The 30% Discount WAS Nice, but...

I've had a handful of odd jobs through high school and college.

One of which was a 3 month stint at Victoria's Secret.

SUPER coveted job amongst the college girls.

I mean, who wouldn't want to wander around all that lace and satin and pink and get paid for it???

Yeah, well, it was likely one of the *worst* jobs I ever had.

Do tell?

Okay, if you insist.

Basically, if I had to sum it all up in a nutshell, I just couldn't handle how SERIOUSLY they took themselves. Look, I know they are multi-bajillion dollar company, and they obviously are successful because they do, in fact, take themselves seriously...but in practice, it was pretty hysterical. And even though I was fully clothed, it was pretty demeaning.

It was all about rules:

Rule #1: You had to wear 90% black. Translation: the only color you can wear is your top. If you wear a skirt, it has to be paired with black tights. You MUST always, no matter how hot, wear a black blazer. Which, incidentally, they don't provide you with. So I found myself having to fork over $50 for a blazer in order to get paid minimum wage. (And in college, $50 was an astronomical amount of money).

Rule #2: You had to call them "panties". Just typing that makes me feel dirty. Ugh. You were threatened with being fired if you were caught calling them underwear. Oh, and the "full butt" panties...those are briefs in case you weren't quite sure. And yes, your manager will shoot you the look of death if she overhears you calling them "full butt". Oops.

Rule #3: You can't call anything "cute". It has to be "beautiful" or "gorgeous" or some other fancier version of cute.

Rule #4: They give you a 30% discount. Rad. Loved. it. And at Christmas time it went to 40%. Even better. And when a new bra came out, you got it for free. The not so rad part? You were supposed to wear said bra and/or use your discount to buy bras...so that you can wear them on your shift. So that you can say to random customers YOU HAVE NEVER MET BEFORE IN YOUR LIFE "this is a great bra...in fact, I'm wearing it right now"...which is basically a gigantic invitation for said RANDOM STRANGER to peer at your rack and asses whether or not they feel that they are being supported sufficiently.

Really.

My favorite was when someone would look you over, shrug their shoulders and say "meh"...

Ouch.

Rule #5: There's this sort of unsaid expectation that you will get ogled up one side and down the other...and it's just part of the job and you can't be weirded out by it. What does that mean? "Hi, I'm here looking for a gift for my wife/girlfriend". "Okay, what size does she wear?" "Um, I don't know...[steps back, looks you up...and down...back up again...] but yeah, I think she's about your size..."

Shower...now...please. Wait, I think I just vomited in my mouth a little bit...

Rule #6: You can't laugh at people. So when a girl comes in and tries on some lingerie, because her husband or whoever is coming home from Iraq after 8 months...and she tries on 2 different little outfits...but she looks like a 9 year old boy in both of them...you have to keep a straight face when she asks you in all seriousness "which of these do you think he'll like better?" That was mean, but really people...I don't know, I don't care, and honey...maybe you should stop by the local salon and get them eyebrows wrangled while you are out...

Meow.

Needless to say, I only lasted a few months.

Starbucks Stress

Since the last two posts have been a bit of Debbie Downers, I thought I'd post something super frivolous and random.

Why?

Because it's my blog, and I can.

With that, I have something to get off my chest:

Starbucks totally stresses me out.

Look, their coffee is okay. I don't think it's great...it's not bad or anything, but it's not that phenomenal either. (I'm sure some reading this will gaffaw and be utterly offended, but whatever, it's my opinion).

Even still, you will find me at the drive thru every once in a blue moon. Mainly because, well, you can get yourself a coffee at a drive thru.

Even if it does cost me almost 5 bucks.

But the whole experience makes me break out in a sweat.

I mean, really...can't I just have a MEDIUM mocha???

I can never seem to remember the stupid size language...why is a "tall" the small???? And the "grande" (which means BIG) actually the MEDIUM??? And then suddenly they go to "venti" which means 20 in Italian...because it's 20 ounces...but it's out of sequence. If you want to go that route, you should call the small Otto...since that's how you say eight (ounces) in Italian.

(By the way, I had to totally google all of that...)

CONSISTENCY PEOPLE!!!

And when I DO say the word medium...the cashier, er barista (whatEVER)...always feels the need to correct me..."okay, so you want a Grande Cafe Mocha..."

Seriously. Just give me my stupid coffee.

You don't have to insult my intelligence by correcting my inability/refusal to speak your MADE UP and inconsistent fake language.

I shouldn't have to refer to the menu in order to remind myself what your silly lingo is.

It's COFFEE.

Don't make it more complicated than it needs to be.

(It reminds me of when I worked at Victoria's Secret and they had all kinds of rules about words I used to describe the "panties"...ugh!...how gross is that word???...I wanted to just shake the manager and scream YOU SELL UNDERWEAR FOR A LIVING!!! GET OVER YOUR BAD SELF!!!!" )

Coffee.


And then they print these little "philisophical" quotes on the side of the cup...like they're doing you a favor by making you not only bi-lingual...but now you got your Enlightenment 101 for the day too.

Gee, thanks Starbucks.

Because I would be totally shallow and uneducated if it weren't for you.

And then...they start firing all kinds of questions at you...soy? dairy? double shot? whipped cream...

I just. shut. down.

I have no idea.

Just coffee that kinda tastes like chocolate.

In medium size.

Not the big one, not the small one.

The one in the middle.

Skinny? Macchiato? Frapuccino???

I have honestly been so overwhelmed at times, that I seriously scrap my entire order and just ask for a water.

"Bottled? Flavored? With ice? No ice? Lemon?"

O.M.G.

You have GOT to be kidding me.

"Would you like a shortbread cookie that supports an Ethiopian Village of basket weavers?"

No thanks.

"How about a CD with crooning tunes from a self-absorbed pseudo-pop star where five cents goes towards a knitting tribe in Madagascar?"

Just a medium coffee.

At this point, I don't even care if it tastes like chocolate.

In fact, I just want to get out of here.

The grinding and steaming and clanking is making me want to have an absolute nervous breakdown.

I always marvel at the people who go to Starbucks to "study" or "read" or have a "conversation"...how can you hear yourself THINK in all that racket????


(this is where I know I'm getting old...)


"Did you bring your own mug? Did you want a napkin? Would you like to buy a pound of coffee to make at home? Have you tried our new instant coffe? How about some granola and yogurt?"

Just shoot me now.

Obviously I'm not the only one...since someone made a cheat sheet...

Okay, I'm done now.

Thanks for listening.

I'm pretty sure I just wasted like 7 minutes of your day.

Sorry about that.

(Footnote: none of this is directed at the employees themselves, since I know that they are only doing their job and following corporate directives...hell, I had to utter the word "panties" all day long...ugh...just typing it gives me the heeby-jeevies...)

Diaper Bags

I really wanted a fun, stylish diaper bag...that was a back pack, considering I won't exactly have a lot of extra arms. After searching around I realized that the cuter bags were the traditional "purse" style...and the backpacks were boring and plain black. I soon realized that if I was going to get what I wanted, it was going to have to be custom made. (Yes, I'm a brat like that).

I began surfing etsy, and came across Shelly and her shop Pink Punk Boutique. She makes custom purses and diaper bags...but no backpacks (at the time). So I emailed her and we worked via email to design the EXACT bag I wanted and I chose the fabric for a perfectly custom look.

I got my bag in the mail and it is soooo well made! The construction is fabulous, it is sturdy and I have no doubt it will hold up to daily wear and tear. Besides, her prices were totally reasonable. Cuter diaper bags at Babies R Us are about $50...so for a little more, I was able to get a completely custom bag...!



Check out her site, she has tons of great purses too!

Chores

Am I breaking child labor laws when I assigned a twice daily chore to my 23 month old?

How about if he *likes* to do it and thinks it's a game?

How long do you think I can play off that feeding the dogs is a ton of fun?

Whatever, for now, it keeps me from having to do it, so I'm gonna go with it as long as I can!

My Love/Hate Relationship with Etsy

I love Etsy.

I hate Etsy.

What is Etsy?

Oh, just a website where you can peruse around looking at all kinds of handmade boutique-y goodness…

Stuff you can’t buy anywhere else.

Stuff that is so cute it hurts.

Stuff that you can bet your bottom no other kid on the playground will be wearing!

My friends have been singing Etsy’s praises for a while now. But I couldn’t quite get into it.

Turns out that the reason I couldn’t was because I had a boy.

And now, I have girls.

Two of them.

And oh, the wonders of Etsy!!!

So much yummy cuteness!

It’s really easy for me to not buy stuff because I’m a cheapskate and I can easily tell myself that something is too expensive...

...but what happens when the adorable-ness is cheap too???!!!

And so, as much as I love Etsy, I hate that I can easily waste my entire day and thousands of dollars without even trying.

I really should only have boys.

This might be bad.

I might need an intervention.

But can you BLAME me when you see my latest purchases???

And really, they were less than $10 EACH! I mean, come ON! You can’t even get a (half as cute) little beanie at Target for that much!

It doesn’t help that she also makes these itty bitty clippies…

Like I said...this could be bad. Really bad.

Ah, Bummer

I guess it doesn't really matter, but the official top names of the year 2008 have been published. Henry is #84. That's still pretty low on the list, but when I chose it, I didn't realize it was anywhere near the top 100 names. I don't know why that bothers me, but it kinda does. Is that silly of me?

Baby Names of 2008

Does it get much better than this?

Henry is in bed for the night. Andy is at a basketball game. The new toy tractor that beeps and grunts and snorts that Henry has been playing with all. day. long. is finally quiet. It's just me, my cozy slippers, a cheery Christmas tree, still warm from the oven chocolate chip cookies, and a mug of milk.

Thank you Lord for crazy, loud days. They make the stillness of night and the simples pleasures of life all that much sweeter.

What Can You Get for $10?

2 shirts.
2 pairs of jeans (Levis & Old Navy)

2 pairs of Carters Fleece PJs.

I LOVE consignment stores! The stuff is cute and in brand new condition. And Cheap!
(To be fair, my total would have normally been $20, but I had a 50% off coupon. SCORE!)