mailbox

Dear Halloween,

I feel like I need to talk to you about our relationship. It's never been good. I feel like you don't really care that I don't like you. I keep getting more and more fed up with you, and just keep on being creepy, and drinking, and wearing sexy french maid costumes. I want to focus on moving on with our lives, but you are always stuck in October, with spider webs and fake tonbstones in the yard.

It's over.

I will not put up with your haunted houses, your ghost stories, your horror movies. I will not dress up in some costume every year, just to placate you. I will not go to your parties, hang your decorations, or be excited about candy.

Oh, and I'm tired of finding all our sheets with holes cut in them. Grow up.

Yes, I will share

Go see this movie!!

Across the Universe

It's ah-mazing.

Seriously.

Julie Taymore is my hero.

Let me clarify...

Here is a list of what I actually am at work:

1. A receptionist
2. An assistant spa director

Here is a list of things I am NOT:

1. A research librarian. (I will not look up things on the interenet for you while I could be helping other people.)

2. Your very! own! personal! maid! (I will clean up locker rooms, sure, but I will not pick up the napkin you just threw on the floor. Seriously, you pick it up!)

3. Your personal appointment calendar. (I do not know when you work, therefore do not laugh at me when I suggest an appt. time that you can't make because you are at work. Also, do not say you can come 'whenever' when what you really mean is 'Never on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, or Thursdays, or Friday between 3 and 5 or Every Saturday, or anytime before 12 noon.' That is not 'whenever')

4. Your make-up mannequin (with my arms, legs, and cheeks at your disposal because you want to check out how the make-up looks, but not on yourself because you don't want to ruin the facial you just had.)

5. Your personal gift shopper. (I don't know your wife. I don't know what scent she would like, or if she takes baths or not. Hopefully you would know some of those things. I can suggest what I like, but you can't get upset if you give it to your wife and she doesn't like it)

6. You therapist/psychiatrist (I don't want to know about how you have to rebook because your husband is a louse who won't watch the kids and you have to stay home and make them all dinner and this is the third time he's done this to you this week, and you'll just never guess what he did yesterday when my sister came over and I was trying to make this craft thing with the kids....I do care about your well-being, but you make me uncomfortable with details.)

7. In charge of everything in the spa. (To quote somebody else, 'Listen lady, I don't make the rules, I just have to tell you about them.' No matter how hard you yell at me and tell me I am a horrible person, I. Can't. Change. A. Thing. I'm sorry. Call my boss, the owner, and yell at her. Actually don't. Just quit yelling for a while and call back when you've calmed down.)


Further bulletins about what I am and what I am not will be posted when warranted.

For the inner shopper in us all...

If you like Old Navy (and I have to admit I do) You should probably get there soon. I went today as an innocent enough trip to look for pants, seeing as how fall/winter is coming and I am in need of things to put on the lower half of my body. I found a pair of pants on sale for $12.99 which not only was completely uncharachteristic of me, but will make Ben very happy indeed.

Also, three long sleeved tee's for $4.50. I know, it's crazy.

Plus all those things that they kept telling you over the summer YOU! MUST! HAVE! are now really, really on sale to make way for more things that YOU! MUST! HAVE!

So get over the fear that everybody shops there and you will thus inevitably show up at a party in the same outfit as someone else, and give-in to the generica madness. You'll thank me for it.