The Mysterious Card

Usually I find if a place I spend money at goes the extra mile to contact me afterwards to be fairly impressive. Usually. Sometimes it can be like really? I went there once, feel confident that you didn't suck that much and I will be back. But that's only sometimes...

So when I went to the mailbox today and found a card from a restaurant we ate at in Phoenix when we were there for work related purposes, I automatically was fairly impressed they went that extra mile. That is, until I came into the house and started opening the mail.

First of all, this card's envelope is addressed to my husband - which is fine, since he used the company card to pay for the dinner and I am sure that's where the waitress got his name from. Even after opening the card and looking at the note inside I was initially impressed. Then I reread it again. I then I got to thinking a bit...

First of all, this card is addressed to 'Scott and Wife' inside. Wait...What?? I am *just* the wife?? I have no name?

Calm down Lisa, I told myself. There is probably no way she could have known your name. But d*mnit! I have a NAME ya know?

Anyway! I moved on from that and started wondering how in the heck they got our home address. As I pointed out before, we used a company card. Hence, there is a company address attached to that card. Sooo....

I am musing over this information and then my husband starts mulling it over himself. As he was speaking out loud about how odd this was, I firmly state:

"Well, I dunno either. Your WIFE would like to know too"

He snorts and replies, "Seriously, I wonder how they got our address. I am confused."

I answer, "I dunno either. Your WIFE would like to know too"

He snorts and calls me crazy...

But seriously!? WTF? I am the WIFE! I have a right to know how my husband made such an impression that they went out of their way to find our home address to mail us the card.

In other news tho, we did receive a card from Jared's (jewerly store) today, too. Can't help but think they need to amend their slogan:

"He went to Jared's!"

to

"He really should go to Jared's!!!"

The Big Apple

Where to begin?

Well, I guess I should explain that the Big Apple is a restaurant we went to tonight. I should also warn y'all that you may want to stay away from the Big Apple. Well, you are free to try it if you like:

1) To be able to smell the strong smell of must and carry that smell with you on your clothes after you leave the restaurant.

2) To be directed to the extremely taped up seat by a waitress with a gun holster and a toy gun in aforesaid holster.

3) To sit down at the table to eat to see a picture of a steer on the table with a dark spot in the middle of its head that looks like a bullseye.

4) To be able to truly see what kind of restaurants they target for those restaurant makeover shows.

5) To eat meatloaf that is about 10% meat and 90% of something else you afraid to ask. Or know what that 90% was when your stomach starts churning a few minutes into the meal.

6) To eat the toughest chicken wings. EVER.

7) To realize that the old guy's cologne that he coated himself in smells better than the musty smell of the restaurant as you leave the restaurant.

8) To be able to say you lived to blog about this.

Tired of Pretending

Generally, I keep things fairly light hearted on here. Generally speaking, I feel that way. But lately? Not so much…

I am tired of being the person who remains quiet and let’s others voice their opinions about how horrible certain kinds of people are. I am tired of being the person who doesn’t say anything when those people outright insult me in the process. I am tired of so many people in this country making generalizations about groups of people. I am tired of being the person that always tries to be open-minded when around closed minded people. I am tired of people always taking from me and never giving back. I am tired of those people feeling like they have a right to do so.

In a nutshell……..I am tired of pretending. Why do I not get the respect I show other people? Why do other people look at my life and assume I have no problems? Why do people not care about my opinions and feel like it’s their duty to tell me how wrong I am? Why do I continue to let them?

Without being political, this last election has taught me something. I will *not* take this kind of attitude from people anymore. I will *not* care what people think of me anymore. I will *not* bother to explain to people how I feel when they quite obviously do *not* care how *I* feel. I will *not* reach out to people who think I am the enemy when they do not even know me and/or care to know the real me. I will *not* tolerate people saying it’s impossible to do this or that – OR saying that I do not understand.

I do not owe everyone a reason for things I do and/or have done. I DO deserve respect. From now on, I will not tolerate people who will not or are apparently incapable of showing respect. From now on, I will not pretend….

Do You Think I Am Pretty?

There are times a guy needs keep his mouth shut if he is unable to respond the way a gal wants him to. I sound harsh you say? Well, let me tell you a short story…

Husband and wife make their annual trip to the Harley Rally in Sturgis, SD. Husband is in 7^th heaven, despite having to rent a bike because his is in the shop. The wife tolerates it, and is not surprised that on the way back she gets a bad sunburn on her arm. Yet, besides this fact, the trip is fairly uneventful.

Husband and wife drop off the rental bike and are on their way back home about 4 days later. About 2 days after this, the wife’s arm starts to peel, exposing pinkish skin against the dark tan she got on her arm. She fusses over it, and it continues to get worse…

Husband and wife stop at a hotel for the night and watch a ‘Fresh Prince of Bel Air episode as they are about to call it a night. OK….ok….the wife tuned in initially to this show…BUT the husband *was* watching as the part came on where Vivian – the wife – goes:

o    Vivian: Do you think I'm pretty?

o    Phillip (husband) : Woman look in that mirror and tell me what you see.

o    Vivian: I don't know.

o    Phillip: Well let me tell you. I see every great thing a man could want in a woman. Eyes so dark and deep a man could get lost in them. Skin the color of mahogany, soft as satin. Body fit for a goddess. Look how beautiful you are. Look how beautiful you are.

And the wife sighs and looks at her husband and pointedly says:

“You should take notes”

And the husband replies:

“Your skin is like bark…. On a tree….all flakey and ….”

Wife smacks him.

The Cozy Corner

I wonder if our GPS is possessed. Heck, I wonder if my husband is possessed sometimes too. I swear he tests me on a daily basis. Need an example you say? I have three words for you…

The Cozy Corner

Oh, yes. The name sounds nice, but it’s the last place a priss like me frequents. And thanks to our lovely GPS, it lead us right by it while barking its orders at us in one female voice and then another.  No – I am not kidding about the two voices.  One sounds quite pleasant, the other is more grumpy and sounds like she has been smoking a carton of cigarettes a day for years and years. The pleasant voice dominates most of the time, but as soon as we hit the Montana line, Miss GPS starting spazzin’ on us.

Honestly, I am not sure whose voice we heard before we got to the Cozy Corner, but I was filled with such dread walking in the door that I think I have blanked it out.

The Cozy Corner *is* centered on the corner, but I am not sure you would call it cozy. It was a bar – a bar that obviously had no one coming by to check on them for health code violations – or ANY violations for that matter. As I walk in, I see three people turn around to stare at us and I instantly cringe. I feel like an outsider, and no matter how hard I might act like I belonged there, it was apparent I didn’t. This didn’t stop my husband any, as he walked up to the bar and asked if they had anything good to eat.

Gack…. I think…. *we* might be the food if they don’t like you saying that I think. But the stooped over bartender exclaims that everything is good there and gives us menus and we sit down at a table. I make the mistake of looking around and notice empty boxes lining half of the wall, a cardboard cutout of some cheerleader gal that is signed stuck behind those boxes and a fireplace with ‘Cozy Corner’ on it that apparently had flames shooting outside it judging by the black soot lining the wall upwards a few feet.

Gack… I think again….I am not sure my stomach can handle this place. I look towards the bar and see the sideways glances of the people sitting up there – weathered, scrunched up faces that were sizing me up.

 Gack.. I think once again …and I look at my husband as he tells me to relax and chuckles.

 *&^%$%$^”, I think, “I will show him” as I try to act nonplussed that I was there.

 I didn’t do a good job at it, because when I told him what I wanted to order, he orders me two shots of rum also. Which I think is fine, makes me look bada$$ right? Like I am not too prissy to drink something that hardcore right? =)

 Well, I did get my rum and diet pepsi (shush, even hardcore people drink diet pepsi! Uhh…don’t they?), altho I looked longingly at the glass wanting a straw so bad I am pretty sure I nixed any badassedness they might have all been initially thinking about me.

 BUT, the rum helped and I started to relax some. The food came and it was decent and most importantly, my stomach is not gurgling in utter frustration yet. And as we walked out the door, we were told to have a safe trip, which I found nice.

 Altho, I was a bit too eager to get to the truck and wonder if they knew something we didn’t and this trip would be my last, but…

 Oh dear, I am starting to sound like our GPS I guess…..

Romance Gone Wrong

Don't judge me, but I downloaded a romance book the other day. Nothing raunchy - just some light reading since I haven't picked up a book in months. And heck! I am a gal, that kinda stuff appeals to me ok?

Wait. I sound defensive I guess. I probably am that way cuz I was so friggin irritable by the time I was done reading the book. I am not a fast reader by any means, so even a 200 page book can take a bit longer for me to get thru than the next person. So I guess maybe I get a bit more grumpy if the book s*cked.

But honestly? There were several flaws to this romance:

#1 Their parents hated each other, yet they didn't care and continued their relationship secretly. Once the parents knew and one of the parents confronted the gal in the relationship with 'news' why he was against them having a future, she just took off. Uh huh.... vanished. Drove hundreds of miles away. Didn't question her guy's Dad at all - just believed him all of the sudden. I mean, what kind of moron does that? How in love could you possibly be if you didn't at least *question* the guy who was against you the whole time had to say?

#2 This gal eventually comes back for her Dad's wedding. She bumps into the guy she was/is so madly in love with and finds out he is pissed. First of all.... DUH??!! Second of all... why the heck didn't HE question why she got 2nd thoughts all of the sudden? Instead, he just feels sorry for himself. I dunno, but I figger *someone* has to be the grownup in this story right? Go friggin find her as soon as possible and question her why she is being a dumba$$!!

#3 Since these two bump into each other when she comes back for the wedding, they automatically wanna get down each others' pants. OK, fine. EXCEPT, the gal was told by her guy's Dad that she was his daughter. So that would make them half brother/sister and isn't that an instant turnoff? Excuse me while I go take a shower..... ickk...

Anyway.... I feel better... I guess...

Coexist

Flies piss me off. Ask anyone who knows me. I can be totally consumed with wanting to see them die. Hence, there is no way we 'coexist' with each other - we never will.

Unfortunately, summer seems to bring flies into our house on a fairly regular basis. The first fly of the year was a horsefly. Cuz, gee, we have to start the summer out with a BANG right? Anyway, this horse fly was one of the smartest I have ever encountered. He/she knew I was going to put a fly swatter in my hand even before I had it in my hand. It did figure 8's in the air right in front of me - taunting me that I was unable to kill it as my hands spazzed out left and right trying to swat at it. Then the fly would hide and make me think that maybe I had miraculously killed it.

Then another day would dawn and I would again look like a dork going through the same motions over and over and OVER again. Yet, one day I tracked it to the kitchen and watched it as it went behind the blinds.

Swat!!

*Buzzz* goes the fly.

SWAT!!!

*Buzzz* goes the fly.

SWAT! SWAT! SWATTTT!!!

*Buzzzzz, Buzzzz* goes the fly.

*whoosh, whoosh* goes the blinds.

I wait.

And wait...

And the next day the fly did his/her usual figure 8 in front of me.

*GRRR*

And after many hours of stalking him, I killed him/her by one of our fake plants...

Two days go by of fly-less bliss....

Then one of the slightly smaller ones began plotting its revenge....