Get out of my bubble!

Well first of all, I must admit it is very rude of us not to have posted any observations of rude behavior in almost a whole month!! What's going on? Has the world suddenly become a kinder, gentler, and more considerate place? Or have the masses started reading this blog and seen the error of their ways?

Hmm... doubtful. More likely we authors have just been too busy and too lazy to post (respectively - I'm the lazy one).

So now, I give you my bubble story.

I was standing in line at Subway last week when another woman got in line behind me. Once I got to the counter I could feel her presence. As I moved down the counter to have ingredients added to my sammy she was literally standing just inches to my left. If we'd been outside she would've been in my shadow. She wasn't touching me, but if I leaned just so, she would have been.

I just don't understand this. Was she trying to get closer to her sandwich? Was she trying to figure out the best way to steal my purse? Did she just like the way I smelled? (I do bathe every day!)

I get that not everyone requires a three-foot bubble around their person in order to feel comfortable, and some people have no need for "personal space" at all. But why not err on the side of caution, and take a step back to ensure another person's comfort? Besides, you never know if they'll be wearing dirty undies that day... (No, I wasn't!)

I admit that sometimes when this happens to me I move my purse around just enough to nudge the offender with it, you know, to let them know they're a TAD close. Not very polite, and I do save that for extreme situations. (Although, in extreme situations the purse-nudge never works, but it does make me feel a tiny bit better.) Besides, this lady was rather diminutive and I probably would have gotten her right in the head. What do you think - is it acceptable/polite to ask someone standing in your "personal space" to move? How would you handle the situation? Have you ever asked someone to get out of your bubble?

-Kitty

One Spritz!!

I am gagging.

Until recently, I thought it was just men who had a hard time grasping the concept of cologne moderation. Then the Temp started here.

It's not every day, but at least once a week she breezes to her desk in a thick fog of perfume, leaving everyone gasping for air in her wake. Lucky me, I get to sit right across from her all day! She hasn't been here 15 minutes and I already have a headache. Plus, she has literally sprinted past me 4 times already. It's like she's trying to stir up a hurricane of her own stench.

Not that it makes a difference whether it's Designer Impostors or Chanel #5, but I must mention that her particular eau de toilet reminds me of someone's crazy, old Aunt Myrtle. It smells like a base of baby powder layered with herbs, and it is in no way pleasing to the nostrils. And trust me, it's even worse when you can taste it.

Therefore, I thought it my duty to get the word out: ONE spritz of perfume, please! I'm of the opinion that no one should be able to smell you unless they're close enough to hug you. Especially when people are forced to be around you all day (like at WORK, for example??). At home, you can bathe in it for all I care, but PLEASE consider others before subjecting the general public to your odor.

-Kitty

Kabuki Death Mask

I was on the dreaded lunch hour in need of some new face make-up. As I bobbed and weaved with the old-timers on the road to Macy's, I was excited at the prospect of some new make-up.

I confidently walked up to the Clinque counter. ( face make-up of choice) I didn't want to got to the MAC counter and come out looking like a middle aged stripper,and I felt I was just WAY to young for Lancome and besides Clinque has always been there for me.

I was greeted warmly by Juanita, she was pleasant and understanding and asked me lots of questions on what I was looking for. I thought, this is good, Juanita is older than me, she understands my needs more so than "Syndi" with and "i" would. As I was discussing what I look for in face make up ( eg: light, NEVER heavy, not trying to pretend I have perfect skin, just a touch of cover, with a hint of sunblock)Juanita thought this certain type of make up would work well for my needs and could she apply some to my face? SURE! Why not! OH LORD! Juanita broke out a PAINT BRUSH! ( if I am lying I am dying) and proceeded to dump about a 1/4 of a cup of make up on the back of her hand and started PAINTING it on my face! PAINTING PEOPLE! NOT JOKING! Oh, and she only did half my face! Half of my face looking like a beige tarp, and the other looked like a white and pink blotchy road map. OMG! WTF?

Being the nice person that I am, I couldn't hurt Juanita's feelings, she was SO proud. So I ask, "would you mind doing the other half".. ( FAMOUS LAST WORDS) she again, dumped about 1/2 a cup of make up on the back of her hand and proceed to PAINT the other half of my face. PEOPLE! MY LIPS WERE GONE! MY WRINKLES EMPHASIZED! I was an inch deep in Clinque makeup. Juanita, steps back looks at her handy work and asked if I wanted some lipstick! I quickly said NO! OH, HELL NO ( in my brain).

I quickly made my purchase ( YES! I BOUGHT THE CRAP), and realized I had to still go get lunch! Me and my KABUKI DEATH MASK had to walk through the mall to Subway. The poor kid at Subway he didn't know where to look. He took my order, refused to look me in the eye, but I don't blame him, how could he? I looked like a nut, one of those bag ladies with their make up all smeared on their face, all I needed was some lipstick in a shocking pink and I would have been committed.

With my head down, I ran out of the mall and to my car, called my friend and vented. I looked down at my cell phone it was COVERED in make up, still I swear there is make up on the keys of my phone. I looked in the mirror as I was driving and didn't recognize myself. Now I still had to walk into work! I walked as fast as I could to the bathroom, and got a real good look at Juanita's handy work! JEEZ JUANITA! Was your previous profession, painter. There wasn't enough toilet paper in the bathroom to get it off. I felt GROSS.

The best part is, I ask the guy at the front desk, if I look horrible with all that make up, and you know what he says? "Oh, it looks good". WTH? Men just don't understand.

-Katherine - wearer of the Kabuki Death Mask

The Red Zone is for Emergency Vehicles

Really, I am so sick of this whole age of entitlement. Is it everywhere, or does it just run rampant here in Southern California?

To the apparently able-bodied 30-something man driving the bright red sports car:

I don't care if you have 25 pieces of laundry to pick up from the dry cleaners. Hell, I don't care if you have 100 and you're missing both arms - which you clearly are not - you still don't have the right to park in the red zone.

Here's why:

1. This may come as a shock, but your car doesn't qualify as an "Emergency Vehicle."

2. Even if it did, picking up your dry cleaning doesn't count as an "Emergency."

*Sidenote - your hazard lights are for, you guessed it, hazards! They're not a free pass to park wherever you damn well please!

If the rest of us can park 30 feet away and carry our cleaning back to our cars (yes, sometimes in more than one trip), then so can you. Having money and driving a snazzy car doesn't make your dry cleaning pick-ups more urgent than anyone else's.

-Kitty

It's Okay to Say No

I am a fan of the Invitation. I like getting them, I like sending them, I like RSVPing and I like receiving RSVPs. Oh, and I LOVE making them.

Modern technology has really sprinkled a new flavor on invitations though, hasn't it? Personally, I still prefer a good old-fashioned paper invite, but you gotta love that you can send, receive and respond to an invitation via email, Evite, Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, blogs, personal web pages, and message boards in mere seconds! What could be easier, cheaper or more efficient?

That said, I've noticed that no matter how you send an invitation, many people are still loathe to RSVP. Especially when they intend to decline.

I regret to admit that there was a time in my life when I was one of those people. But since then I've learned the error of my ways, and having thrown a wedding and plenty of smaller shindigs since, I've come to embrace the awesome wonder of the RSVP.

How else can a host know how many bottles of champagne to buy? How many places to set at the table? How many pizzas to order? What's a girl to do when she sends an Evite and sees that several people have viewed the invitation, but two days before the party still haven't seen fit to respond? Honestly, it hurts a little! I mean, I assume that these people aren't coming, but a little confirmation to that effect would be nice. Not to mention it'll save me some money so I don't end up buying an extra twelve-pack, "just in case."

So with that, I'm officially giving everyone out there in this great, big internet of ours permission to SAY NO!

Say it loud and proud!

If you can't, or don't want to attend a party, just say no! You don't even have to make up an excuse!

It's okay if you don't want to go, just PLEASE, I'm begging you, give the host a heads-up so she doesn't wind up buying 6 tri-tips for 12 people!

Accepts with pleasure,

Kitty

How can a give a hint?

Things are going on in my personal world I can not control. But the one thing I can control is my time. What's the saying? " when the going gets tough the tough get going". Well, this little trooper curls up in a ball and quietly hibernates. But for some reason, there are people in the world that can not accept that. I know they mean well, I know they have nothing but good intentions for me. But I don't have the energy to entertain or hold a full conversation for that matter.

The people who truly know me, know that I will quietly turn to myself when the going does get tough. I can do short bursts. I can do long drawn out emails. No problem. I can solve your problems as well as the problems of the world. But don't ask me to make eye contact and co-miserate. I can't do that.

So, what sort of hint should I give? What would make this person give me some space? How can I just tell my friend, luv ya, but not now? I won't! I guess I am no good at giving hints, am I?


So, I will meet my friend on Sunday, and I will listen and she will advice and be my personal cheerleader, and ya know? I will probably be glad I went.

-Katherine

I had to giggle, just a little.

I am not too sure if I have expressed my total disappointment with my family member's when they leave an empty toliet paper roll in the bathroom. Many a time I have run into the bathroom, ready to do my business and there is no toliet paper left. Which leaves me screaming from upstairs for help and replacment paper. To which the response is a bunch of giggles.

I feel I am the only person in my household that this effects. I am not sure if they are even aware we run out of toliet paper. I am pretty sure my lovely younger daughter has resorted to using the toliet paper roll without any hesitation on her part. Like that would be the normal progression once the paper is gone. Now she is a teenager and would be mortified to no end that I am telling the world ( well, our loyal 12 followers) that she has used the brown tube as a form of toliet paper, but she has also fallen asleep on the toliet before so nothing surpirses me about her anymore!

But last night I had my sweet justice. My husaband and I were watching TV, and a shout came from above, "OH GOD! WE ARE OUT OF PAPER!"... I had a giggling fit, that quite possibly could have gone so far as to pee my pants! My Step-Daughter was in the bathroom with no toliet paper, and was threatening to use her father's boxers to wipe! ( he leaves his boxers on the bathroom floor, but that is a whole other post! You, my friends are going to have to wait for that one! ) As she was shouting, and my husabnd was ignorning, and I was giggling, nobody was going to her rescue. Then my husband turns to me and goes "I can't go up there"...not too sure about that reasoning, but he soon realized I wasn't going to go either. So finally, he got tired of her threats and caved in and gave her some toliet paper.

Maegen finally came out of the bathroom, grubling and complaining how wrong it is that someone used up all the paper and didn't replace it. I kept quite, secretly agreeing with her. Wondering if she will FINALLY understand?

Seriously, I am not hatin' on the old people.

Why is it that every AWESOME senior has to make their way about town when I am on my lunch hour?

I had some lunch hour errands to run and it left me little time for a nutricious meal, so I decided the quickest thing would hit a fast food resturant on my way back to work. I turn in and think to myself "COOL! Only one car in line!". JACKPOT! Or so I thought. Oh NO! It was a VAN LOAD of Sexy Seniors, who collectiavly have never entered a drive through before and this was like conquering Mt. Everst for them. As the leader of the Funky Bunch decided to take over their food ordering, he was yelling into the little box to a person on the other end, who let's just say, hasn't mastered the English Language yet, and my Sizzling Senior has also not mastered wearing his hearing aid. So the conversation was a little entertaining!

As Gramps kept trying to tell the man on the other end to wait. The employee couldn't understand Grandpa and kept saying "did you want to make that a combo?" as Gramps replyed " THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY WANT! WAIT A MINUTE" then the employe "You do want a combo?" and GRAMPS turns to the ladies in the car "GOD DAMN IT!"... this would all be pretty funny if I wasn't ON MY LUNCH HOUR! Then as I am thinking this display of total communication breakdown was ending. The side door of the mini van BUSTS open. The ladies in the back wanted to look at the menu better. So they look, the talk, they look again, they talk. They ordered a DIET PEPSI! Yes my friends, a SODA! All that for a soda.

Moral of the story, I hope I live long enough to drive someone else nuts!

-Katherine

It's Gross!

My place of work is professional. Jeans are NOT an option. Closed toe shoes are the norm. But there is always that one rogue in the bunch. That one person who shuns society. That introvert that hates all that is decent and proper. We are never postive who that person is, they cover their hatred for society so well.

But you ask me, how do I know I work with such a person? Let me tell you how I know! THE PHANTOM TURD! Yes my friends, a random turd found floating alone in a toliet bowl. As if left by some miricle of nature. Some random act of God himself. But we all know God has nothing to do with this. It's horrific, it's scary, it's GROSS! Somebody, convinced themselves that leaving a random, lonely turd in the toliet would somehow be OK. That nobody would be replused and totally mortified at the near sight of this thing.

When I came upon such item, I believe a noise not normally found in nature came out of my mouth. I was shocked! Mind you, I always look at and in a toliet before using. Not too sure why I do, I just do. Maybe it is the countless things on the internet that suggests I may get bit on the ass at one point in my life. But the internet did not prepare me for a floating, phantom turd.

After my intial shock of seeing a turd that 1) wasn't my own or 2) that didn't come from my offspring. I spoke outloud, "oh, I'll get it".. in a tone reserved for most teenagers when asked to get something for you. I know nobody heard me, but I needed to express my disqust one way or another. Because, here is the deleima. I couldn't leave it there. If the next person that comes in and had seen me walk out, I would be forever pegged as the PHANTOM TURD BANDIT. Then I would forever be doing the "walk of shame" from the bathroom each day, and people, I drink a lot of water!

Now, I look around for any shifty eyes, or suspicious actions. I will locate the Phantom Turn Bandit and maybe give them a quick lesson in the art of toliet flushing!

-Katherine, AKA "TURD BUSTER"

It finally happened.

I have been married to the same man for over 15 years. For those 15+ years we have been given little to no notice to family functions. Usually, it's a passing word of mouth from one cousin to another. Maybe asking, "will I see you this afternoon for so and so's party?". For years, I have tried to give sublte hints, requesting an invitation to these family EXTRAVAGANZAS. I have gone out of my way to send personal ivitations to each and every family memeber when I have an event. ( thank you cards as well) Most of the time, my husband's family couldn't grab a hint if I hit them with it. I have even gone to the extreme of not showing up. The funny thing is, some of my in laws, think telling ONLY one person about their party, means the rest of us will some how telepathically know when and where to show up and why we are even there.

But, it finally happened! Yesterday, I recieved a cute little inviation inviting me to our nephews party. It explained, when, where, and what time. It was wonderful. I beamed with pride. The spelling was correct (more pride!), it was age appropriate. It was perfect!

Now, I have no more excuses. I guess I better go!

If you want me to be there.......

Is it so incredible hard to give fair warning for a family event? I realize I won't be getting a formal invitation. I realize that I am probably one of the very last people on your list to be contacted. But giving me and my family a phone call in desperation that the "family event of the year" is happening in less then three hours and our being there is the very important, is just not right.

I wonder why my family acts so shocked when I arrive late and leave early? Are they that surprised I am not bringing any food to this function. Are they shocked when I don't help set up or clean up. I sure hope not. Because clearly everyone else got the memo to participate, just not us!

So going forward, if you want me and my family to be at any family function I am going to require some sort of notice. Our family is very busy! As all families are. Dropping everything we have to attend a party just isn't going to happen anymore!

( I will let you know how this works, August is a busy "family" month for us. Usually, we get a phone call at work telling us that there will be a family fiesta at 4pm that day! )

-Katherine

Two for Tuesday

Well, so much for the dry spell!

Seems like many of my rude encounters occur while I'm driving. This is not strange as I live in Southern California, the mecca for terrible drivers who think they are all EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD drivers.

I have come to the conclusion that there is a big problem in this area, and that problem is the overuse of horns. Within 10 minutes I experienced this phenomena twofold today:

1. Driving to a fast food joint I frequent on my lunch break, I went straight through a green light. A car driving toward me on the cross street failed to stop at his red light, and was turning right just as I was coming at him. I would have hit him, and he clearly wasn't paying attention to me, so I honked my horn. He hit the brakes, then laid on his horn and flipped ME the bird! What the...?

2. Leaving said fast food joint, I note that a big SUV has parked next to me and I couldn't see around it. (By the way, thank you kind driver, for parking your monstrosity in a compact spot!) I waited patiently as a couple cars went by before I started backing out. I went approximately 1 inch before seeing another car coming. I then stopped. AFTER I stopped, the lady driving the other car honked at me. Um, yes lady, I saw you! What other reason would I have for stopping??

So please, let's all do our part to stop the madness, and only use our horns when absolutely necessary! They are not meant to be weapons or audible expressions of our frustration, they're just supposed to help keep you and your car SAFE.

-Kitty

One Good Turn Deserves Another

So, hubby and I are on a hunt for a new car. We don't actually need a new one, so our "hunt" is more like a "browse," but we're planning this road trip in a couple months and since my car isn't very comfy and we would eventually like a four-door anyway, we figured why not do some shopping now? So far it's been pretty fun.

Well, yesterday we were at a local dealership checking out the Pontiac G8. (It's the one with a Corvette engine, woohoo!) The sales guy was friendly enough, although his thick accent prevented us from understanding literally half of what he said, and we took it out for a test drive. When we got back to the dealership we wanted to know about GM's special deals, so we went into the sales guy's office, where he proceeded to hit us with the "hard sell." We told him pointedly 1. We're not buying a car today, and 2. We're not trading in my car. But he kept pushing, so we stood up and headed out the first chance we got.

(This is where the rudeness comes in.)

So I was of course already irritated, and we were walking rather briskly to make our escape, when this girl's cell phone rang. She was standing near the door with what looked to be her dad, and without even glancing at the two people booking it in her direction 3 feet away, she answered her phone while turning around to also walk out the door. Only problem was, she walked right in front of ME, making me stop in my tracks so SHE could push through the door, never once looking up. She quickly muttered an, "Oh I'm sorry," when I made an exasperated sound, and then continued talking on her phone. (Not bothering to hold the door, might I add.)

So I replied, loudly enough for her to hear, "Yeah, you are sorry," followed through the door right on her heels, and kept walking.

Maybe not my finest moment, but I can't say she didn't earn it.

-Kitty Get-Outta-My-Way VonD

The Anti-Bridezilla

We are so excited to share our first Feature Writer post! Thanks, Allison!
(If you would like us to share yours, click the link to the right.)

I planned my wedding by myself. I didn't have many friends. My bridesmaids, such as they were, were my mom and two co-workers that I was sort of close to. I wanted to go to Vegas. Hubby and his mother wanted The Traditional Wedding. Even though I was paying for 90% of it myself, I didn't have the balls to stand up for what I wanted. I was effectively the Anti-Bridezilla.

Being corned into the Traditional Bride Role that I had never dreamed or thought about, I studied every etiquette book, read the insipid magazines, glossed over the websites declaring that it would be the most important day of my life, and therefore worth at least $20K. I was 21-almost-22 years old. I did not spend $20K. But I did eat Ramen noodles for an entire year so that every spare penny could go to this singular day.

To pat my own back, I did pretty well etiquette-wise. My only faux paus was that I ordered the wedding invitations without consulting anyone - because nobody wanted to help with anything else, so why would I start asking for help then? - and inadvertently left my future in-law's names off the invite. I didn't even want to put my OWN parents' names on the damn thing, it didn't occur to me how hurt my future mother-in-law would be. I absolved myself of that guilt during the reception when one of her closest friends came up to me, stone sober, and said "what a simple, pretty dress! Why, you can wear it again sometime!" Yes. Really. And suprisingly, that is not my etiquette-related rant of today.

Having taken the time to learn all sorts of crap that I wasn't interested in to begin with, I am deeply bothered when I receive wedding invitations that break every single rule. If I had to handwrite outer - and inner - envelopes for 200 of my mother-in-law's closest friends and relatives, everyone else should to!

That, however, is completely forgiveable in light of the Offense of the "Here's Where We're Registered" Notes. It truly does bother me to receive an invitation and open it to a confetti of those obnoxious little cards.

And finally, Gentle Readers, I am to my real rant: The point of having your wedding is not to receive gifts. The point is to share your committment, love, undying devotion, yadda yadda yadda to your future spouse with your family and friends. The gifts are a perk. As we've all learned from being employed, perks are not entitlements. If I am invited to your wedding and care enough about you to want to show support in the form of a gift other than cash, I ought to be close enough to you to know *someone* who can tell me where you are registered. (The concept of "registering" also bothers me, but that's a topic for another day.)

Perhaps I am not the best voice on this topic, having been fairly anti-wedding. I even refused a bridal shower because I hate attending them, so didn't want people to attend one because of me - and to feel obligated to bring a gift. The in-laws threw one for me against my will. And they all ended up fighting about it. I was wise for my 21 years; they should have listened to me.

The hubs thinks I'm a complete fuddy duddy about this, but it's who I am.

Don't Call Me Kate Either,
Allison

See-Food

What grown-ass woman doesn't know how to chew her food with her trap shut??

Sick.

As I was finishing up my scrumptious wrap (yeah, those two words don't belong next to each other. How I miss my old pal, bread!), thoroughly enjoying being the only person in the break room, in she walks, heats up her McD's apple pie, and proceeds to wolf it down with her mouth wide open. Although she was on the other side of the room from me, I could hear it all in disgustingly perfect detail.

I literally had to fold up my newspaper and book it out of there ASAP. I just can't handle the sound of food swashing and smacking it's way around someone's oral cavity while I'm eating. Or actually, ever! *Shudder*


-Kitty

P.S. To this same woman, I'm calling you out - I know you were trying to race me out of the parking lot last Thursday!

P.P.S. I won!

Yes, you should replace the empty toilet paper roll!

I live with one husband, one 23 year old step daughter and one 14 year old daughter. These are not children, they are well civilized members of society. Or so they should be!

Then why is it that the three of them collectively can not replace an empty toilet paper roll? Why do I have to yell, and stomp my feet down a flight of stairs to get them to realize that this CRAP ISN'T FUNNY! I swear I hear their giggly voices when I go into the bathroom to "do my business" and there isn't a roll of paper to be found! I have learned, never to assume there is paper on the roll, I always look. Because they think its even funnier, when I am trapped in the bathroom, and they all pretend they can't hear me screaming their God given names!

I have resorted to keeping mounds of TP supplies in each bathroom, but it never fails, when that mound gets empty the little bastards are unable to go into the garage and retrieve anymore.

So I am wondering if it is child abuse if I give each family member an allotted one roll of toilet paper each week, to be worn around their little scrawny necks. That one roll will be all they get for a week? I swear on Mr. Whipple's grave that I am about to go drastic on these heathens if they don't replace a simple toilet paper roll when it is empty.

Bridesmaidzilla

Rule #1 to women whose friends are getting married:

Just because she was a bridesmaid in your wedding does not make her obligated to ask YOU to be a bridesmaid in hers.

Rule #2 to women whose friends are getting married:

If your friend, who was a bridesmaid in your wedding, asks you to fill a role in her wedding other than bridesmaid, you ARE NOT allowed to tell her how much it "hurts your feelings" that she didn't ask you to be a bridesmaid.

Seriously people. A woman doesn't get many opportunities in her life to play "Queen for a day," and have the world revolve around her. You were the bride in your wedding, and you got to have your way. Now you need to quit your whining and let THIS bride have her way, even if it means you don't get to be a bridesmaid.

It is not about you!

-Kitty

P.S. Being "honest" is not an acceptable excuse for being a rude b*tch. But I think that's a post for another day.

Hold It! - With a twist

Dear Teenage Lovestruck Boy,

I appreciate your belief that chivalry is not dead, and your desire to keep good manners alive by holding the door for your tiny girlfriend at the burger joint.

I simply ask that next time you might consider holding the OTHER door for her instead.

If only to save the kind woman sitting on the bench awaiting her food from an up-close and personal view of your hindquarters.

Sincerely,

The kind woman sitting on the bench awaiting her food.


-Kitty

Hold it! Part Deux

Kitty! It is not a hard thing to do!

This is my all time, number one, top of the mountain, numero uno, BIG WINNER, pet peeve of all time. ( not really, there is more!). Is it so hard to stop for a moment, pause, and hold the door for a person? How about throw in a smile?

I have stuggled with a cup of coffee, purse, car keys, lunch, and a host of other crap in my hands, to have a fellow co-worker look over at me and practically race me to the door. What I hope happens is this fellow co-worker holds it open, greets me with a "good morning, do you need some help?" I wish that happens but, HECK NO! What does happen is this person rushes up a small set of stairs, uses their FOB to open the security monitor and then lets the door slam behind them, and leaves me with all my crap, my mouth open in disbelief and a bucket of curse words for them under my breath.

So to my fellow door openers. I salute you. I go out of my way to hold a door open, somedays I am thanked, and some days I am not. I am not in it for the glory, its a silent cause I choose. A type of martyr, I like to think of myself as the Joan Ark of door holders. But I ask of you my friends, take the time to hold the door open, smile, maybe even throw in a good morning, or good afternoon. You may not be appriciated, but you will know you have done something nice for someone.

-Katherine

Hold it!

There is a girl (we'll call her Beth) who works in another department in our office that my department works with frequently. Beth is nice enough to work with. But Beth has a bad habit.

This morning I rode the elevator up to the 3rd floor with another girl (dang, picking names is hard! Umm... she can be Cindy), Beth took the stairs right before Cindy and I got on the elevator. A wise choice, if you're even a little quick you can beat the elevator every time.

So Cindy and I were chatting as we exited the elevator and walked down the hall to the door to our offices, and Beth was walking about 5 paces in front of us, the first to get to the door. The kind of door you have to use an electronic FOB to open. Cindy detoured through a different door and I followed Beth. Beth opened the door, didn't look back, and walked through, letting the door close behind her JUST as I reached it. There is no way she didn't know I was behind her. I am a loud walker, I jingle my keys, and two seconds before Beth opened the door I had called after Cindy to "have a good day."

Beth is not deaf.

That's the second time she's done that to me! What is so hard about holding the door for a few seconds??

UGH.

-Kitty

Everyone must wait their turn.

Why is it that old people, seniors, the AARP crowd, grandma's and general geriatrics think they are above waiting in line? Why do these people think that cramming their carts into the back of my heels might make the line go faster? Do they really think that hacking up a lung in my ear will actually make the cashier move a little faster? NO! Everyone must wait their turn.

I wonder, is it all seniors? Or is it the seniors that seek me out?

One more thing. Do all senior citizens need to go for their "joy rides" while I am on my lunch hour? I only have a small window of opportunity to enjoy my lunch, and really driving behind you and Myrtle, going 25 miles per hour does not help the experience.

* I would like to apologize to any LOVELY SENIORS that read this blog, this was not directed towards YOU personally, just the ones that go below the speed limit, get all huffy in lines, and that enjoy hacking a lung in my general direction, thank you*

-Katherine

The Shining Moment in my Day

I'm feeling much better since yesterday. Well, about traffic anyway. Vindication will do that to you.

I drive 25 miles to and from work every day. Today's traffic was particularly horrendous, and it took me over an hour to get home. That was because this weekend is the Strawberry Festival one town away from where I live (in the town that Katherine lives in actually). I myself have never gone. I guess I would rather eat strawberries in the comfort of my own home, and without the pleasure of paying twelve bucks just to get entrance to them.

But I digress.

Apparently the Strawberry Festival is a big draw to people from L.A. and the Inland Empire because there were a LOT of out of towners on the freeway. Whatever, I expected this as I can see the freeway from my office.

So here's what ticked me off: While everyone else is pretty much patiently cruising along at a leisurely 15 mph for several miles, some Angelenos (a.k.a. douchebags from L.A.) in a black Porsche Cayenne decide they're more important than everyone else and start passing people on the left shoulder every time traffic stops. Then when it picks up again they cut off some poor sap. Traffic stops - they pass, goes - cut someone off. I guess it was REALLY important they get to those strawberries ASAP. So I got peeved, but what could I do?

A minute or two after they pass me, I hear blaring sirens, and a cop speeds past, also in the shoulder. I prayed to sweet, sweet Jesus, "Please don't let him be racing to an accident, please say he saw that Cayenne..." And guess what? That's right - the good Lord answered my prayer. A couple minutes later I see the Cayenne pulled over on the right shoulder with the cop car behind it. YES!! I may have laughed and pointed. They probably didn't see me, but it made me feel better.

Apparently a lot of other people felt the same way. One or two cars beeped their horns as they drove past, and the cop gave a friendly wave. I imagine he was saying, "Just doin' my job, folks. Happy to be of service."

Ahhh... That was totally worth some exhaust in the face.

-Kitty

Dis.gus.ting.

So I was driving home from work last night, in the home stretch right before my exit, feeling pretty good. It was a beautiful day, my window was open, the wind was tousling my hair, and I had NO plans for the evening. Ahhh...

I was just about to pass this obnoxious, armored transport-type truck who was getting on the freeway (slooowly), and move over into the exit lane, when I saw the driver look at me in his side mirror. The front of my car was next to his back bumper and I was going probably 10-15 mph faster than him (and he still had tons of time to get over had he let me pass), but he started moving over into me anyway! I slammed on the brakes to avoid him, but then I got hit anyway - by a CLOUD OF BLACK EXHAUST coming from the truck. There was so much smoke! It smelled like filthy burning oil, and it filled up my car since I'd been cruising happily with my window open. Blech!

So I let the guy know how that made me feel (read: I flipped him the bird), and he had the nerve to watch me in his side mirror, and then start laughing! Grrr...

I got off the freeway, and turned onto the frontage road that leads to my house, still going the same direction as the truck. Since traffic slows right after my exit, I was still driving next to it except they were up higher. Well, I looked up, and the guy in the passenger seat WAVED TO ME, laughing!! Unfortunately, there was a cop in front of me so I chose not to give him another gesture, not that it would have made me feel any better.

I think this goes beyond rude and straight into the ASSH*LE category. I really wish I had gotten the name of the company off the truck so I could call and complain. Oh well. With any luck their crappy driving will lead them to hit a police car some day and vengeance shall be mine.

I only hope I'm lucky enough to witness it, so I can just laugh and wave...

-Kitty

Thank you & Come again!

Have you noticed that customer service is really lacking in the retail market? At Target, they are so frazzled to rush you through the line, that they hardly look up and practically throw your items at you to get you out the door faster. At McDonald's, Lord knows what will end up in your bag because the employees are so programed to get a person out the door that THEY don't even know what they are putting in the bags.

Just yesterday, I went to Kohl's. I purchased one item. I was in a short line, one person was ahead of me. I thought to myself, great! I will get out of here, PRONTO! Well, the checker picked up the phone during the transaction ahead of me, and it looked like she was going to take care of us then get back to the phone. Or so I thought. She did take care of the person in front of me, proceeded to pick up the phone, tells the person on the other end of her call, "I have one more". ( I assume, that was code for "customer") Keeps the phone at her ear, finished my transaction, puts the bag down, the receipt on top of the bag, hangs up the phone and WALKS AWAY! I hadn't even put my wallet away, when she was GONE! Nothing! Crickets! No, Thank you! No, Have a nice day! No, Thank you for shopping at Kohl's! Just the dust she kicked up from run/walking away!

So I say to those few who read this rant, Thank you & Come Again!

-Katherine

I swear I am not the Thank You card police!

I am a big fan of sending cards. Thank you cards, birthday cards, miss you cards, and just because cards. But as of lately I have been slacking on my card sending duties. I am sure nobody has noticed, but I have. I think it is because my Aunite Margret who was 85 and who lived alone in NYC passed away last year. I used to send her cards every chance I got. Now I don't have a special card person to send a card too any more. Maybe I will start sending them to my mom, who by the way lives in the same town as myself and who I talk to everyday, so I think the card sending might seem silly, but I will give it at shot.

BUT! To help my blogging friends send a card for free to their special someone (maybe to Nana? Kitty!) I found a promo code for Hallmark.com. You just need to select and personalize your card ( make sure it's $3.49 or less), then use the promo code ICTCARD, and Hallmark will print and MAIL your card for you. I have done this a couple if times, it's very easy to do!

Have fun, and make someones day!

-Katherine

A Random Act of Kindness Gone Wrong

Today is Sunday, and Mother's day. I took my usual trip to Target for the weekly odds and ends that I needed. The store was unusually empty, and I was in a great Mother's Day spirit.

I go to checkout, and was behind a little girl. She was very sweet, she kept moving her two items up the belt so I can get more stuff on it, and she was very worried about my things. When she went to pay, Ms. Smarty Pants /Target employee ( she deserves her own paragraph to herself) informs the little girl she was short some change. I chime in and let her know I had a dollar she could have. Proceeded to give the little girl the extra money she needed. The little girl said thank you and off she went.

I felt good, it was nice to do something for someone. Not that Ms. Smarty Pants/Target employee gave a flying rats ass about it. I proceeded to have MSP/TE ring up my items, and she noticed I had a ton of coupons. She was not happy with me, or the long line behind me that was forming. I happen to look back in the line and I see the little girl telling her mom that I had given her some money for her purchase. What do I see? The little girls extra LARGE mother, yelling at her about taking money from me! My hands were shaking. I was trying to pay attention to MSP/TE who kept giving me crap about every freakin' coupon, while trying very hard not to look at this poor girl, getting verbally assaulted by her Hostess Twinkie Lovin' Mother!

The mother marched past me, clearly angry. I tried to not look in her direction and focus my attention on this Target employee who felt it was her mission to dispute every coupon that I had handed to her. I was so flustered I wanted to run away.

But in the end, the little girl got her toy and I felt like I had done something nice. The little girl has a new toy and I saved $16.00 bucks! HA! To you Ms. Smarty Pants/Target Employee, see you next Sunday!

-Katherine

Being the Etiquette Police is RUDE

I finally found some inspiration, so, sorry if this is long. Blame my director of HR, she is just too inspiring!

I live the corporate life, working in the bank's headquarters, and witnessing an array of people and personalities working together in beautiful symbiosis. Well, okay not quite.

There's one person who's irked me since the beginning of my employment here a little over a year ago. That person is the director of HR. We'll call her Minnie. Minnie is originally from England and fancies herself to be the supreme authority of all things related to etiquette. In reality, she's a sadly unprofessional, rude, pompous ass.

Every month or so since we moved all of our corporate offices into one brand-spankin'-new building, we receive reminders from Minnie in the form of emails and occasionally posted print-outs. Although these are meant to maintain a level of professionalism and courtesy in the office, instead they come across as her sounding at best like she has nothing better to do, and at worst flat-out rude and condescending. Often both.

The first one was a sign posted in our break room which appeared a few weeks after the move that read, "HOW DISAPPOINTING, people are slipping already..." and went on to remind everyone to clean up after themselves. Recently I've received other emails letting us know that she has witnessed people eating at their desks (against the rules, you know), and she goes on to actually describe what kinds of food are being consumed! Is that really necessary?? And, why not just ask the people doing it to stop rather than wasting time sending out mass emails?

Minnie also has a habit of going around staring at women's feet to ensure they are wearing proper hosiery. She is very obvious about this. She'll stare at your feet, and upon finding no hosiery, she will look at your face, then back at your feet. She won't say anything to you though, she'd rather send out a "reminder" to the entire office that rules are being broken and we MUST follow them as a matter of etiquette! She takes great personal satisfaction in these reminders, which in itself is not very polite, is it?

Without a doubt, however, the rudest thing I've witnessed her do was when I had to take an employee issue to her shortly after I started here. Granted, it wasn't a terribly serious matter, but it related to sexual harrassment, so not only did it legally have to be addressed, but my employee (I'll call her Stacy) was very upset about it and I wanted to see it resolved for her sake. (Plus the guy did say something extremely inappropriate for the workplace.) Minnie's response to me was, "One professional to another, Stacy is pretty uptight." I was seriously taken aback! I couldn't believe this was the director of HR I was talking to. I made sure she knew that I did NOT think Stacy was an uptight person at all, not that it should matter whether she was or wasn't. Ever since then, I've thought this woman was anything but "professional."

Maybe it's her job to be the etiquette police, but if she's going to do that, she could at least try to have some manners of her own.

Kitty

The power of a Thank You card.

As I sat at work today, trying to order the perfect thank you card, I wondered what happened to the Thank You card? Sure, I get one once a year from my dentist, and the Honda Dealership always sends me one after my routine oil change. But other than that, where did it go?

Are people too busy in their daily lives that a simple note of thanks is too much? I admit, I do send the occasional thank you e-mail, a quick note to thank someone. But for gifts or over the top gestures, I think a personalized note is important.

Trying to explain the power of the Thank You note to my 14 year old sometimes falls on deaf ears. Trust me, there have been many a late night where I have found myself yelling "just sign your name" or "it's for Grandma, JUST DO IT!" But for the most part she just does it, because I told her to. Do I think the Thank You note tradition will be handed down to her daughter some day? It's too early to tell, but I hope so.

For now, I will threaten her within the last inch of her cell phone's life to do her Thank You cards. And she will do them, and I will beam with pride when my mom calls to tell me I am doing a good job with my daughter.

-Katherine

No Really, Please Don't Call Us Kate.

My name is Katherine and I am blogging with my friend Kitty.

Everyday Kitty and I run across random acts of rudeness. Starting with our names. Our name is not Kate, Katie, Kathleen, Kay, or any other form of Kate.

Just the other day a co-worker, someone I have worked with closely, walks past me and says, "Hey, Kathleen!" Then proceeded to go, "Oh, Katherine, or whatever your name is." Jeez, I have a name! I was born with it, and several important documents state that my name is Katherine, not, "WHATEVER!"

So, Kitty and I have decided to dedicate our blog to all the random acts of rudeness we come across, and believe me there will be plenty to chat about.

We believe that the world has become a rude and sad place. Lacking of thank you cards and common courtesy.

Please join us in our journey to rid the world of its selfish ways.

Thank you,

Katherine