July 7

Holy cow man...what a day.

I have no children. I have 4 cats. Yet somehow my life has become a daily ritual of Murphy's law. People who think my life is easy because I'm not a mom or married, I have news for you... my life should be a breeze but instead - well, no. I strive for an easy breezy life - I try not to get bogged down with responsibility, cooking, cleaning or whatever else I can try to let slide by. I am sort of like the kid in class who acts like they are busy thinking so they won't get called on by the teacher...

I have a part-time morning job and today it only consisted of a meeting that really just went over my head. Especially when a woman who has seriously magical powers of putting me to sleep almost instantaneously the minute she starts talking came into the meeting and sat right next to me. Uh oh. I told my friend later that I was going to record her at the next meeting so that when I have trouble sleeping, I can pop in a tape and - snap - out like a light. It'll save me from reading big books, like the bible.

This was made worse by the fact that allergies had attacked my eyes during the night, so they were a lovely shade of red with what felt like twigs sticking into them, and goobery. Terrible. I must've just looked frightening - so anyway, this all sounds boring but the best was yet to come. I had mentally planned to go home to a nice nap, maybe checking out the Michael Jackson memorial on TV...you know, the perfect life of a single woman with no major responsibilities.

Well, the nap never happened. I got home and did a few things around the apartment - nothing productive mind you - and went in to check out the memorial. Holy crap. I lost it when they wheeled in the casket and I was nonstop waterworks for the next 1-1/2 hours! Did THAT ever help my eyes look and feel better - oh 100%. I just don't know what hit me - the music, the stories - just when I thought nobody else could get me, here comes everybody up on the stage to sing "We Are The World"...oh man, are you trying to kill me here??? I was literally sobbing. Just keep that between us though, okey doke?

So, no nap, eyes on fire and now swollen shut from crying, a headache, and lo and behold it's time to get to work. Of course it's very busy - we have people out on vacation so it tends to spill over, so I try to stay focused. A few hours in, I realize - I am hungry. Off to the kitchen to try to find something somewhat healthy and decide on my Boca Burgers in the freezer, but I will add a slice of cheese to make them better. I also crammed some steamed green beans into the microwave - you know the kind that steam in the bag and turn out perfectly? Love those.

What I don't love is the electrical system of my apartment. It is old. Very old. I should've known...cook either the Boca burgers on the electric skillet OR steam the beans. Yep - fuse blows. Please insert the "F" word here pretty loudly. And then...dammit! Normally it's not that big of a deal - just get the flashlight and head downstairs to change the fuse, right? Nope. Not in the Murphy's law world that has become Shermie's new world. No spare fuses left. Also, none of the fuses are marked well, if at all, and that makes it a bit difficult to know which one needs to be changed - at least not to my untrained, red, itchy, goobery and now swollen shut eyes. Crap!!! So I run to the grocery store (yes they have fuses by the batteries and stuff) but of course I buy the wrong kind and being on the second floor is no favor to my obese BMI when trudging up and down the stairs to see if the fuse I had just changed was the "one" - and throughout all of this drama, I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING!!! Well, the fuse that blew also took out the use of my landline phone and of course I haven't paid my cell phone bill in forever, so I can't use that. I trudge downstairs to my neighbors to borrow the phone. She is not in a good mood but she has teenage girls so I can understand that; plus I think she was hungover from the last bender. She hands me a cell phone and I trudge back upstairs. The emergency guy answers and asks what number can I be reached at? I hem and haw and then admit that I just don't know. Can I call him back? Back downstairs to Crabbier-than-Me-Even, who writes down the number for me. Eventually I talk to my landlord. Normally (due to the convenience of having people come fix stuff without it really costing me) I love renting and highly recommend it, but they can't get anyone out here until morning. You mean - I have to brush my teeth in the dark? Well, luckily I have a very strong familiarity with where my teeth are...but I'm more worried about having to move my alarm clock to the hallway outside my bedroom? Yikes - I have a dr. appt tomorrow (OB/GYN - lucky me! - more on that tomorrow...maybe.)

So currently I am finished with work, my eyes are blind, and I have to go fumble through the bathroom to get ready for bed, which I actually am looking forward to some sleep, and peace I hope. Some day I will tell you about my dream life though - it is very often more exciting than my awake life!

I know it doesn't seem like much to people who juggle work, cooking, family, errands, blah blah blah...but come on, I am striving for mundane here. I guess I can always hope for a dream about...well...sleep.

Sayonara - more tomorrow!

Mary Tyler Moore

Wednesday mornings were different from other mornings. The owners of the restaurant we worked at came in for meetings, so some of our opening chores were put off, like vacuuming. Jeff and I worked the mornings just about every day together, so it didn’t take long for us to get the restaurant ready to open for the hectic lunches that occurred daily. We were fortunate to work in a very nice, well-known and well-liked place that was busy almost all the time – lunch, dinner, weekends – and it was one of the “places to be seen.” We attracted celebrities regularly, mostly of the sports variety, which was a lot of fun for me, but also actors, politicians, and yes, even a Miss America (who by the way was later dethroned, hint…hint).

So, there we were, my cohort Jeff and I, all ready to go with still another 1/2 hour or so before opening the doors and welcoming the masses…what to do? We were bored, and let’s face it, we know that idle minds are the devil’s workshop.

We wandered around for a while, chit chatting about this or that, double checking the silverware, glassware, and did we have enough iced tea prepared? Sure we did. Well let’s wander on up to the reservation book, shall we? Let’s flip through it…nothing too exciting. We would change all that. “Let’s make up a reservation!”

We sat across from each other recalling this story over lunch 20+ years later. Of course it was a major story in both of our minds and we laughed and laughed as if we had pulled off the biggest bank heist of all times, especially since nobody ever found out it was just little ole us…

I had said, “Let’s put down Robert Redford!” Of course everyone would be excited about that, am I right ladies?

“Too obvious,” is how Jeff described my selection. “Let’s use Mary Tyler Moore!” Mary Tyler Moore? Don’t we want people to actually care about this reservation? His little face was very excited though, so that’s what we went with…after flipping ahead about 2 months into the future, we carefully wrote “M T Moore, 4 – ***VIP***” in the 7 p.m. slot. If we made it for 5 or more people, then we had to get a phone number, so four it was! Hee hee, we giggled, just so very proud of ourselves, and off we went to await the chance to fill water glasses, bring bread and clear plates from the tables. By the end of the day, we had completely forgotten about the reservation that, in my mind, nobody would really care about anyway…

Fast forward about 6-7 weeks…approximately 1 or 2 weeks prior to the date of our visit from Mary Tyler Moore, or should I say, the results of our boredom. Life went on as usual, but there were murmurings and stirrings…

Now at this stage of the story, Jeff and I have varying memories; let’s just say the journey may have been different, but the results were very much the same.

All the whispering made Jeff and I start to squirm just a bit, but we also figured it would all pass by…all these whisperings and murmurs were about Mary Tyler Moore!!! Oh…my…gosh.

I should point out that one of the owners of this particular restaurant is a well-known sports figure who happened to work at one of the largest radio stations in town at that time. One of the rumors I later heard was that our boss’s boss (the owner of the radio station) wanted to know why in the world was MARY TYLER MOORE coming to our city for no other reason than to eat at this particular restaurant??? Of course he had no answer… oops.

Thanking my lucky stars, I worked during the lunch shift on THE BIG DAY and hightailed it out of there before any suspicions arose and the truth was revealed. Jeff says he worked that night, but I remembered us both being off…I guess he would know, so we’ll go with his version.

Of course, Mary Tyler Moore, America’s sweetheart and the All-American girl herself, was a no-show. Uh oh.

I didn’t need Jeff working that night to tell me that the managers, who had all arranged to be there to greet Miss Moore, were HOT, as in under the collar, fuming, P-I-S-S-E-D, to say the least. So…it was not easy, as I do not possess a poker face, but it was necessary to save my job (and possibly my life) to pretend to be shocked that anyone would do such a thing! I mean…really!!!

The managers didn’t want to let this go – they were determined to get to the bottom of this mystery and somebody was going to pay…holy crap. So, when asked, I replied brilliantly with the best lie of my life, “It must have been Fred.” Poor Fred – it wasn’t fair, but he had already been fired about a week before, so no harm, right? I was not comfortable and couldn’t believe that we had gotten in so deep…it was important that Jeff and I stuck together with our stories though, which we did. Whew. So, get this, handwriting analysts were called in! The hostesses and wait staff had to submit samples, but lucky for us, we were lowly bus persons…no suspicion fell directly on us! The perpetrators were not discovered!!! Yahoo!

As happy and relieved as I was, I must admit the guilt over the years really got to me. I looked up to my managers at that time…I was just a young high school graduate who loved my job and respected authority, especially Lou, the manager who had taken a big chance and hired me as the first busgirl the restaurant had ever had. I worked hard not to let him down, so if HE were to find out, I would be devastated.

Now in our early 40s, Jeff and I discussed the idea of going back to visit our old bosses and friends that were still around at the restaurant. Someday perhaps we would actually go eat and have someone bring us bread, refill our water, and clear our plates! “How exciting!” we decided.

That evening finally arrived. Jeff wanted to clear the air with Lou, who would be there to greet us…the thought nearly sent me into cardiac arrest, or perhaps more accurately a major bout of hyperventilation…NO NO NO. He even joked about making the reservations under the name “MT Moore” which under any other circumstance I would’ve thought was hilarious, but not in this case.

When we finally arrived, Lou greeted us and it was so wonderful to see him and give him a big hug…he was such an important person in my life at a time when I really needed someone like him to give my personality a chance to blossom, which working there definitely did. Jason, one of our former fellow bus persons, is now a manager there and also was there to welcome us. We did some quick catching up, and then Lou had to leave. After a very nice dinner and a bottle of wine, Jeff was able to convince me that we should tell Jason it was us.
I was very reluctant, so I downed a beer to help me figure out what to do. I sauntered over to where Jeff was talking to the young female bartender – I mean it was JEFF after all…he has not changed one bit in all these years. So as I walked up, she asks me, “Do you think Jason will tell Lou?” What the ???? JEFFFFFF… why can’t you keep your trap shut? Oh it was all unraveling.

As of today, when I finally got the nerve to ask Jason, “Say, not a big deal Jase (cough, cough), but did you ever mention that whole Mary Tyler Moore fiasco to Lou?” Of course, I played it down to as low of a level as I could muster…

Jason says, “Not yet…”
Hmm. The saga continues.

Meet Shermie...

It’s me, Shermie! I hope this day finds you doing well!

I will tell you a little about me…I am 42 years of age, single, and considered by my latest Body Mass Index to be obese. I live a pretty average life, although in my mind I am SO much more and even though I’m over 40, I still feel I am destined for greater things. Sometimes I think I’m still in my 20s with my whole future ahead of me, and that’s the way I act and think. There have to be millions of other people out there of all ages who still think their best days are ahead of them, wouldn’t you agree?

Things here are the usual weirdness and “mellow chaos” that is my life. Of course the car I just bought from those squirrely dudes down at that car dealership is starting to show its true colors. So much for trying to support local small businesses. Luckily I haven’t really needed the air conditioner too much lately, but my driver’s side window is now getting stuck – unfortunately only in the DOWN position!! I can’t believe it. So anyway, I get home from the part-time job the other day (more on that in a minute) and of course my window won’t go up. I know what you’re thinking – why do you keep putting it down? Well, that would be a good question. Let’s just move on from that. Okay – I forget sometimes and automatically hit the switch to lower it. When I do remember, I have tried having the sunroof, passenger side window and back seat windows on both sides rolled down and then I feel stupid because MY window is still rolled up. It looks stupid. I guess I would look more stupid driving home in a downpour with my window down, though, wouldn’t I? Hmm…good thought. I should just get that air conditioning checked out…I say I haven’t needed it, but haven’t I really?

So back to my original story. I was inside working in my office when I thought to myself, “I’d better go try to roll my window up before it gets dark.” If I give it a little time, it will usually work again. So out the door I go, after waddling with my creaky knees and sore hip down my zillion steps. What is this on my front door? Why, it looks legal. My neighbors have one too. We live in a duplex. I’ll get it when I come back up from fixing my car window. Luckily that didn’t give me too much grief…after a little maneuvering of the button, the window reluctantly went back up. So let’s check out this paper.
It looks as though the owners of my building have been slacking on their payments, so some type of measure is being taken – you know I don’t get one little iota of legal-speak. Not one. I did see one word – FORECLOSURE – which sort of jumped out at me…yikes! Wait – they just passed a law protecting renters from landlords who don’t pay their mortgages, so I should be okay. I will call my property manager in the morning to see what’s up, right? She didn’t know. I faxed her the legal looking papers. I am telling myself that I am NOT going to have to try to move 4 cats and myself with no money somewhere within 90 days. I have not heard back from her, but it’s the July 4 holiday, so probably she’s busy. And no news is good news…?

Where would I go? Don’t know. I’ll keep you posted on that.

So back to my part-time job. It is such an interesting place for me to be working. I am definitely in the minority as far as the liberal/conservative opinions go, but it’s not something you can really ask people about. Tracy, the person I work most closely with, is clearly on a different page from me as far as politically and otherwise, but luckily we can laugh it off most of the time if any type of discussion arises. For example, this one that happened the other day…I am sitting at my cubicle working away, focused and basically happy. I hear from her cubicle next to me, “I am going out on a limb and saying that Pooh is gay.” Well, okay. I felt compelled to go see what triggered such an outburst. She is searching for decorations for her new baby’s nursery, which I will go out on a limb and say Winnie the Pooh style is not an option.

She continued on about how much of a wuss (sp?) Pooh is. I said, “How can you hate Pooh? He’s all about peace and love.”

“RIGHT!” was her response. “I just don’t get his world of all sparkles and sunshine.” Oh boy. Even though I have learned her husband is a rootin’ tootin’ member of the NRA and RNC, and knowing that she grew up in Kentucky, a more conservative-leaning state, I was still taken aback by the hostility! She is very funny, and even though I don’t agree with her anti-peace and love attitude, she is really pretty cool. She goes on to tell me the story of taking her 2-year-old junior NRA member son to Disney (I don’t remember which one so I’ll leave it at Disney). She said they had made reservations for breakfast but when they got to the specific restaurant she asked for, they said she was signed up for a different restaurant and they couldn’t accommodate her at this particular venue (I’m thinking it was pirates and stuff like that)… of course she asked where WERE they supposed to be?

Unfortunately, the response had to do something with Winnie the Pooh. She made them acutely aware of her feelings for Pooh, exclaiming to them, “I hate Pooh! Why would I make a reservation there? I’d rather take my son to see princesses and fairies!” Needless to say, they were taken to a table right away. Yikes! I mean, I hate that little toilet paper bear and the little bear from the fabric softener sheets, but they aren’t Winnie the Pooh! I mean, what about “The Tao of Pooh”? It's a book about getting through life as Pooh does, simply and peacefully. I have it (somewhere but can't find it) and I would take it in to show her but I’m afraid that with her world views, book burning is still encouraged. The humor brings us together though. I suggested perhaps she would like Pooh more if she knew that he is an active NRA member? She basically said he’d have to be, but that it still wouldn’t probably work.

Now I am 42 years old and still learning about people and how they tick. I am in a place where I get frustrated with people with opposing views than mine, but I try to keep my mind open enough to understand where they are coming from – does that make sense? It’s a difficult place to exist, but it’s necessary so that I don’t become too closed minded but also to not be a doormat. In this situation, be sure to learn as many proven facts as possible about as many of your passionate topics as possible. Knowledge is power...that is my advice for the day.

Here’s another story along those same lines that confuses me a little. You may or may not know this, but my brother is Catholic. He hasn’t been all of his life, but he is now. So the other day the news about Michael Jackson is just starting to spread like wildfire and he calls to see if I’d heard the news. I said, “Yes!” and he continued on to say that now Michael Jackson has to stand in front of Jesus and answer questions about what he did to those little boys. Whoa...my first thought was to say, “Well it’ll be a while with all those priests lined up in front of him…” but instead of that I went with, “Doesn’t he have to check in with that dude at the gates?” He said, “You mean Peter?” but he said it as if I were a complete ingrate. I said, “Yeah, Peter – I guess I won’t do well on my test.” He said, “No.” I said, “I’m going to ask Peter, didn’t you sing Puff the Magic Dragon?” and then my brother said he had to go and get the groceries inside. He sounded as if he couldn’t believe he had actually called me in the first place, even though we get along just fine when I’m not dogging his religion. I respect my brother's right to believe what he believes, I really do. Anybody who finds strength and peace through whatever means, I'm all for it. Just please don't judge me because I don't believe what you believe.

That’s what I don’t get – why is it when people find religion and talk about Jesus, they usually become exactly the opposite of what Jesus was supposed to represent? My brother generally tries not to become judgmental, but I believe his religion encourages him to. Wasn’t Jesus about love, tolerance, acceptance and turning the other cheek? Why then, when people “accept Jesus into their lives as their Lord and Savior” do they become judge and jury in the trial of life? Anyone who doesn’t believe what they believe or follow their particular faith is a degenerate. I’m not just talking about Baptists, Christians, Catholics or really any particular religion, but just ORGANIZED religion, I guess… any ideas on this topic? I welcome them.

So I am following this weight loss program that I ordered after I heard and read some good things about it. Umm…I just ordered the 2-week plan for a boost to get started on losing weight and giving up my Obese status on the BMI index. I am on day 3. I liked it because it is basically easy – they provide 5 small meals (oatmeal, bars, shakes, etc) and I only have to fix ONE meal. I like that ratio. Except that one meal is becoming a real problem for me. I only have to fix a little piece of meat and something green. It’s hard for me. I am not able to do much in my little kitchen that becomes hotter than hell in the summer. I keep telling myself I would do better if I had more room to move around, but I guess I don’t know if that’s true. I think it is though. So anyway, I’m only on day 3 and this has become a stressor in my life. I just need to start walking again, but between my knee and my hip, I have pain…I just have pain. I am really even sitting here writing this to you with my whiny face on, racked with pain.

Welcome to Shermie's world!