This Blog Is From August 2007-March 2010

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To Be or Not To Be

...a thin bride or a happy bride.

I just ordered diet tea on line instead of working out. And now I'm writing about it. I'll do some sit-ups after this last bite of sorbet.

irRASHional

Three times in past four months I've woken up with a reason to think I was born in the wrong century. You know, the one where women faint if someone says a swear word.

I'm only getting married for goodness sake. Of course now I'll have to wear a turtleneck but it will be a unique statement for a May bride. It will go well with the stuffed shells.

Reinventing the Wheel

To Whom It May Concern:

There is a typo on my ticket. Will I need to correct it before I board? It says "Mr. Jennifer Boutell" and I am a "Ms." If I do need to correct this, how do I do it without having to call in? Every time I call customer services the wait time is over half an hour. Thank you in advance for your assistance.

Dear Mr Boutell-

I'm sorry you were unable to speak to one of our customer service agents when you telephoned. We manage our contact centre operations very carefully but there are times when external influences lead to flight disruptions or just when many customers choose the same period to contact us. When this happens, you may find yourself in a call queue. We do make every effort to answer every call as quickly as possible.

You have mentioned about typing error on your ticket. As your title on the ticket has been put incorrectly, please contact our local sales office. Their telephone numbers can be found at: http://www.britishairways.com/travel/ctclist/

Thank you for taking the time to contact us
British Airways
Response(Sharad)


Hello Sharad-

I am replying to this because I simply want to point out that I waited three days for a response to an inquiry and the answer I've received is not at all an answer. You simply pointed me back to the same system I had trouble with to begin with. I did not need an explanation as to why British Airways has long call wait times, I needed answers to the questions I gave. I am now exactly where I was three days ago, on hold in a long queue. Had I known this was my only option for help, I would have stayed on the phone. If British Airways offers online help, why was I then told to get back on the phone? That is a rhetorical question. I am sure you are just doing your job, I just wanted to point out a glitch in the customer service system at your company.

AND you called me "Mr." Hilarious.

_________________________________________

So I called. After being on hold for 17 minutes, I told my Customer Care Service Representative, Susan, my ironic virtual customer service experience. She listened like she got me, laughed a little hesitantly and, paused like she didn't really understand my point and then said:

"I am so sorry they called you 'Mr.' I do apologize for that. But I'm amazed they got back to you so quickly. Usually it takes 6 to 8 weeks."

I'm starting to think maybe I have aphasia.

Ziggy's Tree

When you love someone you have to honor his art and let him keep it for himself. And you have to honor her fears to release whenever she is ready.

No matter how much you love them or 'mean well' you can't help them shape their soul and you can't pry away the wall that keeps them from shaping it. It is theirs to battle and wrestle with; to hug and tug and twist and dig their fingers into.

You can't do it for them.

And they can't do it for you.

But you can look them in the eye when they are lost and searching for help. You can hold their bodies up and push their arms in place and whisper in their ears that you will always be there no matter how hard it gets.

I Am the Walrus

A few months back, Greg and I decided to have a glass of wine after a show...free tickets, mind you, so we thought the was wine justi....

[Right now I am trying to write a blog at the end of a long work day...week. My brain is mush and there are a lot...A LOT...of horns honking right outside the building. Like a horn symphony... - people wanna go home...back to Jersey...TGIF - I can't think straight to type the funny story about the drunk dude at the bar a few months back...my sole purpose for opening up this template was to make fun of the mush brain trying to pick up the bartender...takes one to know one...]

...fied. [Honking stopped after my rant.] The bar was almost empty except for two men sitting at the bar with two stools between them. One was extremely metrosexual and one was wasted-face frat man. Both were trying to win the favor of the pretty, blonde bartender [Shelly Long], who clearly was there to work and clearly not interested except for maybe an extra smile tossed in for good-tip measure.

Frasier vs. DEERUNK Norm.

After the third time we saw Norm pace the length of the restaurant, 'Diane' came over and explained that "he likes to take walks". We smiled at her sympathetically.

Frasier uneventfully gave up and walked out the door leaving Norm at one end of the bar with Greg and I at the other.

I accidentally caught Slobber Bobs eye the one time he lifted his chin from his chest. He wobbled over and made some small talk. Some of it pretty self deprecating and some of it obviously trying to impress 'Diane'.

He asked to pay our tab.

Greg and I looked at each other.

Do you give back the extra change the cashier hands you? Do you call out to the woman who dropped cash out of her back pocket on the street? Do you point out the miss-swipe of the toilet brush and into the shopping bag?

Yes. You do.

We told him no, and thanks, and no thanks, and thanks, but no thanks. But he WOULD NOT HEAR OF IT. We warned him of the regrets he'd have in the morning when he woke up and reached for the aspirin and the trash can. He wouldn't have it. 'Diane' had to understand that he was a gracious big spender.

Four glasses of wine. Splurged.

Almost immediately after the transaction. He walked to the edge of the bar and wiggled his finger, beckoning Diane to his side. He leaned over and all mushy-mouth and whispery-loud asked her out. When she refused he asked why. When she explained she was seeing someone he wanted to know who. When she said she just wasn't interested he swayed backwards and said:

CAN I GIVE YOU MY CAR FOR A WEEK AND A HALF?

[I, of course, grabbed my phone and typed this statement in my notes and emailed it to myself.]

The three of us looked at the floor. She asked him what he meant and he mumbled like he was embarrassed, waved her off and, knocking over his stool as he went by, walked out the door.

I've been working on a tedious project at work that makes my brain feel like it is trapped in a little tunnel. I can completely understand statements like these. So. If I show up drunk at work tomorrow, maybe I will start to make sense to myself.

Dead Birds of Tivoli

We went to visit good friends 'upstate' this past weekend...wait...let me start over...

WE GOT THE HELL OUT OF THE CITY THIS WEEKEND!!!!!

The first time we visited our friends in Tivoli, this little gem of a town to where our friends were considering relocating, we stayed in the place they were considering buying... a rickety charm of a house...a fixer-upper but too much fixer-uppering for city mice. The second time we visited them they had already moved into a home they were renting on an estate on the side of a luscious hill overlooking the river. Greg and I seriously considered getting married there. They've since had to move because the house was sold and the new Beetlejuice owners booted them as tenants. This last time, we visited them in their newly rented loft that sits over the local Artists' Co-op, portrait studio and is next door to the coolest bar on main street.

The first visit we got a tour of the town they were falling in love with.

The second time we got to relax in their new home and hear about the town they were getting to know.

The third time we went to places where they were known.

Each time we visit we have to bring Stewart and each time we take turns walking him through the country air and simple life. Even Stewart relaxes and runs more. I swear you see him smiling.

On our second visit we were there a little longer than the trip prior and we spent a lot of time outdoors. We found a spot by the side of the house where a nest had either been destroyed by the day's downpour or gravity pulled it off the roof. And twice, on two different days, we found tiny, naked, featherless, eyeless birds dead on the sidewalk. It was uncomfortable to come across but for whatever reason, I was intrigued... moved to stare at and finally pick up and bury the little things. I remember feeling a sense of being in the world, nature, the circle of life, the whole 'I'm just a speck on the speck of this planet in the universe' and it felt good. I'm a part of this...a small small part...no more pressure...the worries can go...the rent will get paid...I can stop and think, no, create for no other reason than because it sounds fun.

This past visit, I was walking Stewart and we came across a patch of grass and trees between homes. A place evident where everyone walks their dogs. Stewart added to the collection and walking back we came across a beautiful, perfectly preserved full grown blackbird dead in the mulch. The iridescent feathers popped and stood out against the black ones. It's eyes were peacefully closed.

I was again reminded of this circle and peace. My subconscious keeps telling my belly this all means something. Country air and simple life. I'm drawn to it.

I hear the most popular 'fantasy' job surveyed in the United States is: COWBOY. Didn't we start out that way? I love the dirt that is still in my boots.

I hope Stewart didn't catch anything. I should Purell his paws tonight.