CONFESSIONS OF A FAT GIRL

A Scene at CVS

It is true I have a profound and long-running love/hate relationship with CVS. As such, I knew I had to call to ensure my prescription was ready and waiting for me. It is not wise to make assumptions with their brain trust.

Me: Hello, you texted me that my prescription was ready and I just want to make sure that's correct. 

Pharmacist: Ok, may I please have your full name and date of birth?

I give her this information. She puts me on hold but only briefly.

Pharmacist: Yes, it's here. 

Me: Great! Thanks. I'll be in today to pick it up. What did you say your name was?

She told me her name. Let's just call her Phoebe the Pharmacist. I'm not going to be her fan club President anytime soon but I wouldn't ever use someone's real name in a post like this. :) 

A couple hours later in the store, I get to the front of the line. 

Me: Hi, picking up for Feuerman?

Pharmacist: Ok, hold on.... 

Me: Oh! Are you Phoebe?

Pharmacist: Yes.

Me: Oh great! We spoke on the phone.

Phoebe has zero reaction to this. She pushes several keys on the computer and then looks through some prescriptions on a shelf. She returns...

Phoebe: I'm sorry, we don't have anything for you.

Me: But we spoke on the phone about two hours ago and you said it was ready.

Phoebe: I did?

Me: Yes.

Phoebe: Oh. Well, we don't have anything for you. 

Me: Ok. Can you fill the prescription right now? 

Phoebe: We reshelved it because you hadn't picked it up yet.

Me: I understand that and that's also why I called you this morning to say I was coming in soon to get it.

Phoebe: Would you like me to just fill it right now?

At this point I look around. First, to make sure there aren't any hidden cameras and second, to see if anyone is witnessing this.

Me: Yes, that would be great. How long will it take?

Phoebe: Ten minutes. 

I go sit down. Less than ten minutes goes by and I SWEAR TO YOU, I get a text message FROM CVS that my prescription is ready. I very nearly called them to verify it, just to be a dick. 

The Phoebe called out "Prescription for Feuerman?"

Me: Right here! Thank you. 

Phoebe: That is $15. Thank you for waiting. 

Me: Ok.  How long do you guys usually hold prescriptions for once you've texted the customer? Just so I know for next time?

Phoebe: Usually 14 days but it's also helpful if you call us ahead of time and tell us you're coming. So we can make sure it's here. 

Me: Thanks for that great advice. 

I left feeling as if I'd just lost a boxing match. 

See also: I'm Ranty About CVS Receipts

Misadventures In Cleaning Up Spilled Soup

Last night, I couldn't help but think of "The Mustard Incident" as I flat out LAUGHED AT MYSELF.

I was on my way home from a late meeting and realized it was nearing 8 PM and I'd not had dinner yet. I had zero desire to cook (this is usually the case) and felt like some good, comforting soup would be the perfect, easy meal because I suspected I'd be in bed not long after (this did not turn out to be the case because I ultimately had to do some more work).

I stopped at my local supermarket for a container of "to go" soup. There wasn't a lot left but I settled on tomato, which is always a go-to for comfort food, right? I grabbed that and some Triscuits, which would have been it, but at the self check-out area, there was a display of all the Coca-Cola products that now come in those little aluminum bottles. I thought back to a couple weekends ago when I felt a little nauseous and wished I'd had some Sprite in the house -- so I grabbed a couple aluminum bottles of Sprite. 

The drive home from the market is very short and again, I was very tired. I put my grocery bag up front with me, on the passenger seat, held tight by my heavy purse next to it. 

When I got home and unloaded my bag, I was upset to see a small puddle of tomato soup on my passenger seat. I lifted my reusable grocery bag over my head (you know, so the soup could drip onto my face - I was HANGRY) but couldn't even figure out where the leak was coming from. 

Then sank in my utter anger and I'm not gonna lie - I burst into tears. I love my car and I take pretty good care of it so this just devastated me. Compounded by tiredness and what not, I just cried. 

I went to my trunk to see if I had a towel or something - I did not. I thought about the kleenex in my purse -- useless for this. It would soak up nothing. BUT WAIT! I had it. An emergency maxi pad I threw in the glove box like three months ago and forgot about. I mean... they're absorbent, right? If nothing else, it's what they're for, right? 

On top of which, I realized I had the Sprite! Which is totally like seltzer. And that removes stains... I'm such a genius. My car would be clean in a jiffy. 

So.... enter one of my neighbors, walking up from their own car, and there I am. Purse and groceries on the ground, me bent over into the car, using a dab of Sprite and giving my front seat a gentle pat down with a maxi pad. Frankly, I'm surprised she only paused for a moment and kept going. I would have instagrammed a photo.

You can laugh, but when I got into my car this morning, nary a stain could be seen. 

I AM JUST LIKE MARTHA STEWART.

A Passive Aggressive Letter To My Next Door Neighbor

Hey there.... dude. 

Yeah. About that, DUDE. I apologize but I don't know your name. Remember that time I tried to walk up to you in the hall but you went right past me? I was going to ask your name then but I'm sure you just had somewhere to be. No worries. There was also that time I said "Hi, you know...." which was going to to turn into "we haven't been introduced yet!" but you kept walking then, too. I get it, you are obviously very busy and important. (Even though I don't know very many busy and important men over 30 who wear Green Hornet tees and cargo shorts with holes in them. But hey, you gotta go with what works for you.) 

In any case, my man, I just wanted to say thanks for keeping me up last night. I mean, I had been out all day with friends and was pretty tired. You know, sometimes on Sunday nights I can be pretty lazy, but thanks to you, I was forced to stay up pretty late and watch TV and get work done! YES! Going to bed early or on time is overrated anyway, right? I certainly wouldn't want to get get in the way of your need to build furniture at 11:00 at night. Not at all. I can't think of a better time to do it anyway. It wasn't that bad when you started hammering and the way my wall vibrated when you used the power drill was practically therapeutic, so KUDOS, guy. Well done. I'm sure whatever IKEA  purchase you made looks GREAT paired with the video game chair Amazon delivered last week. (You remember, it sat out in the hall for a couple days before you dragged it inside.)

It's really terrific you like video games. Since I don't own a console, at the volume you play Guitar Hero in the evenings, I really get to feel like I do own an XBOX every now and then and it really saves me from feeling left out on life. It's a good thing you like that one heavy metal song so much - it's allowed me to really memorize the GOOD AND LOUD parts super well. 

Also? That time I passed you in the hall when I was carrying my heavy laundry basket and said "so sorry, excuse me," but you didn't let me by? Totally forgiven. I mean, no biggie. So what if we were both heading to our neighboring apartments and you took the long way around to avoid me? I appreciate that sometimes a guy just wants a little solitude over the pressures of being chivalrous. 

Don't worry, a lot of the other neighbors have told me you're a loner and a little weird and someone even had the audacity to tell me about this one time when you left your wet laundry in three washing machines overnight leaving the laundry room to smell a little moldy, but I don't pay that much attention to gossip. Even when the sweet old lady down the hall with the hip problem told me about the time you wouldn't help her bring a heavy package into her apartment so she gave up trying to get to know you -- well, I just told her I wouldn't pass judgement until I got to know you. Which may be never but whatevs, right? 

Anyway, just wanted to say "hey" and wish you the best. I look forward to the next time you burn something and wake me with the fire alarm at 2 AM. It's always good to practice what I'll do in an emergency.

HUGS!

AJ

Five Other Places Luke Bryan Should Fall

It's probably a little demented that I spent as much time as I did on this post. 

But Luke Bryan, the sexiest man in country music (People Magazine said so, and I agree), gets pretty excited when he's shaking his fabulous hips on stage. And sometimes he falls. 

I made a compilation video to demonstrate. 

 

I feel kinda bad for Luke, though. I think maybe he needs our help. It can't be much fun falling off a stage like that so I made him a list. 

1. Into this PILE OF PUPPIES. 

 

I think they'd get out of the way and then it would be nothing but puppy cuddles. Amiright? Who's down for this?

2. Onto this lovely bed and the accompanying pile of pillows.

We'll rustle someone up to cuddle with you. Not to worry.

3. Right into this pool. Preferably without a shirt.

 

Sigh. Fresh out of the pool Luke is my favorite Luke. 

4. Fall is coming - how about a big pile of leaves? 

I'm from SoCal but I hear this is a good time.

5. You knew this was coming. MY LAP.

Fall away. You're welcome, Luke Bryan.

The 7 Stages of Waiting On Hold For the Los Angeles DWP

As I am now in the process of moving, there are boxes to pack, things to throw away, stuff to sell and, above all, PHONE CALLS. Just endless, endless phone calls. 

Cancelling this, activating that, arranging things.... I know everyone says moving sucks. I realize now how true it is. (I'm still excited but just.... PHONE CALLS!) 

I'm a good project manager and got right on it. I threw on the headset and prepared myself for copious hours of shitty hold music and inadequate customer service representatives. 

But in the end, nothing - NOTHING - could have prepared me for the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. 

 

STAGE ONE: THE DIAL

At this point, it could still go well. This could very well be your lucky day! You might get through and find to your surprise there is very little hold time. BOOM! DONE! You are the QUEEN OF GETTIN' SHIT DONE. You are organized, you are STRONG! Suck it, naysayers. 

STAGE TWO: TALK TO THE VOICE

You really prefer to punch in your answers - one for "yes," two for "no" - because you're not in your own room right now and the last thing you need is everyone hearing you talk at the operator voice in the phone. But it's technology and stuff so you'll play along. Even if you have to repeat yourself a couple times.

It's okay, though, because you are totally awesome about STAYING CALM. 

STAGE THREE: NOT SO CALM NOW

You've recited your zip code at least three times and the voice tells you the hold time might be more than 30 minutes. Your blood boils but a few deep breaths later it's all good. There's no way it's really going to take 30 minutes. That's insane. That's forever. And this hold music is pretty terrible SO HELP ME GOD.... 

But no. It's fine. 

STAGE FOUR: 35 MINUTES ON HOLD

"Your call is very important to us. Please continue to hold; your call will be answered in the order it was received."

Fuck you.

"Your call may be recorded for quality assurance."

I hate you. 

STAGE FIVE: MY LIFE IS OVER

The world is a cold, dark place where there is only the toxic sound of soul-crushing hold muzak and the VOICE that occasionally chimes in with facts about the DWP and requests to keep holding. It tells you they have things on their website that can help. You check the website. There is nothing. You are stranded in the desert without water. With muzak. You will never hear anything else EVER AGAIN. 

 STAGE SIX: ONE HOUR ON HOLD, PRAYING FOR SWEET RELEASE 

Your cell battery is down to 30% and you're starting to panic that no one will EVER. PICK. UP. EVER. AGAIN. You will die on this hold, but that's okay because at least then it will be over. But it's been an HOUR and how much longer COULD IT POSSIBLY BE? Surely someone is about to pick up. Any second now. C'mon, guys.... 

Someone will tell you to give up. "Call back at an obscure hour." "Try again," they'll say.

DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND??? I CAN'T STOP NOW. I'VE INVESTED TOO MUCH OF MY TIME.

No going back.

STAGE SEVEN: GO TOWARD THE LIGHT

An hour and 47 minutes later... "Los Angeles DWP, thank you so much for holding, how may I help you today?"

No sentence has ever made you happier in your entire life. You can breathe again. You can feel feelings and sing songs. You will live to see another sunrise. 

And really, was it so bad? I mean, you put it on speaker and got lots of work done while you waited.... 

Tomorrow? The cable company.

But Can I Pick My Own Shoes?

Not so very long ago, I was shopping at The Grove, a large outdoor shopping complex here in Los Angeles. I don't remember what I bought or what stores I went into but I recall that I kept seeing this young mother and her daughter, who was probably about four. I just kept running into them -- you know what I mean? It just happens. It's one of those things.

The first time I saw them, the mother was holding her daughter's hand on her left and holding her cell phone up to her ear on the right. They were heading into Anthropologie and I noticed them right away because the little girl had on these really cute, bright Converse sneakers. Converse sneakers are especially adorable in miniature sizes, I think. And the little girl also looked particularly pouty, as if mom had dragged her against her will to the shops that day. Which I'm sure was the case. 

I saw them again as I was heading toward the Mac store. They were sitting by The Grove's central fountain, where many people gather to sit for a spell. The mother was putting the sneakers back onto the little girl's feet. She was throwing an absolute fit about it. I gathered from eavesdropping that basically, the little girl did not want to wear her shoes anymore because she'd wanted to wear her Uggs that day. But mom explained she didn't have her Uggs anymore -- she had ruined them in some kind of mud-related disaster and mom had thrown them away. 

I sensed this was not going to end well and I felt myself getting angry. I am not a mother myself, of course, and I have a very low threshold for this stuff. I start to plan in my head what I would do in such a situation but just get increasingly annoyed by the entire thing... Anyway, I went to buy some makeup sponges or something -- I really do not remember. 

But I saw them one more time. Well, twice, in fact. About a half hour later in Nordstom. First in the bathroom, where the little girl was standing in a corner, waiting for her mom, who was using a bathroom stall. She was in her socks. She was cradling a doll and seemed in much higher spirits than the last two times I'd seen her. She ran back and forth a bit - she liked that she could slide on the floor in her socks. She smiled at me now, sort of proud, as if she recognized me and recognized that I knew she'd won her shoe battle.

And yet it wasn't even over yet. Because not long after the socks-in-the-bathroom tragedy, (I mean, really? GROSS, right?) I saw them in the shoe department. Buying a small pair of Uggs. 

I don't know who annoyed me more this day. The bratty child who wanted to wear Uggs in 85 degree weather and clearly had the upper hand in her relationship with mom. Or the mom, who, I felt, was failing all over the place... Should she have brought her precocious child to The Grove that day? Dragged her from store to store? Let her run around in socks when she decided she hated her shoes? Bought her a brand new pair? 

I realize that, first off, I do not know every single detail of their story. I can only recount to you what I observed, overheard, and surmised. And I know it is far easier for me to judge a parent when I do not have any children myself. So I guess that is why I'm sharing the entire thing with all of you. I would love to hear (well, read) what you think about all this psychology. 

Of course, it may also just be as simple as "if the shoe fits...." 

Sorry I Had Sex on Your Bed: And Other Tear-Out Apologies -- And it's a Giveaway!

From the makers of the infamous Sex Position Coloring Book comes a new batch of.... honest literature. 

Ever wanted to find the right thing to say only to be left tongue-tied? Ever wanted so badly to tell someone where they can take their bad attitude but just too afraid to let it out?

Ever tweeted something like this?

I would like to start carrying post its with YOU ARE NOT A COMPACT VEHICLE pre-written on them.

— AJ (@AmandaJoy) March 14, 2014

Well how excited was I that Ulysses Press sent me these for review. GENIUS.

Sorry I Had Sex on Your Bed: And Other Tear-Out Apologies for Your Awkward Screwups is a hilarious collection of snarky mea culpa cards to be torn out and given to wronged friends, coworkers, and family members. It includes gems such as “I’m sorry I tried to spice things up without asking first" and these modern day predicament solutions:

Seriously?! Delightfully Passive Aggressive Cards is a perfectly brazen collection of cards designed to be left for roommates, frenemies, coworkers, strangers, and neighbors who’ve Gone. Too. Far. Examples: “Maybe tomorrow I could pet your elephants? Love, Your downstairs neighbor” and “Touch my lunch again and I’ll cut you.” (I think that will totes make me friends at the office.)

This one was my favorite....

You’re Cute: Cards to Break the Ice is a witty collection of cards to capture the attention of someone new. Favorites include “This is me flirting with you...” and “It was either this or a Missed Connection.” I should probably carry this with me at all social outings. It might serve me better than standing in the corner nursing a dirty martini....

I've saved the best for last though. 

Parking Tickets: For Those Who’ve Crossed the Line is a superb collection of snarky cards for drivers of badly parked cars. Try “I used to park like this. Then I turned 6” or “Hope you’re better between the sheets than you are between the lines.”

Well you know I had to try at least one of these books out, so I did. This one. The other night when a massive truck parked so close to my car I had to climb into my seat from the passenger side. But not before this:

BOOM. 

And you know I wasn't letting this go without a giveaway. The world must know they suck at parking or have sex too loudly next door. I want to share these books with all of you. Enter for a chance to win below!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Disclosure: Product was provided for review. Opinions were provided by me. 

Six Reasons Why I Love Anne Hogan

I apologize for my brief absence. I got slapped in the face - quite literally, in fact - with a sinus infection. You know it's bad because I TOOK A DAY OFF FROM WORK. I get sinus infections all the time and that never happens. But I spent a good, long day curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. Watching "Shark Tank" reruns.

Actually, it wasn't such a bad day. But I digress... The point is, I've procrastinated blogging and need to get back into the rythm of it. 

But what to write? 

Today I posted...

 

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

 

1. Her taste in clothing is impeccable. She owns cat-pants and a "Sharknado" t-shirt. And we all know how I LOVE me some "Sharknado." 

THIS IS A REAL PHOTO PEOPLE. She totally owns this outfit. She wore those pants when we saw Miley Cyrus in concert. 

This is what she wore on New Year's Eve. You can totally see why she's my girl-crush, right?

Four words: LIGHT UP HAIR BOW. (I have one, too. Those also made an apparance at Miley.)

2. We share a love of SHOUTY CAPS.  

NO! I MUST BE ABLE TO EXPRESS MYSELF!!! RT @Anne_Hogan: So, @AmandaJoy and I probably need to have our caps lock privileges revoked.

— AJ (@AmandaJoy) March 6, 2014

3.  I love her pets. I spent the better part of New Year's Eve asleep on her living room floor with one or both of them sleeping on my head or tush, so we're pretty close friends. 

They also make excellent fashion choices. (Well, Anne makes them.)

Look how obviously THRILLED they are!  (Use of shouty caps intentional here.)

When she talks in her dog voice (cause she totally has one), I giggle every time. 

4. We're both pretty obsessed with TNT's "Private Lives of Nashville Wives." You have to be watching this. It's COMPELLING television.

 

5. Her love of Zachary Quinto. As he is a member of the Star Trek lexicon, I appreciate this about Anne on many levels. He may be a Menday someday but until then, enjoy this:

6. Our Target outing. The first of many, I hope. We spent one very glamorous Saturday night having dinner at Claim Jumper and buying useless clearance items at Target. I came home with a birthday card (it was funny, someone will appreciate it), bobby pins, a $5 blu-ray, chocolate and a couple other unmentionables. We came home to watch the Miley Unplugged MTV special and talk to each other on our laptops like the super grown ups we are.

* * * *

And there you have it. If that doesn't say "hetero lifemate," then I don't know what does. You have all the essentials - pets, fashion, hot guys.... What more do you need?

Anne, you will have to let me know how I did. 

To the rest of you, thank you for indulging me. I hope you giggled at least once. I promise regular blogging will resume shortly. ;)