Thank God it's the weekend. Almost

Thank God it's the weekend....er, almost

I am so ready for it to be this evening. Even though I'm going to have to work a few extra minutes to make up for coming in late from teaching, and I need to get some things listed on eBay tonight. Of course that's all subject to change if any plans arise.

Bible Study tomorrow at 2. Two services on Sunday, and various Calzones practices here and there to get ready for a possible gig on the 26th? Something like that.

I watched 40 Year Old Virgin last night. It was actually not bad. I'd been told that it was horrible and I wouldn't like it. Actually, I thought it had a lot of redeeming value. I was especially glad at the end, when he gets drunk and sad, he doesn't end up ruining it with the lady he actually loves by going for a fling with the bar bimbo. That was great.

Off to work for another hour and a half or two, then I'm FREE!!!

Kiddo Lady

My name isn't "Kiddoe!"

I'm shuddering. The Kiddoe Lady just came through the door. She's very nice. But she always calls me Kiddoe. Its probably just a reaction to spending ten months on tour with every set of kitchen volunteers referring to me as "The little girl with the headscarf," but I hate being thought of as a child. Sure, I'm short. And I sometimes don't wear a ton of makeup. One guy, in conversation as I was straightening out a rack of shoes, said, "You can't be old enough for that. You can't be any older than 17!" Actually, I'm 25. And two jobs ago, when I was 23, everyone at work thought I was in my 30's. Maybe it was the suit and heels.

Back to the lady. She's very chatty. She doesn't just want to come in and buy anything, but she has to discuss her purchases with us. And what she's going to do with them, and why she wants them. There's a certain type of customer that does that - usually very old widows in a nursing home for whom the store is their only social outing - but she doesn't fit the profile. She's perhaps in her 60's, but she has the look of a retired teacher. And at the end of it, when she's being rung up, she always manages to slip in a kiddoe. One day, after completing a very simple transaction, she told me, "You did a great job there kiddoe." It left me confused. Does she think I'm one of the program women who are here to learn basic job skills? I guess I should be thrilled to know I did well, but tacking the kiddoe on the end makes one feel like a child who's very proudly showing her mother a drawing of a tree. Or perhaps a frog. Definately green anyway. But you have to bolster their self esteem. Maybe it's a latent cocktail waitress vibe. When I worked in the bar, people who bothered to converse with me were amazed to find that I wasn't a single mother with several illegitmate but charming children. (Actual quote one time: "Where did a girl like you come up with a word like that?") It's certainly not my clothes that are the problem. We're fairly casual around here - too much hauling to break out my suits - but I usually wear nice jeans and a sweater. I digress. Maybe I should wear my assistant manager nametag more often.

Another Weekend Away

Another Weekend Away

After a week of managing the store while Nancy was out trying NOT to have pneumonia, I decided on Thursday that I needed a break. Friday after work I packed a bag, grabbed the two boxes of clothes I wanted to take the the Wycliffe head office, and Tasha's book that she left behind last time she was here, and got on the road to Portland. Somewhere along the Dalles, Tasha called to tell me the team was going to the movies, and would it mess up my plans if she went along. No, in fact it gave me a chance to hit the Fabric Depot on my way into town.

I met the new team members and my former castmates at the arcade outside the theater. Then Tasha and I went to a diner for dinner for me, and coffee for her. When we got to her house I checked the status of two auctions on eBay that were supposed to end while I was en route, so I'd bid on both. It turns out I won both of them, so sometime next week I'm going to have a proliferation of underwear showing up.

Saturday morning I slept in until 9, then went to Powell's Bookstore. I shouldn't have bought anything, but I only get there a couple of times a year if I'm lucky and in the area, so I bought Kahlil Gibran's "Jesus, the Son of Man." Gibran has written whole bunches of books, among them "The Prophet." The closest author I could compare him to would be Paulo Coelho, who wrote "The Alchemist." Though Gibran is more poetry than novella. After that I drove to Mock's Crest, the duplex at the Evangelical Center that the teams stays at while in rehearsal. It was Angie's day to cook, so for once I got to be on her crew, instead of the other way around. And I talked to Torrie at lunch. Her first question was, "Are they feeding you at the mission?" I've dropped several sizes, but I attribute that more to the lack of elevator and multiple trips up and down some major flights of stairs each day. Plus the whole too busy to cook and don't feel like it anyway thing.

Then Austen and Tasha and I went out for more coffee, and talked until it was time to leave town. It was so stinking good to see everyone. I also got a few minutes to chat with Adam (who may get to do the skateboarding tour he's been wanting to since last spring) and Rebecca, who I've promised to write.

Sunday morning I woke up early as all get out to be at church by 7:30. Whoever leaked it to the Presbyterians that I can play keyboard in a band needs to be shot. It's fun once I get there, but getting up before 8:30 kills me. Stupid morning people. There's not enough coffee in the world to combat cheerfulness at that hour.

Since I was out of town Saturday, we moved Bible study to Sunday instead. 10 more chapters of Leviticus under our belts. NOT the most thrilling reading in the world. We had Johanna and Nathaniel join us, which was fun, up until we had to read the discharge and sexual purity laws aloud in mixed company. Tuesday night we'll be finishing up Leviticus and perhaps getting into Numbers. We'll be glad to get back into the action sequences soon. Though, thanks to some clever hand motions and a few discussions of "what the heck did we just read?" I'm pretty clear on the three different types of sacrifices.

And now I'm at work. I came in an extra hour this morning to start sorting stuff in our stockroom. Our AARP employee has been pretty much doing all the sorting solo since Christmas. Nancy and I usually get back there and sort the load between "Antiques" and "Bargains" so that all the employees have to do is decide on a price. Hopefully we've already caught all of the expensive or collectible stuff. But with the Christmas sale and then Nancy being out, there's been no time to do that. If you'd been in the store recently you could have bought Depression glass for $.25. It just about killed me when an American Platter went away for $.75. So I hauled myself out of bed to try and put an end to that.

In other news, my first round of eBay auctions go off tonight. There are bids on almost everything, but I'm hoping the bidding wars will start in the next couple of hours. I'd really like to sell high the first time around...

Hang out not. Do. Or do not. There is no hanging out.

Hang out not. Do. Or do not. There is no hanging out.

I have declared a moritorium on hanging out. It is the dumbest concept ever invented. It isn't even a verb. It might be a clause. Anyway. With hanging out the idea is this: A person is with another person and is enjoying their company (singular or plural). One of them says, "hey. Let's hang out." Which should not be interpreted to mean "we're actually going to do something." This phrase should be interpreted to mean, "I don't have any specific plans other than my usual melange of evening puttering, so why don't you come over so that I can have you in my general vicinity." There's no guarantee as to a time that this will occur, or that it even will happen. Because anything trumps a 'hang out.'

The thing I don't understand is the very nature of the invitation, or rather, the non-invitation. You aren't setting a time, a place, or an activity. There is nothing planned, you are not being entertained, nor does the invite even guarantee that you will interact with the other person. They may talk to you about whatever they would have been doing anyway. So the invite basically boils down to: "come watch me do nothing for an unspecified period of time. Maybe."

Does this annoy anyone else? I get so frustrated at hanging out because I take it as a 'plan.' I am going to be doing something with someone on said evening. So I rearrange my schedule, get my extracurriculars out of the way so that I'm available for them to call with specifics.

On the chance that they do call, then I'm trapped at someone else's house watching them watch tv, check email, cook dinner, talk on the phone, clean their room, fold laundry, or whatever, trying to pretend like I'm having a good time. Because they always ask that, don't they? "Are you having fun?" No, actually, I'm bored and mad because there are a million other things I should be doing with my evening that I put off or rushed through to come be with you. And you aren't even talking to me. Sometimes I get smart and bring a book or some quilting. But really people! Why do we need to plan to amuse ourselves at someone else's activity?

And then there's the more common occurance. "Let's hang out I'll call you" turns into a no call no show.

There is a time and a place for true "hanging out." We saw it last night, as Dad and I were discussing it over Asian food. The waitress' boyfriend had brought homework to the restaurant so he could "hang out" with her when it was slow. Then he got a phone call from work. He ignored the call and asked her, "Do you want me to work, or would do you want me to come hang out with you?" Dad wanted to poll them about hanging out, but thank Goodness he didn't.

There are times when hanging out is fun. But it's when the expectations for the evening are clearly laid out before hand. In college Adrian and I lived on opposite sides of the same apartment building. We sometimes cooked together, since cooking for one is miserable. We'd go place, go out for dinner, run errands together, you know, do things. Often, when I'd have an alteration to do or costuming emergencies, or recital dresses to finish, I'd call Adrian and ask him if he'd like to come keep me company and watch movies while I sewed. And he would. But he knew that's what he was doing. And he'd bring something he needed to do, and if he needed to go, he was only two doors away and could run home.

Nancy, Denise and I pop in and out and chat while we're all doing things. But again, we live there. So it's not a big inconvenience.

So, my hanging out days are over. If someone wants to do something, call me. If someone wants me to come over and watch a movie, or play a game, or sit around and chat, pick a time and let me know. If you want to plan an evening where I have something to do and you have something to do and lets do it together, pick a time and let me know that's what we're doing so I can bring something. And if plans change, CALL ME so I can get on with my evening. But PLEASE no more "hanging out."

eBay

Find IT there

I've been out of the loop all week starting up our eBay site. Finally, tuesday night I got my first item listed. Last night I listed another, and then, after Mom made a guest appearance and woke me up, I listed another nine. And this morning I checked the site and I have a bid!!!! I'm so excited! We have very limited funds to start listing things, so my listing to selling ratio has to be pretty high or I'll run out.

*An update: I just checked my listings, and 8 out of 10 are selling within 24 of my putting them online! Hurrah!*

Grown-up Job

Grown-up Job

The past 24 hours were my first day as a grown up. No really. At least the first day I felt like one. Last week I had a twinge. I had spent the day calling back and forth with someone I was trying to arrange dinner plans, and we kept having to "hold on, I'm busy, could I call you back?" The plans were for 5, and I had to be a few minutes late to close down the store. On my way to dinner, a few minutes after five, sitting at a stoplight, the twinge hit me. I was going to have dinner after work with someone else who was coming from work, and then I had to go back to work to finish the paperwork for the evening. *Twinge of adulthood.*

Yesterday Nancy was out sick, so I ran the place all day. Directed volunteers, made decisions, trained new employees, and checked off more items on our spring to-do list. (Nothing I don't do on a normal day, but for once all decisions rested with me.) At five I closed the shop, but still had work to do. So, here's the amazing bit, I kept working. I finished some organizing in the store and then went upstairs to get my eBay workstation ready. I set up our USPS shipping account, hooked up my printers to our new computer and downloaded (uploaded?) the software, hung my personal to-do list on the wall, and researched a few more items we hope to be listing soon. The point being, I worked late to finish a project. Then, after dinner I went back to work to tidy up, and spent some time online researching online coursework for my own benefit. Then I set my alarm early.

This morning, I woke up half an hour early, did a load of dishes, made a pot of coffee, cooked breakfast which I ate while checking my email, and then jumped in the shower and went to work. I got some more of the "to do" list for the store crossed off, taught three classes, got my shipping area in the eBay workstation organized, and tonight I'll be working late again to post our first items online.

*Twinge* *Twinge* *Twinge*

Know-it-all Lady

Know-it-All Lady

The Know-it-all Lady was in the store today. We see her several times a week. Sometimes every day. When I first started working here she drove me CRAZY. She always answered for me when another customer had a question. She'd come up to the front with a bizarre item from the farm room asking "Do you know what this is..." and then proceed to tell me.

Several times, though, she saved me when a difficult customer wanted to know why I couldn't tell her what something was. As if I'm supposed to have unlimited knowledge of endless nic-nacks and farm implements. She knew that a round, thick glass bowl was actually the base of a chicken waterer. She identified an item that, to me, looked like a bit of rusty metal. I can't remember what it turned out to be, but it was underpriced and quite valuable if the right collector happened by.

Now a day doesn't seem quite right if she doesn't come in for her cup of hot coffee. She's our best salesperson. If another customer is vassilating on whether to buy something, she jumps in with how much of a steal it is, and after all, it's 20% off today (She also knows all of our sales). They usually buy it. And she knows the answer to every ailment. Today she advised washing my dishes with bleach and pouring more down all the drains to keep the "grunge" (the cold I've been fighting for weeks) from reoccuring. And I got to trade cat-keeping-us-up-at-night stories as she walked out the door.

I love the Know-it-all Lady!

Groggy Thoughts of a Saturday Evening

Groggy Thoughts of a Saturday Evening

I took a nap for an hour. First mistake. Now I'm wandering around and crashing into walls. It always takes a while for me to shake off a nap.

This afternoon five of us played two rounds of Trivial Pursuit LOTR. The guys (AKA Mike) won one round and the girls (Sometimes known as Me) won one. Which brings Mike and My total LOTR score to Mike: 1, Me:2. Denise and Nancy both decided to watch the trilogy with Sam again before we play the next round. And The three of us Lamba Deltas are going to play Star Wars Trivial Pursuit tonight.

And I was going to talk more but we're all here now and are going to Borders.

Tales of a lone Protestant

Tales of a Lone Protestant

Another winning day in classes. The kids are not settled down from break yet, and keeping them quiet is a major undertaking. Kindergarten was a zoo. I'd decided over break to supplement the "silly" songs we're learning with a few Bible memory songs -- G.T. and the Halo Express stuff. And those clever songs we all learned in Sunday School to help recall which books go in which order. I put up the "Books of the New Testament" overhead and asked the kids if they looked familiar. Blank Stares. One girl in the back tentatively put up her hand and said that maybe they were stories about Jesus. I asked them how many of them had a Bible. Their parents? Ever read one? Crickets chirping. So we're learning them. And hopefully someday it'll connect.

Speaking of which, I dodged a bullet yesterday. We were singing I Timothy 4:12 yesterday and discussing the word "purity." We looked it up in the dictionary to find out it meant "without sin, innocent." Who is a good example of without sin. "God!" Good. "Jesus." Great. "Mary." Ummm... "Joseph!" Mooooving on quickly before I stick my protestant foot into my mouth and have several dozen parents calling the school.

I'm sick again. Still. About the time I start feeling better I have a busy couple of days and take a few steps back. I am supposed to skiing tomorrow, but with my current energy level, I fear I'll make two runs and be too exhausted to finish the day, and down for the count all weekend. I need to call Amanda.

Work is a mess. We've cleaned up most of the main rooms, but the clothes rooms look like my bedroom after my third clothes change of the day, and the bargain rooms are, literally, a disaster area. I spent several hours reorganizing the book room today (my pet project) and I'm nowhere near finished.

Last night was Bar Study. Another 8 chapters of Exodus covered. We're to the tedious parts now -- post Red Sea crossing, into 10 Commandments, the Law, and everyone's favorite, the building of the Tabernacle. Thrilling reading there. Actually last night we discussed how much of Old Testment Law is still part of our value system today -- for instance, one verse says that if an animal gores another animal, then the owner is not responsible, unless the animal has a history of goring, in which case the animal should be killed and the owner made to make restitution. There were even a few we thought could stand to be brought back -- especially those talking about exactly how much restitution is enough (instead of our sue happy culture).

Then over to Sean and Kris' to watch The Wedding Crashers. Which was way funnier than I expected, even watching the "uncut" version. I like Owen Wilson a lot. And the main girl from Mean Girls was in it. Then some discussion of Final Fantasy, which invariably led to the idiot question by me: what the heck is it. I think I lost some brownie points.

Hurrah for an evening with nothing to do, unless I decide to be social. I love Wednesdays.

Fuzzy Sweater Strikes Again

Fuzzy Sweater Strikes Again

I stopped for gas at Albertson's and decided to do the smart thing and check my oil. As I'm opening the hood and wiping off the dipstick, the guy at the next pump over says, "Need any help there, Miss?" "No thanks, I've got it covered," I replied. Did I mention I was wearing the pink one?