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Problems Sister and Stella-Rondo Never Had

26 Mar

I would like to take this day behind the barn and dispatch with it swiftly. I had to go to the post office. TWO post offices (posts office?), in fact. The first one was to pick up a package.

See, what had happened was I wasn’t wearing pants and I was on the phone with my bank. As one does. I couldn’t get to the door in time and didn’t get my package. My lovely postman rang several times because he’s obviously been there before and knows I’m often wiping Nutella off my face before I answer the door. Now, my friend Desi was a bit stumped at this because don’t all Southern ladies have bathrobes? Well, yeah, I reckon. But that never occurred to me, honestly.  Probably because my bank was calling to verify two very legitimate charges, which I appreciated since last year I had THREE different debit cards due to security breeches. Note to self, find another bank. Anyway, I was so stunned that they were actually like monitoring stuff that all I could do was kind of freeze in place, my phone in one hand, and my precious cargo being loaded back up and taken away.

Taken away to the depths of the Mendenhall Post Office. Where it could not be found. So. That should have been a sign, BUT OH NO! Did I heed said sign? No. No, I did not. For I am an idiot of the highest caliber. For various reasons, I needed a mailbox. So I’d gotten one online at a post office location that I preferred. I printed out everything the site told me, got all my ID (strangely, no one accepts one’s belly button as proof of birth), and trekked to Southern Avenue. BIG mistake. Let me just cut to the chase. By the time I got back in my car, I had no post office box and I was in tears.

By Billy Hathorn (National Portrait Gallery, public domain.) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons

Me. IN TEARS.

This is why EVERYTHING at the post office should be done by machines. Machines do not tell you things like it does not have to do what the website says. Machines do not tell you, “Y’all just don’t know. Y’all don’t know how to fill out a form. Y’all can’t come in here with stuff ain’t doing you no good.” This woman was the most heinous individual I have ever encountered, and I once got stuck in a KKK rally in Brandon, Mississippi. Truth. So I went and finished my errands, got home, canceled my mailbox online, and wrote a complaint that was, as my friend Dean says, pointed yet poignant. I know USPS doesn’t care.  I know nothing will be said to this woman, and even if it were, it wouldn’t matter. Some people are just toxic.

Over the years, I interviewed many people for many jobs, most of which dealt with the public in some form. There are a few guidelines I had when interviewing candidates.

  1.  Did the person smile? You honestly have NO IDEA how many people go into an interview for a customer service job and never smile. WHY would I want you as the face of my business? FAKE IT! If you aren’t looking at me like I’m Gary Collins and you’re Miss Alabama, this ain’t working.
  2. “The customer is always right” is a phrase that will NEVER get you hired. One, the customer is rarely right. Two, it doesn’t matter. Three, put a little elbow into your answers. Don’t give me trite crap I know isn’t true. Such as
  3. “I’m a people person.” Here’s who says that. People who hate people. I’m a people person. Never said I like people. Now, unless you truly are like Frankenstein’s monster and are MADE OF PEOPLE, leave that shit at home.
  4. “I love helping people.” Go work for Red Cross. We’re here to make money. People who say they love helping people are the ones who get busted shoveling extra bras into their friends’ shopping bags.
  5. “I’d just love to play in clothes/shoes/makeup/tablecloths/small appliances all day.” This ain’t Ronald’s playground. I’m paying you to work. If you happen to like it, great, but it’s NOT play. Unless you are telling me that you play the tuba in your spare time (which you fully understand will be nonexistent if you take this job), “play” should not be used in an interview.
  6. A customer service job is not the place to take out your revenge on the world. The customer is not your enemy, no matter what you may feel, think, and what your loss prevention manager tells you. If you’re telling me nothing but horror stories about service, I’m going to start to think YOU’RE the problem.
  7. A smooth transaction can change a person’s day. This is the honest to God truth. You can be having the worst day ever. Run in your hose. Zayn left One Direction. There’s a black fly in your chardonnay. But one joke from the woman at Freds about how those select-a-size towels probably have a Napoleon complex, and it looks a lot better.
  8. A terrible transaction can change a person’s day. This is the honest to God truth. You can be having the best day ever. You don’t have to wear pants. Black Sabbath decide to play your favorite neighborhood bar. Someone gives you something besides chardonnay. But one “I don’t have to do ANYTHING the website says,” and you are suspended between hopelessness and rage to the extant you both clutch your pearls AND say screw everything, go to Taco Bell, and binge on Netflix and remorse the rest of the day. Because
  9. PEOPLE SUCK. We all suck. We’re all egotistical, shallow, self-aggrandizing assholes. You know why Ghandi was a pacifist? He never had to stand on line at the DMV. He never had a toddler who decided to eat nothing but Gummi Bears for two weeks straight only to suddenly THROW A FIT AND FALL INTO IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WINN-DIXIE because HOW DARE YOU??? Did you not intuit that three seconds ago your toddler decided to HATE Gummi Bears and now only wants hot dogs with ketchup, in a bun, but the crust taken off, served on the YELLOW PLATE while you sing “The Bing Bong Song” from Peppa Pig???!!!

I know there isn’t anything nearly as trite as complaining about a government agency, but cliches are cliches because they’ve happened enough to be cliche. People with absolutely no power anywhere else in life will always try to create a superpower at work. When there are no consequences for actions, people do what we do. We act like jerks. I did cancel my order, I did write a complaint, and I know that nothing will change because I am the only one in this situation who was inconvenienced. No one else has a stake. It’s the post office, where else am I going to go? So I go get a mail drop. Still the USPS. What the woman wanted, she got. She wanted to tell someone no. She wanted to know–or act as if she knew–more than someone else because she has absolutely no power. People who throw fits and fall in them are no different from that toddler. And when we do that, we’re telling the other person, “YOU are responsible for my behavior,” rather than taking responsibility ourselves. Unfortunately, this woman today exercised her no-power with me. I don’t show emotion with this kind of deal. I don’t get loud. In fact, I get like Alec Baldwin quiet. I speak very distinctly. I ask how we’re going to fix this. Most of the time, it works and we all move on. Today? Not so much. Not only did we not fix the problem, she didn’t get to see me get upset. So we both lost.

Also? That package was missing two items.

In short, I hate everything. But you knew that.

Sweetness And Light

6 Mar

A few days ago I told my nephew I was going to change it up a bit with the blog. I decided to write about something I loved rather than document rampant asshattery. BUT THAT SAME DAY, as if The Universe was in a particularly jokey mood, Ben Carson informed me that prison turns people gay. So. He’s pulling back a bit now because hopefully someone he loves smacked him upside the head, BUT he’s not going to address “gay issues” anymore. This presidential candidate. In 2015. Won’t be talking LGBT rights. 

Yeah.

But whatever. I don’t have time for him because I’m still busy castigating my husband because he thought that dress was white. And there’s four inches of ice and snow in my yard and we’re still in danger of waking up speaking Russian and ISIS is destroying an entire culture and someone knifed our ambassador to South Korea and some moron thought a water taxi from Mud Island to Bass Pro Pyramid was a good idea and…

There’s this polar bear.

Memphis Zoo has a daddy polar bear named Payton. He’s from the Chicago area originally and, you know, a polar bear, so he’s not so much born for Memphis weather. The zoo was closed yesterday, but posted a video of Payton hanging out in the snow. LIKE A BOSS.

Payton is named for Walter Payton, also a Chicago Bear. Much like watching his namesake on the field back in the day, Payton will give you joy. That video? Fifty-two seconds of unadulterated bliss. My goal in life is to be as content as that bear. My parents were here for a couple of days and we’ve all watched that video a million times. It’s bookmarked so when we have a crappy day, we can go straight to Payton. If reincarnation is for real, I want to come back as that polar bear at that moment. Either that or one of Martha Stewart’s chow chows. Those dogs have it made.

I’ve just been getting zen with Sweetness for a few minutes because I looked in the mirror. It was either Payton The Polar Bear or Jim Beam The Bourbon. Sweet Gussie, I’m getting old. Natural light is not my friend. Not. My. Friend. Because I don’t get out much, I have, um…I’m not…I don’t dress…I look like hammered snot all the time. Okay, are you happy? I said it. My name is Susan and I haven’t worn pants with a zipper since mid-2013. Bra? Yeah, I used to sell them. I have drawers full of them. They are full because they are not on my body. Makeup? Used to sell that too. I just threw out some Chanel eyeshadow that I know had to be at least 11 years old. It hurt my soul to do it, but one should not keep makeup as one keeps wine.

I decided a few weeks ago, as I’m looking to join the ranks of the employed before I’m legally able to draw Social Security, that I need to start getting dressed, putting on some makeup, not terrifying my husband when he comes home because I look like that girl from The Ring had a baby with Jonathan Winters. I need to start training, as it were. Now, here’s the thing. My friend Brandee used to make fun of me at lunch because after eating, I would line my lips, fill in with my base lipstick, then finish with a gloss or glaze. The process took a minute or two. Now? Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers are about the extent of my makeup wardrobe. Except for concealer. And you can pry my concealer from my cold, dead under-eye circles. I decided to do the makeup thing right and get what I wanted rather than what would make do. The foundation I got is a new formula from an old brand. I’d read good things about it and have always had luck with this particular line. So I ordered it in the color I wore the last time I bought that brand.

foundation

 As I said, I don’t get out much. But I soldiered on. I can make it work. It’s just too much drama to return it. So I did. I made it work. And I got this eyeliner that I’ve always loved. Some new mascara, because nothing breeds bacteria like old cheese and mascara. A lipstick or two. I put on my face Wednesday. And The Chuck came home and kept looking at me all

Not used to seeing me with makeup, he says. If you have known me for more than a few years, you know this is about the second to last thing anyone would ever say to me. Second to, “I think your exercise regime is too strenuous,” which is tied with, “You need to add more cheese to your diet.” I didn’t overdo the makeup, but I felt conspicuous. I felt I looked like this

sparkle

The truth was I really looked like this

realActually, now that I see the picture, I look a little washed out. But the point is, I do not look like a Vegas drag queen stripper after a bender.

And you know what? I don’t care that all anyone talked about this week was llamas and dresses and thank God Carson got off his duff and asked Mrs. Hughes The Question. You know why? I’ll tell you. We have a potential presidential candidate who believes you can convert to Gayism like you can convert a .doc to a .pdf and Alabama wants it to be okay for a Baptist not to perform a wedding ceremony for a Hindu couple. So, yes, while you read this 792 people died of toenail fungus, 201 sloths were forcibly declawed, 903,820 adult humans were denied the right to protest gravity in court, and my neighbor didn’t take his poop bag when he walked his dog.

We need a break, is what I’m saying.

Better With Llamas

26 Feb
  1. xanax for dinnerThrow Llama From The Train
  2. The Boy In The Striped Llama
  3. Llama Turner
  4. The Devil Wears Llama
  5. Sex, Lies, And Llama
  6. The Forsyte Llama
  7. Llama And Child Reunion
  8. Osama Bin Llama
  9. Wilbur Vanderllama
  10. Baby llama drama
  11. Hakuna mallama
  12. Llama Chameleon
  13. Oxford llama
  14. That’s My Llama
  15. I Remember Llama
  16. Llama, I just killed a man…
  17. Hats

 

The Ways Of Satin

19 Feb

satin

That silky, silky Satin. He will so vivid you to his lies. Satin will wrap you in luxurious sin. Satin knows. Satin doesn’t ask silly questions. Satin understands.  We all know wedded gays will take you down the path to Satin. In satin. It’s like a never-ending spiral of silkiness.  According to a site called Charismanews.com, Bell, a pastor, talked to Oprah about his new book co-written with his wife Kristen, The Zimzum of Love: A New Way of Understanding Marriage, about his feeling that Christianity is–commence pearl-clutching–evolving:

Explaining to Oprah why they included “gay marriage” in their book, Rob said, “One of the oldest aches in the bones of humanity is loneliness. Loneliness is not good for the world. Whoever you are, gay or straight, it is totally normal, natural and healthy to want someone to go through life with. It’s central to our humanity. We want someone to go on the journey with.”

The site continues with, “…what the Bells want to do is take God’s very specific, beautiful blueprint, and radically redesign it in the name of ‘love.'”

DOUBLE PEARL CLUTCH!!!

How DARE Christians redesign a social construct to fit with a modern definition of another social construct??!!

GET THEE BEHIND ME, SATIN! I CAST THEE OUT AND RENOUNCE ALL MY SATIN DRAWERS FOR ALL-COTTON BECAUSE LET’S FACE IT, THEY’RE MORE COMFORTABLE ANYWAY!

Just for kicks and giggles, read what this site has to say about the Franklin, Tennessee megachurch pastor Stan Mitchell who decided to take that whole love thy neighbor thing seriously and “allow” them gays to hold offices in the church and marry their homo selves there too.

Mitchell told his congregation—a congregation that includes superstar singer-songwriter Carrie Underwood—that practicing homosexuals can be card-carrying members of his Bible-believing protestant church and can even hold their gay weddings in the sanctuary.

Forget gay marriageNow, here’s where Pastor Stan (You know he makes them call him that. You know it.) and I part company. If you are a practicing homosexual, you’ve got no business being married. Until you turn pro, you just can’t make that kind of commitment. Practice makes perfect. Also? I want to see these membership cards. Is there a secret handshake? I love a secret handshake.

But that’s not the point. The point is DO NOT FALL FOR SATIN’S TRICKS OR YOU WILL SOON BE MARRYING A HOMOSEXICAL!

Image

Yup

17 Feb

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You Proved Me Wrong

13 Feb

Mississippi, my beautiful home state, you proved me wrong. I’ve never been so happy about being wrong.

From US District Court Judge Carlton Reeves at the sentencing of James Craig Anderson’s murderers

Well, That Didn’t Take Long

12 Feb

sweet fancy mosesSee, it’s like riding a bike. My righteous indignation is back!!

Explain to me HOW IS THIS NOT BIG GOVERNMENT? You don’t want regulation of oil companies. You don’t want the government telling companies they have to pay for their employees’ whore pills, but this? This magnificent pile of horse excrement is just dandy? From thinkprogress.org:

A Republican lawmaker in Montana wants to prevent women from wearing leggings as pants, and he hopes that his proposed bill to strengthen the state’s indecent exposure law will be a step in that direction.

This week, State Rep. David Moore (R) introduced House Bill 365, which would outlaw “any device, costume, or covering that gives the appearance of or simulates the genitals, pubic hair, anus region, or pubic hair region.” Under that legislative language, “tight-fitting beige clothing” would likely be banned, according to the local lawmaker.

The Billings Gazette reports that Moore would have preferred to ban yoga pants of all colors; he favors giving the cops the power to arrest people for wearing “provocative” clothing. But HB 365 stops short of that because Moore wasn’t sure whether it would be possible for police to enforce a broader ban.

So.

It’s okay because it’s the state and not the federals? It’s okay because otherwise women might want to dress the way we damn well please even if it’s beyond the scope of taste, reason, and comfort? Men are giant Penis Beasts who can’t control themselves? I’m not sure what we’re about here with the dress codes. People get mad at people whose clothes are too tight, but also mad if they’re too baggy. Take that link if only because the Ocala, FL councilwoman who backs the ban has this to say, “Everyone’s saying I’m targeting young black men…I’m black. I’ve been black for a long time, why would I be targeting black men?” I love everything about that statement. The ridiculous logic. The fact one thing has nothing to do with the other. The idea she may have been born Korean.

Me? I got no issue feeling safe around a dude whose pants are literally around his ankles. What’s he going to do? I mean, he could trip on me to death. And while I wholeheartedly agree that leggings are not pants (FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY, LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS), just ask any mother of a middle-schooler: You cannot legislate taste.

I am constantly amazed at the way the faux conservative’s mind works. He believes in personal responsibility, goddammit. But can’t be trusted around women in Lycra. Government can’t tell him where he can pray, but we should lock up Muslims. Laws take away our freedoms, but we should outlaw nipples in public. Even when they are being used for their actual purpose because BOOBIES!

I’m just curious. How will this impact ski pants? Isn’t skiing kind of important for the Montana economy? And can’t those things get a little tight?

I’ll be back Monday when I’ll probably go back to talking about drinking fabric softener.