I love lists. I love making them. I love crossing things off of them. I have seen a book titled Lists to Live By and felt deeply intrigued. So, I've decided to make some lists here on my blog...mostly just for entertainment. I'd like to begin with my personal list of banned businesses. Let me explain. I have very strong feelings about customer service. I try to be reasonable, however, I get deeply upset by excessively poor work ethic or outright rudeness when I am a customer or consumer at a business establishment. I DO understand that people have bad days, but I will be honest and say that I don't have much sympathy. I have worked at a variety of locations as a part-time employee, including fast-food, clothing retail, and a grocery store. I know that rudeness can be found on both sides of the cash register. As an employee at any one of those locations, I have been treated like a child with my finger in my nose. So, I do understand that it is not always easy to put on a happy face. In fact, that's really not even a source of irritation for me. I do not expect to be entertained or even welcomed into any business. I only want to be served professionally and as efficiently as possible. With that said, I have been known to ban businesses. Because I know that people are what make or break any company, and people are inconsistent, I am always willing to give a place a second chance. However, if I deal with the same problem more than once at a location, they are forever banned. Does this solve anything? Absolutely not. However, it does make me feel better. Just for kicks, here are the businesses that are forever banned (and you would be wise to heed this list as a warning for yourself):
1. Chik-fil-A on Evans St. in Greenville, NC
2. IHOP on Evans St. in Greenville, NC
3. CVS Pharmacy on Firetower Rd. in Greenville, NC
4. Meijer on Hwy 135 in Greenwood, IN
Endangered Species: These businesses have nearly pushed me over the edge, but some places are difficult to ban because I love them so much.
1. Sonic in Holly Springs, NC for taking twenty minutes to make a kid's slush
2. Kid 2 Kid in Apex, NC for hiring teenagers with SAT scores as big as their bra sizes which is
easier to assess since their bras are literally more visible than their clothes.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Catch of the Day
Music has always been quick to penetrate my heart and mind. Without realizing it, I often tag moments in my life while listening to a song. Later, when I hear that song again, I am immediately taken back to a random, but always significant moment in my life. So much happens to a person in thirty years of living, and I am always so thankful for these little glimpses into otherwise forgotten moments. Today, I found the CD we used as a sort of soundtrack for our wedding ceremony. As I listened to it, I was flooded with memories from that day. Regretfully, I know there are so many things I don't remember. Out of those that I do, my "catch of the day" would have to be the five minutes that revolved around a drop of black cherry soda that escaped a can and landed on my dress...my unblemished, perfect wedding dress.
Shaun and I were alone with my parents in the fellowship hall of the church where our reception had just taken place. All of the remaining guests were standing outside waiting to pelt us with heart-shaped, bird and earth-friendly candy as we ran to our getaway truck. The moment was already a cumbersome one for me. I am a person who does not like to be overwhelmed by emotion when there is an audience present, and here we were at the end and beginning of a day that would seem to divide my life into two halves. Even now there are too many metaphors, too many words that could have been said at that moment to the parents who gave me life and taught me how to live it abundantly. In the most bittersweet way, they were giving me away. As a parting gift, my mom handed me a six-pack of black cherry shasta, a tradition she had started when Shaun and I were dating and would leave their house. Mercifully, one of the cans had a leak, and a tiny drop of deep, red soda dropped onto my dress as I took the cans from her. I couldn't breathe for a moment. All of the emotion I had been feeling was now concentrated onto this intruder. What happened next I will never forget. Somehow, seemingly without leaving my side, Dad produced a napkin, which he meticulously began to fold into a very tight triangle. With a steady hand, he touched the very tip of the instrument he had fashioned to the tiny drop. Instantly, it seeped into the napkin, leaving no trace on my gown. I can easily recall how amazed I was. Just as he had done so many times when I was a little girl, he had swooped in and "made it better." It seemed like a small incident at the time, but it has stuck with me all this time as one of my favorite memories of my father. The next five minutes should have been more memorable, but it's all a blur as I struggle to remember them. I know we ran out of the church through raining candy because I have seen pictures. I know Shaun's truck was destroyed by a crazed bridesmaid who should never be allowed to touch bananas or junior mints again. I know the truck read, "Just Married," but only because you could still see the words on the side of the truck at the right angle even a year ago when Shaun finally sold it. Yet it is the drop of cherry soda that stuck with me. The very next solid memory I have is the silence in Shaun's truck broken by his simple introduction, "Hello."
Shaun and I were alone with my parents in the fellowship hall of the church where our reception had just taken place. All of the remaining guests were standing outside waiting to pelt us with heart-shaped, bird and earth-friendly candy as we ran to our getaway truck. The moment was already a cumbersome one for me. I am a person who does not like to be overwhelmed by emotion when there is an audience present, and here we were at the end and beginning of a day that would seem to divide my life into two halves. Even now there are too many metaphors, too many words that could have been said at that moment to the parents who gave me life and taught me how to live it abundantly. In the most bittersweet way, they were giving me away. As a parting gift, my mom handed me a six-pack of black cherry shasta, a tradition she had started when Shaun and I were dating and would leave their house. Mercifully, one of the cans had a leak, and a tiny drop of deep, red soda dropped onto my dress as I took the cans from her. I couldn't breathe for a moment. All of the emotion I had been feeling was now concentrated onto this intruder. What happened next I will never forget. Somehow, seemingly without leaving my side, Dad produced a napkin, which he meticulously began to fold into a very tight triangle. With a steady hand, he touched the very tip of the instrument he had fashioned to the tiny drop. Instantly, it seeped into the napkin, leaving no trace on my gown. I can easily recall how amazed I was. Just as he had done so many times when I was a little girl, he had swooped in and "made it better." It seemed like a small incident at the time, but it has stuck with me all this time as one of my favorite memories of my father. The next five minutes should have been more memorable, but it's all a blur as I struggle to remember them. I know we ran out of the church through raining candy because I have seen pictures. I know Shaun's truck was destroyed by a crazed bridesmaid who should never be allowed to touch bananas or junior mints again. I know the truck read, "Just Married," but only because you could still see the words on the side of the truck at the right angle even a year ago when Shaun finally sold it. Yet it is the drop of cherry soda that stuck with me. The very next solid memory I have is the silence in Shaun's truck broken by his simple introduction, "Hello."
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Open Wide and Say "AHHHHHH!"
I've finally become egocentric (and lonely) enough to believe that others might willingly stop their own lives and read some of the random thoughts I have during the day. Deciding to start a blog is kind of like when I gave in to wearing capris. It was only a matter of time. I fought it, but capris and blogging stuck around long enough to begin to look normal. It doesn't help that I'm a recovering teacher turned stay-at-home mom with a predisposition towards being critical who spends approximately eleven hours of each day with small people who cannot yet appreciate my opinions or sarcasm. Yes, pity my husband who has to talk to people all day only to come home and have to drink from a firehose when he asks how my day was. So, to save my sanity and my marriage, I will use this blogging medium as a whipping boy. Keep in mind as you read that I don't claim to be an expert on anything. I realize all of the time just how little I know and how thankful I am that I waited just five more seconds before I opened my mouth. Maybe as I type, I can unload and still have a chance to think before I "speak." Okay. Firehose loaded. Open wide.
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