Sunday, August 29, 2010

5 years later....

Here we are, one year later....

So I have been doing my best to avoid anything Katrina related today. I refuse to read any of the articles or watch any of it on tv. Still too raw for me. It amazes me how one year later, I still feel the exact same way I did watching the news that morning. That fear of wondering whether or not my brother was okay is still there even though I know he's fine. I remember the exact moment when my mom told me she didn't think she and my dad were going to go back. There aren't words to explain the way it felt driving through the town I grew up in and seeing people who traveled miles just to give out food to the people who had none. Or seeing familiar landmarks destroyed. Or hearing that you're closest friends lost everything they had.

My family was blessed. Our house and all of our belongings were fine. We all lost our jobs but those should be replaceable right? In the grand scheme of things, we did pretty darn good. But the lack of work would mean we would have to move. 25 years of my life yanked right out from under me and would never ever be the same. Imagine having to pack up and leave everything you've ever known in a matter of days. It amazes me that in this horrible tragedy where I didn't lose a thing, I lost everything.

Just goes to show you how every single person was affected in some way. To all those who lost their homes or a family member or a pet, my heart truly goes out to you. To those whose belongings and loved ones were fine but you lost the only life you knew, you are not alone.

Old school: Being deaf sucks...

My mom is staying south tonight at my aunt's house so my dad and I decide to go to a movie. He was telling me he hasn't been to a movie in the theater in years because he always feels cheated. I can totally understand because nothing sucks more than forking over $20 for movie and popcorn and all that and then the movie sucks yes? So anyways, he's all excited cuz we're going to see Bee Movie and this is his first time in a stadium theater. We get the popcorn and drinks and let me tell you...this is the smallest "stadium" theater I've ever seen. I am not exaggerating when I tell you it was 6 rows. SIX. Whatever, shake it off right? So you know how when you're eating popcorn and all the butter and salt and stuff is at the top and then you finally get down to that part of the popcorn that is butterless? Sad moment right? Most theaters the popcorn is good enough to move past this sad time, but new Cinemark??? Noooooooo. NAS-TEE!!!! Couldn't even eat it. (I should probably mention that both my dad and I are the biggest popcorn whores ever to walk this Earth. Truly. Call us names, fine. Bad popcorn, you have a 5 second head start). Deep breath. The movie starts and I can't hear any of it. I know if I can't hear it, no way can my Dad hear it. I go to nicely tell the manager that my dad is hard of hearing (thought I'd get more sympathy than being hard of hearing myself) and could she please have the volume bumped up some. Manager lady gets on her little radio and apparently fake calls somebody cuz guess what volume was NOT turned up at all? Did you guess Bee Movie? I am starting to feel SOOO Italian at this point. My sweet dad being the cool older guy that he is keeps "whispering" "CAN YOU HEAR ANY OF IT? THEY DIDN'T TURN IT UP DID THEY? WANT ME TO GO?" all loud and stuff. LOVE him! So he goes out and tells manager lady that his daughter can't hear the movie (which is SO freaking hilarious to me. Why must we put the deaf blame on each other?). Again, she fake radios cuz nada. So we gave up. We decided our money back is way better than working (which is totally what is is when you are attempting to hear) through this movie. We had to ask manager lady for our refund. She didn't question a thing about it. Guess it was pretty clear when hard of hearing Dad and daughter who can't hear were asking for it. So we came home and sang Gordon Lightfoot songs while Daddy played the guitar. Life is good. :)

Retro: Snap, Crackle, Pop...

So my last blog was on locker room etiquette and I didn't really want to do etiquette again because I do love to keep you all on your toes with my subject choices, but due to the head-shaking experience of this past weekend, I've decided to venture into what I believe to be proper grocery store etiquette.

It started with shampoo. I should've known exactly how this shopping excursion was going to go simply by the challenge shampoo proved to be. So I'm trying to get to the Garnier Fructiste shampoo (based on a recommendation from a friend because she said her hair broke off less but in my personal and professional review, it made my hair big and not soft – both not good things to be) and this lady is studying every bottle on the aisle. I understand completely this action because I do it too. Problem is: her basket. It's empty and sitting in the middle of the aisle. I say excuse me because my mama raised me right and, barely glancing my way, moves it closer to the shampoo. Um, thanks? For effect (because I'm a little irritated and possibly invisible?) I stand on the bottom edge of her cart and reach way over to grab the shampoo and conditioner I need. Apparently, only then did my invisible cape fall off, because she tries to move the cart. No, it's fine, thank you, I got what I need. Jenny: 1 Grocery store: 0

Next up are the families who shop together. First off let me point out that I FULLY support doing things together as a family. I cannot stress this enough. However, when your family count is in the double digits such as 17 or so members and you are all congregating in the middle of aisle to discuss the 37 different kinds of Chex Mix and which one best suits your family's needs, it becomes more of a roadblock than quality time. Might I suggest taking turns going down the aisles? Send kids 1, 7, and 9 for the chips, then maybe kids 3-5 over there to get the milk. Hey, it's just a suggestion. I understand that it's probably hard to find stuff to do under the $500 mark when you're that numerous, but please let's work something out. I really need those Pringles you are blocking. Jenny: 1 Grocery Store: 1

And finally we have Macaroni Joe. I give Joe 100 cool points for effort here though. He tried to stay out of the way while he researched macaroni. He really, really tried. BUT…parking your cart on one side of the aisle as close to the shelf as he could get it, and then standing on the other side of the aisle with his face 2 inches from the mac boxes kind of defeated the purpose. Poor guy. Here he is thinking he's doing a world of good by keeping the aisles clear, but now nobody can get pasta OR mac 'n' cheese. And don't you know my egg noodles were behind his cart. *sigh* I fold. Well played, grocery store. Well played.

Vintage: Locker Room Etiquette...

I, as are many of you, am a member of a health club. I work out regularly and while I have not had a need to use the locker/shower aspect of the locker room yet, I have been in there to use the facilities. For those of you who have never been in a locker room, it is not entirely unusual to see some flesh. I understand that after a workout or swim in the pool many people need to shower and change and go on with their days. Now let me take this moment to point out locker room nudity is fine with me, as long as said nudity is respectful of the other people in the room. However, when nudity sits its BARE ASS on the community bench, that's when I black out and try to find my happy place. Excuse me ma'am, but there is nothing between that bench and all of your business!!! Lay a towel down for goodness sake! Some poor unsuspecting woman is going to walk in here in 15 minutes and put her bag and workout gear on that same bench, completely clueless as to what violations have occurred. So please people, think. Be aware of what you're doing. Spare those of us who just happened to look up at the wrong time. And please bring a towel.

29 + 1...

Well. Looks like I lied didn't I?  I looked you right in the reading comprehension and lied.  *shame*  Are you still talking to me?  I know I said I'd post stuff and tell stories and all that, but then I didn't.  And honestly, I just didn't want to, and I don't really even feel all that bad about it, so we're just going to have to suck it up and move.  So we're good here? Good.

So what should we talk about?  I guess I'll tell you about my birthday party since I know that's what you are most interested in. 

I turned 30.  Hooray?  Actually, I'm really okay with it because from what I hear, the 30's are the place to be.  No therapy needed.  And because I have some of the most fantastic friends ever made in the universe, they threw me a birthday party.  It was a Phantom of the Opera themed masquerade ball.  Dude, are you jealous?  Because seriously, how awesome is that? 

We all dressed up in formal gowns and fancy masks and whirled and twirled around my friend Amanda's huge living room to the soundtrack to Phantom.  And then of course when that got old, we whirled and twirled to some Flo Rida because we are nothing, if not classy. 

These ladies did such a fantastic job decorating that it still blows my mind.  The entire dining room was covered in black tablecloths and all lights were replaced with those flickering votive fake candles.  Red carnations and handmade artwork were around too, so that it had that air of old, creepy mansion or whatever.  Bottom line:  it kicked heinie.  (Unrelated question:  How exactly is heinie spelled?  Because I always feel wrong no matter how I do it?  Is it heinie?  Heiny? Heinee? Hi-Knee? Help me internet.)

So there you have it in a wee, little nutshell.  To review:  I'm 30, my friends are amazing, and I can't spell slang words for buttocks. 

The end.