Tour de Thanksgiving

We just got back from our family Tour de Thanksgiving. Though we have traveled to Texas and back before, this was the first time toting another living creature for which we are responsible.

It occurred to me that I might need a doggie diaper bag instead of a makeshift Wal-Mart sack that was overflowing with treats, water bottles, and already indistinguishable stuffed toys. A sock monkey, with one eyeball barely hanging on for dear life, seemed to look at me from the sack as if to say, "Really? I'm cool with my 2-week lifespan. Just leave me behind." 

But instead, we pressed on-- a few hours later than planned-- but we pressed on nonetheless.

Road trips are always very informative. They teach you about yourself, they teach you about the person you are with, and they enlighten you as to why "life" is often compared to the open road. 

This particular road trip taught me the following:

• Nasty snacks taste better when you are in the car. I remember the distinct smell of Corn Nuts invading every open space of our mini van growing up. We'd groan, Dad would munch, and usually feed us the "It keeps me awake," line. While on dog duty, I see Justin march out of the gas station with Ranch Corn Nuts in hand. I tried one in a moment of desperation-- and ended up eating his second bag. Sorry, babe.

• My bathroom standards drop tremendously. I can hop over mysterious wads of toilet paper. But the toilet seat still appears to be ivory so I feel like I'm peeing at the Hilton.

• We can now blame silent but deadly gases on the dog. Poor Fiona voluntarily claimed every single odor that escaped the entire ride. She agrees that it lends itself to a smelly but happy marital state.

• There is no car temperature at which both parties are content. Your frost-bitten fingers are knocking on death's door or you feel as if someone is blowing a full-blast hair dryer on your face.

• Insisting on being your husband's designated texter is somewhat contradicted by giving him a wrapped Starburst to peel away in the dark. They don't make commercials about those dangers, but you will get a funny look.

• You can eat fast food without judgement. I always try to play along with the whole, "I feel so bad when I eat fast food" bit that's going around. But let me be frank: I love fast food. There. I said it. One of the most exciting feelings in this life is finding a few fries that fell to the bottom of the bag.

• My cute dog may not be able to protect me, but she will cuddle with me until the paramedics get there. I'm taking Fiona for a potty break at a gas station. It's kind of dark and I see these three men approaching. I hear the dreaded, "Hey there!" I ignored them, but could hear their footsteps getting closer. They left me alone luckily-- but I wished for a moment I could pull a stunt like on those State Farm commercials.  Like a good neighbor, Fiona is a pitbull with rabies.

• Puppies try to hold it too. Traffic jam. Fiona's little tush starts bobbing up and down and her legs are shaking. I look down to see what is wrong and a little dab of urine is on my leg. Consider it the dog version of "Exxon 30 miles?! I hope they sell some Hanes Her Way in the random aisle." Call me parent of the year, but I constructed a temporary diaper out of paper towels. 

It was a pretty uneventful trip if you don't include the previous events. Fiona was a great passenger, slept most of the way and tried her darndest not to have an accident on my fancy travel pants.

It was good to see fall leaves. It was good to be pampered a little by my family. It was good to rap in the car to songs I haven't heard since college. Just the breath of fresh air I needed. 

Even if the air did smell like Corn Nuts.

50 Shades of Gray [Sweatpants]

I know the whole "50 Shades of Grey" frenzy has begun to die down as of late. I occasionally still overhear someone talking about it or see a shirtless Channing Tatum chilling on my Facebook newsfeed somewhere. 

But I was reminded of it in a strange way the other day at work. I snapped out of a daze I had been in for approximately 7 minutes, only to realize I had been daydreaming about my gray sweatpants the entire time. Their worn out elastic. The way I can tuck my feet into the leg and avoid wearing socks for warmth. The way I could fit two other individuals in there with me if such a need arises.

It's not that I'm too naive to understand the whole "50 Shades" phenomenon. It's not even that I'm a total prude. 

There just comes a day in every girl's life when she realizes that Matthew McConaughey just needs to put on a shirt, get off the beach, and do something. 

How did you become like this, you ask? You used to drool over boy bands and swear to your friends they were pointing at you when they sang a love song. You may or may not have tried to look up Justin Timberlake's phone number in a phonebook at a Memphis Red Lobster. 

It occurs because you wake up one day and it dawns on you: practicality beats pectoral muscles any day of the week, but mostly on weekends. Honey, if your washboard abs don't tackle a load of laundry, don't call 'em washboard. 

In my soon to be released novel, "50 Shades of Gray Sweatpants," you will find these steamy scenes:

• Man unloading the dishwasher. While opening the correct cabinet, he says in a low voice, "Hey baby, I know exactly where this colander goes." 

• Man completes your every Pinterest project and whim. "Hey there little darling-- just enjoy those pumpkin spice cupcakes while I finish your t-shirt headband collection."

•  Opening up her text message, a smile crosses her face as she reads: "Ordered Domino's. Added cheesy bread for only two extra dollars."

• She walks around the house with eager anticipation. Her heart begins to beat steadily. Her breath catches as she says, "The dog didn't leave a pile of poop on my clothes today."

•  She searched high and low for the perfect attention-getter. Victoria's Secret didn't have it. Cupid's didn't have it. Oh, but Wal-Mart did. Hand over that eight-dollar 6-pack of wedgie-less goodness. They threw a red one in for kicks. Can you say wild child?

• She calls out to him. He runs to her and provides the miraculous cure to her problem: a big, two-ply roll of Quilted Northern. 

• "Look at all these laundry baskets," she says with tears in her eyes. He presses a shirt to her nose and says, "These are all clean. I was going to fold them while you take a bubble bath." 

Ok, so my book may be a little more unrealistic than its original counterpart. But I feel like it is something worth fantasizing about.

My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you? 
Erma Bombeck 

 

A Puppy that I Used to Know

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1yY9RSkM8s&feature=youtu.be

Our first two weeks of pet parenting in song form.

Do's and Don'ts of Job Searching

I was approached today unexpectedly by a freshman college student who was confused, stressed and unsure about what career path to take and what she should do. I could tell she was on the verge of tears as she told me she was having problems outlining her schedule and that she didn't know what would be most beneficial to take.

Not sure why I was the go-to on that, as I am definitely not spokeswoman material for blueprinting your future ambitions. I am actually probably more of a powerpoint telling you how not to venture into the real world. But I have been there. And I have failed. And I have been rejected repeatedly. I have been one glance short of interviewing with my sweater inside out and one Band-Aid short of bleeding all over a prospective manager's office after a shaving catastrophe. I was a mess.

Some things I learned:

1. "All about who you know" doesn't mean you're tight with the CEO. Look at me, rhyming up a storm over here. But really-- I started to realize just how many people I didn't know when I began looking for a job. People I knew who flunked school were getting these wonderful careers because they knew someone with a rich dad.

I told a sweet older lady at church that I was looking for a job. She prodded me over a year ago to talk to the HR executive at this bank. Every Sunday I would disappoint her when I reported back that I had yet to make that call, thinking it was a waste of time since there were no job openings. But I did it as a favor. And wouldn't you know that Liberty Bank remembered me and gave me a chance when a position was available? Look for big hearts instead of big pocketbooks.

2. Don't Be Annoying: "Following up" is not interchangeable with "act like a crazy girlfriend who wants to define the relationship."

"Apply online" is not code for bust up in my office unexpectedly, hand me a 3-D resume and have your grandpa call to affirm that you are indeed a brilliant, sweet girl. Do you want to meet your eHarmony matches before seeing their profiles? Um no. Neither does your prospective boss.

3. Pick a career that you could enjoy, but one that can be readily found: If you love to paint, but you don't want to be an elementary art teacher someday, you may want to go with plan numero two. If you want to major in Literature, but shutter at the thought of teaching Hamlet to a bunch of adolescents-- to be or not to be shouldn't even be a question.

I don't mean to sound ugly here, but passion will only take you so far if you are miserable in the search for the perfect criteria. After a while, you may even begin to resent it for the course it has yet to take you on.

4. Say Goodbye to the Benjamins: Fresh off the college coo-coo farm, I once told an interviewer that I was hoping to make around $35,000 starting out at this entry-level position. I thought I was low-balling, too. The sad truth is that a lot of managers don't even make that. If they see you coming in with an unrealistic picture they can never meet, they'll probably just ride you off as too high maintenance. So do your research. Find what the going pay is, what you need to live on and start with that.

5. Choose high school and college part-time jobs wisely: I wish I could tell you that keeping score for the community center's softball league benefited my life greatly; that seeing old man catcher crack night after night placed me on the road to success. But I can't. Kids who began to be bank tellers in high school and college, however, gained enough experience to advance in banking by the time they hit their mid-twenties.

6. Don't Fall for Online Scams: I don't know why people would prey on people desperate for work, but they do. If an offer seems shady or too good to be true, avoid it or do more research. Companies you really want to work for aren't going to go out of their way to contact you out of the blue or ask you to meet them right away.

7. Wash your Facebook mouth out with soap: Even if you think your online self is wholesome, think about the impression your words and pictures create unintentionally for those who have never met you. Justin and I got in a tiff when I was looking for a job because of a sarcastic comment I made on my blog. After reading it from the standpoint of someone who doesn't know me, I could see his concern and re-worded. Even something as simple as posting 57 iPhone self-portraits of yourself in a row could speak volumes to an employer looking for a certain level of maturity.

8. Don't eat Mexican food before an interview. Just take my word for that one with no elaboration.

9. You're not a Superhuman: When they ask you if you have ever had to handle a conflict with another person, don't suddenly forget that whole there-was-only-one-perfect-person thing you learned in Sunday school. Conflict is inevitable. Mistakes are inevitable. They want to see a genuine display of resolution rather than a blank stare. So spill it, Mother Teresa.

10. Fact- No one really likes to work: I guess I pictured every future job like Santa's workshop. Whistling, artificial snow, happy kids. Career happiness truly occurs when you realize that everyone is just trying to get by. So make some friends, make some dough and don't feel restrained by the fact that you don't feel like singing "Jingle Bells" at 8 a.m.

"Those People"

 

We all have "those people" in our life. Those people you swear to yourself you will never become. Whether it's the mom who drives a mini van. Or the lady who becomes a pack rat. Or the man who answers the questions of others with unrelated, lengthy stories. Or my favorite one: people who stare down parents with screaming babies until they have one that loses it in Kroger.  

I became one of my "those people" last night. I dressed up my puppy in a hot dog costume and paraded her around in public. I knew the transformation had taken place when Justin and I asked the Petco lady if they had any Halloween costumes remaining. "Sorry, all we have is a hot dog costume." We didn't reveal to her that this was what we were in fact looking for. Had we, she probably would have remarked to her co-worker that she will never be one of "those people" who makes that obvious weenie dog-hot dog connection. Oh well. She'll probably drive a 15-passenger van some day. 

Perhaps I have also become these people I once scoffed at:

• Those people that...get excited when the word "comfort" or "flex" is on the side of a shoe box. I may or may not have purchased shoes with memory foam in them last week. 

• Those people that...give a Facebook play-by-play of a husband-wife conversation that occurred in the living room. Yeah, it's annoying. But how else would people know how precious we are?

• Those people that... watch senseless television to unwind. The last thing I want to do after staring at a spreadsheet all day is watch 60 Minutes. Give me some people who make me feel better about myself. I don't want one lightbulb to blink on.

• Those people that... wear Mom clothes. My dearest mother will take me into her closet on occasion and show me items she bought that she doesn't like or can't wear anymore. I jump on that like it's a Goodwill bin. 

• Those people that...try to make lame stories fit the topic of conversation just because you want to tell them. "Speaking of last night's episode of '30 Rock,' I tripped on a rock today and landed on my face. It was hilarious."

• Those people that... have a landfill purse. You know that lady you could walk up to in church and ask, "Ms. Whittenheim, do you have any cheese in there?" And she would actually pull out pepper jack? At this very moment, I have a toothbrush, toothpaste, and random receipts coated in melted ibuprofen. 

• Those people that... use caffeine as an excuse. Um, sorry I just unloaded every unfair thing that has ever happened to me in my life and wept snotty tears on your couch. I haven't had my two cups of coffee yet. 

• Those people that... drive a car until it burns into a pile of ashes. Now the idea of a car payment scares me more than being trapped in a scary alley in the rain with an engine problem. I was reminded of this when, post fender bender a few months back, the cop asked, "Did she do this to your car?" "No." "What about this?" "No." "What about this one over here?" "Um, no sir. IT'S BEEN THROUGH A LOT OKAY?"

If I have learned anything-- it is: never say never. Because as soon as you do, you will find yourself sitting in a minivan wearing elastic-waist jeans.

And loving every minute of it.

We would rather be ruined than changed;
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And let our illusions die.
~W.H. Auden