January is a wonderful time of year. One of my favorite months for all it represents. Reflection on the past year, the smell of hope and change in the air. And a chance to review my life much like an employee evaluation of myself.
I pretend in my head that I (January Mrs. Newlywed) is interviewing past year Mrs. Newlywed 2010. How are you valuable to the people in your life? Could you be a better friend? Do you feel you called your mother enough? Have you been reading your bible? Have you been a good wife? In what areas can you improve? What would make your life happier? How are your finances?
I won't bore you with all the details, but one year back in 2005 I did fire myself. I felt I wasn't living up to the expectations of my 2006 self, and it was time fill the position with someone more qualified.
After fifteen days of sober contemplation the interview was final, and a decision was made. I would ask for a promotion. Although bar tending has served me well financially, it was time to put more focus on my life. Less late nights spent away from my husband, slinging cocktails with a poor attitude to ungrateful people. I had noticed as many things were slipping through the cracks at my place of employment, and we gravely needed an events director. I made a proposal, went through detail after detail, and mustered up the confidence to go to the owner, and ask him to create a job for me.
Butterflies in my stomach and sweaty palms, I got through my monologue and he agreed that he needed it, and he thought I would be good at it. We agreed on the money and one week later, I am the Special Events Director for the downtown hot spot.
The first week was stressful, but really fun. I created party packages, set up catered events and returned about a thousand phone calls. I thought I was super prepared for the first weekend.
Friday I got into work and quickly began moving tables and getting things set up. I had bought some candles and different decor to decorate the tables for the private events. I even made thank you cards for the people who booked the events. Two hours later with everything set to go, I realized that the 70 person party I just set up, was actually Saturday night. I had a good laugh, and thought..eh well growing pains.
Saturday night I arrive and begin resetting all the stuff I had set up the previous night. It was going to be crazy. We had 3 birthday parties, a 70 person small business party, an artist showing in the gallery, a CD release party in the main room, and another 2 large groups for bottles service. Needless to say I was a little overwhelmed. Rushing around to get everything set up, get the deposits applied to checks,and make sure as soon as one reservation got up I could quickly reset the tables for the next catered party.
I run to basement to get one of the 4 cakes that had been delivered. It was in the shape and likeness of a Jose Cuervo bottle, and weighed about 10 lbs. I set the cake on the table and make a B line for the kitchen to get a stack of 25 plates. As I'm carrying them out I hit the first step and my leg slides right out under me. It was as if it was in slow motion. I had a decision to make. Throw the plates, try to grab something and risk broken glass in a servers face, try to save the plates and aim for my ass, or ....too late. Broken tail bone, badly bruised elbow, two very very swollen vertebrates, and 25 broken plates...Did I mention they were the only clean plates left in the house?
I lied there sobbing. People are swirling around, yelling things like "Are you okay?" and "Don't move her!"..."Can you move?" I just kept crying. It hurt. It hurt bad, but it felt good to have an excuse to cry on my first extremely stressful day on a job.
But look on the bright side! At least I have jury duty tomorrow! I want to punch my 2011 self, but she can't move. Confined to a circular ass pillow and thermal back pads, I'll save the ass kicking till next year. Happy New Year everyone!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Planes Trains and Near Death Experiences
After a very crazy week of shopping,wrapping and packing, my husband and I started on our holiday journey to Orlando. We arrive at the airport and it was mild holiday traffic. I am in wonderful spirits at the excitement of Christmas, and seeing my new baby nephew build. My husband however does not like to fly. It all starts as we get in line for security. We remove shoes, coats, liquids, laptop, and put bags and purses on the tables. Even I admit that it is getting a little ridiculous. Each passenger needs four bus tubs now, and I wonder what it must look like to someone from the 1900's to see how we travel. As my husband goes through the metal detector, he is asked to remove his shirt. He throws them a glare and as he removes his shirt and is down to only a rock T, he turns to me and says, "Yeah, lets not f*$@ing fly anymore."
As I'm redressing I listen to him go on and on about our civil liberties, and how all Americans are wusses, and as long as we all continue to travel this way, nothing will change. I look at him and suddenly I see him wearing a rug for a shirt and smell proverbial nag champa and marijuana. My husband in his now exterior of rock and roll and mod scooter attire, once followed the Grateful Dead. for a year or so. I forget this because it was long over 15 years before I met him, but once in awhile, I remember. And this was definitely one of those once in a awhiles.
We had a lovely week with my family. Shopping and more wrapping and eating! And lots of quality time over wine and what my sister describes as a two day cheese plate. (A plate full of fantastic rare cheeses, of which are suppose to last 2 days. So don't be greedy!) I loved playing with the baby and seeing my husband play with him. We even went to "Seaworld" the night before Christmas and saw the penguins and manarays! But alas, all good things must come to an end. And soon it was time to pack and face the worst thing Orlando has to offer. Their airport.
Orlando international airport is the worst of the worst in my opinion. Mainly because it may as well be called place to bring your unmannerly children. Children from all over the world are brought to this airport, either so excited to see Mickey they are peeing their pants and screaming, or worse, they are at the end of their vacation. Tired, exhausted, coming down from the sugar highs and whining! It is amazing how many languages I have heard children whine in in this airport.
Second worse thing about this airport is that security is always a total zoo. They have one line for forty gates. And many passengers are traveling with more than one child. We wait in line and finally get to security and I set off the metal detector, due to about 20 bobby pins in my head, and followed by a pat down from sweet chubby Hispanic woman that I rather enjoyed. Not that I'm a sicko or anything, but who doesn't like to be gently touched from head to toe.
We finally board the aircraft, and take off about ten minutes late. Irritating because it is Christmas Day and we have a connecting flight to catch and many family members waiting to eat and unwrap presents. Non the less, I plug my head phones into the armrest to enjoy the free XM satellite radio and listen to Christmas music. (As you all know my favorite.) Nancy Sinatra is talking on the Seriously Sinatra station about her favorite Christmas's with her Dad, and just as Old Lang Syne plays we hear a very loud thud and cracking sound. As though a wrench was thrown into the the left engine. The passengers all look at one another as if to say WTF? Moments later I feel the plane make a hard left turn. Funny I took three years of Geography in college and I'm pretty sure that there are no left turns between Orlando and Minnesota. Sure enough the Captain comes on the speaker and says, "Um folks it appears that we have lost an engine, and we have been instructed to turn around and land you all safely back in Orlando. We have no further information at this time, but we here at Air Tran believe in safety first."
My husband turns to me and says, "Safety first uh? Maybe then you would have checked the engine before we took off." It was an nostalgic feeling, listening to Old Lang Syne as we plummet and level and plummet and level all the way back to Orlando. Suddenly, I didn't care so much about my presents. And if you smelled me, you may have caught just a hint of proverbial patchouli...Maybe my husband was onto something, lets take trains and bring back the road trip.
We of course made it back safely and had another couple hours to spend with my family eating leftovers and a cat nap. We got home in time to have dinner with the family and do presents and all was merry.
As I'm redressing I listen to him go on and on about our civil liberties, and how all Americans are wusses, and as long as we all continue to travel this way, nothing will change. I look at him and suddenly I see him wearing a rug for a shirt and smell proverbial nag champa and marijuana. My husband in his now exterior of rock and roll and mod scooter attire, once followed the Grateful Dead. for a year or so. I forget this because it was long over 15 years before I met him, but once in awhile, I remember. And this was definitely one of those once in a awhiles.
We had a lovely week with my family. Shopping and more wrapping and eating! And lots of quality time over wine and what my sister describes as a two day cheese plate. (A plate full of fantastic rare cheeses, of which are suppose to last 2 days. So don't be greedy!) I loved playing with the baby and seeing my husband play with him. We even went to "Seaworld" the night before Christmas and saw the penguins and manarays! But alas, all good things must come to an end. And soon it was time to pack and face the worst thing Orlando has to offer. Their airport.
Orlando international airport is the worst of the worst in my opinion. Mainly because it may as well be called place to bring your unmannerly children. Children from all over the world are brought to this airport, either so excited to see Mickey they are peeing their pants and screaming, or worse, they are at the end of their vacation. Tired, exhausted, coming down from the sugar highs and whining! It is amazing how many languages I have heard children whine in in this airport.
Second worse thing about this airport is that security is always a total zoo. They have one line for forty gates. And many passengers are traveling with more than one child. We wait in line and finally get to security and I set off the metal detector, due to about 20 bobby pins in my head, and followed by a pat down from sweet chubby Hispanic woman that I rather enjoyed. Not that I'm a sicko or anything, but who doesn't like to be gently touched from head to toe.
We finally board the aircraft, and take off about ten minutes late. Irritating because it is Christmas Day and we have a connecting flight to catch and many family members waiting to eat and unwrap presents. Non the less, I plug my head phones into the armrest to enjoy the free XM satellite radio and listen to Christmas music. (As you all know my favorite.) Nancy Sinatra is talking on the Seriously Sinatra station about her favorite Christmas's with her Dad, and just as Old Lang Syne plays we hear a very loud thud and cracking sound. As though a wrench was thrown into the the left engine. The passengers all look at one another as if to say WTF? Moments later I feel the plane make a hard left turn. Funny I took three years of Geography in college and I'm pretty sure that there are no left turns between Orlando and Minnesota. Sure enough the Captain comes on the speaker and says, "Um folks it appears that we have lost an engine, and we have been instructed to turn around and land you all safely back in Orlando. We have no further information at this time, but we here at Air Tran believe in safety first."
My husband turns to me and says, "Safety first uh? Maybe then you would have checked the engine before we took off." It was an nostalgic feeling, listening to Old Lang Syne as we plummet and level and plummet and level all the way back to Orlando. Suddenly, I didn't care so much about my presents. And if you smelled me, you may have caught just a hint of proverbial patchouli...Maybe my husband was onto something, lets take trains and bring back the road trip.
We of course made it back safely and had another couple hours to spend with my family eating leftovers and a cat nap. We got home in time to have dinner with the family and do presents and all was merry.
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