The point of this blog is about life. Random parts of teenage life that most people assume and care not to know about. About how life sucks sometimes, and how life is pretty darn good most times. How no matter what, life goes on. But today, it doesn't. Since December the 20th, life hasn't gone on. Not for one family, at least. After nineteen years of bringing up your son, the light of your life, it doesn't feel right that you should have to go through what Mr. and Mrs. Conrad are going through. On December 20th, 2009, their nineteen year old son Cody Alan passed away. It was at that moment that life stopped. He was an extremely special person, and when he passed, the world lost yet another piece of sunshine. He went in for surgery on the twentieth, because a donor match had been made. He was finally getting new lungs to help start him on a new life that was no longer filled with a long list of limitations. I believe you know the ending to this story, though. He did not make it through the operation, and ended up passing away.
We take each day in stride, stuck in our own routines, not even paying attention to our actions or surroundings. Our days blur together in a big mass of the same activities and unfulfilled promises. We don't realize that when we think "I'll do it later," later may not be possible. It upsets me to see people wasting their lives away. Especially people who have so much potential in life, and they just throw it away. It makes a difference when you're dying, when you realize that the up and down movement of your chest as you breathe will cease, the steady thump thump that pounds in your ears will quiet, the visions you see, the tastes you taste, the scents you smell, the things you touch, will all be a thing of the past. Do I believe it is the end? No, simply the phase that leads us from one beginning to another. But when a person passes from this phase, especially at nineteen when he had so much more left to experience, it hurts.
Yes, I believe death leads to heaven. I, being christian, trust God to take care of me and my soul. My funeral? I want party hats and confetti, and I want it all to be held in a stable full of horses. I want loud, happy music and the only tears will be those of joy, because I am in a better place and am a lot happier. And in my casket I want my magic fiddle, tulips and wild orange tiger lillies. Is all of that possible? More than likely not. But I'm a dreamer, and nobody ever said dreaming was a bad thing to do.
Please, for the sake of all that is sane in this world, enjoy life. I can almost guaruntee it will seem like everything that can go wrong does, and that the good stuff is so small it's hardly worth living for. We all have a little good in us, and a little bad, just like the world around us. But we have to learn how to conquer the bad and listen to the good, because the good is all that's worth living for anymore. The good is what we have to hold on to, and when that disappears, so do we. So hold on to the goodness, the happiness, the light, each other. Hold on to everything you can, but also learn to just let go of what is gone and move on. Life changes with each breath we take, so please, just keep breathing, and enjoy every second of it. A new moment in time is just another blessing that we take for granted, and it is at this time that I say, no more. Life isn't always funny or good, but with the right outlook, determination, and friends, anything is possible. Never lose hope, never lose faith. Never lose yourself.
Goodnight, world. (and all who inhabit it.) ♥
Friday, December 25, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
mail ladies, gorilla heads, and snowmen named Hubert.
Welcome, Ladies and Gents, to the winter blizzard of 2009. Live on the west coast? Here's an idea of how much snow really is here. Today I fell off of my porch, and landing in the snow was more cushioned and comfortable than jumping on my bed, foamy topper included. I didn't even hit the ground. I then proceeded to wade through the thigh-deep snow and down my hill with my neighbor and good friend Olivia. Needless to say we slipped and fell several times. Our plans that day included making a giant gorilla head and a giant snowman. But first, the background stories.
Once upon a time, some winter about a year ago, Olivia and I were bored. Two bored teenagers, yes. Surprise surprise. School was called off, and life was good. We bundled up in our snuggly snow clothes and headed out into the cold yonder, prepared for whatever it was the day had in store. I made a snowball, as was expected. However, instead of throwing it at Olivia's perfectly exposed neck, I made it larger. I rolled it down the massive hill upon which I live. It got even larger. I rolled it back up my hill and down my driveway. It was now up to my knees. Olivia noticed these peculiar ongoings and proceeded to assist me in my ridiculous endeavors. We continued to roll the snowball down the road of our housing development until we reached our mutual friend Dean's house. We called to him and his sister Shelby to come and help us roll said snowball, which was now up to our hips. It was actually now a large ball of ice, which is a lot heavier than snow. Now excited about the quickly forming snowman butt, the four of us struggled to roll it back to a clear spot that was conveniently located at the bottom of my driveway. We made it about twenty five yards away when we had to stop. The spot we were in was actually where the road curved around the side of my hill, and our large hunk of ice rolled into my ditch. Because of its mass and general hugeness, we sort of decided to keep it there. We then made a stomach and head that were comparitively smaller, stuck a tobagan and two sticks on it, shoved some gravel in it's face, and called it "Hubert". It was the most beautiful snowman I had ever seen. It seriously took four weeks for Hubert to melt completely. It was a sad day for us all.
This year, whilst plowing around our mailbox, our neighbor (Olivia's father, coincidentally) hit our mailbox and promptly broke the edge of it. It's plastic, so breaking it really wasn't that hard. This is the second mailbox we've gone through since I was fourteen. How can I remember this? Because I killed the first one! My intentions were not malicious. I was simply learning to drive and smacked our mailbox with the bed of the truck I was in. Fun times. My sister then bought us a new mailbox for my stepdad's birthday, and even put shiny red letters on it to distract me and make me see it so that I would remember to check the mail after school every day. The only issue we had had with it thusfar was when my mother sprayed it with varnish instead of spider killer and turned half of the black plastic white....
Anyway, this morning our mailbox was again destroyed. Olivia's father, who I will call "Bill" simply to protect his identity so he doesn't make you wary if he is ever around your mailbox, hit it and broke the edge of it. When my mother closed the lid after inserting mail to be sent, the whole thing just kind of fell off of the wooden post and hit the icy ground with a *thud*. (onomatopoeia! i love those. I also love that I just spelled that correctly without looking it up.)
Taking advantage of the barren wooden post with the convenient little ledge upon which to set something (like a mailbox or perhaps a large gorilla head) I proceeded to pack a large snowball, then shape it into the shape of a (go ahead, guess) gorilla head. (good job, you got it!) Yes, I do like insterting little apostrophes into parentheses in the middle of my random discussions about mailboxes and gorilla heads. I then placed said gorilla head on the said ledge of the said wooden post and went back into my house to make some bacon. I later saw the mail lady give my piece of snow artwork an odd look that made my day just a little bit brighter. Now we have a new mailbox that "Bill" bought us out of kindness and expected responsibility for the murder of our mailbox in cold blood. Well, everything was cold. So responsibility for the murder of our mailbox in general coldness. I removed the gorilla head before my stepdad returned home to replace the mailbox, for which a vigil will be held at some point soon. Just about anyone can have a pet graveyard in their yard, but how many people have a mailbox graveyard? Yep, we're special.
Our plans in a Hubert Jr. failed, but the pain was eased by the gorilla, who I will now name Fiona. Though these stories will probably have no effect on your life and probably just wasted the last five minutes of it, I hope it made you smile.
My general point with this blog is to take the crazy random happenstances of every day life and make any situation funny, so that we may see that life is an adventure and is to be treated as such. So whoever you are, out there reading this, enjoy life. Laugh and smile whenever you can. When you're snowed in your home and are going crazy with cabin fever, make a big gorilla head and creep the bejeebies out of your mail person. Be inventive, be creative, be inspired by what is around you, and live each moment as much as you can. After all, you have to have stories to tell. Disney fairytales are nice, but real life ones are so much better. So now I say goodnight to the world, and all of you wonderful people who inhabit it. ♥
-Shaemazing.(:
Once upon a time, some winter about a year ago, Olivia and I were bored. Two bored teenagers, yes. Surprise surprise. School was called off, and life was good. We bundled up in our snuggly snow clothes and headed out into the cold yonder, prepared for whatever it was the day had in store. I made a snowball, as was expected. However, instead of throwing it at Olivia's perfectly exposed neck, I made it larger. I rolled it down the massive hill upon which I live. It got even larger. I rolled it back up my hill and down my driveway. It was now up to my knees. Olivia noticed these peculiar ongoings and proceeded to assist me in my ridiculous endeavors. We continued to roll the snowball down the road of our housing development until we reached our mutual friend Dean's house. We called to him and his sister Shelby to come and help us roll said snowball, which was now up to our hips. It was actually now a large ball of ice, which is a lot heavier than snow. Now excited about the quickly forming snowman butt, the four of us struggled to roll it back to a clear spot that was conveniently located at the bottom of my driveway. We made it about twenty five yards away when we had to stop. The spot we were in was actually where the road curved around the side of my hill, and our large hunk of ice rolled into my ditch. Because of its mass and general hugeness, we sort of decided to keep it there. We then made a stomach and head that were comparitively smaller, stuck a tobagan and two sticks on it, shoved some gravel in it's face, and called it "Hubert". It was the most beautiful snowman I had ever seen. It seriously took four weeks for Hubert to melt completely. It was a sad day for us all.
This year, whilst plowing around our mailbox, our neighbor (Olivia's father, coincidentally) hit our mailbox and promptly broke the edge of it. It's plastic, so breaking it really wasn't that hard. This is the second mailbox we've gone through since I was fourteen. How can I remember this? Because I killed the first one! My intentions were not malicious. I was simply learning to drive and smacked our mailbox with the bed of the truck I was in. Fun times. My sister then bought us a new mailbox for my stepdad's birthday, and even put shiny red letters on it to distract me and make me see it so that I would remember to check the mail after school every day. The only issue we had had with it thusfar was when my mother sprayed it with varnish instead of spider killer and turned half of the black plastic white....
Anyway, this morning our mailbox was again destroyed. Olivia's father, who I will call "Bill" simply to protect his identity so he doesn't make you wary if he is ever around your mailbox, hit it and broke the edge of it. When my mother closed the lid after inserting mail to be sent, the whole thing just kind of fell off of the wooden post and hit the icy ground with a *thud*. (onomatopoeia! i love those. I also love that I just spelled that correctly without looking it up.)
Taking advantage of the barren wooden post with the convenient little ledge upon which to set something (like a mailbox or perhaps a large gorilla head) I proceeded to pack a large snowball, then shape it into the shape of a (go ahead, guess) gorilla head. (good job, you got it!) Yes, I do like insterting little apostrophes into parentheses in the middle of my random discussions about mailboxes and gorilla heads. I then placed said gorilla head on the said ledge of the said wooden post and went back into my house to make some bacon. I later saw the mail lady give my piece of snow artwork an odd look that made my day just a little bit brighter. Now we have a new mailbox that "Bill" bought us out of kindness and expected responsibility for the murder of our mailbox in cold blood. Well, everything was cold. So responsibility for the murder of our mailbox in general coldness. I removed the gorilla head before my stepdad returned home to replace the mailbox, for which a vigil will be held at some point soon. Just about anyone can have a pet graveyard in their yard, but how many people have a mailbox graveyard? Yep, we're special.
Our plans in a Hubert Jr. failed, but the pain was eased by the gorilla, who I will now name Fiona. Though these stories will probably have no effect on your life and probably just wasted the last five minutes of it, I hope it made you smile.
My general point with this blog is to take the crazy random happenstances of every day life and make any situation funny, so that we may see that life is an adventure and is to be treated as such. So whoever you are, out there reading this, enjoy life. Laugh and smile whenever you can. When you're snowed in your home and are going crazy with cabin fever, make a big gorilla head and creep the bejeebies out of your mail person. Be inventive, be creative, be inspired by what is around you, and live each moment as much as you can. After all, you have to have stories to tell. Disney fairytales are nice, but real life ones are so much better. So now I say goodnight to the world, and all of you wonderful people who inhabit it. ♥
-Shaemazing.(:
Thursday, December 17, 2009
in all seriousness
No information on Wal-Mart stalkers today. No laughs, no reports on the daily antics and dramas that seem to delve into a teenager's life and infest it with the sickly humorous twists that seem to inevitably find their way in. A short moment of seriousness has happened upon me, so either read on or go find another blog that will make you laugh for a moment, while I get this out there. Still reading? Good, glad to see there is still some hope left for thoughtfulness in this crazy world.
Why do we is one of the most commonly asked questiones known to mankind. Why do we love, hate, hurt, laugh, cry, write, sing, get angry, get jealous, make the decisions we do, make mistakes, yell, whisper, run from what scares us, etc. You get the point. I'm not sure, maybe we can blame it on human nature. Maybe not. Maybe we can blame it on the uniform "individuality" that keeps us all feeling special when really we are not so difficult and different. Are we all the same? Of course not, but I think the feeling of uniqueness is heightened beyond neccessity and therefore instills a certain air of superiority and speciality within ourselves that we find consciously invigorating and therein we discover ourselves to be useful to the bleak and dismal world that we try so hard to save with just ourselves, being different. Being the same. All the same by all being different. It is the one quality we have in common. Our uniqueness is what brings us together. Our quirks, our specialties, our, whatevers. They are what mark us as who we are, they help us form each step into the next day of our life. What we do is uniform to us as individuals, it marks us in a way that only we can see, and others only if we so carefully choose to share it with the world. Why not? Why do we keep these certain qualities hidden beneath layers of qualities that are not our own. If you adore art, why go to school and major in mathematics? If you love to help people, why stick yourself in a cubicle day after day? Why dress one way or get your haircut another if you hate it all? If you have a knack with numbers, why in the world would you ever try to do something that is just pale in comparison? Because that's what is expected of you. You would get ridiculed or critisized otherwise. We are individuals, as long as its not so incredibly different that we seem "weird" or "just plain crazy". We depend on our individuality to bring color to the world we live in, to bring our lives color and splendor and make ourselves and those around us feel as if there is hope in even the darkest situations. We do what we do because that is what is expected, either by us or by someone else. That decision is also a characteristic that is not uniform within our society, no matter how simple the answer seems to be. In short, we are who we are and because of that we do what we do. No more, no less. It is as simple as that, and yet we still constantly question because we are not satisfied with something so simple. But it is. Rise above and beyond what is expected of you and by you, and you will live. Be the person you want yourself and others to remember. Life is short. Make decisions, make mistakes. If you fail, then at least you had fun trying.
Off to get a haircut now. I wonder what I'll have done. The answer? Whatever in the heck I want.
Have a lovely day.
-Shae(:
Why do we is one of the most commonly asked questiones known to mankind. Why do we love, hate, hurt, laugh, cry, write, sing, get angry, get jealous, make the decisions we do, make mistakes, yell, whisper, run from what scares us, etc. You get the point. I'm not sure, maybe we can blame it on human nature. Maybe not. Maybe we can blame it on the uniform "individuality" that keeps us all feeling special when really we are not so difficult and different. Are we all the same? Of course not, but I think the feeling of uniqueness is heightened beyond neccessity and therefore instills a certain air of superiority and speciality within ourselves that we find consciously invigorating and therein we discover ourselves to be useful to the bleak and dismal world that we try so hard to save with just ourselves, being different. Being the same. All the same by all being different. It is the one quality we have in common. Our uniqueness is what brings us together. Our quirks, our specialties, our, whatevers. They are what mark us as who we are, they help us form each step into the next day of our life. What we do is uniform to us as individuals, it marks us in a way that only we can see, and others only if we so carefully choose to share it with the world. Why not? Why do we keep these certain qualities hidden beneath layers of qualities that are not our own. If you adore art, why go to school and major in mathematics? If you love to help people, why stick yourself in a cubicle day after day? Why dress one way or get your haircut another if you hate it all? If you have a knack with numbers, why in the world would you ever try to do something that is just pale in comparison? Because that's what is expected of you. You would get ridiculed or critisized otherwise. We are individuals, as long as its not so incredibly different that we seem "weird" or "just plain crazy". We depend on our individuality to bring color to the world we live in, to bring our lives color and splendor and make ourselves and those around us feel as if there is hope in even the darkest situations. We do what we do because that is what is expected, either by us or by someone else. That decision is also a characteristic that is not uniform within our society, no matter how simple the answer seems to be. In short, we are who we are and because of that we do what we do. No more, no less. It is as simple as that, and yet we still constantly question because we are not satisfied with something so simple. But it is. Rise above and beyond what is expected of you and by you, and you will live. Be the person you want yourself and others to remember. Life is short. Make decisions, make mistakes. If you fail, then at least you had fun trying.
Off to get a haircut now. I wonder what I'll have done. The answer? Whatever in the heck I want.
Have a lovely day.
-Shae(:
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Wal-Mart Revisted
Ah, Facebook. To many, utterly pointless and irrelevant. To others like myself, an addiction. In the case of my previously mentioned Wal-Mart stalker clerk man person, he is grouped in the latter category. Great. Has he added me? No. Thank goodness he doesn't know my name. He added a friend of mine, and the notification saying so made sure to make his picture pop up big and smiley on my screen. I'm twenty minutes away from that store and he is still staring at me. Though if he types "female minor that looks good in purple" into the people finder I doubt he will get any effective results. I actually had to stop at Wal-Mart the other night, since my most recently occupado canvases needed frames. Speaking of which, they need to make special frames to hold canvases. They probably do, I was just too distracted hiding from Stalker Man to pay too much attention. On the upside, he was nowhere to be found and I finally got my sugar free Rockstar. Which is now hiding from my mother underneath my sketch of Pocahontas and John Smith. Yes, my life is obviously exciting. (side note to my "other" - don't tell mom. she doesn't like the influx of guarana)
The snow is beginning to depress me. I'm not allowed to drive in it, because apparently I'm going to run myself into a ditch somewhere because I don't know how to drive. The fact that I've driven in bad weather before and even the best drivers run themselves into ditches after years of experience (for example, my mother) seems to have no effect on the situation. Do I understand her reasoning? Yes. Am I just being a pouty teenager that wanted to go to that kid's birthday party just fifteen minutes away? Definitely. But I have a verifiable point to some degree. How am I gonna rack up experience if I don't get out there and do it? I have no clue. I just know it had better not snow tomorrow. Apparently I'm going to be part of a band and our first meeting is tomorrow. I named us though ("Pushing Up Daises" - morbid for the three boys and cutesy for the two girls) and even made cover art for us. Yay for a headstart on a graphic design career.
I'm also skipping out on my little step sisters Christmas play performance tomorrow. I'm probably a horrible stepsister for this, and I feel bad, but she is one of two children in the play, the rest are adults. I mean, really? And she plays a little blind girl that probably walks around saying "Jesus I'm blind, come and heal me," and then she stumbles around until she smacks into a cardboard tree and knocks it over, at which point the forty year old man named Nelson who probably lives in the basement of his God fearing mother's house comes out in a white bath robe and says "Woman! You are healed in the name of the Lord!" And she can see, and all is well with the world. Yay. Such a happy ending. No, I'm actually kidding, it will probably be a much nicer production than that, and Jesus probably has a much less laughable name. However, that was an entertaining little mental image was it not? Either way, I will take her to DQ next time she visits us, and she'll be happy. Winning her over isn't hard, she is so nice and I'm actually quite lucky to have her as a little stepsister. Hence my nonexistant reluctance at taking her to DQ. Is she a few bricks shy of a load? Sometimes, but not always. Decent school grades I think. I did teach her, however, that Latin is not the main language spoken in Spain. And that Saint Louis is in Missouri. Fun times. Ah well, we all have our moments. And right now, this moment is telling me it is time to sleep and pray for sunshine. Have a good day, and goodbye for now ♥
The snow is beginning to depress me. I'm not allowed to drive in it, because apparently I'm going to run myself into a ditch somewhere because I don't know how to drive. The fact that I've driven in bad weather before and even the best drivers run themselves into ditches after years of experience (for example, my mother) seems to have no effect on the situation. Do I understand her reasoning? Yes. Am I just being a pouty teenager that wanted to go to that kid's birthday party just fifteen minutes away? Definitely. But I have a verifiable point to some degree. How am I gonna rack up experience if I don't get out there and do it? I have no clue. I just know it had better not snow tomorrow. Apparently I'm going to be part of a band and our first meeting is tomorrow. I named us though ("Pushing Up Daises" - morbid for the three boys and cutesy for the two girls) and even made cover art for us. Yay for a headstart on a graphic design career.
I'm also skipping out on my little step sisters Christmas play performance tomorrow. I'm probably a horrible stepsister for this, and I feel bad, but she is one of two children in the play, the rest are adults. I mean, really? And she plays a little blind girl that probably walks around saying "Jesus I'm blind, come and heal me," and then she stumbles around until she smacks into a cardboard tree and knocks it over, at which point the forty year old man named Nelson who probably lives in the basement of his God fearing mother's house comes out in a white bath robe and says "Woman! You are healed in the name of the Lord!" And she can see, and all is well with the world. Yay. Such a happy ending. No, I'm actually kidding, it will probably be a much nicer production than that, and Jesus probably has a much less laughable name. However, that was an entertaining little mental image was it not? Either way, I will take her to DQ next time she visits us, and she'll be happy. Winning her over isn't hard, she is so nice and I'm actually quite lucky to have her as a little stepsister. Hence my nonexistant reluctance at taking her to DQ. Is she a few bricks shy of a load? Sometimes, but not always. Decent school grades I think. I did teach her, however, that Latin is not the main language spoken in Spain. And that Saint Louis is in Missouri. Fun times. Ah well, we all have our moments. And right now, this moment is telling me it is time to sleep and pray for sunshine. Have a good day, and goodbye for now ♥
Friday, November 27, 2009
Thanksgiving Afterthoughts.
Turkey Day has once again come to an end, leaving people full of happiness, tiredness, and turkey. Lots and lots of turkey. Family members have been visted, friends appreciated, lost loved ones remembered. It is at this time that we realize for once that the world does not revolve soley around us, but around the sun. And, more personally, our lives revolve ultimately around other people.
Social interactions are the core of all human relationships, and human relationships tie directly into the mood, tendancies, nature, and overall being of each individual. We, as humans, are very social creatures and we thrive on the interaction that keeps us moving on a day to day basis. Though we feel that our successes in life are based mostly on ourselves and our own accomplishments, you have to think that those accomplishments could not have been made, encouraged, or recognized without other people. Our happiness is based on good friendships, good family bonds, good relationships, and a tolerable work space with tolerable co-workers.
And yet for 364 days out of the year, all we usually think about is us. Why our day was bad, why that loser on the third floor got the promotion you wanted, why you had to be last in line on Black Friday and missed all of the deals, why you had to be rear-ended by that idiot who had been drinking too much, why you have to fix dinner all the time when there are so many other capable hands at the ready. And so on and so forth. We aren't concerned about other peoples' days, or happy for the guy who probably just worked as hard for that promotion, happy that you aren't crazy enough to line up at midnight when the store doesn't open until 5 that morning, happy that no other innocent people were injured in the accident, or even just glad to have food to fix.
We are all so used to living a life that is about us and our accomplishments that we tend to forget that those around us are actually what get us where we are and keep us going. Is life always perfect? No, it was never promised to be. I can guaruntee that it will seem like life sucks a lot more than it doesn't. But keep your head held high to keep you happy, and a hand held low to pick up those alone, and on the ground. Life isn't always beautiful, but it's sure to be one heck of an interesting ride.
So Happy Belated Thanksgiving, folks.
(p.s. You don't have to wait until Thanksgiving rolls around to show other people you appreciate them. People tend to like that. Remember that, especially if you really are into that whole "karma" deal.)
Social interactions are the core of all human relationships, and human relationships tie directly into the mood, tendancies, nature, and overall being of each individual. We, as humans, are very social creatures and we thrive on the interaction that keeps us moving on a day to day basis. Though we feel that our successes in life are based mostly on ourselves and our own accomplishments, you have to think that those accomplishments could not have been made, encouraged, or recognized without other people. Our happiness is based on good friendships, good family bonds, good relationships, and a tolerable work space with tolerable co-workers.
And yet for 364 days out of the year, all we usually think about is us. Why our day was bad, why that loser on the third floor got the promotion you wanted, why you had to be last in line on Black Friday and missed all of the deals, why you had to be rear-ended by that idiot who had been drinking too much, why you have to fix dinner all the time when there are so many other capable hands at the ready. And so on and so forth. We aren't concerned about other peoples' days, or happy for the guy who probably just worked as hard for that promotion, happy that you aren't crazy enough to line up at midnight when the store doesn't open until 5 that morning, happy that no other innocent people were injured in the accident, or even just glad to have food to fix.
We are all so used to living a life that is about us and our accomplishments that we tend to forget that those around us are actually what get us where we are and keep us going. Is life always perfect? No, it was never promised to be. I can guaruntee that it will seem like life sucks a lot more than it doesn't. But keep your head held high to keep you happy, and a hand held low to pick up those alone, and on the ground. Life isn't always beautiful, but it's sure to be one heck of an interesting ride.
So Happy Belated Thanksgiving, folks.
(p.s. You don't have to wait until Thanksgiving rolls around to show other people you appreciate them. People tend to like that. Remember that, especially if you really are into that whole "karma" deal.)
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The Joys of Furniture Shopping
First, a Happy Thanksgiving to you all. And for those less traditional, a Happy Deer Season. I hope you are all enjoying the holidays by relaxing, however it is that you do that. Some people go on vacation, some people go to visit family, and, for those who find themselves with a long list of home improvements just waiting to be attended to, furniture shopping.
I'm not sure about you, but when I think "furniture shopping" the first thing that comes to mind just so happens to be sales people. For example: you walk in, maybe sit down in a few chairs. You like a couple, but they aren't really what you're looking for. A salesman finds you, and wishes oh-so-fervently to help you in your quest.
Enter salesman: "Hello, ma'am. Might I ask what you're looking for today?"
Customer: "Well, sure. I would like a chair, but NOT a recliner. Maybe an overstuffed chair, one you can sink into so much it pretty much eats you alive."
Salesman: (with an overly enthusiastic smile/tone of voice):"Well I believe I can help you with that. Come with me and I will show you a few recliners that we have that I'm sure you'll just love."
Okay, now stop. Re-read that last part. Did the customer not just specify the fact that she did NOT want a recliner? I even used CAPS, which implies that I really mean what I'm saying here. Then they hover over you as you make your decision, making you want to pick up that coffee table over there and just ...
But I digress. One day and three or four furniture stores later, (I lost count after about the sixty second chair) we decide what we want. It is at that point that our sales lady (who didn't hover too badly until we went and looked at dining room tables) left to get hot fudge cake. While her on-duty priorities are obviously questionable, I cannot blame her much. If I had to chose between selling furniture and going for hot fudge cake, I would have left, too. So there you are, folks. When it comes to furniture shopping, I heard online site-to-store isn't that bad. May you have a happy and stress-free holiday season. (Yeah, right. I know. But it's worth a shot.)
~Ta ta for now~
I'm not sure about you, but when I think "furniture shopping" the first thing that comes to mind just so happens to be sales people. For example: you walk in, maybe sit down in a few chairs. You like a couple, but they aren't really what you're looking for. A salesman finds you, and wishes oh-so-fervently to help you in your quest.
Enter salesman: "Hello, ma'am. Might I ask what you're looking for today?"
Customer: "Well, sure. I would like a chair, but NOT a recliner. Maybe an overstuffed chair, one you can sink into so much it pretty much eats you alive."
Salesman: (with an overly enthusiastic smile/tone of voice):"Well I believe I can help you with that. Come with me and I will show you a few recliners that we have that I'm sure you'll just love."
Okay, now stop. Re-read that last part. Did the customer not just specify the fact that she did NOT want a recliner? I even used CAPS, which implies that I really mean what I'm saying here. Then they hover over you as you make your decision, making you want to pick up that coffee table over there and just ...
But I digress. One day and three or four furniture stores later, (I lost count after about the sixty second chair) we decide what we want. It is at that point that our sales lady (who didn't hover too badly until we went and looked at dining room tables) left to get hot fudge cake. While her on-duty priorities are obviously questionable, I cannot blame her much. If I had to chose between selling furniture and going for hot fudge cake, I would have left, too. So there you are, folks. When it comes to furniture shopping, I heard online site-to-store isn't that bad. May you have a happy and stress-free holiday season. (Yeah, right. I know. But it's worth a shot.)
~Ta ta for now~
Friday, November 6, 2009
Wal-Mart Stalkers aren't fun.
Some people can be idiots. While stuck at a red light (ironic to those in my AP class) driving to Wal-Mart, this truck comes up behind me and gets way to close to my bumper, and one of the guys starts doing this whole, "Oh hey I'm going to start waving and make stupid cellphone gestures with my hand in hopes of grabbing your teenage attention even though I'm about 55 years old!" thing. Freaking annoying. They tailgated me into Wal-Mart, and I zig-zagged around the parking lot until I lost them and then went home the long way. The nerve of some people. That completely crushed my hopes of a sugar free Rockstar to perk up my day. Those people should be informed that they not only tried to pretty much tailgate and attack a minor, but they also deprived her of a sugar free Rockstar. Shouldn't that be illegal? I guess it saved me from the creepy cashier who always talks to me and follows me around the store, and makes sure that I "check out at his cash register." I really hope he means that literally and not...well you know. At least there is going to be Subway for dinner. Subway with a nice, warm bed should fix my day. Wait, my Mother dearest did laundry and took the sheets off my bed. Great. I'm now off to complete unfinished chores as I grumble about just about anything that comes to mind. There had better be Subway for dinner.
-Goodbye for now ♥ -
-Goodbye for now ♥ -
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
