Jami Bids Myron Cope Adieu

I tried to think of something clever to say, or poignant, or at least different from what most people are saying. Wednesday was doubly sad for the loss of both Myron Cope, a Pittsburgh living legend and William Buckley. I don't have much to say about Buckely, having to admit honestly that while I knew some about him, I haven't read any of his books. But everyone in Pittsburgh knew Myron Cope. Myron, one of the first sportswriters to turn into a radio show host as well as a commentator, didn't have the kind of voice you'd expect in an announcer. To be bluntly honest, there were times we turned the sound down on the TV when he just got to be too much. He wasn't a studly guy or a former athlete, but he was undoubtedly the Voice of the Steelers. Best known for his, uh, sayings: "Yoi" and "Double Yoi!" (rhymes with boy), and the instantly recognizable Terrible Towel, Myron also was known for calling a spade and spade and not being afraid to criticize a player who wasn't doing his best. Myron's legacy lives on in the Terrible Towel, not just because of the Towel itself, but because he gave the rights and trademark to the Towel to the Allegheny Valley School, a school for the disabled. To me, the reason Pittsburghers loved him, though, is that we knew he was real. He had flaws. He made mistakes. He made an occasional bad choice. But he got to be a part of the Steelers and he's the first pro football announcer to get into the Radio Hall of Fame. Today our city bid him farewell, in a manner befitting both Myron and the city he loved. At a rally, downtown, in the cold and snow, hundreds gathered to wave their towels and say their goodbyes. Goodbye, Myron. We'll see you in heaven, where all true Steeler fans go.

Jami's Friday Feast

Feast 181 Appetizer Who was the last person you hugged? Eddie Soup Share a beauty or grooming trick or tip with us. No matter what you're wearing or how you're groomed, you look better if you act like you're totally confident. Salad What does the color yellow make you think of? Flowers Main Course If you were to make your living as a photographer, what subject would your pictures revolve around? Babies and dogs dressed up in costumes that amuse me. Dessert What was the longest book you ever read? Which is longer, the Bible or the Stand?

Jami's Husband May Need Glasses

I only rarely poke fun at the Husband, because he's a great guy. And I always make sure he's cool before I post anything. This I had to share, though. Yesterday I worked and the Husband was off. I still made lunch and attempted to make dinner (it wasn't thawed enough, so we got pizza). So, when the time came to put Eddie to bed, I offered the Husband a choice: put the boy to bed or clean up. The Husband looked around at the floor, so covered with toys that to take a step, you have to push them out of your way with your foot before you put it down, at the table 3/4 covered with his various tools and documents, the lunch and dinner dishes still on the counter, the kitchen trash can filled to the very brim. Then he looked at me without a hit of humor or sarcasm and asked, in a confused voice "What needs cleaned?" (NOTE: the missing "to be" is a Pittsburgh dialect thing). I am not kidding you. He could not figure out what needed to be done. I hear this malady is not uncommon to men. The complete inability to see something which requires cleaning. I hope to find a cure, someday.

Jami Needs Help Naming

Okay, I have a handheld computer thingy that needs a name. I'll just been calling him "him" and "the Intermec".Here are some pictures.


He really needs a name, and I feel especially bad about him not having one because I dropped him on his head this afternoon. He kept working just fine and I couldn't even say "Sorry, ____, Thanks for not breaking". I am a loss, no ideas even. He's definitely a guy, though.

Jami, the Coworkers and the Email

a random memory Several years ago, I worked in the engineering department of a software company. One of my coworkers was a young, just-out-of-college, single guy, Ameet. Once a week, Ameet and a group of his friends played some basketball, just friendly pick up games, you know? But on those days, they'd email smack talk back around to each other, and sometimes we'd hear Ameet chuckling and then furiously typing. I don't know where Ameet had his personal email account, but some of them, like Hotmail, limit the number of emails you can send in one day, trying to cut back on spammers. Ameet had exceeded his personal limit for that day, and had to start smack talking from his business account. You might see where this is going. A few minutes after Ameet sent an email along the lines of "Say that to my face and I'll slap you like the b**ch you are" he got an email from a guy in our marketing department. Not your stereotypical outgoing marketing guy, but a shy, quiet guy who worked there for two years and I couldn't even tell you if he was married. The email said "Ameet - I don't think this email is for me. Bob" Yup. Ameet's work email had that auto-complete, so when he typed Bob, it just assumed he meant Bob at work, not Bob who apparently is a little b**ch. In case you are wondering, yes, people of Indian descent can indeed blush. Neither of them ever mentioned it again. Of course the rest of us did. Some days I do miss working.

Jami and Oscar

For many years, I watched the Oscars in breathless wonder. I saw as many of the nominated movies and performances as I could (considering that for most of that time I had no premium channels and a small entertainment budget). I had my picks, I knew who was presenting and I cared about what people wore. Oscars meant dignity and grace, style and recognition, and most of all - winning. It's the glory. In my younger days, I'd thought of being a TV and then eventually movie director. I have pretty good visual sense for things and I love bossing people around. I'd totally be a kick-butt movie director, no doubt. But I left my TV dreams for my love of radio and I left radio for need of money. And then of course, I left the workforce all together for Mommying. But I digress. What I wanted, more than anything, was an Oscar. I still do, really. I want an Oscar (and I want a Stanley Cup ring). I don't want someone to give me theirs or to get one at some sad auction for a celeb gone wrong. I want to win one (that goes for Stanley, too) and I don't even care what for. But, as Eddie would say I really, really do want it. I do. However, and I can't pinpoint where this happened, I got sick of the Oscar ceremony. Maybe it was a few of the crappy hosts. Maybe it was the celebrities starting to dress like lunatics instead of glamorous (and yes, several still do go for the glam). I know that part of it is that many of the movies being nominate I just despised. That started with Titanic. What a piece of 垃圾(luh suh) that was. This year I haven't seen a single nominated best picture, though I do want to see Juno. So I didn't watch the Oscars. I watched the hilarious Death at a Funeral instead, with some of the Evil Fudge That is Still Beating Me. We had a great time.

Jami Is a Good Egg

Ah, the Lenten season, when the stores are stocked with a variety of egg and bunny shaped candies. We both know that if I say "Easter candy" you thought of Cadbury eggs. Because they rock. It's the most brilliant marketing strategy - make a delicious candy, and then make it available only about 6-8 weeks a year. In the past week, three people in the stores have said to me something along the lines of "I love these and I might as well buy a bunch because you only get them this time of year." Just today, I'm in a grocery store working and a woman is looking longingly at the multi-packs of the eggs. I assume she noticed me watching her from the corner of my eye while I work and she picks up a pack and says "Aren't this the best?" I chuckle and agree. She puts it in her cart and looks some more. She takes another pack and says, "You can only get them at Easter, but they're soooo good." She puts the second pack in her cart and looks at me, at the eggs, at me. "And I'm PMSing!" She grabs another pack and scurries away. Brilliant.

Jami Versus the Yummy Fudge

The fudge, it taunts me from the kitchen. The Husband, sweetheart that he is, made me a batch of super-delicious homemade fudge. It's a late Valentine's treat and it's soooo yummy. I can't walk by it. I can't go near the kitchen because it's in there and if I get within 10 feet of it, I have to cut a little piece off and eat it. I am powerless against its chocolatey goodness. I may end up just eating the entire batch just to end the battle. I mean, if it's gone, I win, right? I have to go. The fudge is calling.

Jami Ponders the Pot Problem

This post is not about what you think it is. As I made lunch today, I pondered the old saying "He doesn't have a pot to piss in." It came up because as I went to make spaghetti noodles, I realized that my larger pot remained in the dishwasher, which I'd forgotten to start last night. So I didn't have a pot to cook noodles in, which of course, reminded me of the old saying. So that's how we got here. Now, you might think, at first glance that this implies that the poor person, for the sake of discussion, let's call him John, doesn't have any pots at all. I believe this must be a fallacy, because let's face it, if you have only one pot, you are not going to use it for pissing purposes. I'm just saying, if John is so very poor that he has only been able to procure for himself the one pot, my guess is that he would probably use it to cook in. And, if he cooks his meals in this one and only pot, he surely would not pee into it, am I right? Even a single guy wouldn't do that in his only cooking pot, especially since the saying must have come from the times before microwaves, so it's not like John can use his pot for pissing while he heats up his Hungry Man tray. Let's face, it, John can go outside like the dog, but he can't make mac-and-cheese without a pot, so a man of limited resources like John isn't going to mess up his mac-and-cheese pot. Therefore, it is my contention that this saying must mean that John is so poor that he only has one pot and that if he had another one, then maybe he'd have one to piss in.

Jami's Friday Feast

Feast 180 Appetizer Have you ever played a practical joke on anyone? If so, what did you do and who was your victim? In Girl Scouts we did several. Once on April Fools Day, my dad told about how he had put salt in the sugar bowl when he was a kid and someone put salt in their coffee. I did it the following April Fools and he put the salt on his Cheerios and then yelled at me because he'd had to throw the whole bowl out. He did apologize after I told him he gave me the idea. Soup What do your salt and pepper shakers look like? They are the smaller blue Tupperware ones, which apparently they no longer make. We also have ones that match our china. Salad Where is the next place you plan to visit (on vacation or business)? We're going to Erie beach in August. Main Course What kind of lotion or cream do you use to keep your hands from getting too dry? Whatever we have. I get lotions for gifts fairly regularly (I must look dry), or else I buy whatever decent brand is on sale. Usually Intensive Care or Suave. Dessert Make up a dessert, tell us its ingredients, and give it a name. Sliced strawberries coated with molten chocolate and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. I'll call it Berry Tasty.

Jami and the Coworkers

You can read EDW's issue with a non-coworker but person working nearby here. In a way, it's what I've been sort of thinking about lately. When I tell people that I'm a stay-at-home mommy (though now I have a part-time gig), one of the things some people will ask is "Do you miss work?" Let me just say, does anyone miss working once they stop it? Do I miss my job would be a better question. I do miss spending time goofing off online. I miss having nice lunches at a restaurant. I miss having work that was actually done once I finished it (as opposed to laundry, dishes, dusting, etc). I miss intelluctual challenges. I miss happy hours. I don't miss the commute. I don't miss my alarm clock (though I have one now that goes "MMMOOOOMMMMMYYYYY!!!!"). I don't miss demanding clients, impossible deadlines, or some of the more tedious tasks. Mostly I miss my coworkers, who at the last job at least, were mostly a good lot. This new job doesn't have coworkers, which is a bit of a bummer. Ah well. At least I already have friends, right?

Jami Has Pajamas

Awhile ago, one of my friends told me about overhearing her 4-year-old son talking to his cousin. He said, "Boys have penises, girls have pajamas." I thought about this tonight as I was putting Eddie into his pj's, and I think the boy had a point. Boys wear pajamas when they're kids, but by the time they hit what - jr. high? High school? - they ditch the jammies. I can't say that I have a great deal of experience with men in their sleeping gear, but from what I do have, I'd have to say most men sleep in some variety of undershorts and t's. I could be wrong and every man reading this might be wearing button-down flannel jammies and a plush robe, but I somehow doubt it. The Husband owns two pairs of pj pants that he wears when it's really cold or when he's lounging around the house, but no full sets I, on the other hand, and most of the women I know, love jammies. I totally dig fuzzy fleece pjs and if it were socially acceptable I'd wear them about 97% of the time, including to weddings, funerals and the Grammys (but not the Oscars). I don't like nightgowns, though. The way I move around at night, a nightgown ends up bunched around my neck, like I wore a large, bulky scarf to bed. Not good. I prefer the pullover shirts to the button down ones, but both are acceptable. I even like short jammies for summer. Yup, girls have pajamas.

Jami And Her Future Calvin

We have most of the Calvin and Hobbes books. There are some strips that I've read a dozen times and I still giggle when I read them. I never realized that it might be predicting my future. Today in the car, Eddie yells "FERRIS WHEEL!!" in a rather alarmed manner. I glanced around, but didn't see any. Also, I didn't even know he knew that phrase or why that might be scary. "Where?" I ask. Eddie screams, "It's chasing us!! Drive faster, Mommy, drive faster!" From the panic in his voice, I had one of those surreal moments where I actually looked in the rearview, wondering if somehow something was chasing us. No ferris wheels, or wheels of any kind seemed to be following us, so I told him that we'd be safe when we got to Gamma's house. Apparently, they had to convince him that the ferris wheel followed me when I left. Then, when I tucked him into bed, he said "Close door! Close door!" Since I always do anyway, I asked why. His calm reply: "To keep dragons out." Well. Of course. It's only going to get worse from here . . .

Jami Is Minty Fresh

Why is mint the flavor of clean for our mouths? Sure, they've been adding cinnamon to the mouth-cleaning flavors, but mostly, our toothpastes, mouthwashes, even our floss is mint flavored. We think mint tastes clean, but is that because we grew up with minty freshness? If I got someone from the outer regions of nowhere, a place in which neither mint nor toothpaste is readily available and gave him a mint would he think "Gee, my mouth feels clean"? Mint doesn't clean. If it's a clean scent, why aren't soap, shampoo and household cleaners available in mint? When it comes to tooth cleansing, apples are supposed to be good. Perhaps toothpaste should be apple-flavored. In nature, carnivorous animals clean their teeth by chewing on bones. Herbivores chew on tough grasses. Salt water and sun exposure help the plover (small bird) keep a croc's teeth clean. I don't think that Bone, Grass, or Salt-and-Plover flavor mouth wash would sell well. Guess we'll stick with mint.

Jami On a Roll With Butter

I clearly remember, lo these many years hence, the first time I saw a bread machine. First, perhaps I should tell you that I love bread. I mean looooove bread. Homemade or store bought, with stuff in it, toasted, whatever. One dream I have is to bake a loaf of bread large enough for me to crawl inside of with a small bowl of melted butter and eat until I fall asleep in the still warm loaf, then wake up and eat my way out. So now you get it. I love bread. Back to that magic moment, when I saw what seemed impossibly miraculous - a machine that makes fresh bread for you. I saw it in the LL Bean outlet store in Maine and I wanted it so much I'd've tried to cram it under my shirt if I hadn't been on a Youth Group Mission Trip. It was $349.99, a fortune to my 14-year-old self. And though I begged and pleaded when I got home, my parents would not order me one. When they left the specialty stores at hit the mainstream, dropping prices, my mother bought one. It made the weirdly shaped loaves we're all familiar with now, and it took some practice, but it worked, My mom learne to make excellent rolls and cinnamon bread and other various things. For my wedding shower, she bought me my very own. A few years ago, with work and everything crowding my time, the bread machine was hardly being used. The loaves didn't seem to every come out right, no matter what I tried. I put it in the closet as counter space is at a premium. This summer, I got it back out, missing the scent of it baking and the unutterable joy of fresh hot bread. After a few failed loaves, it occurred to me that the heating unit was the problem. It just wasn't baking, but if I used it to make the dough and popped it in the oven - viola! Perfect bread. I did this through the fall, got a few new recipes that I love and basically single-handedly making up for all the people who are on a low carb diet. I even made Christmas gifts with it (english muffins). However, with the heating part not working, I couldn't set it for dinner time and leave. I couldn't wake up to hot raisin bread. So I saw a decent one on Amazon and put it on my Christmas list. On Christmas morning, I opened up a brand new bread machine. Joy!! Thanks, Grandma and Pop-Pop. But do you know, what is better than having a bread machine? Having two bread machines! When I'm not using the timer and I will be home, I realized it's as easy to make two batches as it is to make one. And then I get TWO loaves of bread or batches of rolls or whatever. Right now, I am listening to the joyous rhythmic thumping of two bread machines kneeding dough for dinner rolls. One batch we'll have for dinner. The other will be made into "brown-n-serve" style rolls and popped into the freezer, thereby allowing me to make hot fresh rolls for dinner two more times. Sure, the Isrealites got manna from heaven, but could there be a bigger miracle than putting a few ingredients in a metal tub and recieving fresh hot bread? Bread machine - proof that there is a God.

Jami Guest Blogs and Stews in Her Jealousy

Yes, that's right, I am honored to be a guest blogger over at EDW's place while she whoops it up in Vegas. Soooo jealous. If wishes were horses, I'd be selling a few of them to fly my butt on out there and join in the debauchery. But wishes are not horses. It's true. And since my son is either insane or systematically trying to destroy me as part of some evil toddler plot, I can't write another post at this time. So go there, read that and if I'm not committed to an asylum by tomorrow, I'll post here then.

Jami Believes There is Someone For Everyone

Don't believe me? http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080213/ap_en_ce/people_gary_coleman So there.

Jami Thinks You Need to Read This

I'm not reviewing this book - I'm telling you to go out and buy, borrow or download it and really read it. Murdered by Mumia - by Maureen Faulkner & Michael Smerconish Faulkner is the widow of the murdered police officer and this story is not about the trial per se, as much as the living legend Mumia has become after the trial as well as the things that she has had to endure since the murder. This book is not about whether or not the death penalty is right, and that's not the point, either. Of all involved, who has the most interest in being sure that the right person is convicted? The one who loved him the most, his wife. Faulkner attended every day of the trial and has even published the entire transcipt at http://www.danielfaulkner.com/ This is a hard book to read on many levels, but I challenge you to read it, regardless of what you know, or think you know, about the murder of Danny Faulkner.

Jami Dreams a Little Dream of You

Well, not all of you, but my dream last night featured three of my regular friends/readers: PW, EDW and Patrick. Also, two celebrities. Basically, EDW, PW and I were scheduled to appear on Dr. Phil. I'm not entirely sure why, I think it had something to do with people who blog. Patrick told us he lives close to where they film Dr. Phil (not true in the waking world) and we could stay with him. When we got to Patrick's house, it turned out that his wife was not at all happy about the arrangement. She didn't believe we had been invited there for the Dr. Phil show, she believed we were "some internet hos" that Patrick had "ordered up for himself". Not the best hostess, she called us very not nice names and even spit at us. Nonetheless, we stayed at her house, since Patrick had set up a nice little work area where we all had laptop docking stations. We had Dr. Phil call Patrick's wife to explain that we three happily married women were not purchased online, and after talking to her, Dr. Phil decided that they made a better story than the three blogging girls, so we were out and they were in. Disappointed, but not out of options, PW, EDW and I went to a casting call for a commercial. They were looking for a "mother type" which we decided that at least one of us must look like. Piers Morgan did the interviews and none of us were chosen. So we all went bike riding, Piers included. I guess overall, it's a good trip if you get to go biking with Piers Morgan.

Jami - the Helpless Female

Today I did something that I haven't done in more than 6 years, and only once in the 11+ years since I've been married. I pumped my own gas. See, when we got married, the Husband took over the thankless task of making sure the car(s) have gas. It's one of the many ways he takes care of me, and also, probably makes sure I don't mess up the engine by running out of gas. But mostly the first part. He meant to put gas in the car yesterday when we were out running errands as a family, but we were busy and forgot. Today, while out, the "check gauges" light lit up, momentarily freaking me out until I realized that it just meant I was low on gas. Really, really low. Too low to go home and tell the Husband to take care of it. Sigh. I had no choice. I had to do it. When I pulled into the station, it occured to me that:

1. I had never put gas in this particular car, since it's only 3 years old.
2. I had never used the credit card method of paying at the pump.
3. I didn't know which side the gas tank was on

Of course, I guessed wrong on the side one, and had to pull up, turn around. No big strong man ran up to assist me, so I had to figure the whole thing out all by myself. I am pretty sure I managed to pay, but I still have a slight fear that I stole the gas and the police will be here any minute. I almost drove off with the gas cap still off (the dang thing was hard enough to get off in the first place!) because I was paying too much attention to figuring out if I'd paid. But I did it! This sweet delicate flower managed the scary, dirty task all on my own. Yay me.

Oh, and because I"m so paranoid, I spent the entire time the gas was pumping reminding myself that if it catches fire, you should immediately let go and drop the nozzle and back away instead of the natural impulse to yank it out of the car. But that's just me, and it didn't burst into flames, so it's all good.

Jami Brags About Her Perfect Son

Eddie is two-and-a-half now, and will tell you that. I could brag that he can recognize about 5-6 letters and tell you what sound they make. I could mention that he's almost unnaturally coordinated for a kid his age and can catch a football (Nerf), walk the zig-zag balance beam at Gymboree and climb anything unaided. I might mention that he says "please" and "thank you" mostly without prompting. I may tell you that he can count to 11. Or that he knows what street he lives on, that he figures things out, and that he's even made homemade pizza. Sure, he's brilliant and gorgeous and witty, but how about this? Yesterday he say the picture of Nelson on my daily Simpsons calendar, and said "He say 'Ha ha!'" That's right, on top of all the other fantastic things, my son is a pop culture prodigy. I am so proud. BTW- is anyone else having trouble with the spell-checker on blogger? I can't get it to work for days now.

Jami Meets Mrs. Stewart

This is available in our local supermarket:



Is it me? Or does Mr. Stewart look seriously unhappy? And sort of vaguely like Mrs. Doubtfire. She doesn't look like someone I'd want to buy liquid bluing from, even if I knew what one is supposed to do with liquid bluing. It's in the cleaning aisle, but I don't know how clean something would be if you put liquid bluing on it.

The thing I find most interesting that someone, somewhere approved this label. Someone looked at this face and said "Yes! That will sell our liquid bluing! That's exactly the look I'm going for. " I'd like to meet that person, and just say "Really?" I mean, even if this is your beloved mother, surely, you'd rather see her smiling.

Hmm, looking at it again, I notice that it's concentrated. Maybe Mrs. Stewart is trying to convey to you how hard she is concentrating on your liquid bluing.

Jami's Organic Confusion

I'm going to start out by saying that I'm not into the organic movement. I have to say I am just not convinced. Don't get me wrong, Organic Folks, I'm not saying that you're wrong. I'm just not thoroughly convinced that you're right. Also, this isn't going to be the forum to debate that. I've heard your arguments, I just want to wait and see. First off, the idea that just because something is 'organic' or all-natural that it must be better than not organic doesn't ring true to me. The following is a list of things that are totally all natural and organic and from the earth that I strongly suggest you don't eat:

• poison ivy
• elephant dung
• fugu (fish that if prepared incorrectly can kill you)
• live bees
• whale puke
• opium

These things are not organic, but still all natural, and also not good:

• arsenic
• plutonium
• cyanide

So, we can see that plenty of things that are natural are not healthy. In fact, I'd be willing to make the argument that something totally non-organic, say, my beloved Diet Coke is better for you than the things on this list, possibly excepting the bees, which may be painful, but also might be nutritious; I couldn't find info on that.

Secondly, organic is a pretty loose term. In dictionary terms, organic means basically, something that comes from living things. It is my understanding, from watching the news recently, that the term "organic" on foods and especially on other things (shampoos, household cleaners, etc.) are not closely monitored, so it's sort of a crap shoot if the organic whatever is actually organic. Case in point, I've been looking at the snacks in the organic aisle and I'm disturbed by the organic microwave popcorn, all of which have "artificial butter flavor". How can it be organic with artificial butter flavor? Is there an Artificial Butter Flavor plant I don't know about?

Third, I like my produce to look appetizing and I don't like paying for bad spots. I'm poor and I can't afford to pay more for food I can eat less of.

Fourth, on the all natural front, everything comes from the earth. No matter how processed it's been, and that you can argue (but we won't), there is nothing I'm aware of that is currently being made from materials foreign to our world. Whatever it is, it started as something natural.

Last, this isn't an argument, but it really made me wonder. There are currently "Certified Organic" cotton balls. Unless I misunderstand the proper use of cotton balls, you don't eat them or have them in contact with your skin for a long period of time. I'm not sure why I would care if my cotton balls have inorganic materials in them. Basically, I grab one, wipe something and then pitch them. Maybe I'm being shortsighted, but I don't need to pay more to be sure they are totally organic.

So, there you go. I buy organics when it's cost-effective and tasty. I buy totally non-organic cleaners because I hate germs. I buy whatever shampoo/conditioner, deodorant and cosmetics are least expensive. Yes, I know you can tell, ha ha. And that's all I have to say about that.

Jami Hears a Few Funny Things

Regular reader and all-around awesome woman Aerie informed me that I've been slacking lately and since I live to make Aerie's life better (as do we all), I wanted to be sure to post today. So here's a few quick things that made me chuckle... At a drug store where I worked yesterday, a couple was examining diet aids. The husband didn't evince much interest while his wife compared, until he checked out the cost. "Look at the price!" He said. She ignored him. "Couldn't you just exercise??" I started to chuckle as she glared at him. He started to whistle what I later recognized as the theme to Rocky. She was not amused. For any guys who see nothing wrong with this, I would suggest trying "Baby, you don't need to lose weight, you look just fine" That way you save the money and get good hubby points. At the Super Bowl Party I attended last night, Aerie's cousin (who we'll just call AC) wore an attractive black sweater-dress, tights and boots. She told us that as she and her husband (we'll call him "John" were leaving for the party, he exclaimed "Aren't you going to put on some pants?" We all had a good chuckle, but let's look at this from John's point of view. Imagine the trouble he'd been in if AC had arrived at the party without pants, and not meaning too. Then he'd really have been in trouble. He said "It looks like a shirt, I didn't know." He's got a point. Sure, she had tights and boots on, but what if she had somehow forgotten her pants? Wouldn't she have been grateful that he noticed? Poor guy, that really was a no-win situation for him. I mentioned before that when I'm working, people approach me to ask questions about the store's sales or stock or whatever, and I explain that "I don't work for this store" and that I'm sorry I can't help them. But recently, people have been trying to argue with me about it. Look, if I lied to you and I do work for this store, do you really think I'm going to go "Oh, you caught me, I DO know!" If I'm a such a crappy employee that I already lied to you, why would I help you if you keep bothering me? Maybe I'm some lunatic who has a scanner and a UPC fetish or a competitor sneaking in to gather info on this store. The last one was: Woman: Do you work here? Are these (pointing at a picture in an ad) still on sale? Me: I'm sorry, I don't work for (name of store), so I don't know. Woman: You don't? Me: No, sorry. Woman: But you have that price gun thing. Me: Yes, I do inventory for a market research company. It doesn't tell me prices. Woman: But you were here before. I just need to know if these are still on sale. Me: I'm sorry, but I don't know. Maybe you could ask at the front counter. Woman: (annoyed at my rudeness) Can't you just scan it and tell me? Me: No, it doesn't tell me prices, it just takes inventory. Woman: Well, it looks like you work here. She storms off. Now, seriously, did she really think at some point I'd just go "Ooops, wait a minute, I DO work here. I totally forgot. Silly me"? Maybe I'm wrong, but I'd like to think that if I asked someone, even if he/she was wearing a sign that said "I work here, ask me!" that when he/she said "I don't know", I'd believe it. But that's just me. Sorry you probably already knew at least two of those stories, Aerie. I'll try to be funnier tomorrow.

Jami Presents a Few Pictures

Sorry it took me so long to get these posted, but these are the photos from our Family Day:

Jami's Friday Feast

Feast 178 Appetizer What is your favorite kind of cereal? Cheerios. It's the classic. Delicious, crunchy AND good for you. How can you go wrong with Cheerios? Soup When was the last time you purchased something for your home, what was it, and in which room did it go? I am not sure if this counts as purchased, but I used my "points" on a website I visit to get us an electric griddle. It's in the kitchen (duh). We've used it a ton, and I really didn't think we'd use it much, but the Husband really wanted one. Salad What is the funniest commercial you’ve ever seen? I can't remember what it was for, but there was a commercial in the 80s where a bunch of stuff kept going wrong, basically destroying someone's house? I don't even really remember what all happened, but I remember howling every time I saw it. Main Course Make up a name for a company by using a spice and an animal (example: Cinnamon Monkey). Tarragon Alligator. I have no idea what this question means. Dessert Fill in the blank: I haven’t ______ since ______. I haven't ridden a bicycle since I was about 12.