I was discussing nicknames with a friend this morning. I've never had a good one. There were a few times in grade school that kids would taunt me because my last name was similar to that of a major hot dog/bologna producer but apparently that wasn't enough for a lasting nickname. Flat Bitch caught on briefly in 8th grade thanks to the creativity of 13-year-old boys but then I went to an all-girl school and that one fell by the wayside as well. In a class of 150 girls, yelling Flat Bitch will get roughly 50% of them to say "What?" so it just wasn't effective. Plus, I wasn't really even a bitch back then. That came later. I was undeniably flat-chested but otherwise fairly friendly and well-meaning.
My first job in high school was one of those places were everyone had to have a nickname. However, my older sister worked there and they just took her nickname and added a Jr. to it. One of the managers tried to give me the nickname of "Skeeter" because he said I "buzzed about like a tiny mosquito" which was just sort of creepy and not at all true. I hated that job and I skittered about like a nervous cockroach. But unlike Theo Huxtible's friend, I did not want the nickname of Cockroach so I'm relieved no one made that connection. Fortunately "skeeter" never caught on. I should be relieved to not have earned a nickname there considering one girl had the unfortunate nickname of Bub which stood for Butt-Ugly Bitch.
In college there was a kid who started the same year as me and demanded that everyone address him as Big Dog. His license plate even said something like that. Everyone did. They were like "Yeah, that's his nickname--Big Dog" and I would tell them "No, you can't just tell people what your nickname is---it doesn't work like that. You have to earn nicknames." but my logic was lost on the masses and Big Dog turned into one of those dudes who enters a room and everyone would bark and then scream "Big Dog!" I refused.
Apparently this method is quite common because a year later I went to a conference with another kid from college and we went around the room and he said "Everyone calls me Smiley" OK, I'd known this kid for three years and never heard anyone call him Smiley. But the whole rest of the week people were like "Oh you go to school with Smiley" and I'd say "No, I go to school with JAMES. No one calls him Smiley." but then other people would be like "Smiley is so cool . . . how do you know him?" I should have lied and said we dated but he dumped me during a pregnancy scare just to get the crowd support onto my side but I don't think so quick on my feet. Plus, it's pretty hard to convince the world that someone named Smiley is a dick. Maybe I could have convinced a few that it was an ironic nickname like when you call a fat guy "Tiny" but I doubt it would have been an effective argument.
At another conference this guy was there from Cape Girardeau and he kept telling everyone that Cape Girardeau was near St. Louis (sure if "near" means 3.5 hours) and when everyone went to McDonalds one day the "Arch Deluxe" burger was number 6 on the value meal. The other kids decided that this guy's nickname should be "Six" since the Arch is in St. Louis and he's from a place near St. Louis. Convoluted. I think we were drinking---My issue was that I was actually from St. Louis and had been to the Arch for an 8th grade field trip. And if anyone watched Blossom they would know that Six is clearly a girl's name and should therefore have been my nickname.
After that I gave up for a while. There was one experience at the newsroom job where a reporter was nicknamed Franchise and for reasons far too job-specific to explain, I again felt that should be my nickname based on the fact that it dealt with my direct job duties and there was already another Jennifer working there so a nickname would help keep us from getting mixed up.
Is it too late in life for a nickname? I feel that it would cheer me up. I am going to start saying "My name is Jennifer but everyone calls me . . . " and then tell people my nickname. Now I just need to think of a nickname. Cookie? JJ? We know that Smiley and Six are taken. And Big Dog. I could maybe go with Little Dog but I'm not sure that would hold up in professional situations. Jem? That could maybe work. It's a merge of my first and middle names. Plus, Jem is truly outrageous so that's a good thing for people to remember.
I'd like your support in starting this.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Monday, November 09, 2009
Senora Grumpikins
I'm a major grump today. I feel all prickly and everything is making me annoyed and aggitated.
I called all of the credit agencies and had a fraud alert put on my account. Then they all tried to upsell me on their own additional cost fraud protection. And it seems pretty jerky to hit people when they feel vulnerable for a $15/month protection. Plus, I already fell for it with my own bank.
But at least that's done.
Other things that are annoying me? That people can't small talk in elevators anymore. If I have to ride an elevator 20 floors with a co-worker, can't we at least make nicey nice talk about the weather or something? Don't you avoid eye contact with me co-worker! I want to talk in vague generalities about my weekend to someone and since you're the only other one in here, I demand you do it! NOW! I mean seriously, I think small talk is a lost art. Silence is not golden. It is awkward and makes me feel like I'm hated by everyone. You may be thinking "Oh man, I'm tired" but I am insane and am thinking "Why won't she look at me? Does she hate me? Does she think that I'm mean? She must hate me. This is awkward. Why doesn't she like me? First I hear that someone in accounting thinks I'm a snob and now this . . maybe she knows I'm going to get fired and she doesn't want to make nice with me because I'm on the chopping block. That must be it . . . because she won't even look at me and we're only on floor 12 . . . " and so on. Please, just turn to me and say "Wow, it's warm for this time of year, isn't it" and you will save me from a suicidal jump into the elevator shaft.
Then after that psychological crisis, I come into work and some random stranger decided to call me to point out that I am not doing my job and that I should call her back because she has "ideas" on how I can better promote the company. I would love to call her back but I'm waiting until I can say something with a minimal amount of cuss words. But seriously, I get one of these calls a week. And it's not just me, others I talk to at work tell me that they get them very often too. We all seem to attract callers and e-mailers who think they can do our jobs, knowing almost nothing about our jobs. They'll say things like "I mean, why don't we do a big public service announcement on TV? And then it can air everywhere . . . " Well, because those are expensive. And we don't have the money. And even if we did make one, you'd complain about how it doesn't look exactly like how you want it to look.
Then I got an edited press release back from someone and they've circled a word and put a question mark by it. How is that editing? Really? I mean, are they saying that's not a real word or are they confused about how I'm using it? How does this help? I'm re-reading the sentence over and over again and it makes sense to me and the other four people who have had to edit it. Why is it circled? WHY? I suppose I could ask her . . .
Then, a friend of mine from a few jobs ago got some great news about winning a writing contest. Really great news. I'm happy for her, I am because she truly does work hard and is talented. But it is also making me jealous and I think it is all best summed up in this onion article. I honestly have no reason to really be jealous because I do not have anything I am working on in the world of fiction and couldn't even start a novel if I sat down and tried (I know this because I've sat down and tried and failed and usually end up with one paragraph written and way too much time searching on zappos.com).
I'm just sitting here, not winning (or entering) any contests, watching my gut get bigger not doing anything more productive than putting fraud alerts on various accounts of mine. And I know that it's my motivation problem. I could do some sit-ups or write stuff instead of sitting around watching horrible shows like Eastwick after Austin goes to bed. But instead I make a batch of turtle brownies and watch Rebecca Romijn Stamos O'Connell prance around a Hollywood set made to look like a small New England town.
I just want to go home and put on my Lazy Pants. And drink wine.
I called all of the credit agencies and had a fraud alert put on my account. Then they all tried to upsell me on their own additional cost fraud protection. And it seems pretty jerky to hit people when they feel vulnerable for a $15/month protection. Plus, I already fell for it with my own bank.
But at least that's done.
Other things that are annoying me? That people can't small talk in elevators anymore. If I have to ride an elevator 20 floors with a co-worker, can't we at least make nicey nice talk about the weather or something? Don't you avoid eye contact with me co-worker! I want to talk in vague generalities about my weekend to someone and since you're the only other one in here, I demand you do it! NOW! I mean seriously, I think small talk is a lost art. Silence is not golden. It is awkward and makes me feel like I'm hated by everyone. You may be thinking "Oh man, I'm tired" but I am insane and am thinking "Why won't she look at me? Does she hate me? Does she think that I'm mean? She must hate me. This is awkward. Why doesn't she like me? First I hear that someone in accounting thinks I'm a snob and now this . . maybe she knows I'm going to get fired and she doesn't want to make nice with me because I'm on the chopping block. That must be it . . . because she won't even look at me and we're only on floor 12 . . . " and so on. Please, just turn to me and say "Wow, it's warm for this time of year, isn't it" and you will save me from a suicidal jump into the elevator shaft.
Then after that psychological crisis, I come into work and some random stranger decided to call me to point out that I am not doing my job and that I should call her back because she has "ideas" on how I can better promote the company. I would love to call her back but I'm waiting until I can say something with a minimal amount of cuss words. But seriously, I get one of these calls a week. And it's not just me, others I talk to at work tell me that they get them very often too. We all seem to attract callers and e-mailers who think they can do our jobs, knowing almost nothing about our jobs. They'll say things like "I mean, why don't we do a big public service announcement on TV? And then it can air everywhere . . . " Well, because those are expensive. And we don't have the money. And even if we did make one, you'd complain about how it doesn't look exactly like how you want it to look.
Then I got an edited press release back from someone and they've circled a word and put a question mark by it. How is that editing? Really? I mean, are they saying that's not a real word or are they confused about how I'm using it? How does this help? I'm re-reading the sentence over and over again and it makes sense to me and the other four people who have had to edit it. Why is it circled? WHY? I suppose I could ask her . . .
Then, a friend of mine from a few jobs ago got some great news about winning a writing contest. Really great news. I'm happy for her, I am because she truly does work hard and is talented. But it is also making me jealous and I think it is all best summed up in this onion article. I honestly have no reason to really be jealous because I do not have anything I am working on in the world of fiction and couldn't even start a novel if I sat down and tried (I know this because I've sat down and tried and failed and usually end up with one paragraph written and way too much time searching on zappos.com).
I'm just sitting here, not winning (or entering) any contests, watching my gut get bigger not doing anything more productive than putting fraud alerts on various accounts of mine. And I know that it's my motivation problem. I could do some sit-ups or write stuff instead of sitting around watching horrible shows like Eastwick after Austin goes to bed. But instead I make a batch of turtle brownies and watch Rebecca Romijn Stamos O'Connell prance around a Hollywood set made to look like a small New England town.
I just want to go home and put on my Lazy Pants. And drink wine.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Sunday with nothing much to say
So I am somewhat recovered from the bad bank phone call yesterday but am still really annoyed that I'll have to spend tomorrow morning on the phone with credit bureaus filing reports. Rat bastards. But it could be worse, I keep telling myself. They could have actually spent the money and I'd be waiting to be reimbursed. As it is I'm just going to have to wait for a debit card to arrive. I received a temporary ATM card yesterday and I'm so out of practice using an ATM card. I spent about 15 minutes today figuring out how I could go grocery shopping and then I remembered I have checks. I think it is going to be easier to charge everything and then pay it all off next week when my credit card bill is due.
But we ran errands and I managed to survive without my oft-used debit card. We went to Steak 'n Shake for lunch today and it was hands down the worst dining experience I've been to in a while. Rob and I went to a wine bar/cafe for brunch yesterday and it amazes me that a place that does not even have a kids menu is more accommodating than a fast food restaurant with a kiddie menu and "kids eat free" weekend specials. Never again will I venture to the Evanston Steak 'n Shake. It should be called "Sticky Floors 'n Bad Service" It was just gross all around. I think I'm going to be ruined on Steak 'n Shake for a very long time which is probably going to be survivable since there are no Steak 'n Shakes in the Chicago city limits.
Also had another unsuccessful trip to Costco in search of regular soy milk by the crate. For just $11 I could get a box of regular soy milks which would last more than two weeks. But lately all I can find is vanilla soy milk and I'm not a food miser with him but really, he doesn't need to drink sweetened milk all the time, especially when he has no problem drinking regular soy milk. I've been to two Costcos and I keep finding crates and crates of the vanilla milk but no regular. And for some reason I can't find a damn Costco employee to save my life. Very annoying. Fortunately my newly developed love of Aldi is coming through and I'm finding containers of soy milk there for just $1.
I also completed my mission for a pair of "lazy pants" since I've been wearing my maternity yoga pants when I get home from work and take my work clothes off. They're gross and old and I'm tired of wearing them. I had a temporary bout of insanity when I went into Lululemon and the lady asked me if I was looking for "yoga pants or running pants" when I said "Lazy pants, you know for when I am just sitting around at home" and she showed me a pair of $80 pants and told me that they do free hemming. I almost tried them on and thought "Wait a minute, $80 for lazy pants? I don't spend this much on work pants and other people see me in those" so I left them in the dressing room and made it to Sports Authority today where I found a nice $30 pair of Lazy Pants with a drawstring waist. These might replace my Sopranos Wife tracksuit purchased 4 years ago from New York & Co. as my after work uniform.
I'm extremely exciting, aren't I?
But we ran errands and I managed to survive without my oft-used debit card. We went to Steak 'n Shake for lunch today and it was hands down the worst dining experience I've been to in a while. Rob and I went to a wine bar/cafe for brunch yesterday and it amazes me that a place that does not even have a kids menu is more accommodating than a fast food restaurant with a kiddie menu and "kids eat free" weekend specials. Never again will I venture to the Evanston Steak 'n Shake. It should be called "Sticky Floors 'n Bad Service" It was just gross all around. I think I'm going to be ruined on Steak 'n Shake for a very long time which is probably going to be survivable since there are no Steak 'n Shakes in the Chicago city limits.
Also had another unsuccessful trip to Costco in search of regular soy milk by the crate. For just $11 I could get a box of regular soy milks which would last more than two weeks. But lately all I can find is vanilla soy milk and I'm not a food miser with him but really, he doesn't need to drink sweetened milk all the time, especially when he has no problem drinking regular soy milk. I've been to two Costcos and I keep finding crates and crates of the vanilla milk but no regular. And for some reason I can't find a damn Costco employee to save my life. Very annoying. Fortunately my newly developed love of Aldi is coming through and I'm finding containers of soy milk there for just $1.
I also completed my mission for a pair of "lazy pants" since I've been wearing my maternity yoga pants when I get home from work and take my work clothes off. They're gross and old and I'm tired of wearing them. I had a temporary bout of insanity when I went into Lululemon and the lady asked me if I was looking for "yoga pants or running pants" when I said "Lazy pants, you know for when I am just sitting around at home" and she showed me a pair of $80 pants and told me that they do free hemming. I almost tried them on and thought "Wait a minute, $80 for lazy pants? I don't spend this much on work pants and other people see me in those" so I left them in the dressing room and made it to Sports Authority today where I found a nice $30 pair of Lazy Pants with a drawstring waist. These might replace my Sopranos Wife tracksuit purchased 4 years ago from New York & Co. as my after work uniform.
I'm extremely exciting, aren't I?
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Wake-up call from the bank
Saturdays are my day to sleep in. Generally I only sleep in until 9:30 a.m. It's late enough for me. But today at 9 the phone rang. A morning phone call is just never good. I always think something happened to my grandma and my heart stops beating. Fortunately Grandma is OK but it was my bank's fraud department. Suspicious charges on my card.
Fan-fuckin-tastic
I finally get through to an actual person and they humiliatingly list off my sad little charges "Did you charge $12 at someplace called Market Creations" Yes. "Did you charge $3 at Starbucks" Yes. Good lord, do all of my purchases revolve around food? And then "Did you charge $465 at a Dillards in Georgia" Ummmm, NO! Fortunately the good people at Dillards did not allow the charge to go through and they kept the card. So I'd like to tip my hat in their general direction. I think a few years ago it probably would have gone through but I think businesses are getting far better at this.
So card is canceled, new one is heading my way in 5 days. I have to shower and get to the bank to get a temporary card and then go through the long process of updating my online accounts like Netflix and all that shit.
Right now I'm just still freaked out and angry. How on earth did they get my number? What other info do they have? What in the world do I even do now?
Not happy at all.
My bank talked me into doing some $8/month additional fraud protection which is probably stupid but at least I have it and I can cancel it in a few months when I've settled down.
I'm really not happy.
Fan-fuckin-tastic
I finally get through to an actual person and they humiliatingly list off my sad little charges "Did you charge $12 at someplace called Market Creations" Yes. "Did you charge $3 at Starbucks" Yes. Good lord, do all of my purchases revolve around food? And then "Did you charge $465 at a Dillards in Georgia" Ummmm, NO! Fortunately the good people at Dillards did not allow the charge to go through and they kept the card. So I'd like to tip my hat in their general direction. I think a few years ago it probably would have gone through but I think businesses are getting far better at this.
So card is canceled, new one is heading my way in 5 days. I have to shower and get to the bank to get a temporary card and then go through the long process of updating my online accounts like Netflix and all that shit.
Right now I'm just still freaked out and angry. How on earth did they get my number? What other info do they have? What in the world do I even do now?
Not happy at all.
My bank talked me into doing some $8/month additional fraud protection which is probably stupid but at least I have it and I can cancel it in a few months when I've settled down.
I'm really not happy.
Friday, November 06, 2009
To all the young dudes (and the old dudes) and the stronger dudettes . . .
I woke up this morning and my arms are KILLING me. And my legs. It feels like I've worked out but I haven't actually done that since 2007. On my muscle pain scale it's like this:
Most Painful: Going to jazz/funk aerobics after only doing yoga for a year
Painful: Going to pole dance aerobics with a neighbor after no workouts for a year
Discomfort: Moving and hauling boxes
Slight discomfort: Doing yoga after a year+ yoga break
I'd have to say that right now I'm at the discomfort level. My upper arms are sore and I can only lift them so high and my thighs are absolutely killing me. It hurts to sit.
And how did this happen to me? I was nice.
Yesterday I ran up the stairs to the train and my train was just leaving so I stood there all annoyed and then saw a lady with a giant Graco stroller with a baby bucket seat in it. She first tried to lift the seat out and then grab the stroller but she realized that wouldn't work so she put the bucket seat back in and then tried to lift the whole stroller herself. She was teeny tiny too. And looked young. So I just said "Hey, do you want me to help you carry that down the stairs?" and she did so I grabbed the back end and she grabbed the front and we carried the stroller (with baby in bucket seat) down all of the stairs.
The whole time this happened numerous grown-assed men and strong looking burly chicks walked up the stairs right by us. Old men. Young men. Guys in work-out pants. Just glancing at us heaving this monstrosity of a stroller down the stairs and carrying on their merry way.
We made it to the bottom and she thanked me. I told her it was no biggie, I have a little one at home so I know how the world is not really stroller-friendly.
But I still couldn't believe that not one man said "Hey, can I help you carry it the rest of the way down" or "Hey, let me grab your half" (to the mom, this baby was tiny so it must mean that she is still recovering from childbirth--maybe just a month or two out). Nope. None of them.
I just think it's rude. Not that we're all damsels in distress or anything and must be saved by big burly men but why is it that 90% of the time it's women offering to help other women. Are we just more aware of the hell of hauling around a stroller? Because I'm not buying the usual excuse I have heard from men that they're worried a woman will think that they're harrassing them. Bullshit.
Don't get me wrong, If I see the lady at the train stop, I'll help her again (and politely mention that the next stop down the tracks has an elevator). I just kind of hope that when it was time for her to take the train home, someone helped her up the stairs too. Hopefully even more than one person.
I guess it's not so bad doing this kind of stuff. I figure two more strollers at two more train stations, I'll have Michelle Obama's arms.
Most Painful: Going to jazz/funk aerobics after only doing yoga for a year
Painful: Going to pole dance aerobics with a neighbor after no workouts for a year
Discomfort: Moving and hauling boxes
Slight discomfort: Doing yoga after a year+ yoga break
I'd have to say that right now I'm at the discomfort level. My upper arms are sore and I can only lift them so high and my thighs are absolutely killing me. It hurts to sit.
And how did this happen to me? I was nice.
Yesterday I ran up the stairs to the train and my train was just leaving so I stood there all annoyed and then saw a lady with a giant Graco stroller with a baby bucket seat in it. She first tried to lift the seat out and then grab the stroller but she realized that wouldn't work so she put the bucket seat back in and then tried to lift the whole stroller herself. She was teeny tiny too. And looked young. So I just said "Hey, do you want me to help you carry that down the stairs?" and she did so I grabbed the back end and she grabbed the front and we carried the stroller (with baby in bucket seat) down all of the stairs.
The whole time this happened numerous grown-assed men and strong looking burly chicks walked up the stairs right by us. Old men. Young men. Guys in work-out pants. Just glancing at us heaving this monstrosity of a stroller down the stairs and carrying on their merry way.
We made it to the bottom and she thanked me. I told her it was no biggie, I have a little one at home so I know how the world is not really stroller-friendly.
But I still couldn't believe that not one man said "Hey, can I help you carry it the rest of the way down" or "Hey, let me grab your half" (to the mom, this baby was tiny so it must mean that she is still recovering from childbirth--maybe just a month or two out). Nope. None of them.
I just think it's rude. Not that we're all damsels in distress or anything and must be saved by big burly men but why is it that 90% of the time it's women offering to help other women. Are we just more aware of the hell of hauling around a stroller? Because I'm not buying the usual excuse I have heard from men that they're worried a woman will think that they're harrassing them. Bullshit.
Don't get me wrong, If I see the lady at the train stop, I'll help her again (and politely mention that the next stop down the tracks has an elevator). I just kind of hope that when it was time for her to take the train home, someone helped her up the stairs too. Hopefully even more than one person.
I guess it's not so bad doing this kind of stuff. I figure two more strollers at two more train stations, I'll have Michelle Obama's arms.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Nine dollar noodles
The food party will not die. Yesterday my co-worker gave me a copy of the catalog and told me to look through it and then get things shipped to work with everyone else "since shipping costs six dollars."
So I look through the catalog and this place is ridiculous. There's a mac & cheese kit but cheese and milk must be added later. Soooo, it's noodles? Just noodles, right? And it's $9. It gets worse:
Parmesan biscuit mix: Add water & cheese. $6.50
Chicken Cacciatore Mix: Add chicken and tomatoes $9.
Box of cheese crackers: $7
Chicken & Herbed dumplings. Must add chicken and water on your own. Price? $9.
And then don't forget to add $6 to any of those prices. Crackers for 7 dollars is already weird. Crackers for $13 including shipping is insanity.
Today she stops by to find out if I want anything and I said "Oh I'm not sure" and she gets super defensive asking why not. I say "Well, it all seems kind of pricey . . . " and she responds "It's GOURMET"
So I just got talked into buying a Bacon dip kit for $6.50. Technically $12.50 after shipping.
I'm still hoping I can get out if it before I have to hand over the cash.
So I look through the catalog and this place is ridiculous. There's a mac & cheese kit but cheese and milk must be added later. Soooo, it's noodles? Just noodles, right? And it's $9. It gets worse:
Parmesan biscuit mix: Add water & cheese. $6.50
Chicken Cacciatore Mix: Add chicken and tomatoes $9.
Box of cheese crackers: $7
Chicken & Herbed dumplings. Must add chicken and water on your own. Price? $9.
And then don't forget to add $6 to any of those prices. Crackers for 7 dollars is already weird. Crackers for $13 including shipping is insanity.
Today she stops by to find out if I want anything and I said "Oh I'm not sure" and she gets super defensive asking why not. I say "Well, it all seems kind of pricey . . . " and she responds "It's GOURMET"
So I just got talked into buying a Bacon dip kit for $6.50. Technically $12.50 after shipping.
I'm still hoping I can get out if it before I have to hand over the cash.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
The pot of dirt
Earlier this year I moved our big potted house plant out to the entryway to our building becuase Austin wouldn't stop eating dirt. The plant has now died and there are just two trunk-like stems sticking out of the dirt with no leaves.
It looks bad.
So I asked Rob if he could throw out the dirt and move the pot into our storage area and I'll buy a new plant next time I'm at Home Depot (or not, I tend to be cheap and "buying house plant for condo building" is low on my list of money priorities).
A few days ago I came home and saw the pot was still there. The stems were still there too. The only thing missing was the dirt. He actually went into the common area and threw away DIRT but left stems. And the pot. They stupid dead trunklike stems are just sitting there in an empty pot.
Yes, technically I did just say "Throw away the dirt" but come on already. I wanted it gone because it looked kind of silly and low-rent and now it looks even sillier. Yesterday coming home I saw a neighbor and pointed to the pot o' dead stems and said "I'm sorry about that, we'll throw it away" and she said "Oh yeah, I thought that looked weird."
I hope they're gone when I get home. If not I'm going to do it myself and then act like a martyr about it.
I'm just one Coldwater Creek outfit away from turning into my mother.
It looks bad.
So I asked Rob if he could throw out the dirt and move the pot into our storage area and I'll buy a new plant next time I'm at Home Depot (or not, I tend to be cheap and "buying house plant for condo building" is low on my list of money priorities).
A few days ago I came home and saw the pot was still there. The stems were still there too. The only thing missing was the dirt. He actually went into the common area and threw away DIRT but left stems. And the pot. They stupid dead trunklike stems are just sitting there in an empty pot.
Yes, technically I did just say "Throw away the dirt" but come on already. I wanted it gone because it looked kind of silly and low-rent and now it looks even sillier. Yesterday coming home I saw a neighbor and pointed to the pot o' dead stems and said "I'm sorry about that, we'll throw it away" and she said "Oh yeah, I thought that looked weird."
I hope they're gone when I get home. If not I'm going to do it myself and then act like a martyr about it.
I'm just one Coldwater Creek outfit away from turning into my mother.
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