Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time I was living in a beautiful spot on the ocean which we will call Camden, Maine. There I worked at a huge banking conglomerate where if you weren't careful you could get sucked into intimate and oft messy office politics.

During the summer the resort town was amazing. Filled with interesting people exploring the Maine coast. The winter was unfortunately another story. It became an empty ghost town, cold, boring and removed. Unless you liked men in trucks with gun racks (I'm not kidding here) you were completely out of luck in the dating world. At 24 I wasn't really for spinsterhood yet.

Before things had gotten so bleak I could at least say that I had a fun summer. I had reunited with an old friend that I had known my entire life. He had always been like a brother to me and we had danced the dance before but never fully tangoed. I was flattered that he liked me but wasn't sure I could really "date" him. He had grown up what I would describe as privileged. His father was very successful, he and his brothers all had a private education for both high school and college. I had it very different, I bounced around the public school system and paid for my own college education. So anyway to make a long story short I had always ASSUMED he had been bred with good manners. I mean growing up boys will be boys and I guess manners was not something you pay attention to in your youth.

We decided on a road trip up to the famed Bar Harbor and there we stopped at a beautiful restaurant right on the water. It had a covered patio and near perfect setting. We ordered wine and brie cheese. What, he inquired was brie? I was stunned that he had never heard of brie before so explained in layman's terms - it's cheese - thinking that was all the description it needed.

A plate arrived before us with a delicate little pastry in it's center. It might have been a few inches long, a perfect amount for such a rich appetizer. He eyed me suspiciously before reaching for his fork. He looked down at the plate, up at me and arched his arm swiftly cutting the cheese RIGHT DOWN THE MIDDLE and popped an ENTIRE half into his mouth. I was speechless not only because it is so rich but it was warm - possibly hot. He looked right at me as he chewed - his cheeks puffed out. It took a while for him to get it down. I demonstrated through my actions how to cut a small piece of cheese pastry and savor it with the wine. A thought completely lost on him.

He was more than a little obsessed with his image and kept himself on a very strict diet during the week. In other words he actually MEASURED & WEIGHED his food! He once brought a portable scale to a picnic. On weekends he allowed himself unrestricted freedom to eat whatever, whenever and in large quantities.

Flash forward to another dining experience this time Chinese food in Portland. I had lived in Hawaii and developed a taste for hot & spicy things. Returning to Maine I was constantly disappointed with the lack of flavor in these types of foods. So when we ordered I requested it HOT. I asked my friend if he would want to share because of my preference. He said he would be fine with his order. Well he woofed his right down and sat eyeing my veggie delight. Finally, overcome with his salivating, I offered it to him with a strong warning. I was shocked when he shoveled it in and if you are familiar with spicy food you don't notice the hot sting until after you finish eating. When he finally stopped to take a breath he turned a painful shade of red and started guzzling his water, then my water (which is the WORST thing to do!) He motioned for the waiter like he was on a sinking ship. The waiter produced hard candy (which can stop the burning sensation) he was incredulous - Candy! I don't want any candy! I stifled a good laugh, returned to Camden and wrote a letter ending out brief time together.

Toddler running amok

So after the Christmas Card Disaster I take my almost 19 month old over to BCBG which happens to be her new favorite store. Not for the clothes but those enormous DISCO balls used for the holiday decorations. She just loves them and I figured she could use a little fun after our misadventure.

At first I'm not paying attention to the clothes, I typically don't shop there. But when she seizes bouncing up and down on the whitle leather chaise lounge and decides lying down underneath is far more interesting I start looking through the conveinently placed sale rack. Robo shopper takes over "MUST LOOK AT COATS>>>NOW". She's having fun - I'm having fun. I inquire about a mirror and I am led to the front of the store. I lure my child with the mention of big beautiful crystal balls, and it works. Only now we're near the entrance and I fear she'll make a run for it. I corral her away from the door unfortunately right toward the display window. It's too late, she squeals with delight and dodges amongst unstable blocks and teetering mannequins to the far corner of the display (no man's land). There she SCREAMS in excitement between the mannequins legs. Oh my GOD - I just want to die.

The sales lady on the verge of some sort of holiday meltdown tries explaining to her that it is "dangerous". Jeesh - you can't negotiate with a toddler. I can see the sales staff exchange nervous glances and roll their eyes - and ironically that would have been me before having children.

So I do what works best but not before stepping outside to get a full view of my jubilant toddler bouncing between the mannequin's legs (who happens to be donning a short green dress - resort wear) - anyway I pretend to go "bye bye" and out she comes holding a plastic crab used in the display (???)

I hope your holiday has been as interesting as mine - HAPPY HOLIDAYS. More to come - next a rant about my rabid chihuahua.

Christmas Card Disaster

SO I'm at work and I have a huge stack of holiday cards to send. I inquire about the nearest Post Office and discover it's close. My biz partner asks why - I explain and he INSISTS on sending one of the work guys over to do it. I'm not that high-maintenance but the allure of having someone else stand in line for stamps 3 days before Christmas is too irresistible. "Ok" - I mean really - how can someone screw this one up!

Well it turns out you can. Today I received several of my holiday cards - my first thought is RTS since there is no stamp. I flick the card over and discover that the stamp was put on the BACK of the card. And being so highfalutin I but my return address on the back on the card - in this case the card was sent right back to me at 42 cents a pop!

SO I round up my toddler and head to the Post Office - this time the line is out the door (did I mention I just did this the day before because I had forgotten a few cards?) The postal worker draws thick lines with markers through all the various barcodes etc. hands them back to me with instructions to write the address on the back of the card and return. One vegan chocolate chip cookie later I return the chocolate smeared, marked up, sticky cards with multiple addresses to the postal worker. All that just to save approximately $2.94 - I had the stamps in my purse the entire time but was too embarrassed to send out cards with a stamp on the front and the back - now I'm not sure what would have been worse oh well...

Thanks for listening...