...for a different kind of girl

silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

this post brought to you with limited commercial interruption

So it's Tuesday evening as I write this and we're on day...hmm, let me check...I have no idea...of my Tool Man being gone to the nether regions of the Midwest to do the mysterious tool-related tasks he does, and forgive me for saying this because I know some of you out there who do this whole 'life' thing longer and harder (I totally just tried not to laugh there, but yeah, I'm 14, so I laughed)(also? that's what she said!)(p.s. I also used the phrase 'nether regions' up there and now I am chuckling because of that) without the routine assistance of a partner, and seriously, hats off to you. Hats off followed by long, cascading amber waves of porn hair (if I can ever get my ass into the school of beauty to clean up the crime scene that has become my roots, that is), because me? I'm tired. Or "tarred," as I imagine Oprah saying it, and believe me, if I'm imagining how Oprah sounds when she puts on that overkilled Southern accent, I'm damn tarred.

If you're the least bit curious to know why, let me tell you. Remember when my carbon monoxide detector went off in the middle of the night when Tool Man was gone? (longest link ever designed to entice you to read that great post)? Yeah, well, naturally, three smoke detectors decided this was a good week to die. On different nights. Oh, and to keep beeping even after I thought I'd determined which ones were nearing the end of their mortal coil and/or I'd tossed out into the garage in a show I'd have called "Who's The Boss?" if there hadn't already been a show called that. So that was fun around 12:30 a.m. Also at 2 a.m. Oh, and at 4:45 a.m.

Also as fun was my hard day at work today. While you mutter, "We know, we know. You work four hours a day, blah, blah, blah..." let me stage a portion of my experience in the following one-act play:

Customer: "Can you help me find a book. I don't know the title or who wrote it, but it's about a baby bear and his parents and it's nighttime and they're tired, but they can't seem to really settle on anything."

Jessica/Audrey/Rebeca (I loved those names as a kid, so I'm still trying to decide which to use for my present-day alter ego): "Would there perhaps be a little girl in the story? Maybe with, oh, I don't know, golden hair?"

Customer: "Noooooo... The book was about this big (holds hands into a square the size of a Suzy Q)(she caught me as I was heading to break, where I didn't actually have a SusyQ, but for artistic purposes, I'm using it). My Grandma used to have it, and she read it to me all the time, but she doesn't recall what it is now."

JAR, responding in the fashion booksellers do when they want customers to mosey along: "Well....hmmm."

Customer: "All I remember is it's about a baby bear and his family and they're tired and they can't really seem to settle on anything."

JAR, pulling out a few bear-related board books while nodding at the repeated description: "I'm pretty sure none of these are it, because what you're describing sounds like it was written a long time ago (and is a classic fairy tale titled 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears,' but whatever)."

Customer: "Yeah. No. It's none of these. Can you search your computer for it?"

JAR, tapping the her lithe fingers fluidly across the computer keyboard: "Sure! Oh! Look here!"

Customer, hopes up: "Did you find it???"

JAR: "Sadly, no. However, I discovered that if you type in the word 'bear and/or bears' and do a search of all children's books with said animal, you come up with nearly 8,000 titles!!"

Customer: "...."

JAR: "Is there anything else I can help you find today?"

--- and scene --

Oh, but the day gets better, my friends! I know it hardly seems feasible, but try this on for size. My youngest son, proving he's indeed his father's son, came home from school and, like he does every weekday, raced directly into the bathroom, where he proceeded to carry out his business and call his broker. Today's dash enhanced by him yelling, "I just farted, but don't worry because I'm pretty sure there's no diarrhea!"

Awesome. God? Thank you. You have blessed me beyond words.

Except ha! Psych! I have more words! Read on!

For the past several nights, my youngest son, whose been working on his stand-up act, has been trying out new material on me. It's been quite the laugh riot around the house, but do you want to know what's even more fun than answering "What kind of date do ghouls go out with?"?* It's my oldest kid pulling some sweet magic tricks on me tonight with the lame ass magic kit I thought I'd successfully throw out this week. Instead of watching that disappear in the trash, I was subject to countless attempts to find the hidden nut and "Watch me make a knot in this rope without using my hands!" In the immortal words of the Steve Miller Band, Abra-abra-cadabra, I want to reach out and grab ya's magic trick kit, saw it in three pieces, and make it disappear for good, tiny Criss Angel!

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, and even tweeted as much, the lovely Velma reminded me that oh, yes, it could, indeed, get worse by tweeting back to say a kid with a Guinness Book of World Records could be the third thing on this trifecta of , and guess who broke out in a damn cold sweat? This girl! Why? My youngest had media at school today and I kid you not, he came home with the freakin' Guinness Book of World Records, and regaled me over dinner with trivia tidbits (OK, seriously, Lee Redmond, we get it. You've had the longest fingernails for years now. You've got a lock on it. Slice them off already!). I don't know about you, but I love talking about millipedes while we're eating spaghetti. Hilarious!

Oh, yeah, Velma also mentioned whistling kids is another oh-so-awesome kid moment, and damn if my kids didn't come running to the table whistling! I'm sure they won't do that tomorrow night, though, when the menu calls for chicken stroganoff, so I've got that to look forward to.

Speaking of looking forward to, I'm now going to cap this post o' nothing off and go dig into that hunk of fantastic you see down there. You want magic? Watch me make that Reece's peanut butter egg disappear. If you made it this far, know that I'd share this with you, but you better bite quick because I could make your fingers disappear, too, if you're not careful.

P.S. Apparently I'm a giant and didn't realize it until I pulled this delicious treat out of it's packaging to indulge. That, or WTH, Hershey?! Please, refrain from making this bite (or two bites if I wish to appear dainty) any smaller, kapeesh?

* Anybody they can dig up.

Labels:

49 Comments:

Blogger Heather said...

How do you manage to not stab yourself in the eye after working there? Honestly.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009 11:43:00 PM  
Blogger Swirl Girl said...

I laughed out loud on this one!
My kids think anything that doesn't resemble the perfect cartoon dog poop is diarrhea. And, they have learned never to trust a fart.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:46:00 AM  
Blogger Kat said...

After that customer I would have been repeatedly hitting my head against the desk.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:49:00 AM  
Anonymous Kelley @ magnetoboldtoo said...

How is that an egg. It is a rectangle. Or have you Yanks gone and made rectangular eggs?

Oh and I totally know that book. But I am not telling you till you send me some of those new fangled rectangular eggs.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:08:00 AM  
Blogger Cocotte said...

Damn all that packaging designed to make us think that PB egg is going to be satisfying.

And those "Little Bear" books/cartoon? Annoying!

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 5:57:00 AM  
Blogger Sailor said...

Perhaps what you need to do is *write* the book- all about the ijiots that come to your store with questions like that.

(Overheard at border's, not long ago):

"Well, it was by a guy, or maybe a woman. There was woods, and an abandoned house, and it was scary."

Sheesh.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 6:46:00 AM  
Blogger Chag said...

I think every time you get one of these vague questions about a title, you should just direct them to Kama Sutra or something.

But then you'd be encouraging them to reproduce. Maybe not such a good idea.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:08:00 AM  
Blogger Prefers Her Fantasy Life said...

You deserve more than chocolate, my girl. Maybe a glass or two of wine--adult-sized.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:19:00 AM  
Blogger lime said...

i just thought ya might like to know lee redmond was recently in a car accident. as far as i understand the only injury she sustained was that her record holding nails were broken. but seriously. i just want to know who wipes her butt when she goes to the bathroom. there ain't no way you could do that job with nails like that. really, how could she do any job other than perhaps being a long distance nose picker?

ok, i have completely ignored all the rest of this post but i am a weird trivia geek who used to like reading funk and wagnalls for hours just to follow cross references. the guinness book of world records was my entry drug into that world of madness. just thought i'd warn you.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:27:00 AM  
Blogger Laggin said...

Ok. Your customers are more annoying than my clients. And that, my dear, is saying a lot because I work with the friggin mortgage industry. A. Lot.

And my word verification is "reffer". I love misspelled drug references!

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 8:13:00 AM  
Blogger Heather, Queen of Shake Shake said...

I've entertained the idea of getting a job at Barnes and Noble, but between you and Haluski, I think I'll pass.

BTW, I've never asked a bookseller a dumb question.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 8:27:00 AM  
Blogger Pgoodness said...

Giggling here. The people with the books, gah! (By the way, I'm looking for a book from my youth that had this magic tent...looked regular on the outside but inside was giant with all these games like pinball and stuff...any ideas? hehe)

Those Eggs are the work of the devil, I say! The ones in the package (not the bag) are bigger, but still, not big enough!!

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 8:28:00 AM  
Blogger calicobebop said...

Mmmm, peanut butter egg... It's that time of year again! Gotta love the extra calories that Easter presses upon us. Can't help myself!

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 8:32:00 AM  
Blogger Dana's Brain said...

I read somewhere that those Reese's eggs have the most calories of any Easter Candy. Bring it on, I say!!

Because you have had a tough week, sister. Possible diarrhea, asshat customers and magic tricks? I hope you chased that peanut butter egg with a shot!

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 8:33:00 AM  
Anonymous TwoBusy said...

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Lee Redmond looks like a Morlock.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:07:00 AM  
Blogger Christina Lee said...

Ummm... I downed about three of those in a row yesterday-and then felt pretty ill- they are rich- but i'll do it again today-my favorite!

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:12:00 AM  
Blogger Desmond Jones said...

(*snort*)

(*chortle*)


I'm sorry. . . I just read Lime's comment. . .

OK, better now. . .

I swear, the librarian at our kids' school finally just retired the school's copy of the Guinness Book into our family's custody, because it has only ever been checked out by our kids, over the past 14 years. . . Did you know that the World's Fattest Man weighed over 1200 lb, and was buried in a piano case? Fascinating stuff, no?

Oh, and. . . Else Minarik? Funny story about 1F and the 'Little Bear' books. . . Remind me to tell it sometime. . .

And, just because inquiring minds want to know. . . Just where, exactly, are the Nether Regions of the Midwest? 'Cuz I'm pretty sure I know where the Armpit is, but the Nether Regions just sound like so much more fun. . .

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:55:00 AM  
Blogger JoeinVegas said...

Oh, thanks, I just had to use Google images to look up lee redmond. Yes, who does all her stuff for her? It's impossible with those things (butt wiping? eww)

I thought you were required to buy those pb eggs in carton lots.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:55:00 AM  
Blogger TattooedMinivanMom said...

I don't usually bite it. Cause then I might get bit back.

Mine has a Pet Joke book. If I hear "cause it's purrrrrrfect" one more time, I'm gonna cough up a hair ball.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:57:00 AM  
Blogger Chris Wood said...

Ah, the disappearing snack trick? I'm familiar with that one.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:26:00 AM  
Blogger Melissa said...

Dang, I thought it might be "their ghoulfriend" :)

I'd have a very hard time dealing with people like Customer. Props, Girl.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:32:00 AM  
Blogger bernthis said...

i wrote a post once about a woman who walked into Borders asking for a book by Oprah. Turned out it was Anna Karenina she was looking for but couldn't believe that b/c Oprah had talked about the book on her show that she hadn't also written it.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:42:00 AM  
Blogger Betsey Booms said...

I'm telling you those eggs are smaller.

And when I pulled out the one I had hidden in the back of the fridge and opened to find a midget egg...

Well, let's just say, I was not midget pissed, I was giant angry.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:43:00 AM  
Blogger Wonderful World of Weiners said...

I got to Suzy Q and started drooling. Now need one. Bad. Thanks for nothing. You suck. But not in a bad you way. Like in a hose way. But that makes no sense.

Suzy Q anyone???

Hallie

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 12:39:00 PM  
Blogger Legallyblondemel said...

Mmmm . . . Reese's . . . mmmm.

Oh, yeah - what was I going to comment on? Um . . . something about WTH will I do if I end up having two boys? Diarrhea conversations? I'm not sure there are enough Reese's in the world to coax me through that. I just don't know.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:42:00 PM  
Blogger Peggy said...

I ate FOUR of those farking eggs last week. I even documented it on Twitter to make myself stop...no go. PMS, you win.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 1:45:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt Becky said...

Your son is my hero.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 3:47:00 PM  
Blogger Brian o vretanos said...

That's the first time I've heard of a peanut-butter egg, and I can't even find mention of them on the US "National Peanut Board" website, though there is a recipe for festive beef bites with peanut-bourbon sauce, which sounds even more intriguing...

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 4:11:00 PM  
Blogger Heather said...

I did the same thing today to the librarian...
Mmmmmm...suzy q...

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:22:00 PM  
Blogger Chas said...

I'm sorry, but that peanut butter egg was like a woman walking into a room showing far too much cleavage. I don't care that I'm woman. I still can't take my eyes off it.

I am totally regretting my decision to pass them up today at the grocery store now. Sweet nectar that is the Reese's Peanut Butter Egg.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 7:42:00 PM  
Blogger steenky bee said...

Okay, so I've only read to "longer and harder" so far. I laughed out loud, said it out loud. Then my husband laughed out loud. My four-year old, who hasn't a clue, just chimed in laughing because he wants to fit in. You and your 14-year old inner boy just made our night. Now, I'm off to be an adult and read the rest of your post.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:23:00 PM  
Blogger musing said...

Eating too many sweets makes my heart murmur act up, but that Reese's peanut butter egg might just be worth skipping a beat or two.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:27:00 PM  
Blogger steenky bee said...

Please, please tell me that you did the whole quick type bit that travel agents and airline agents use when their checking you in. I know they're just typing garble in there whilst trying to look busy. How much do I love it that the customer showed you the size of the book.

I'd go with Audrey, if it were me only because that's the daughter in Vacation. I loved it when she got her period after they wrecked the family truckster.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 9:30:00 PM  
Blogger Mandy said...

Do you know, because of your posts, I can no longer go into a book store and ask for help because I'm petrified of being the customer in your one act play.

Thanks.

Thanks a lot.

;)

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:13:00 PM  
Blogger Bee (the one who muses) said...

See, I don't know why she would have googled it first. I mean, you can find all kinds of answers there. Just the other day i asked it how to make a baby and it showed with step by step instructions. Ahhhh Google.

Now I want chocolate.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009 10:51:00 PM  
Blogger Zip n Tizzy said...

I'm guessing Bedtime for Frances, but she's not a bear she's a badger, but, that's just my guess because every night the boys try and climb into bed with me, I see myself as Frances' father with one eye open and one eye shut saying, "do you know what'll happen to you if you don't go back to bed right now?"

I'm totally avoiding the easter aisle...La-la-la-la-la... April 12th? What's that?

Thursday, April 02, 2009 2:58:00 AM  
Blogger kaila said...

I was going to tell you that Lee Redmond was recently in an accident and busted off those nasty talons, but Lime beat me to it. *sigh*
BTW - I have two bags full of those Reeses chilling in the fridge - one at home and one at work. It's that bad.

PS- word verification? dumh thanks

Thursday, April 02, 2009 9:08:00 AM  
Blogger Meg said...

I just LOVE stupid customers. They make the world a better place. And by world, I mean the blog world, 'cause who wants to hear about SMART customers that know the NAME of hte book they want to read or even the damn author.

Also, as I am also on my home for the next few days, I feel ya on the stupid things that of course have to go wrong while your husband is away. Did you know when I'm in bed, in my home, all alone, there is ALWAYS, ALWAYS a loud, unidentifiable thump. Which makes my dog growl. And therefore, makes me turn on the fan, pull the covers over my head and pray the serial killer/zombie/ghost in my attic will not kill me today.

So, yeah, longest comment ever, but I feel ya. Good luck!

Thursday, April 02, 2009 10:48:00 AM  
Blogger Eliz said...

Tag, you're it. Sorry. Blame Anna. http://tinyurl.com/c6pp5o

Thursday, April 02, 2009 12:29:00 PM  
Blogger Jenny said...

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Thursday, April 02, 2009 1:05:00 PM  
Anonymous zelzee said...

And now they have "Mini" Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs!

It seems like you are hardly eating anything and then you look down.......... and there are 13 wrappers in front of you....

go figure..............

Thursday, April 02, 2009 7:59:00 PM  
Blogger King of New York Hacks said...

Dial tones were created for customers like that !! LOL

Friday, April 03, 2009 7:49:00 AM  
Anonymous WaltzInExile said...

This comment brought to you as an interruption, and only an interruption (in no way is this to be construed as snark or sarcasm or even related to your post):

WOOOO HOOOO IOWA!

(I completely understand if you delete this, but if you have any idea how odd it is for ME to be saying "WOOOO HOOOO IOWA" you might want to let it stand just for quirk's sake.)

Friday, April 03, 2009 11:48:00 AM  
Blogger Cameron said...

Thank God your son avoided the dreaded shart :)

Friday, April 03, 2009 1:25:00 PM  
Blogger Petra a.k.a The Wise (*Young*) Mommy said...

Dude, I need one of those Reese's eggs in my mouth NOW!

Hang in there, Tool Man will be home before you know it!

Friday, April 03, 2009 2:42:00 PM  
Blogger The Stiletto Mom said...

Now I understand why you were so looking forward to date night! Yeah he owes you!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go eat a Reeces Peanut Butter egg for breakfast. Thanks for putting that thought in my head JAR!

Saturday, April 04, 2009 8:33:00 AM  
Blogger That girl from Shallotte said...

I'm all over this entry, as they say.

Sunday, April 05, 2009 8:10:00 AM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Forgive my lack of responses here, please. I guess you could say I'm going through the withdrawals since I Hoovered down those Reece's peanut butter eggs in record time. The kind of thing where, when I was standing at the store gazing lovingly at the package, I was trying to convince myself I could actually make those six delectable eggs last a couple of weeks.

Please. As if.

She's a weak one, that FADKOG...

However, thank you all for your blatant hunger lust and other happy thoughts. Do not ask me how quickly I would Hoover you all down, because believe me, we'd both feel cheap if I were to admit it.

;)

Monday, April 06, 2009 9:04:00 PM  
Blogger MereCat said...

peanut butter egg? awesome. guinness book of world records? better get me another kind of guinness, quick. magic tricks? my two year old goes around singing "strange magic" all the time, is it kind of like that? Not goldilocks? there is a book called "somebody and the three blairs" i wish you could have suggested it because i'm sure that wasn't it, but it would have been funny to say, and it is a real book.

AAAAAAAND.... from now on I'm calling you Audrey. Or Jessica, or Rebeca. Just depends how I feel on a particular day.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009 12:56:00 PM  

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