This past weekend my in-laws came in town. My husband and I have not seen them since July and we had a fabulous time. The one thing I realize every time we seem them is how much my husband is like my FIL. It’s scary, but a good scary.
Friday night we went to a nice dinner at La Cima, which is the Las Colinas City Club restaurant and Saturday we showed my FIL the wonder that is Central Market. I don’t think he blinked the entire time we were there. For those of you that don’t know what Central Market is, it is somewhat of a specialty grocery store. They have all the pre-prepared food you can think of, an olive bar about 30 feet long, a salsa bar to match, homemade pastas and bread, any kind of cheese imaginable, and an amazing produce section. The one thing they didn’t have….Halloween candy. They kept pointing me toward the bulk candy. Yeah, because all parents love letting their kids eat unwrapped candy from strangers. Anyway as a side note, we bought candy at another store and we only had FOUR trick-or-treaters. LAME. But I digress.
Saturday night my parents came over and my husband and I made dinner for everyone and then we watched a slideshow of pictures from our Italy trip. I swear I will never make someone watch a video of a vacation, but you will be subjected to digital pictures on the TV screen. The weekend ended with us going to breakfast on Sunday before they headed back down to San Antonio.
I know this type of relationship with in-laws is not always the case. Does anyone have any crazy in-law stories? Anonymous posts are welcomed :)
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
FW: RE: Your Action
Every office has one of those people who take the job of delegating out work uberseriously. Unfortunately, these people are not your boss, and they are usually not in a position of power; no, no, these are people who don't actually like to do any work themselves, so they try very hard to pass the work onto others. My office has one of these said people. His name is Slacker (not really, but I try to be fair and not use real names), and Slacker really pissed me off today.
Earlier this afternoon, I received an email from Slacker that contained the following statement, "This request should have been directed to you. Your action." Umm, excuse me? Do you mean to tell me that this five page email train where your name is mentioned all over the friggin' place was mistakenly sent to you instead of me? And that the five people copied on this email are so stupid that they put you as the actionee instead of me? And that you think it is ok to "reply to all" and then some to let everyone know that I have the action to complete, when this is the first time I've heard about this issue EVER? And that you think it is acceptable to direct me to do something just because you don't want to have to do it? Who in the hell do you think you are?
Face the facts Slacker! This IS your job, you AREN'T my boss, and QUIT copying every MF*ing person in this office on messages where you deny responsibility and accountability for the tasks you were hired to do!
Deep breath. Please say someone understands where I am coming from? I like my job, and I don't mind doing work that should be mine to do, but what I don't like is for people, like this guy, who think that just by putting the words "Your action" in an email that they have successfully abstained themselves from any responsibility regarding the work.
As the rush of pure hatred filled Princess Tartini's veins (NOT an overreaction by the way because this is not the first time this has happened to me, and I have also witnessed this infuriating behavior happen to others), my first instinct was to shoot back an email also replying to all letting this guy have it big time. However, my cooler senses prevailed, and a sensible email was sent back to Slacker and slacker's boss (who is kind of a pseudo-boss to me) questioning whether or not this was really an appropriate task for my function.
I don't know the outcome yet, but I feel at the very least my point was made: I don't mind doing the work if a supervisor asks me to, but I sure as hell don't take direction from Slacker, and I refuse to allow him to CC me into submission just because he uses email as a broadcast for "not my job".
Earlier this afternoon, I received an email from Slacker that contained the following statement, "This request should have been directed to you. Your action." Umm, excuse me? Do you mean to tell me that this five page email train where your name is mentioned all over the friggin' place was mistakenly sent to you instead of me? And that the five people copied on this email are so stupid that they put you as the actionee instead of me? And that you think it is ok to "reply to all" and then some to let everyone know that I have the action to complete, when this is the first time I've heard about this issue EVER? And that you think it is acceptable to direct me to do something just because you don't want to have to do it? Who in the hell do you think you are?
Face the facts Slacker! This IS your job, you AREN'T my boss, and QUIT copying every MF*ing person in this office on messages where you deny responsibility and accountability for the tasks you were hired to do!
Deep breath. Please say someone understands where I am coming from? I like my job, and I don't mind doing work that should be mine to do, but what I don't like is for people, like this guy, who think that just by putting the words "Your action" in an email that they have successfully abstained themselves from any responsibility regarding the work.
As the rush of pure hatred filled Princess Tartini's veins (NOT an overreaction by the way because this is not the first time this has happened to me, and I have also witnessed this infuriating behavior happen to others), my first instinct was to shoot back an email also replying to all letting this guy have it big time. However, my cooler senses prevailed, and a sensible email was sent back to Slacker and slacker's boss (who is kind of a pseudo-boss to me) questioning whether or not this was really an appropriate task for my function.
I don't know the outcome yet, but I feel at the very least my point was made: I don't mind doing the work if a supervisor asks me to, but I sure as hell don't take direction from Slacker, and I refuse to allow him to CC me into submission just because he uses email as a broadcast for "not my job".
Monday, November 2, 2009
Where the Wild Things Are
On Sunday, I arrived home from Tucson on time (thank you American Airlines for that wonderful performance) and immediately settled in, unpacked my stuff, and did a little happy dive onto my couch to catch up on my DVRd shows. Not long into Grey's, I heard the weirdest scratching noise that sounded like it was coming from my roof. I ignored it thinking that it was probably a bird on the roof, but the sound persisted. I then decided that further investigation was necessary, and I climbed up in the attic to see if some random animal had made its home in my insulation. Umm, no. I then proceeded outside and tried to look like I knew what I was doing as I surveyed all aspects of my roof from the ground. Still nothing. I went back inside, pressed play, and continued in my happy bliss.
An hour later, the same noise occurred again. This time, after listening very closely, I determined that the noise resembled an animal trapped in some small space that was trying to get a foothold on a slick metal vertical object . . . hmmm, what could that be? Hint: When you start a fire in your fireplace, smoke goes up your _______. Very good kids!
My chimney was the unintended home of a wild thing-I am guessing a squirrel. Crap. After listening to the rattling for a little while, it all but stopped and I headed to bed, completely forgetting about the sound. Apparently, this little guy and I are on the same circadian rhythm because we both slept soundly throughout the night. And also like me, the little guy gets cranky in the mornings, which is when I remembered that I did indeed still have my overnight visitor.
To speed up my little tale, let me just say that there is really no good and easy way to get an animal out of one's chimney. Recommendations made by colleagues and my dear dad included: smoke it out, open the damper and let it fall into a box, call animal control, let it die and then fall into said box . . .
I pay taxes, and being new to the city, I decided to check out my local animal control who recommended a trap. They even came by to look up the chimney and help me set up the trap. Apparently, my wild thing is either a little shy or has the ability to disappear into thin air because the office could not see anything caught in the chimney. She told me that the animal might have freed itself, but to call back if I heard any more noises.
People, I am here to tell you, that this intruder is back. In fact, I am listening to him rumble around and get ready for bed as I write this post. Looks like I am going to have to get the trap and see what I can do about enticing the wild thing out of my chimney.
Stay tuned for Part II of this story, but to keep you intrigued, I will tell you that it will either end in a sad death (not mine), a story of survival and hope (yes, mine), or me possibly contracting the disease called rabies. Luckily, from the show The Office, I happen to know that rabies is curable-so I'm really not that worried, but I'll let you know what happens.
An hour later, the same noise occurred again. This time, after listening very closely, I determined that the noise resembled an animal trapped in some small space that was trying to get a foothold on a slick metal vertical object . . . hmmm, what could that be? Hint: When you start a fire in your fireplace, smoke goes up your _______. Very good kids!
My chimney was the unintended home of a wild thing-I am guessing a squirrel. Crap. After listening to the rattling for a little while, it all but stopped and I headed to bed, completely forgetting about the sound. Apparently, this little guy and I are on the same circadian rhythm because we both slept soundly throughout the night. And also like me, the little guy gets cranky in the mornings, which is when I remembered that I did indeed still have my overnight visitor.
To speed up my little tale, let me just say that there is really no good and easy way to get an animal out of one's chimney. Recommendations made by colleagues and my dear dad included: smoke it out, open the damper and let it fall into a box, call animal control, let it die and then fall into said box . . .
I pay taxes, and being new to the city, I decided to check out my local animal control who recommended a trap. They even came by to look up the chimney and help me set up the trap. Apparently, my wild thing is either a little shy or has the ability to disappear into thin air because the office could not see anything caught in the chimney. She told me that the animal might have freed itself, but to call back if I heard any more noises.
People, I am here to tell you, that this intruder is back. In fact, I am listening to him rumble around and get ready for bed as I write this post. Looks like I am going to have to get the trap and see what I can do about enticing the wild thing out of my chimney.
Stay tuned for Part II of this story, but to keep you intrigued, I will tell you that it will either end in a sad death (not mine), a story of survival and hope (yes, mine), or me possibly contracting the disease called rabies. Luckily, from the show The Office, I happen to know that rabies is curable-so I'm really not that worried, but I'll let you know what happens.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
I have spent the most wonderful week in Arizona. My trip started out on Tuesday in Scottsdale for a business conference where I was able to network, listen to amazing speakers, and most importantly, catch up with old friends, including a former crush of mine. Not to worry, there was no round deux for me (a test I was not sure if I would be able to pass). But, everything seemed to work out fine and I think this is why:
What I have realized is that more times than not, the grass is greener on the other side. And when you you are faced with staring over to that lush, green "other side" day in and day out, it kind of makes it kind of hard to move on and it becomes very easy to convince yourself that somehow, life with that boy, or with that job, or whatever would be way better than what you have growing in your own backyard. However, lucky for me, I was able to move away and with time, I didn't think about this guy as much . . . and then not at all. Seeing him again only reminded me that sometimes having amazing "chemistry" does not necessarily translate into endless love.
After the conference was over on Thursday, I headed down south to my old stomping ground, Tucson, with my good friend V. Our plans consisted of sleeping in late, hitting up our favorite Tucson restaurants, and catching up on all kinds of crazy gossip.
Thus far, we have been successful in all endeavours. In 1.5 days, we have hit up 5 different restaurants!! Umm, yeah, I went on a 5-day cruise last year and didn't gain a pound. I am pretty sure a 3-day trip to Tucson is going to net me at least a +5 on the scale. That = not cool. However, the taste of Cafe Poca Cosa on the lips = totally worth it. Oh, and seeing a hot bartender dressed up for Halloween in an authentic flight suit from his Army days was a totally yummy experience that I would not trade in for anything. *Note of Importance: There is just not enough of that manly hotness going on in Dallas! Dallas needs more flight suits!
Tonight we will hit up a Halloween party where I will most definitely NOT be dressed up. And then tomorrow, I will head back to "the land of the beautiful-no matter what the cost." Speaking of the old adage "the grass is always greener on the other side." I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to stay in Tucson instead of moving to Dallas. Being here has made me realize once again, that the grass may be greener in certain places, but that I really did make the right choice in moving back to Texas.
Monday, October 26, 2009
No Payment Is Necessary
Last Saturday I had a revelation. Do you want to know what it was? Well, it all started when I agreed to attend a 60th birthday party with my father while my mom was on vacay in Italy (yes, I agree it's a shame that Queen Gin&Tonic and Sweet N' Lo could not meet up for cappuccinos while they were both there), but I digress.
First, let me just let you know that 60 is like the new 40 -but better. I mean, back in the day, 60 was old (to me anyway). Now, 60 is retired, custom-built house on a hill with a view, and plenty of beer and wine. So, I went to this party expecting to have a fairly good time with my father and some of his fun-loving friends, and ended up meeting one of the 20-something sons of the couple that threw the party.
I guess the whole "revelation" thing started when I realized that I would not have to hand over my 16-digit credit card number in order to "view his profile" a la Eharmony. In fact, I owed this guy no payment at all except for good conversation in return for his. We ate, drank, and talked pretty much all night long about everything in the world and nothing in particular. I could tell he was into me because a) after we would drift apart in the crowd, he would come and find me; b) he is a Longhorn, but still checked the A&M v. Tech football score for me; and c) would say things like, "Wow, I think I am telling you way more about myself than you would ever want to know." Yeah, kind of, but it was also kind of refreshing to be around someone who wasn't trying so hard to be cool that his personality was a big fat zero.
Unfortunately, this guy lives in H-Town and I live north of Big D . . . so . . . yeah . . . that stretch of 45 is just so painful. But here's the deal: He invited me to be his "Charlie" from Top Gun for Halloween, but I had to say no due to plans to visit friends in Tucson, but we exchanged numbers at the party anyway.
And he called tonight. Seriously. I paid for no subscription. I wasn't at a fancy bar wearing my "keeping up with the Ashley's" trendy look. I mean, this was like a simple five step process. The very thing movies are made of! We said hello. We talked. He asked for my number. He called. He asked to see me again. BAM!
Now, I am in no way saying that I am in love at first sight with this guy. I don't even know him, but I just find it amazing that after months of paying Eharmony to introduce me to singles in my area that are compatible with my personality on "28 different points", that I have personally met only two of them. And free of charge, this guy wants to drive 4 hours north of where he lives and take me to a Dallas Stars game (or whatever I want to do).
There is something either really wrong or really right with this situation.
First, let me just let you know that 60 is like the new 40 -but better. I mean, back in the day, 60 was old (to me anyway). Now, 60 is retired, custom-built house on a hill with a view, and plenty of beer and wine. So, I went to this party expecting to have a fairly good time with my father and some of his fun-loving friends, and ended up meeting one of the 20-something sons of the couple that threw the party.
I guess the whole "revelation" thing started when I realized that I would not have to hand over my 16-digit credit card number in order to "view his profile" a la Eharmony. In fact, I owed this guy no payment at all except for good conversation in return for his. We ate, drank, and talked pretty much all night long about everything in the world and nothing in particular. I could tell he was into me because a) after we would drift apart in the crowd, he would come and find me; b) he is a Longhorn, but still checked the A&M v. Tech football score for me; and c) would say things like, "Wow, I think I am telling you way more about myself than you would ever want to know." Yeah, kind of, but it was also kind of refreshing to be around someone who wasn't trying so hard to be cool that his personality was a big fat zero.
Unfortunately, this guy lives in H-Town and I live north of Big D . . . so . . . yeah . . . that stretch of 45 is just so painful. But here's the deal: He invited me to be his "Charlie" from Top Gun for Halloween, but I had to say no due to plans to visit friends in Tucson, but we exchanged numbers at the party anyway.
And he called tonight. Seriously. I paid for no subscription. I wasn't at a fancy bar wearing my "keeping up with the Ashley's" trendy look. I mean, this was like a simple five step process. The very thing movies are made of! We said hello. We talked. He asked for my number. He called. He asked to see me again. BAM!
Now, I am in no way saying that I am in love at first sight with this guy. I don't even know him, but I just find it amazing that after months of paying Eharmony to introduce me to singles in my area that are compatible with my personality on "28 different points", that I have personally met only two of them. And free of charge, this guy wants to drive 4 hours north of where he lives and take me to a Dallas Stars game (or whatever I want to do).
There is something either really wrong or really right with this situation.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Italia
Well my husband and I got back late last night from ten fabulous days in Italy. As you may have read in an earlier post, we traveled with another couple and I have to say that it could not have gone better! We had a terrific time together.
We started the trip in Rome and despite what people say, you can see Rome in a day or two. Don't get me wrong, we hit the ground running as soon as we got there and we walked the entire city over the course of the two days. We did a tour of the Vatican, which I highly recommend because we learned a lot and more importantly got to skip the massive line outside the entrance.
Our next destination was the Amalfi coast. On the way down we stopped in Naples for a pizza (the pizza was amazing, the town was scary) and then took the local train to Pompeii. I had higher expectations for Pompeii, but I am still glad we saw it. After Pompeii we continued on the train to the Amalfi Coast and it was absolutely beautiful. One of the days we took a private boat tour to and around the Isle of Capri. I have to say I think that was my favorite part of the vacation.
After the Amalfi Coast we went to Florence for three days. We did a Tuscany Bike Tour and it was killer and a killer. They aren't lying when they say the Tuscany area is full of hills. We rode to a winery owned by Prince Cosini and after a tour of the winery we had lunch and two glasses of wine. Unfortunately, the wine did not make the hills on the return bike ride any easier.
After Florence we headed back to Rome for one last day before our flight out. It was a relaxing day just walking around the town. Overall it was a great trip, but I am glad to be home. The flight from Rome to NY was 10.5 hours (including an hour sitting on the runway) and the trip from NY to Dallas was 8 hours (including four hours of sitting on the runway, I'm still annoyed about that). Needless to say I am exhausted and tired of being on a plane. The toughest part comes tomorrow....going back to work.
We started the trip in Rome and despite what people say, you can see Rome in a day or two. Don't get me wrong, we hit the ground running as soon as we got there and we walked the entire city over the course of the two days. We did a tour of the Vatican, which I highly recommend because we learned a lot and more importantly got to skip the massive line outside the entrance.
Our next destination was the Amalfi coast. On the way down we stopped in Naples for a pizza (the pizza was amazing, the town was scary) and then took the local train to Pompeii. I had higher expectations for Pompeii, but I am still glad we saw it. After Pompeii we continued on the train to the Amalfi Coast and it was absolutely beautiful. One of the days we took a private boat tour to and around the Isle of Capri. I have to say I think that was my favorite part of the vacation.
After the Amalfi Coast we went to Florence for three days. We did a Tuscany Bike Tour and it was killer and a killer. They aren't lying when they say the Tuscany area is full of hills. We rode to a winery owned by Prince Cosini and after a tour of the winery we had lunch and two glasses of wine. Unfortunately, the wine did not make the hills on the return bike ride any easier.
After Florence we headed back to Rome for one last day before our flight out. It was a relaxing day just walking around the town. Overall it was a great trip, but I am glad to be home. The flight from Rome to NY was 10.5 hours (including an hour sitting on the runway) and the trip from NY to Dallas was 8 hours (including four hours of sitting on the runway, I'm still annoyed about that). Needless to say I am exhausted and tired of being on a plane. The toughest part comes tomorrow....going back to work.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
A Whiner Gets Her Way
Many months ago, right before I started blogging, I was allowed the great privilege of guest blogging on my dear friend Mojito Maven's blog, Make Mine A Mojito. On the guest post (http://makemineamojito.com/2009/08/12/why-must-new-shoes-squeak/), I wrote that due to the very horrendous conditions of Company XX's parking lot, that I was forced to buy new black work pumps because my other shoes had been RUINED by all of the potholes and cracks. Now, let me first explain that this isn't your average little parking lot. I am whining for a cause. This parking lot is like, Walmart on a Saturday times two. It is hell, especially if it is raining (like today) or if you have to park way in the back flow lot (like today) because your alarm just wasn't shrill enough to coax you out of bed on time.
Nevertheless, this story has a happy ending, and it is all my fault. Readers--I am practically a Goddess in my office now. To my co-workers, I am the woman who single handedly convinced, no demanded!, in her finest Southern whine, that the entire parking lot be repaved. And you know what? As a result . . . it's being "handled".
Now to be honest (oh dear, I sound like a lying politician), but really, to be honest, my company sends out an employee opinion survey every few years to gauge what Company XX is doing well and what needs work. I used this survey as a sounding board for my parking lot complaint. I told people about it, and most laughed at me. But now, those same people are looking at me with admiration. They are giving me the thumbs up, they are asking me to draft similar complaints because I am proven to get results, and they are giving me their diet-Pepsi at meetings as a thank you.
The parking lot has been under construction this entire week, and every day that I walk past it, I give myself a little pat on the back for a whine well done.
A Whiner gets her way and new shoes will finally be safe from destruction.
Nevertheless, this story has a happy ending, and it is all my fault. Readers--I am practically a Goddess in my office now. To my co-workers, I am the woman who single handedly convinced, no demanded!, in her finest Southern whine, that the entire parking lot be repaved. And you know what? As a result . . . it's being "handled".
Now to be honest (oh dear, I sound like a lying politician), but really, to be honest, my company sends out an employee opinion survey every few years to gauge what Company XX is doing well and what needs work. I used this survey as a sounding board for my parking lot complaint. I told people about it, and most laughed at me. But now, those same people are looking at me with admiration. They are giving me the thumbs up, they are asking me to draft similar complaints because I am proven to get results, and they are giving me their diet-Pepsi at meetings as a thank you.
The parking lot has been under construction this entire week, and every day that I walk past it, I give myself a little pat on the back for a whine well done.
A Whiner gets her way and new shoes will finally be safe from destruction.
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