The One With All The Cheery-ness…

I am sick of my own gloom and doom lately. So let us coverse about cheery things. Fun things. Happy things. Mmkay?

Numero Uno-
The Aidan begins t-ball practice this week. Squeeeeee! We are doing the Upward program through our church. I am so jazzed. He is ready. He is so excited to be able to finally play baseball. I promise to post a picture of him in his uniform as soon as possible.

Two-
I have begun my drawing’s for my garden’s. To scale. Front and back yards. Yes, I am that anal. I love knowing exactly where everything is. I love to be able to refer to my drawing’s at any time. It is a sickness. Get over it. I am having to use my drawing’s because it is too damn cold here to do anything else. Which sucks. I am so ready to get out into my yard. I find gardening incredibly theraputic. Being unable to really do anything is quite frustrating. Sigh.

Tres-
NASCAR has begun. My boyfriend has done okay. Well, not in California. But his new uniform is pretty hot. He is pretty hot. What was I talking about?!

Four-
The Aidan was telling me this morning that he would be going to haunted houses this Halloween. And in these haunted houses there would be “lot’s of boovy traps”. I am still laughing. Boovy traps. Where does the kid get this stuff?

See, I can be cheery. I haven’t forgotten how.

Don’t worry. I am fine. And I will be fine. I’m tough.

Ya gotta be tough when you’re dumb.

Sorry. It is a funny thing one of the men who used to work for my father would say. It has always made me laugh. I though it mught make y’all smile.

The One About The Work Drama…

Ye Gods, was there ever drama. We are talking about one crazy bunch o’ bitches. And it wasn’t just me, it was everyone. Even poor P. had a bad day, customer wise.

The week began innocently enough. And then BAM!- straight outta nowhere it went to hell in a handbasket. One of my last buys was a very difficult woman. I work in children’s re-sale, and am in fact the afternoon buyer/supervisor. She was a real piece of work. I would think it would be rather obvious that we would be unable to take clothing with spots/stains/etc. Apparently not. I began giving her back items that we would not be accepting. She became quite pissy. And actually argued with me and made me point out where these “alleged” spots were, and then argued with me that they weren’t even spots. And kept arguing. And arguing. And then came back a few minutes later to argue some more. Then she made sure to tell me that she “would be calling the owners immediately to inform them of the unspeakable way in which she was treated”. I told her to absolutely do so, that I would be calling them myself to let them know what happened. And then I went back to buying my last buy. I will be damned if that bitch did not come back in for a third time to argue with me some more. Seriously. So the lady whose last buy I am doing has been there the entire time, she heard everything that was said. She tells me to write down her name and phone number so I can give it to my boss’, should they need it, because I was not rude to the woman in any way and she would be more than happy to tell them that on my behalf. Twenty minutes later the phone rings, it is the woman’s husband. He wants to inform me that his lawyer will be contacting the store about a lawsuit they will be pursuing against me for “racial discrimination” for the way I treated his wife. I can’t make this stuff up. I told him in no uncertain terms that I did not treat his wife in any disrespectful way and he started yelling at me. So I hung up on him. I have never heard what happened next. I am guessing nothing. My boss’ are pretty laid back. We have all known each other for awhile, and they know I am not that kind of person.

Wait, it gets better. The next day I am at work, doing another buy, and I can’t take any of it. It reeks of smoke. I explain to the woman that I will be happy to take another look at it if she will just wash it and bring it back. She doesn’t seem too upset when she leaves. Twenty minutes later the phone rings. (Anyone seeing any sort of patterns here?!) This lady asks me the name of “the large fat woman who works there”. I am so dumbfounded that someone could actually say something so cruel that it takes me a few minutes to realize she means me. I was blown away. I wanted to cry. I didn’t. But I wanted to. Yes, I have put on some extra pounds in the last few years. Yes, there are valid reasons why I am not really losing weight right now. Is it anyone else’s business(not y’all- y’all can ask me anything. I love you) what my reasons are? No. But I will tell you this. I can and will lose my weight. But you will always be a mean bitch. So there.

Then there was the lady who was pissed off because we couldn’t take all of her stuff. And she wanted it all back. Which we couldn’t do. Her husband had dropped it off on Saturday and didn’t want to wait. So it was done a s a Drop-Off. Meaning he had to pre-approve the offer without knowing what it was. And read the info and INITIAL it. Um, yeah. I don’t think he did that. So she gets all bitchy and basically tells me “well we’ll just see about this”. Twenty minutes later the phone rings. I do not answer it because I have learned my lesson. Wanna guess who it was?! Her husband. And before I tell you what he said, what is it with all these women who have to have their husbands call and complain? If I have a problem with someone I take care of it myself. So he is all up in arms because his precious wifey-poo is upset. One other note- her clothes? Butt-ass ugly. That poor child is gonna be scarred for life. Truly. He informs me that “this is no way to run a business” and if “it was his business he damn sure would make sure that the customer was happy” and that he and his wife “were important people in the community and we would be soory if we didn’t fix this”. Yeah, whatever. I asked him if he signed the paper when he was doing the Drop-Off. He said yes. But he was confused as to what our policy was. Wha? Why would you leave your stuff with a store if you didn’t know how they operated? I wouldn’t. But I guess that would be because I am not a GIANT DUMBASS. I’m still waiting to hear what’s going to happen with that.

The rest of the week has gone quite well. We’ve laughed. We’ve scratched. We’ve cried. Good times. No really, all kidding aside, it was a vast improvement from the last few days. Sweet Jebus. I am glad to be off for the next two days. Crap. One day. But my beloved Daytona 500 is this weekend. GO #88! And speaking of Jr. my hubs gave me my Valentine’s Day present- a new Dale Jr. t-shirt! Can I get a WOOT-WOOT?!?!

No, really. Can I have one?

One more thing- was it worth the wait?

The thrill of victory…and the agony of defeat…

I am a very happy girl after this weekend. Except for two things. One of which pissed me off so badly I am considering sending a nasty letter to ABC/ESPN. Betches…

Sorry, back to the topic at hand. My beloved Trojans kicked some Washington butt on Saturday. I was delirious with joy. UNTIL…one of the aforementioned stations TOOK THE GAME OFF THE AIR IN THE THIRD QUARTER SO WE COULD WATCH FRICKIN IOWA AND WISCONSIN. IOWA AND WISCONSIN. CORN vs CHEESE. Apparently I am still a tiny bit upset. I just do not fathom why THE NUMBER 1 RANKED TEAM IN THE COUNTRY would have their game interrupted by THE NUMBER 9 RANKED TEAMS STUPID ASS GAME. Had that been any other team I promise you that would not have happened. Which also pisses me off. The fact that we don’t get taken seriously. Because we are in the Pac-10. Um, correct me if I am wrong- BUT AREN’T WE CONSISTENTLY WINNING GAMES/CHAMPIONSHIPS?

Then you can all bite me.

The agony of defeat would be the loss my Falcons suffered at the hands of the Carolina Panthers. It was an ugly match. DeAngelo Hall did not have a good day. There were more personal fouls in this game than I can ever remember seeing. And the Cowboys spanked the Bears. And pretty much made them their betch. It was sad.

The Braves won.

My boyfriend did not. But there is still Talladega and Atlanta. Two tracks that he has a pretty good history with. I’m not worried. Besides, there is always next year!!

And that wraps it up. We are experiencing massive Baby Drama at the moment.

I can’t believe I forgot about this!

So my boyfriend announced his new number yesterday.

88.

Which I more or less expected.

What I did NOT expect? That Bud would drop him like it’s hot. Wha? Instead, they chose Kasey Kahne as their new boy. BAH.

We have The National Guard and Mountaind Dew Amped.

Woopty-freakin-do…

I am happy about the number though. I hope he will be happier. And maybe have what it takes -support-wise- to win a championship next year.

Go Dale Jr.!!!!!

The end of an era…

I doubt any of y’all know this, but I am a NASCAR fan. You probably won’t care that much either! Tough. It’s my blog.

Dale Jr. is my pretend boyfriend.

I am super pissed that DEI(his bitch step-monster) will not let him take the number 8 with him when he goes to Hendricks Motor Sports next season. It was his grandpa’s number. He chose it specifically for that reason. I think it is petty and spiteful. I wish a pox upon her fat, greedy, spiteful head. And I hope he wins the championship. So there.

Couldn’t reach an agreement, my ass.