Friday, September 29, 2006

Kroger Update

So I just got a call from the store manager at my local Kroger. She had been forwarded my email complaining about how they were out of basic items (chicken breasts) and how I had to deal with an asshat checkout lady (yes, I was a little more diplomatic in my letter to them than I was on my blog.)

I have to give Kroger points for actually calling and apologizing. I was told that the checkout person I had the problem with had been talked to and informed that Kroger does not support her behavior or what she told me about having to give your Kroger card and coupons BEFORE you swipe your credit card. So there, beyatch. Yes, I know I'm petty but I can't help being pleased she got in trouble for her behavior. You can't just go around making up your own rules and being nasty to people. Well, you can't if you work in customer service. I, on the other hand, make stuff up all the time. Did you know that people who eat chocolate and cereal every day are beautiful and brilliant? Oh, and astronauts.

The store manager also told me that a temp worker crashed their distribution system and prevented trucks from coming and going from the warehouse for four days. Hence the lack of food available in their store. They scrambled to get some produce from local suppliers, but they weren't able to stock the shelves like they usually do. (Really, I'm not that imaginative - I can't make this stsuff up.)

Now, I'm very familiar with computer glitches (Blogger anyone?), but wouldn't you think they would put someone a little more oh, say experienced, working with the system that is ultimately responsible for them making a profit? I'm just sayin'.

Anyway, I was impressed they called and apologized and will go back again. If only to see what could possibly happen next! I'll be sure to let you know.

P.S. I was kind of expecting her to throw a $5 gift card my way or at least a free steak or something. I mean, I did say I was NEVER coming back, so you'd think she might want to throw me a frickin' bone here, but no.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Pop Pop Fizz Fizz - You're Weird

Thank you all for commiserating with me about Kroger's complete asshattery. I have fired off a letter to their corporate offices which I'm sure will be promptly put in the circular file (aka trash can.)

I also enjoyed hearing what other peoples' addictions were after posting about my cereal, ahem, issue. I noted several people were addicted to pop (hey, I grew up in the Midwest. Side note: you can tell if someone is from the Midwest if they 1) Say "pop" instead of "soda", 2) Actually know what Euchre is and, 3) Don't pronounce the goddamn "s" in Illinois - please!)

Which causes me to share another little idiosyncracy about moi - I abhor pop. Have never had more than a sip of it in my life. Yes, yes, I hear you calling me a weirdo and all sorts of other unnecessarily cruel names - I've heard it all my life. Just imagine me attending little Sarah's birthday party and asking her mom if I could have water instead of pop. Then imagine her mom yelling, "What - you don't like pop?" and all the other children looking at me, pointing and laughing.

It's actually not pop per se that I don't like. It's the bubbles. I hate carbonation and the icky, fizziness of it on my tongue and down my throat. (Oh dear, that sentence is probably going to direct some weird sex traffic to my blog. Is that how you got here Mr. Fab? wink wink)

So, I don't drink beer or champagne either -nothing carbonated. For the toast at my wedding I have a great picture of my husband and I each holding our champagne flutes, arms charmingly entertwined, only mine was filled with Grey Goose and a splash of cranberry juice.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Love Letter to Kroger

Dear Kroger Asshats,

You suck, and I don’t mean a little.

Why is it that every time I go to your store there is no fresh seafood in the case and no employee to be found within 50 miles of the Seafood department? It’s not like I’m shopping at 6 am; we’re talking 10 am here, asshats. What, are the fishies sleeping in?

And, how in the name of all that is holy can you possibly be out of chicken breasts? Of every kind? No skinless, no skin on, no boneless, no bone in – what the fuck, Kroger? Did the Peta people bomb the chicken delivery truck or what? Because really, at this point, that is the only excuse I will accept.

I’d also like to point out that you had no avocados, no Yoplait Thick & Creamy yogurt – of any flavor, and no Silk Plain light soy milk. Since when are these specialty items?

But your worst offense, Kroger? Rude checkout people that wouldn’t recognize customer service if you stuffed it up their asses and pulled it out their noses. You see, after I put my groceries on the belt, I ran my debit card and waited for Smirky Sally to ring them up. I waited patiently with my Kroger card and coupons very visible in my hand. So when Sally gave me the total and I TRIED to give her my card and coupons, why did she look at me like I had a big ‘ol hairy mole covering half my face? And announce to the grocery store at large that it was “too late” to take my card and coupons? Too late? Was it too late for me to reach across the counter and smack the smirk off her face? ‘Cause she had clearly seen the card and coupon in my hand the whole time she was ringing me up and didn’t ask for them then. Oh no, she purposely hit “total” instead of leaving the order at “subtotal” and then trotted out the “too late” line – all the while smirking at me.

Smirky then told me I’d have to go to customer service to get my savings. I said why didn’t you just ask for my card and coupons in the beginning if you couldn’t use them at the end. More smirking. Then beyatch had the nerve to say it wasn’t her fault. I said yes it was, you need to ask the customer for the card and coupons because gee, I don’t know, that’s your job, idjit!

So Kroger, in summary, I would just like to say, and with as much feeling as possible – I hate you. I hate your nasty employees and I hate your inability to stock basic food items. You suck.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Dark and Twisty

Addiction is selfish bitch, isn't she? She sneaks up on you slowly, so by the time you notice her you can't refuse her because it's already too late - you HAVE to have her.

Oh, I've talked about my unhealthy relationship with chocolate in the past, but that's not my real addiction. Oh no, this one goes back as far as I can remember. I just haven't been brave enough to put it out there for you all to feast on before.

But now that these are popping up all over the country, I feel like I can come out of the cupboard.

Hello, my name is Katherine and I'm addicted to cereal.

Yep, me and Jerry Seinfield, like this (picture me crossing my index and middle fingers.) Seriously, did you ever notice the gazillion boxes of cereal in the kitchen cabinets of his apartment on Seinfield? That's me to a "t." My grandma once counted 20 boxes in my house. I thought she was going to faint, this woman who had taught me how to make homemade bread and tomato sauce before I was twelve.

Right now I have ten boxes of cereal in the pantry and am feeling a little anxious. I'm getting a little glowy (I don't perspire) just thinking about it. I've already checked my coupons and am planning a grocery trip for tomorrow.

I can NEVER eat just one kind of cereal - I have to mix. Three kinds is preferred but I'll settle for two if I have to. I like the nights Husband works late or is out of town so I can just have cereal for dinner instead of making the whole meat-starch-veggies-salad deal.

Tonight I had a delicious combo: base of Kashi Autumn Wheat, middle layer of Wheat Chex, and a topper of Total Raisin Bran. I really, really wanted to add Kashi Go Lean Crunch on the top but I couldn't fit it in the bowl. Note to self: buy bigger damn bowls.

I don't discriminate, I love all cereal. Golden Grahams is one of my favs as is Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Cinnamon Life but I can't have them in the house. I would eat a box in two days so I finally had to ban them. I slip every once in a while, though. Just last month I gave in to my dark and twisty (thanks Grey's Anatomy) urges and bought them. I had a coupon, see. And, I did use them to make a cereal snack mix for Husband's poker game. But I knew I would have a lot leftover - I knew it! I ate cereal 3 or 4 times a day for about a week until all the good sugar cereal was gone.

Gah! Just talking about it...whew, it's driving me crazy. I'm going to have to have another bowl. Don't judge.

What's your addiction?

Monday, September 25, 2006

Splurging at Tarjay

I just got home from Tarjay - OMG! $245.34. Wha? Who? What just happened?!

I gotta start adding in my head or writing it down on my hand before I get to the checkout. I mean, geez, a couple of nail polishes, a CD (ABBA - a classic AND on sale!), a few of those nice long-sleeve stretchy tees, a box of cereal, a couple workout tees and a sweatsuit (every chick needs to look good while working out to motivate her to do so), sunscreen (shouldn't count 'cause you gotta have it - hell, it should be FREE), a box of cereal (Kashi shredded cardboard wheat), a bunch of picture frames for the "picture wall" I'm doing of my relatives in the upstairs hallway (next time my mother-in-law comes to visit I'll tell her I'm "working on" adding her and the rest of husband's relatives, yea right.)

So I guess I have to, should, maybe select some stuff to go back. In my defense; however, it will be very difficult to focus on that task with the mariachi music blaring in the background. The guys building the house behind mine have been blasting it for about 2 weeks now, and despite keeping all of my windows closed I can hear it all too well. I'm sure it's very entertaining in small doses but at this point I'm beating my head against the wall for forgetting to buy earplugs at Target.

Side note: how about my judicious use of the html strikeout tag?? Only took me a couple of months to figure that one out, 'cause you know, isn't really that self-explanatory.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Operation Big Lips

OK, several of you have asked for "before" Operation Big Lips and "after" pictures. Hopefully they will dissuade someone from being as stupid as I was. You can clearly see the little bruises all over my lips; it's Day 3. The pic of me with lipstick is the "before." Gah!! If you weren't convinced by yesterday's post of the pain, let me just say fucking OW again. I have a tattoo and no way did it hurt as bad as this.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Me and My Big Mouth

**Warning** Salty language ahead...

Ow, ow, fuck ow!! Gah! The pain. Oh, the pain like I have never felt before, people. Mr. Fab read my mother-in-law post yesterday but insisted I should only get kudos for that one day. I'm here to say I deserve them for at least a month now.

I've had 10 shots all along the inside of my mouth under my lips and about 20 directly into my lips (am I grossing you out again Libragirl?) Again, ow, ow, fuck ow. Small point - I chose this in the name of beauty. Right now I don't feel beautiful, though, just like my lips could scare small children.

So here's what you need to know about Restylane - you better have a freakin' high tolerance to pain. I had no idea. If you recall, I had been wallowing in "Da Funk." So, I thought I'd get back on track by treating myself to a little pampering. Note to self: 30 fucking shots in the mouth won't do it, not even close.

See, I'd done a lot of research; read a gazillion articles about it. I thought I was prepared. I was not. Somehow I missed the articles that talked about how tears would be streaming out of my eyes while a sadist jabbed the inside of my mouth with a very sharp needle. Again and again.

Holy Mother of God how do Lisa Rinna and Melanie Griffith do it?? Because I had the smallest amount possible you could get and I put the pain level at an 8 out of 10. Now, I've never birthed no baby Miss Scarlett, so I guess I don't know REAL pain, but I've had various surgeries and injuries like tearing my anterior cruciate ligament in my knee. But, I gotta say, this kind of took the chocolate cake.

Was it worth it? I'll tell you in a couple of days when the swelling has gone down enough that I don't scare myself looking in the mirror. Oh, and, another small point to note, I didn't tell Husband I was doing this. He's going to get quite the scare when he walks through the door tonight.

And wouldn't you know, as soon as I pull into the driveway my neighbor comes over - with her 9 year-old-son - to chat. I was happy it was windy and I let my hair cover my mouth hoping she would leave quickly. No such luck. So I finally said something inane like "Excuse my ugly mouth, I just tried Restylane for the first time."

She was quite polite and said something equally inane back, "Oh, looks great!" It so does not. At this point, I just feel like a big (lipped), stupid idiot.

Where is My Dessert?!

So, I am giving kudos to myself this week (yes, for the entire week) for surviving a luncheon with my mother-in-law. It was not easy.

She did call me well in advance to tell me I was going - there was no inviting. She's in some women's club that I have no idea what their purpose is other than to get together and gossip. She further tells me the luncheon's featured speaker will be discussing "Retirement Facilities for the Elderly." I kid you not. These ladies are all 65+ so it's probably a good topic for THEM.

I try to politely decline, saying I'll attend another time when there is a different topic. I actually say those words over the phone but she completely ignores me. "You'll get to meet all my friends!" she says. Why do I want to do that?? They're at least 25 years older than me and live 2 hours away, so 1) We probably don't have a lot in common and, 2) I doubt I"ll ever see them again.

After more fruitless begging off it is decided (ha!) that I will be going. It was yesterday; drove 2 hours there and another 2 hours back. Played the nice, dutiful daughter-in-law. The pecan-crusted chicken was good although there were supposed to be SIX desserts and the club suddenly "lost" them. I was seriously ticked as I felt I deserved a reward for being there - come on!

And, if any of you think I'm being too hard on my MIL, we had a great relationship before she screwed it up by telling me her son treats me too good.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Never again

Gah! I just planted 13 mums, 3 rose bushes and 2 pansies. Kill. Me. Now. I hurt and I'm afraid to go take a shower.

See, that's when I have to do a body check and make sure I don't have any ticks on me. Husband got two just spreading mulch a couple of weeks ago - seriously freaked me out. Hard to get used to living in Bugland, never had to deal with that before.

I wish I could just put some Frontline between my shoulder blades like I do for Sampson. He's pretty greasy for a couple of days but then it absorbs very nicely into his skin. Why can't they make that for humans? 'Cause I can positively assure you that Deep Woods Off is total crap. I think the bugs here actually like the smell of it due to the number of welts all over my legs.

Husband and I have decided next move we're buying a condo. We end up spending so much time and money landscaping, enjoy it for two years, and then he gets transferred yet again and it seems like we did all the work for nothing. So, screw it, I've had it with flora and fauna. (Not exactly sure what "fauna" is/are but it sounded good, right?)

Wednesday, September 13, 2006


So, it's back. One of my 300 guilty pleasures, "Dancing With the Stars." Gah, how I wish I could quit you. My husband would probably pay me to stop watching. hmmm

I didn't see the first hour last night because House was on and I surely lurve me some Hugh Laurie. He's hot, he's got the accent, AND he's funny - come on!

Anyway, the costumes on DWTS were as cheesy as last season's - love it! Could Mario Lopez's pants BE any tighter?! Am I the only one who thinks Joey is secretly gay? Poor Harry Hamlin. You would have though Lisa Rinna would have taught him something before the show aired. He was painful to watch and freakishly skinny - what is it with those two?? But hey, he's got to be better than Master P who was dumped on sweet Ashley last season. Emmett - you rock, guy! Jerry Springer - oh, good God, what to say...if you can't get up once you've bent down you probably aren't going to go far on this show.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

It's Not About You, Stupid

After several days of reading heartwrenching, beautiful tributes to the 2,996 victims of 9/11 I am emotionally drained. I've cried and cried for so many lives taken way too early.

There was one tribute that offended me, though. I'm not going to say whose, just that this woman seemed to forget it should be about the victim, not about her. She trumpeted the fact that here she was a Christian woman and lo and behold she had been assigned a good, upstanding Christian woman to honor. And she knew this because she knew somebody who had attended the victim's church and blah, blah, blah.

I have to say I really wanted to smack her. Surely she wasn't trying to say that if a 9/11 victim wasn't a Christian they don't deserve to be honored? Because that's what was coming through loud and clear in her "tribute."

She reminded me of a guy I dated before I realized what an asshat he was. I was 17 and really didn't know - or care - anything about his religious beliefs. We'd been dating a few months when my beloved Grandpa passed away. After attending his funeral in another state, I returned home and was talking to my boyfriend about how sad I was. "Did he accept Jesus Christ into his heart?" boyfriend asked me. I was bewildered - "What are you talking about?" I asked, "he believed in God." "Oh, it doesn't matter if he believed in God - he has to accept Christ into his heart. If he didn't, he's in hell right now."

Yep, this is what he said to me as I cried and mourned for my Grandpa. I quickly helped him accept into his heart that we were no longer dating.

Believe whatever you want to believe but don't shove it down my throat.

Friday, September 08, 2006

I remember Marjorie C. Salamone

I am participating in the 9/11 tribute started by D. Challener Roe. Here is a little background about this wonderful project:

2,996 is a tribute to the victims of 9/11.

On September 11, 2006, 2,996 volunteer bloggers will join together for a tribute to the victims of 9/11. Each person will pay tribute to a single victim.

We will honor them by remembering their lives, and not by remembering their murderers.

I Remember Marjorie C. Salamone

I can’t even believe it’s been five years since the September 11 tragedy. It seems to be my generation’s Pearl Harbor although WWII did have an end. There appears to be no end in sight to the fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Five long years that Marjorie’s family has missed and mourned her. She was a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister. Marjorie worked at the Pentagon as a budget program analyst for the U.S. Army.

I didn’t know Marjorie but just looking at her picture, at her smile that reaches her eyes and her fiery hair, I have to think, “What a fun person she must have been. I bet she had a great sense of humor.” She looks sweet, gentle, and kind. It’s unreal to look at this picture and know that she is dead. I feel quite inadequate writing a tribute to her and I realize that I cannot even begin to do her justice; I was allowed just a glimpse of what a wonderful woman she was as I wrote this.

Marjorie grew up on a dairy farm in the small town of Pine Mountain, Georgia. She was an excellent student and graduated early from high school at the age of 16. Her brother, Dr. Richard Champion, was four years older than Marjorie and said she was solving his algebra problems when she was in the fifth grade. Marjorie attended Auburn University, graduating with an undergraduate degree in Textile Chemistry and a Masters in Textile Science. She met her husband Bernard in organic chemistry class at Auburn. "She was warm, compassionate -- a brilliant intellect, he said." They followed Auburn football passionately, even calling back to the states to see how the team was doing when they were in Alaska.

Marjorie was devoted to her daughters, Ann Marie and Amanda, who were 24 and 22, respectively, at the time of her death. She was a constant presence at their schools when they were growing up. She was thinking of Amanda on September 11, whom she helped move to New York just two weeks earlier. From her Manhattan office window a mile from the World Trade Center, Amanda saw the planes hit the towers and called her mother at the Pentagon in D.C. Marjorie comforted her and left a message on her husband’s voice mail: Amanda is safe. That is the last time he heard her voice.

Marjorie was a federal employee for 26 years and had worked in the Pentagon for the last ten. She had just moved into her current office in the E-ring a month before September 11. Her office was on the first floor, the exact area where American Airlines Flight 77 crashed. No one in her office survived.

Marjorie’s husband of more than 30 years, Dr. Ben Salamone, retired colonel in the U.S. Army, said she told him she wanted to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. She received a traditional military funeral and the Pentagon can be seen from her gravesite.

"She was judged quickly. Now, she's in heaven with the Lord," said Dr. Salamone. It’s obvious how much she was loved; her husband said, "Right after we married, we traveled for 30 years, so, in essence, we had a 30-year honeymoon. We had a wonderful time." He continued, "My wife was a very loving person, and I sincerely miss her. I saved all the letters and cards and notes she ever wrote me. One day, I'll let my daughters see them."

The “C” of Marjorie’s middle name stands for Champion. How appropriate.


Thursday, September 07, 2006

Praying On It

These two articles appeared in the newspaper on the same day this week. This is why I don't go to church any longer:

A group of women and children escaped a religious commune in the Ozarks where the leaders had been molesting young girls. The girls were told their bodies needed to be prepared for "service to God." One 63-year-old pastor told a child he was giving her "angel kisses" as he touched her sexually. The molestation perpetuated by this group has been occuring since the late 1970s.

In Norfolk, VA a Baptist minister is accused of having a sexual relationship with the wife of a married couple he was counseling. The wife says the minister "mentally manipulated" her into a sexual relationship by telling her that her husband was having an affair.

I am so sick of reading garbage like this -- literally every month there is something in the news about some religious asshat who has forced or manipulated women and children into unwanted sexual situations. It's disgusting. It doesn't seem to matter what religion -- they've all been affected.

Shortly after my husband and I started attending a church when we lived in upstate NY, one of the priests was removed for molesting children. I know there are child molestors everywhere, but it sure seems like there are more than their share involved with religion. Maybe because it is easier to manipulate people, especially children. They can pretend to be "holier than thou" and convince confused children that God wants them to do these things.

I've just gotten so disillusioned with traditional, organized religion for this reason. At this point, I believe I can pray at home just as well as at a church. I don't know that I can walk into a church now without wondering if one of the pastors is preaching about living a clean life on a Sunday morning and then molesting a child that evening.

Has the recent publicity regarding religious leaders committing illegal or inappropriate sexual acts affected how you view your religion and church?

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Bring in Da Funk

I haven't been blogging a lot The Funk.

Let's take yesterday for example - I read. That's it, nothing else. And, I mean nothing. Couldn't even bring myself to get off the couch and do little things like empty the dishwasher and clean out the coffee pot. Let alone huge projects like vaccuming, studying, and making dinner. Heck no.

Now the ironing has piled up to the point where we have more wrinkled clothes than non and I can actually see balls of dog and cat fur floating playfully past me in the air. Gross, but you didn't see me getting off the couch to iron or vacuum.

That's what The Funk does to ya. And I know I've got it. I can always tell because I go into my obsessive reading zone where I do, hear, see nothing but the words on the pages. I compulsively read one book after another. It's not like I have a pile of bestseller "must-reads"; they're just a stack of 5+ year old books from the little library branch down the road.

But if I'm reading, then I don't have to think about whatever is upsetting me enough to cause The Funk. I can retreat into my hard shell and avoid everyone and everything. I sure wish I could blame The Funk on my mother-in-law, but I've been successfully avoiding her lately. I think I know what it is; I just have to let things marinate for awhile. Preferably with Grey Goose Cosmos.

How do you get out of your funk?

Friday, September 01, 2006

Weekly Walk of Shame vol. 4

And now, for what has become one of my favorite parts of the week, it is time for the Weekly Asshat Walk of Shame...This week, many TV networks have made the nominee list. As always, feel free to submit your own nominee and vote for your favorite asshat!

  1. NBC for not pulling Emmy host Conan O'Brien's opening skit featuring a plane crash hours after the KY plane crash that killed 49 people. That's just offensive and in very bad taste.

  2. CNN for not informing anchor Kyra Phillips that her lapel mic works whether she's reporting the news or going to the bathroom. While in the bathroom she complained about her "control freak" sister-in-law to a co-worker and the entire rant was heard live by all viewers. That's going to make for some interesting conversation at the next family get together! I didn't include Kyra as a nominee, just CNN, because I think a girl should be able to expect to pee and rant in peace.

  3. CBS and ABC (The View) for photoshopping 20 lbs. off of Katie Couric and at least that much off of Rosie O'Donnell, confirming, once again, just why so many young American girls have self-image problems and eating disorders. Way to go, asshats!

So there you have it. Which nominee do you think should win this week's Asshat Walk of Shame? Or, do you have a nominee I neglected to mention? Share, so we can all make fun.

P.S. Just in case you missed last week's exciting episode, click here for the Weekly Asshat Walk of Shame Vol. 3.

Dream a Little Dream for Me

The older I get the less I remember my dreams when I wake up. Kind of bums me out.

There is one dream that I recall very clearly and it actually had a huge impact on my life. I was in my late 20s and had been dating a guy very steadily. We had got to the point where we were discussing marriage and looking at rings - everyone, including us, knew we were headed down the aisle. It was just a matter of time.

Then, one morning I woke up sweating and panting (stop it, I was alone.) My dream had been so vivid and so clear it scared me. In it, I was in a wedding dress climbing a rope. Many of my friends were there holding the rope. My boyfriend was below me, grabbing at my dress as I climbed higher and away from him.

Hmm. Interesting, no? It was a wake up call and boy am I glad I smelled that coffee! Definitely dodged a bullet there. It made me really think about our relationship and realize I did NOT want to spend the rest of my life with this control freak. 'Cause truly, that's what he was and for whatever reason, low self-esteem I think, I went along with it.

I broke up with him pretty soon afterward - much to his surprise and that of his friends who actually called me for a while asking "why why." I initiated a job transfer and moved across the country not long after that. Met a guy on a blind date, dated him for 3 1/2 months, got engaged and seven years later I still adore the heck outta him.

Have you ever had a dream that really made you think about something and make an important change?