead of April and we are sitting on a pretty penny come April 15th.
This year, Phil has just started his business and I have been in charge of money. We got a copy of Quickbooks and I have been like a super sleuth trying to figure this program out. In fact, there are many things that I still have no idea about.
Tonight, I am struggling through payroll taxes, state unemployment taxes, federal unemployment taxes, federal witholding, state witholding, and more. I have such a headache I could cry. I am not sure what I am doing. I have the giant fear that I will take this stuff to out accountant and he will call me screaming "What have you done????" And sadly, I won't be able to tell him, because I really don't know.
I hate to feel stupid. I hate hate hate it. And I do, more than ever. I am going to smother myself in a pillow now.
Bubba
Yesterday, when I was fleeing my home, I went to the only place that provides any comfort, Target. While shopping for a few things I need, I came across (as I always do) a cart full of crap that I do not. One of these things, was a wooden Buddha statue. I just really felt like I needed it. Perhaps it was his smiling face, his goofy pot belly, or my strange need for some enlightenment that very moment. It went directly into my cart, nestled between the kid snow boots and the new sunglasses.
When I got it home, I put it on the floor for Vivienne to see. She immediately called him "Santa", which isn't surprising because he is round and carrying a sack. He sits about a foot tall and is dark wood. She carried him around for a few minutes and then went to bed. I put him on the TV cabinet.
This morning, she went right up to him and I said "Buddha". She looked at me, smiled and said "Ahhhh. Bubba".
"Yes," I said with a big grin. "Bubba."
Runaway
For those of you who aren't now singing the Bon Jovi song "Runaway" (and for those who will have it in their head for another 45 mintues), don't let the title fool you.
Tonight was one of my first instances of running off in a long while. I had an ok day to start. Its under 30 degrees here and has been all day. Vivienne was getting restless earlier so I took her out to shop at World Market. We wasted about a half hour and headed home. We both ate lunch and she took a nap.
When she woke up, she was such a poop. She played ok but then started whining, THE WHINING. I tried to get her to do something else...but the whine persisted. Finally, I had to make dinner and the whine increases.
It was at this time that I got a phone call that suffice it to say, was unpleasant. It was concerning my husband's business. The woman on the other end was not only unpleasant, but patronizing and made me feel like an idiot.
Once Phil came home, I left. Literally, I walked out the door as soon as I straightened up the kitchen. I said good-bye to Vivienne who has ceased the whining long enough to throw a tantrum and then eat some watermelon. I told Phil that dinner was ready when he was....and bolted.
I went to Target, dorve around aimlessly. I parked and cried. I released all the anger at the lady whom I let make me feel stupid. Then I came home. All this took about an hour and a half. When I came back home, Vivienne yelled "Mama" from her room and tore around the corner to greet me, crayon in hand. She grabbed my hand, all 4 Target bags and all and lead me into her room to color. I wasn instantly OK again.
Its amazing to me. I can hold a grudge against Phil for something as uncontrollable as snoring, but I can't be mad at that kid for more than a few minutes when she is being sweet. Damn, I hate that,
I have been looking for this quote for quite a while. I am overjoyed to have found it. There have been many times in my life that I have said I was 'lucky'. Not until recent years have I come to find that I don't believe in luck. When very bad things happen, people die, people are hurt, you can always find some survivor that says "I am so lucky to be alive". Are they?
In the past year Phil and I have had many things happen that one would consider 'unlucky'. I have always tried to look in the distance about what this could mean later on versus the day it happens. This quote always comes back to me and makes me smile under the worst conditions. I hope it can do the same for you.
The Warrior and the Stallion
As told by Marilyn Whirlwind from the televeision show "Northern Exposure"
Episode 5.14, 'Bolt from the Blue'
My uncle once told me about a warrior who had a fine stallion.
Everybody said how lucky he was to have such a horse.
Maybe, he said.
One day the stallion ran off. The people said the warrior was unlucky.
Maybe, he said.
The next day, the stallion returned, leading a string of fine ponies.
The people said it was very lucky.
Maybe, the warrior said.
Later, the warrior's son was thrown from one of the ponies and broke his leg.
The people said it was unlucky.
Maybe, the warrior said.
The next week, the chief led a war party against another tribe. Many young men were killed.
But, because of his broken leg, the warrior's son was left behind, and so was spared.
Someone is really really funny.
Once, I read am article about a woman remembering her Grandmother. She learned some very wonderful things from her, but she remembers one thing the most.
When they would be forced to wait in a line, whether it be at a fast food restaurant or movie tickets, her Grandmother would ask her "Look at that man, who do you think he is?" and they would make up a story about who he was, what his family was like, what he did for a living and why he was in line. This kept them busy for minutes or hours.
That story has stuck with me. My mom always did something similar. Of course, it was born more out of nosiness than creativity. When we would go out to eat, my mother would appear to give you all of her attention. However, she would be eavesdropping on the conversation one booth over. When there was a break in the conversation (she was pretending to be involved in at her own table), she would speculate as to what they were doing based on the droplet of conversation she was lucky enough to absorb.
While I would love to look back fondly on this as bringing my imagination to the surface, I can't. In retrospect, it feels like the beginning of my recognition of my mother's self centered world.
Now that was a downer, oops. To perk back up, go visit the site and enjoy.
My Anniversary
So, yesterday was our 4th wedding anniversary. Phil's Mom and my Mom always try to make special arrangements for us to go out and for babysitting. I think they always think we are crazy when we don't take them up on it.
Phil's mom likes to offer for us to go to Williamsburg and stay at a Bed and Breakfast while they watch our baby. Um, no thanks. I like my rooms with a television and no one bothering me at breakfast. Anyway, B&Bs give me the royal creeps. All that colonial furniture and flowery wallpaper and window treatments....ew. *shudder* My mom likes to give us last minute options. She calls the weekend before and offers. Um, no plans are made at the 11th hour, Mom.
Since Phil and I agree that we were needing to do anything, we simply let it go. Then on the 10th at 11pm, I realized that the next day was our anniversary by announcing "Oh Shit, tomorrow is the 11th." Phil laughed and said "Hmmm, I suppose it is." We both forgot. We went to bed and talked a little about it, but no plans. When he was leaving for work yesterday, he says "Bye, Happy Anniversary!" To which I replied "Oh Shit, I forgot again." I am so bad.
We ended up going out to get some Sushi last night with Vivienne. I can't think of a better way to celebrate anyway. We all ate yummy stuff, spent too much money, and got to watch Vivienne learn how to eat Miso Soup. Who can beat that?
For the truly bored, click title. Enjoy!
Alias
I might be a goober, but I am so excited to have this back on. Its amazingly unrealistic, reliably goofy and typically predictable but so so so so so good. Welcome back old friends!
Ga
This is my new name. Apparently, this is the name that Vivienne has chosen to call me when I go missing. She will stand in the middle of my house and yell "GA? GAAAAaaaaaaaaAAAAAA!" I have no idea why or where it came from. Last I checked, I was Mama. I have even resorted to asking her if she was looking for Mama or Ga. She always says "Mama". I am so confused.
Secret Shopper
I have just recently started Mystery or Secret Shopping. I was excited at the prospect of making money on the side here and there with a few visits to stores. I am very opinionated about my customer service, so it seemed normal that I would enjoy critiquing people on theirs.
Well, after doing 7 of these in 3 days, I can say that I am exhausted at acting. I had to do 5 banks and 2 pharmacies. Once in the groove, they were easy to do. It took about 20 minutes of my life for each one. I was treated well at 5 of the 7 shops. It wasn't all that bad.
However, I did find myself feeling really icky by the end of today. I had to ask people questions and trick them into doing the right or wrong thing. I had to make myself obviously look like I needed help, take up this person's real working time and then walk away, knowing I wasn't going to purchase what they had been trying to sell me. I had to walk out without buying or signing up for anything. Really, it made me feel weird.
Since I have worked at restaurants and retail most of my life, I know the threat of a secret shopper is a real one. My first one at Starbucks someone really hurt my feelings when evaluating me based on looks alone. I was having a bad hair month where I had it bleached then tried to put some brown on it to only turn it pink. I tried my best to camouflage it, but to no avail. The woman really gave me a nasty lashing, said some very not nice and personally rude things about me and my looks. I will never forget that.
I am nice to a fault in mine, specifically saying that a person was "friendly" even if they didn't smile. Its not all about smiling, you know. I am hard on people who are making no effort what so ever, but still feel bad that I am literally wasting their time.
Its really just what I need, more guilt. At least this kind of guilt I get a check for afterward. Dirty, I just feel dirty.
Taking the plunge
I finally got up enough nerve to call the Preschool today. The reason I was so nervous, is because its a Presbyterian Church Preschool. Don't get me wrong, it could be a Greek Orthodox Preschool and I wouldn't know what was different from a Methodist one. All I know is that I am quite apprehensive about my kid going to school in a church. Will the classrooms have crosses and things about Jesus around? Will they make pictures of Christian things with macaroni glues onto paper plates?
You can't exactly ask someone in a church preschool if they teach about Jesus. I believe that my application would get marked with a black "X" straight away. I want her to be happy and healthy and enjoy herself. I also don't care if those symbols are present. I do care if she is taught that this is what to believe and not a choice of what to believe. I haven't found many churches that differentiate between the two.
The woman I talked to was the Director of the center and seemed wonderful. She even said that she has worked with 5 of the center's teachers for over 8 years and they all come from different spiritual backgrounds. That made me happy. No mention of God or Jesus, good good good.
I get my application for registration next week. I am invited to go by and see the place. Now I have to worry that maybe I am too progressive for a church preschool. Ugh. We shall see how far their good Christian backgrounds will take them when I walk in with all my tattoo glory.
Another One Bites the Dust
I find New Year's Eve incredibly boring. In fact, to date I can only recall one single New Years Eve that was fun. I don't drink, which has a major impact on one, if not THE biggest drunk fest of the year. This makes all the difference when choosing a place to go to have fun.
I have been to shows, I have been to parties and clubs. I have been working, at home alone, at home with Phil, at home with parents, babysitting....you name it. I remember babysitting 3 years in a row for my next door neighbors while all the parents of the neighborhood went out and got shit faced. Often, they wouldn't remember coming home and would have to pay me later. Nice.
Next I remember working at Ruby Tuesday's as a bar tender. We watched Kiss on New Year's Rockin Eve. Whopeeee. I think the next year I was all alone in my apartment and happy as a clam that it was just me. I was 22. Then I met Phil.
In 1998, we went to Philly to see Barenaked Ladies play and then to their after party. We had so much fun with them and all of their families. It was Phil, my best friend (to this day) Kym and me. We drove all the way back to DC, dropped off Kym and arrived home in VA at 7am. I drove straight through. It was so cold that there was frost on the inside of the windows. Man, that was a blur.
This year, as I have done many times, I went to be early. I don't need to see the clock strike midnight. I don't need to watch a ball drop. Lately, I am too afraid bombs will accompany the celebration. Call me a drama queen, but it freaks me out.
It was a quiet one for me. I went to bed at 11pm and read until 11:45. Phil went out with friends and got home at 230am. I woke up the next day with him, my daughter singing in the next room and my sister sleeping on the couch. Not too shabby.
