Grocery Stories

The grocery store isn't usually a place which makes for blog topics. But I've had a few experiences which have made pushing a cart with a janky wheel tolerable. Well more tolerable I guess. Two are recent and one I've brought up from the recesses of my brain.

Am I seeing myself 30 years in the future?
This particular shopping trip I was checking out at the counter when the bagger's name badge caught my eye. Aw, how cute. It identified him as Alex who had been working there for 1 year. It also had space for Alex to write his favorite food which was cheesecake. To which I almost wanted to say "You're precious Alex...thanks for sharing." As I turned my attention to the cashier I saw that her name was Rhonda (nice to meet you Rhonda) who had been a proud employee for 12 years (You go girl!). Then I looked to see what HER favorite food was.
Did she enjoy indulging in a nice porterhouse steak, maybe some fancy pasta dish, or take Alex's lead and point out her penchant for lemon meringue pie. No,no, and no. Rhonda chose...Vodka.

Am I seeing myself in 40 years?
On this particular excursion I was at the beer case making the all important decision: be frugal and buy a case of Keystone Light or put on my fancy pants and go with the Champaign of Beers: Miller High Life. Just as I was about to scream at the agony of my choices a lady struck up a conversation with me. "Tough to choose huh." Did she read my mind or something? Then she hulked a case of Budweiser into her cart. "This is my nerve medicine here." You said it sister. I chuckled appropriately. "But you know what?? These beers are 120 calories each!" I nodded and put on my best disgusted face. Those idiots at Anheuser Bush certainly aren't looking out for our health. Then my new friend slapped her ass and said "Haha...must be why I'm so fat!" and promptly pushed her cart off toward the cash registers.

I hope I wasn't like this 15 years ago
The day I moved into the dorm my freshman year of college my parents did the requisite grocery run to buy supplies. I'd have never made it through without all the peanut butter crackers they bought me (I lived on them my first two weeks because I was too homesick to eat normal food). As we were checking out a worn looking grandmother was tossing her shit onto the conveyor belt thingy while her equally bedraggled grandchildren sauntered up behind her. The boy (who looked somewhat like a deranged 5th grade ferret) was looking at the candy display. If you've ever been a child, you know that those displays are pretty dangerous because after being dragged through the store with your parents...you're expecting a damn packet of Chiclets at least. But this kid had his eye on a bag of Skittles, a Baby Ruth, some Tic-Tacs, and a Laffy Taffy. Greedy little bastard. His grandmother understandably said "NO" to which his head nearly exploded and/or spun around. He threw down his candy cache and screamed all turets-like: "Mother Fucker! I want some fucking candy!! Bitch!" Needless to say I assumed I was going to school in a town infested by the Children of the Corn and thus avoided the townie kids my entire 4 years.

In honor of the Super Bowl

Today, I am going to honor the upcoming clash of the titans (Super Bowl XLIII). As we all gear
up to eat lots of party food, drink adult beverages, and laugh at the commercials, I'd like to take this time to say that I know (sorta, kinda, not really) the QB of the Pittsburgh Steelers.
Yes. It's true (sorta, kinda, not really). You see, Big Ben and I went to the same undergraduate institution and I watched him carry our football team to many wins in his illustrious career.
But I actually did come into contact with Big Ben. Settle in...and hear the tale.

I was a rather cold day (my sophomore year, Ben's junior year) in January as a gaggle of students stepped off the bus in front of my dorm. I was trying to compose myself as a blast of
arctic air and diesel exhaust hit me when a shadow fell over me. What was this solar eclipse?
Oh no...it was just Big Ben. Let me tell you, when they say "Big Ben" they mean it. He's just so friggin' tall and imposing. He happened to be walking down the sidewalk as I got off the bus. It was one of those moments where you know you're in the presence of celebrity (and remember, at this time he was just collegiate royalty) and you kind of bumble around. So here I was, star struck when I heard a horrible alarm noise. Someone had left the front door of my dorm open and this atrocious sound was letting all of us know that while we were studying/sleeping/watching MTV in our rooms an intruder was likely entering the premises.

Big Ben, upon hearing this horrible ruckus, felt compelled to help out my dorm mates who were scurrying around the front door. He bellowed "SHUT THE DOOR!! JUST SHUT IT!! SHUT THE DOOR!!" Thanks Ben! We didn't know how we were ever going to get that noise to stop!
And as the alarm ceased, Big Ben wisked off into the cold day, likely on his way to our university's multi-million dollar weight room. And that was my siting of Big Ben Roethlisberger. You probably think that's the last experience I've had relating to him. But you'd be so wrong. I had the RoethlisBurger while in Pittsburgh (it was tasty), and my dad also bought Big Ben's BBQ sauce. So see..he and I are like best buds.

Also, check this out for more Big Ben fun...
http://nbcsports.msnbc.com/id/22825103/vp/28777138#28777138

T-h-u-r-s-d-a-y NIGHT!

Tonight's Plans: Dinner at Applebee's with parents and aunt

High Point of the Evening: Listening to my family burst into hysterics as we "outwit" the GPS unit my aunt got for Christmas.

"Daniel," the British voice I chose to direct us home, seemed rather upset as my dad purposely drove the wrong way. Poor Daniel had to keep saying "Recalibrating Route!" I was waiting for him to say "Hey asshole...why'd you buy a GPS if you already know the damn way home?"


Low Point of the Evening: Realizing I'd left my driver's license in my other coat pocket

My parents were willing to buy my alcohol for the night. I had no license. I apparently don't look 21. A school ID isn't enough for Applebee's. What's a girl to do? SCORE! I have a copy of my birth certificate in my purse (for employment reasons)! Why such a low point? Imagine having to show the Applebee's manager your birth certificate to get a Miller Lite Brewtus. Yeah. That's a collossal low point.

My G(o) O(n) A(nd) L(augh) S

Everyone needs to have goals...and I've decided that I'm no different, especially with the dawning of a brand new year. So...as little and as insignificant as these goals may seem, I'm going to meet them. Eventually. Hopefully.

Goal 1: Learn the entire choreography to Beyonce's Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)

I understand that this isn't a totally original goal, especially since half of the United States

has uploaded a video of themselves doing/trying/failing miserably onto YouTube. And most would say that I'm really not that talented in the dance arts department. But that's not important to me. I'm going to channel my inner 'Yonce and learn the entire damn thing. That's right..all the prancing, ground-punching, and ring-finger shimmying.

Goal 2: Hold my purse and random accessory like a celebrity

I've noticed recently (while clicking through thousands of pictures of celebrities on Perez Hilton's site) that most female celebrities have a specific way of holding their purses and cell phones/lattes/cigarettes which somehow makes them look infinetly more fabulous than I. It starts with a massive bag worth more than my first year of grad school, crammed with God-knows-what. Then, said celebrity carries the bag in the crook of her arm while holding the phone/latte/cigarettes nonchalantly in the same hand. It makes ones arm look like it could be dead from the weight of the purse, but oh no, its clinging to an mobile for dear life. It makes these ladies look as though they're so busy and important that they have to be juggling all their possessions in their hands instead of just walking down the street like a normal person. I am a relatively normal person (and incredibly not busy) so I think I'll take up this pose to spice up my image a little. At least people might think I could get a call from a potential employer at any moment.

Goal 3: Work up the nerve to order these kicks

I'll just put this out there...I like flashy tennis shoes. My everyday personal style is somewhat eclectic, but doesn't often afford me the opportunity to wear crazy shoes. Neither does the fact that I'm supposed to be buying "grown-up" clothes. Well, F-that. I'm over it. My new goal...buy these bitches: http://www.eukicks.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/n_wmns_dunk_low_01.jpg

I know this isn't exactly the shoe choice of most caucasian young adult women...but like I said before, F-that.

Goal 4: Be a DJ

If you laughed when you read this one all I have to say is "Don't be hatin'." Who hasn't wanted to play their IPod and have hundreds (ok maybe just dozens) of people grooving to what you consider "your jams?" Yeah. I didn't think you'd want to pass that up. I've also decided to make up my DJ name a la the way you make up your stripper name. Except I'm going to use this formula: the name of the shampoo in my shower + my favorite McDonald's sandwich.

Say hello to DJ Herbal Essence Quarter Pounder.

Mom is Wow Upside Down

Things my mom has hilariously mispronounced in the last few days...

1) Regarding the concert for new President (!) Obama: "I saw they had Beyonce, John Legend, and Bono (pronounced Bone-O) singing for Obama"

2) We recently got the National Geographic Channel as one of our free preview channels on Dish Network. In a continuing quest to some how communicate with our dog my mom has taken to watching the "Dog Whisperer" religiously. When I flipped through for her to see the shows that were scheduled for the day she saw a program called "Bloods Versus Crypts."
Her reaction: "Bloods versus Cripes? What is that??"

New Year...New Me!

Just because you have a master's degree in a field doesn't mean that's what you're going to do...
Naively I thought I would be gunning for jobs in my field after I graduated. Ha. A list of jobs I've mulled over in mind/pondered with a friend in the last 3 months:

a) Bus driver
b) Census worker (that may be a real possibility for me...details to come)
c) Permanent substitute teacher (Wouldn't that be a licensed teacher with a 4 year degree? I'll pretend you didn't ask that.)
d) Prostitution (Haha. Only slightly kidding.)
e) Clerk at State Liquor store
f) Sushi-maker at Giant Eagle
g) Ski Resort or Coffee Shop owner (depending on my mood/the season)
h) House-flipper
i) Foster parent
j) Unlicensed massage therapist
k) Animal daycare-er (I'll play with/feed/clean up after cats and dogs)
l) Unregistered dietician

Christmas Season has Ended

So I've taken longer to finalize my Christmas "essay" than I expected. I'll blame it on the insanity of the holiday season. To finish simply and quickly, though I have lots of snarky
comments pointed at Christmas, I am mostly thankful for one thing. My friends and family, those that I've had the pleasure spending so much time with over the last month and also those scattered everywhere who I haven't been able to see. This is what is most important to me and what I appreciate most immensely about this holiday. Another bonus is that my loved ones have, in one month, given me enough things to blog about for the rest of 2009.