Tag

My sister-in-law, Carrie, tagged me on her blog and has forced me to reveal 7 weird/random, previously unexposed facts about myself. I've been forced to consult my husband since I don't think I'm that weird, but he apparently shares a different opinion:

1. I disassemble and reorganize every single sandwich I've ever ordered. Even if I specifically requested certain items to be on the sandwich and watched it being made, I must first peek under the bread to see how it is arranged and then throughout the eating process, I must reorganize how the items are spread about.

2. When (if?) I cook, I don't like making something I've made before and it is usually the weirdest recipe in the cookbook. Same thing at the Asian grocery store--if the food is unidentifiable, then I want to try it.

3. I barely dry off when I get out of the shower. I don't like spending the time. In fact, I don't like spending time doing mundane things like rubbing lotion in all the way either.

4. If someone pronounces a word wrong I will repeat the way they said it over and over in my head to try and figure out why they said it like that--and then I will try really hard not to correct them (because it's annoying to have someone correct you for mispronunciation). I'm not always successful in keeping my mouth shut, but I do try.

5. I love accents. I'm also pretty good at copying them if I've heard one.

6. I had a poem published in high school.

7. I think Trudy smells like tortilla chips.

And, following Carrie's example, I choose to tag one person also. Faerl's new blog is always a joy to read. She is a fellow Texan who never fails to give me a big smile when I see her. She may also drink more coffee than Chris which a feat worth mentioning. I hope I didn't take away one of her random facts.

A Rant About Olives

This may seem like a very random post, and indeed, it probably is, but I am harboring some bitterness toward Subway and decided that instead of letting my unforgiveness fester inside, I would spew my venom in response to their mean and miserly new policy of withholding food from a pregnant woman. Stupid Subway.

After church on Sunday, Chris took me to get a sandwich at this popular eating establishment. We've been many times before, but apparently they are really feeling the economic crunch and decided to take it out on unsuspecting, hungry customers. In the past they have always been very generous with their toppings--to the point that they usually have to call in the big guns to successfully wrap Chris's sandwich. However, times have changed. I ordered my usual...a 6 inch veggie sandwich. The sandwich assembler proceeded to ask me what I'd like on it. In case you haven't been to Subway or you don't eat there, then you might not know that you can pick your toppings individually or ask for the works. There are certain veggies I choose not to allow grace my sandwich, and so I asked for lettuce, pickle, banana peppers and extra olives. Mr. Sandwich Assembler informed me that it was 25 more cents for extra veggies. So, he threw maybe 10 olive slices on my already thin looking sandwich. I asked him if that was extra, and he informed me that the norm is 5 olive slices (since when?). I was shocked, appalled, disgusted...you name it, I was a bit miffed at how stingy Subway had suddenly become especially since they had apparently cut down on how much stringy lettuce they were going to supply as well--it's a veggie sandwich, for goodness sake. I started to ask him if he would give me a 75 cent discount considering the fact that I chose to eliminate some of the other vegetables that I could have gotten. But, I was rather speechless with rage. You can't go from being super generous to your customers to counting out 5 olives slices within the course of a month. That just isn't going to fly.

And so, I am boycotting Subway in Edgewood. Don't stand between a woman and her sliced black olives or there will be hell to pay.

Hannah's Husband

Kids are funny. I find them especially amusing to watch and listen to. Hannah was up this weekend for a very short two days. She grows up a little bit more every time I see her. As they were packing up on Sunday to drive to Colorado, Hannah was in the bathroom, and I heard her tell Majaunta that she was going to get married someday. I'm not sure what sparked that bit of matrimonial desire in her, but she was very serious. And just as serious when she said that she would not be marrying a silly man. She was also quick to inform her mom that she was going to marry a man who took care of himself. I like her high standards.

Happy 30th Birthday Honey!

Jane-
I just wanted to say that I love you. I am so blessed to have been given the opportunity to spend my life with you. I look forward to a year that will bring our daughter and am honored to be on this journey with you. You are a wonderful wife and my dearest friend!

Love you.
Chris

Waiting for Baby

Garage Sales

We had a garage sale at my parent's house on Saturday morning. Which proved to be interesting on several accounts. The best part, of course, was making money on stuff you're tired of looking at, that you hate, or you can't re-gift. Chris told me it was the most money I'd made in two years. That part is true. It made me happy, though, that I won't have to use the money he earns to buy him a Christmas gift. Even though he would be fine eliminating gifts all together, I have a hard time going along with that. I love gifts. Both to give and receive.


The other interesting occurrence was when my dad tried to sale one of his old cars. Apparently there were two men interested in the car and while one jumped in to test drive it, the other handed my dad cash and said he'd buy it on the spot. The man test driving it was quite upset. In a rage, in fact. All over an ugly, red Ford Taurus that had seen better days. The three of us, my mom, Chris, and myself didn't know what was going on, as the three men were out in the street with the car. The man who did not score the old beater of a car came storming up to collect the rest of the odds and ends he'd bought and told me that it was a bunch of crap. What was a bunch of crap, I asked him. He just starting muttering more. Then he got more enraged the more he muttered and started raising his voice at my mom who didn't have a clue what was going on and was trying to pacify him by asking if my dad knew he wanted to buy the car. I think that just made him more upset, so Chris asked him if he'd committed to buying the car ,and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Obviously this man needs a few sessions of yoga or some other calming technique, maybe lavender oil, I don't know. He cursed at Chris using some very colorful language and when Chris told him quite nicely that he should leave, he decided to regale the other garage salers with his grasp on four lettered words. Always lovely to make a new friend. I'm glad I was in a calm, serene state of mind--mainly because I was too tired.


Last time someone cursed out a family member in front of me, I ran up to the person, who was in a truck in a parking lot, and told them to leave. When this person said that my family member had almost hit his truck, I told him his truck was a piece of junk, and he shouldn't be upset (it really was, but in retrospect, that probably wasn't the best thing to tell him at the time).


Oh, well. Lesson learned. Garage sales can be times of extreme tension and anxiety. Not just for the person(s) who had to be up at the crack of dawn to exhibit their wares, but also for those perusing the junk for that rare find.