When Eric's alarm went off like three minutes ago, and I woke up from some crazy dream about being in an earthquake in a national park, except there were trees flying around horizontally (does that happen in a real earthquake? Probably not) and then all of a sudden my parents and in-laws were there and for some reason we were going on a hike with the girls, and I was all, is this safe?, but no one else seemed to be bothered, and after mulling that over for a minute and wondering why there were cathedrals in the national park, I realized I hadn't updated the blog for like five days or something, so that's why I'm up. You're welcome.
Work Phone Call #1
Little Old Lady: I put an ad in that $500 or under section, and the girl told me it would go on the internet. Which internet? I can't find it.
Me: Um... the newspaper's website.
LOL: The paper has a website?!
When I told Stacey about this--because apparently it was her ad--she started beating her head against her desk, which was sort of alarming but also completely understandable. Then she was all, why didn't we get coffee this afternoon?, and I was like, I'm drawing a blank on that one.
Work Phone Call #2
Little Old Man (who later I discovered was Murray): Hey there, can I talk to your husband?
Me: ...Wait, what?
Murray (laughing): Uh, is this Stacey or Trish?
Me: It's Trisha, and yes, our voices are often confused.
Murray (still laughing, perhaps we need to call in the medics at this point): Ha ha ha! I was sure you were Stacey!
Me: Trust me, Stacey is going to love this story. Let me get you Tony.
Stacey: Was that Murray?
Me: I guess he didn't want to talk to my husband after all.
P.S. Stacey's husband Tony is the print shop manager, and Murray is always going back there to talk with him. I have no idea what Murray does, but since my first day, everyone's just sort of let him wander where he will, so I figure asking questions at this point would just be embarrassing.
Also, half the phone calls I get start with "Hi Stacey!" But no one had asked to speak to Eric before. I wasn't too sure how to transfer to a completely different office...
Phone Books
So Cranky Steve threw a mother of a fit on Wednesday all over phone book delivery, and the post office claiming to own mailboxes and posts and the air around it, and drivers tossing phone books on the ground as a result. It was bad enough that people were coming out of offices to watch. No one stopped him, mind you--just watched. Then he stormed out and Chris the Office Manger was all, well, better he blow up at us then the public, and I was all, uh... I'm kind of not getting your point. Well, yes, I do get her point, but why is it better to freak out in front of all of us? Aren't we real people?
The next day I just talked to him like I always do because I figured he must have been embarrassed about that, right? It must be hard to be Cranky Steve all day long, every day...
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Spoke too soon...
I had to do a cold interview on Thursday with this kid who's managing a painting business this summer, and hey, small world, his mother was the nurse who helped deliver Abby.* That has nothing to do with the story, it's just a clue so my mother knows who I'm talking about. Anyway, this kid is a mechanical engineering major, and he's extremely articulate and probably a genius because he came up with all kinds of quotes without any notice at all. At the very end of the interview I'm like, well, I need a photo of you, but if you're still in Corvallis... and he's like, no problem, I'll email one.
In my inbox yesterday was the promised picture. The subject? "Mug Shit."
And I have been giggling about that ever since.
*She brought in a newborn and was all like, this is what you're working for! And I'm like, uh, transitional labor, no one cares. Memories! Are fun.
In my inbox yesterday was the promised picture. The subject? "Mug Shit."
And I have been giggling about that ever since.
*She brought in a newborn and was all like, this is what you're working for! And I'm like, uh, transitional labor, no one cares. Memories! Are fun.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
A whole lot of nothing
I know, I know, it's been a while. Jeez, people, I have a life. And also: Easter. And also: My mother is obsessed with putting together my grandparents' 70th anniversary scrapbook and thinks I am obsessed to. (Hint: Not so much.) Um, but I try to be patient because their anniversary was in September and Mom wanted me to do this last year, but I suck.
So yesterday at work I thought Cranky Steve was going to scratch my eyes out because he left like fifteen minutes early and I was all, leaving already? That was a joke because Steve's life involves the paper and his cats, and he's always at the office until like 10 p.m. or something, I don't know, I leave at 5. And he was all, TRISHA! and I thought I saw him roll up his sleeves and that's when I put my hands up and was like, joking, joking! and I got to keep my eyeballs after all.
This is the first week back after spring break and the girls are not feeling it. Abby's supposed to be at school at 7:40 a.m. (does the school administration even know any teenagers?) and we left the house this morning at 7:38. Abby was blaming Johanna, but I was like, um, your shoes aren't on either. My goal in the morning is to simply get everyone out of the house without any crying (myself included, obviously) and this week has been a complete and utter fail. 'Cause I'm not feeling it either.
We had a rather lovely Easter and Holy Week. We had a little playdate with Johanna's friend Savannah on Thursday, and then on Friday my best friend Mara came (hi Mara!), but I couldn't feed her anything because her body is in revolt. Hmm. Well, I get the whole food sensitivity thing, but man, no coffee? Suddenly my own afflictions aren't looking so bad.
Oh, and my grandparents were in town, which is kind of why I spent a lot of my time on my parents' computer trying to crank out the anniversary scrapbook. (Thank God for photo books, honestly. I don't even want to think of how much time it would take to put this thing together the old fashioned way.) We also spent Easter Sunday with Eric's side. It was a completely gorgeous day, and we spent as much time outside as possible.
Right now Eric is ripping the carpet out of my retreat in preperation of putting in hardwood flooring. We have leftovers from the living room et al project. Also, gross: When Madie would get mad at us, she'd pee in there and that smell? Is impossible to remove. I'm trying to be generous with her memory, but at the moment it's a struggle.
And I am making dinner. This is going to be a rather thrown together affair consisting of stuff I want out of my freezer and pantry. Except for all it's thrown togetherness, it's taking a hell of a long time to prepare. Well, whatever, I guess. Oh, right: Pasta with tomatoes from our garden last year and fresh mozzarella, zucchini pancakes on the side, probably a jar of cherries because I think there's one in the back of the fridge, plus anyway when you live next door to a cherry orchard, you tend to have a lot of that in your pantry. Johanna is not a fan of spaghetti (let's face it, that's what this is) so I left out some noodles for her and she can dump all the parmesan she wants on there from that green can my parents got her for Christmas because that's just how Johanna rolls.
Um, the end. Will post pictures of my gorgeous new retreat later.
So yesterday at work I thought Cranky Steve was going to scratch my eyes out because he left like fifteen minutes early and I was all, leaving already? That was a joke because Steve's life involves the paper and his cats, and he's always at the office until like 10 p.m. or something, I don't know, I leave at 5. And he was all, TRISHA! and I thought I saw him roll up his sleeves and that's when I put my hands up and was like, joking, joking! and I got to keep my eyeballs after all.
This is the first week back after spring break and the girls are not feeling it. Abby's supposed to be at school at 7:40 a.m. (does the school administration even know any teenagers?) and we left the house this morning at 7:38. Abby was blaming Johanna, but I was like, um, your shoes aren't on either. My goal in the morning is to simply get everyone out of the house without any crying (myself included, obviously) and this week has been a complete and utter fail. 'Cause I'm not feeling it either.
We had a rather lovely Easter and Holy Week. We had a little playdate with Johanna's friend Savannah on Thursday, and then on Friday my best friend Mara came (hi Mara!), but I couldn't feed her anything because her body is in revolt. Hmm. Well, I get the whole food sensitivity thing, but man, no coffee? Suddenly my own afflictions aren't looking so bad.
Oh, and my grandparents were in town, which is kind of why I spent a lot of my time on my parents' computer trying to crank out the anniversary scrapbook. (Thank God for photo books, honestly. I don't even want to think of how much time it would take to put this thing together the old fashioned way.) We also spent Easter Sunday with Eric's side. It was a completely gorgeous day, and we spent as much time outside as possible.
Right now Eric is ripping the carpet out of my retreat in preperation of putting in hardwood flooring. We have leftovers from the living room et al project. Also, gross: When Madie would get mad at us, she'd pee in there and that smell? Is impossible to remove. I'm trying to be generous with her memory, but at the moment it's a struggle.
And I am making dinner. This is going to be a rather thrown together affair consisting of stuff I want out of my freezer and pantry. Except for all it's thrown togetherness, it's taking a hell of a long time to prepare. Well, whatever, I guess. Oh, right: Pasta with tomatoes from our garden last year and fresh mozzarella, zucchini pancakes on the side, probably a jar of cherries because I think there's one in the back of the fridge, plus anyway when you live next door to a cherry orchard, you tend to have a lot of that in your pantry. Johanna is not a fan of spaghetti (let's face it, that's what this is) so I left out some noodles for her and she can dump all the parmesan she wants on there from that green can my parents got her for Christmas because that's just how Johanna rolls.
Um, the end. Will post pictures of my gorgeous new retreat later.
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