Ponderings and Musings

I’ve taken the day off from work for two reasons: I need to burn my vacation time before the end of the year and I really need to finish up the Christmas shopping. I might even have the gifts wrapped before Earl gets home. To celebrate the day off, I am currently installed in a corner of our local Panera. I am armed with my PowerBook and eating as healthy as one can in one of these “appears classy – really fast food” restaurants.

My observations of others during this holiday season continues. I know I go on and on about cell phone use in public, but I find it so utterly fascinating. I just watched a woman walk across this very busy restaurant, armed with her cell phone but balancing two trays of food better than any waitress named Betty that I’ve encountered. She arrived safely at her table, where I noticed that she is joining her lunch companion. My immediate thought was that he should have got up and fetched the food, but of course he is on his cell phone as well. I suspect he called her and said, “Don’t forget the salt and pepper.”

A woman just arrived in a beat up Ford pickup from the late 1980s. The truck is in final stages of rigor mortis, the driver appears to have not washed her hair in several days (unless greasy is ‘in’). I try to not to be judgmental, but the woman undoubtedly reeks of b.o. and white trash. She’s yapping on what appears to be what all the rage in cellular technology – a Motorola Razr cell phone. Apparently the soap can wait, but the phone call can’t.

You may say that I am not one to talk, since I’m typing away on my PowerBook while eating my lunch. I see this a little differently. I am alone at my table. I am stationed in the corner at a remote table in the restaurant. I’m not carrying my PowerBook around, I’m not doing extracurricular activities on a webcam nor am I yelling through the microphone over some voice chat program. I’m simply observing the behavior of others during this holiday season.

The acoustics in this corner allow me to eavesdrop on quite a few conversations. I always giggle at the guys in this area that talk with a very heavy Bronx or Brooklyn accent. I don’t know if they’ve noticed but we live over four hours from the two aforementioned burroughs. Most of us speak with an accent you’re more likely to find in Michigan or Ohio. But it’s like there’s a small dollop of marinara sauce on the spot that marks our place on the map.

And lastly, an older couple is sitting at the table directly in front of me. They have obsessed and strategized over how they are going to fetch their food when the pager goes off. Which way will they walk through the maze of tables and dining bodies? Will they have to pole vault over the guy talking about cigars? Will they have to do laps around the woman with a feather hat? Oh no, the light is flashing! The pager is vibrating! Time to spring into action. Apparently, the best plan is a simple one, walk to the counter and look over everyone’s food.

I find human beings so fascinating.

“Gotta make the cookies. Time to make the cookies. Frost me, frost me!”. These thoughts danced in my dreams as I tossed and turned Saturday night, laden with the guilt of not having our annual cookie trays made up for the folks at our respective workplaces. While children throughout the land have visions of sugarplums in their head, all I can think about are cookie trays, assorted colored sprinkles and smiling Santa shaped cookies.

Yesterday Earl and I embarked on the Holiday Cookie Assembly Project, an undertaking seemingly so large that it’s only surpassed by Boston’s Big Dig. While I measured, sifted, mixed and beat various ingredients of varying importance, Earl rolled and kneaded our chilled sugar cookie dough as he kept a watchful eye on me lest I put the walnuts in the mix before the chocolate chips*.

I am happy to say that no cross words were exchanged nor were any fingers burned, spindled or mutilated as we cranked out almost ten dozen cookies of different shapes, sizes, colors and flavors. Tonight the merriment continues, after we finish the assembly and decorating of our nine foot Christmas tree.

*Bittersweet hot cocoa mix is not a favorable replacement for baker’s chocolate. I’m willing to sign an affidavit indicating this.

Earl and I went on our big Christmas shopping spree yesterday. We have finished the majority of our shopping, though I have a few more things to pick up on my day off on Wednesday. We went to two malls in two major cities and both were jammed and chaotic.

I had the opportunity to make several observations while on this merry little adventure, and I’d like to share them with you.

1. Unless you have a cell phone up to your ear and you totally ignore any and everything around you as you walk through the mall, you’re a nobody. I often called time and temperature just to fit in with the crowd. Perhaps I should have called Dial-A-Prayer, because I had the urge to go to postal.
2. Dangly earrings apparently increase the reception of the Borg like device many wear on their ear now to engage in the aforementioned incredibly important cell phone calls. Said earrings allow the wearer to carry on conversations regarding important items such as incontinence, child custody battles and inane phrases such as “what are you doing” at high decibels in the far reaches of the jewelry, domestics and intimate apparel departments.
3. All holiday wishes should be set aside when vying for a parking space. The handicapped spots should be reserved for the foolish pedestrians (such as myself) that didn’t join in the joust and parked in remote parking lots; these remote location people shall pay by becoming targets and being reduced to “points” status.
4. If a parking spot within 30 feet of the front door is not available, it is perfectly acceptable to parallel park between the Salvation Army bell ringer and the gift wrapping service table.
5. The sensibility of using the elevator to transport the baby buggy is completely discarded during the holidays. The buggy shall be jammed onto the escalator and there shall be complete disregard for others trying to escalate or de-escalate as well, even if it’s a senior citizen that has not seen in the inside of a mall since the Bicentennial celebration.
6. Baby buggies are for transporting packages, barrels of half eaten popcorn, Big Gulps, purses and the wide variety of incredibly important cell phone accessories. At no time shall a child be sitting in one of these vehicles, the child is to be roaming free, screaming at the top of it’s lungs, accessorized in a saggy diaper and tripping up other mall patrons. If you can get the child to yell “mor-mor” even five to seven seconds at peak volume, you earn bonus points.
7. Since the holiday season is the busiest for retailers, it’s important to completely replace the cash register system during this joyous time. This keeps clerks on their toes by keeping them in the dark on how the new software works.

Next year, it’s point and click all the way. Starting in July.

In an valiant effort to ready myself for full-time domestic status (we full-time students get elected to clean house full-time as well), I went crazy the other night and sprayed oven cleaner all over the front of the radarange microwave. It seemed like the sensible thing to do. I didn’t want to sit there with a chisel and scrape the goop off the front of it and since it was stuff that had splattered from the stove that sits right below it, I figured the Easy Off would work beautifully since it did such a fabulous job on the cooktop.

It took the pads right off the buttons.

But it looks so shiny and clean.

Luckily, there was enough goop on there that I was able to save the actual writing on the pads, but the non-slip surface is gone and now we run the danger of our fingers sliding wildly from “preheat” to “burn” or from ‘9’ to ‘6’, running the risk of over boiling our water by 30 seconds.

But it looks so shiny and clean.

I’m wondering if I should clean the inside of the beast by using the same method, but then I wondered if something would catch fire or end up converting our next dish into a Taco Bell special with some sort of weird disease.

Maybe I’ll get a radarange microwave for Christmas.

It was officially announced at work today. My co-workers found out that I have resigned from my position, effective December 29. I’ve decided to go to school full-time starting in January and I don’t feel that I can fulfill my work obligations and my personal goals simultaneously. I had tended my resignation on December 3rd, but kept it quiet from my co-workers until the management team could figure out what to do.

I’ve been in this position for about 2 1/2 years, though it feels as if it’s been a lifetime and I mean that in a positive way. I hope to maintain friendships with many that I worked with. With the internet, instant messaging and whatnot, it’s easier to do that these days.

I’m more excited than ever of the road that lies ahead.

The madcap rush of the holidays continues tonight as Earl and I join my sister and Mom in Syracuse for dinner. My sister is leaving for Moscow tomorrow, where her Canadian hockey player boyfriend is currently located as he plays hockey for a Russian team. So tonight it’s a little bon voyage party and we’ll do Christmas as we did last year: over the webcam.

I am finally on my way with Christmas shopping. One of my gifts for Earl arrived yesterday, piquing his curiosity as the box is quite heavy. This is really our “together” gift that I bought for both of us outside of my allotted budget. I look forward to more packages arriving up until the holidays, because nothing says “Merry Christmas” like some well-placed pointing and clicking.

I had a big meeting this morning with the manager of the department I work in. It was a good meeting. I’m looking forward to what the future holds.

Now, back to the holiday rush.

Here it is Tuesday lunch time and I’m sitting at home without a luncheon date. Earl asked me out to lunch last minute yesterday, so I didn’t get a chance to get home and write a witty entry about my latest observations.

I find it quite amazing how quickly time is passing as we approach the holidays. Yesterday was just chocked full of merriment. After working 7 to 4 I had to go to the health center at college to turn in my health paperwork. Since everyone that has ever pushed, pulled, spindled or fondled my body in a medical capacity has shredded my records, aside from my current doctor, I have to get a measles vaccination. I wonder how long they’ll keep me in pediatrics.

After that glorious news, I headed over to the Adult Education (without accompaniment from Hall and Oates) Department and met with the advisor. I’ve signed up for my courses and have been formally accepted to the school. There’s one more step I need to take before the end of the year, but we’ll save that for a more appropriately timed blog entry.

After school I met up with Earl, we had a quick supper at the local diner, where the Tomato Soup should have been called the Tomato Rinse, since it was the consistency of tap water, and then we headed over to First Earl’s to help him with his computer. That was really wild, as I have not been in First Earl’s house (where I lived at one time) in about ten years. But Earl, Earl and I had a nice visit and I showed First Earl how to efficiently print Christmas labels and secure his network. I also showed him where all the good porn was.

Today it’s another rat race with school after work and then off to bed so I can get up and do it all over again tomorrow.

Dorky Hat Season.

Originally uploaded by DJSuperCub.

I hate wearing hats, but here’s the evidence that it’s officially “Dorky Hat Season”.

It’s that most wonderful time of the year at work. It’s the time when everyone is feverishly working hard to use up their vacation time before the end of year. We have this crazy little “use it or lose it” rule when it comes to our benefit time. I don’t really feel the crunch to do as many of my co-workers do because I happily use vacation time throughout the year. I think it’s one of my shining skills when it comes to my employment. I might even list it first on my resume.

What completely boggles my mind is that some of my co-workers don’t like taking time off from work. When our supervisor is telling us what time we need to use before December 31, they sigh and roll their eyes and say things like “I guess I can take the next three Fridays off.” What? Are you mad? Why the hell wouldn’t you want to take the next three Fridays off. Heck, go crazy and throw in a few Thursday too! I’m considering putting an entry in the dusty suggestion box in the break room: “Employees are free to share their vacation time with other co-workers. It can be used as a bargaining trip for favors such as taking the calls of the more cranky customers or putting the trash cans out in the hall.”

Since it’s mad rush time, everyone that sits near my quarter of a cubicle is off this afternoon. I’m all by myself at our end of the room.

It’s the perfect time to get started on my holiday shopping.

The snow is coming down like crazy as I type this. As I made my way home from school in the Jeep, I trudged through three or four inches of snow on our unplowed roadway. I had to make a quick stop at the gas station to fill up the tank and I noticed that there were several people in and out of the parking lot as I was pumping gas; they were all picking up gallons of milk.

Predictable. I did forgive the hottie that was fueling up at the set of pumps next to mine. Our eyes met, he smiled, I smiled. It was a gay thing. But he still ran in and bought a gallon of milk. The cap color indicated it was whole milk. Perhaps my gaydar is off – what gay man drinks whole milk?

The National Weather Service is predicting possibly a foot of snow or more in selected locales in our region, courtesy of that big snow-maker we call Lake Ontario. I often wonder if my fellow citizens forget that we live on the edge of the Lake Ontario snowbelt and that heavy snow at this time of the year is not uncommon. As I said before, they may be lactose intolerant and on the Atkins diet, but by God they need to stock up on milk and bread!

I’m hoping the snow tapers off and doesn’t bury us tonight. I’m not plowing the driveway before leaving for work tomorrow, regardless of how much snow we get, and with Earl out of town, I won’t have to worry about getting him on his way tomorrow morning. If it does snow a lot, I’ll just shoot out of the garage like the Batmobile. Perhaps our cat Tom can dress up as Robin and sit in the passenger seat.