I’m ridiculously excited after watching this trailer. Raise your hand if you already know you’re going at least twice. (Hand raised.)


“We made a deal ages ago…men, babies, it doesn’t matter. We’re soulmates.”
-Samantha, Sex and the City

After I posted the entry on bathroom signs, I thought about a something I saw on television a few months ago.

CBS has a show called “Undercover Boss” where the president of a company literally goes undercover to work in different areas of the organization. I saw an episode with Larry O’Donnell, President and Chief Operating Officer for Waste Management, and one of his tasks was to clean port-a-pottys at a fairground. The “job trainer” he was partnered with (keep in mind that the trainer had no idea who Larry O’Donnell was) had such a good attitude about his job, that he was promoted by O’Donnell and is now giving motivational speeches to other employees at Waste Management.

“I kept trying to figure out what motivates him. He takes a job that most people would consider nasty, and he turns it into something funny and fun. If we could all be that way, what a great company we would have.”
-Larry O’Donnell on Waste Management employee Fred

Watch the 3 minute clip here:

Have you ever been inside a restroom and wondered why certain signs are necessary? Take this one in our work restroom, for example: It leaves me wondering: Where else were people putting toilet paper? Did they use it and throw it on the floor? Surely not. Or, does this sign indicate that people were flushing other items down the loo?

And, while in Target recently, I saw another odd sign on the baby changing station. It read: Please do not leave your baby unattended. Seriously? Is that necessary? Did someone plop their kid down and then head over to the shoe section?

When I worked in an office building in Columbia, South Carolina, there was a sign in the 4th floor restroom that was not only hand written, but very hateful regarding the disposal of female sanitary products. I know people can be pigs, and cleaning up a public restroom can not be fun – but – I giggled every time I thought about the cleaning person who had one night just had it up to HERE with the mess and scribbled the threatening sign with a black marker. You know, like you did with your college roommates. (I remember writing one that said something along the lines of, “Please put dirty dishes in the DISHWASHER. IT CLEANS THEM, I DON’T.”)

Surely people who clean public restrooms are guaranteed a place in heaven.

Ever had one of those days where you feel lucky? I feel that way today. Incredibly fortunate and lucky.

My boyfriend bought concert tickets today. He’s taking me to see John Mayer! John Mayer, whom I love/obsess over and he doesn’t even like. And, he didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go – he just told me. “You’re busy one weekend in July – I got us tickets.”

I don’t feel lucky because I’m going to see John Mayer (ok, debatable). I’m one lucky lady because of the other guy.

Side note: If you just vomited, I don’t blame you. My apologies.

Last week, I came to the conclusion that I had to stop eating lunch and dinner out so frequently. This, my friends, was tough to take (as you all know my obsession with Zaxby’s). However, with my account balance at all time low, I didn’t have much of a choice.

I made it nine days without dining out for lunch or dinner. Well, that’s a lie – Ben bought me food last weekend. But, I haven’t used any of my own money for food except at the grocery store last Sunday.

Today I rewarded myself. As I pulled up to the menu and heard the familiar, “Welcome to Zaxby’s, what can we get you today?” I almost yelled, “Everything!” – but I decided against it.

Someone called our office today to ask where they could exchange British pounds for US dollars. I told her she would need to go to her bank. Well, she tried that. They told her they couldn’t do it. So, she tried 3 other banks. They said no, too.

I’ve got to be honest here: Given the exchange rate, I can’t say that I blame ’em.

You would see the following…

Gchatter:
Me: We talked about you last night.
Friend: Why did y’all talk about me?
Friend: Did you say I have a drinking problem?
Friend: Because I don’t.
Friend: I don’t drink during the week.
Friend: But when I do drink – I over indulge.

Text messages from my mom:
Mom: Shingles are here. WW knows to go to the window to watch. I must get on a diet. Fatness is not pretty.

Text messages with Ashley, my co-worker:
Me: My car smells like cat pee. It’s the air. Gross.
Ashley: That’s nasty. Worse than feet.

Yesterday I took Wallace for his daily jaunt around the neighborhood. He lives for this, y’all. Like, as soon as I walk in the door he starts begging for his walk. And, you can’t even say the word “walk” or he’ll start turning circles and barking. In my house, if you want to keep your sanity, you have to spell it out: w-a-l-k. He’s pretty smart, though, so I’m sure before long he’ll figure that out, too.

Anyway, after our w-a-l-k, I had to water the flowers that my mom planted for me. She buys them and puts them in the ground, and I attempt to keep them alive. (So far, so good – but I’m going out of town this weekend, so…I’ll keep you posted.) So, I’m in my backyard, earphones in ears and water hose in hand, watering flowers and dancing around to Material Girl by Madonna when it happens.

My dog, who was crouched down like a tiger next to an azalea, pounces on my leg and plants his teeth into my ankle. I screamed, “OW!!!!!!!!!! WALLACE!!!! WHAT THE F**K?!?!”

Well, I scared him half to death because his little ears went back and he ran for cover. Feeling guilty for scaring him, I snatched my headphones out of my ears to comfort him (He was, after all, just playing – he didn’t mean to bite my flesh, he was going for the shoe…I hope.) and I heard noises. People noises.

Not just any people – my next door neighbors. And their two kids. They were having their family dinner outside last night.

Whoops. I guess when their four-year-old uses the f-word, I’m to blame. Maybe I should train myself to spell out curse words.

In case you missed it, check these out:

Nice guys really can finish first. In line at Krispy Kreme Doughnuts the morning after his win.

Photo credits: Top photo, me. Bottom photo, Greg Carswell of Krispy Kreme, taken from The Augusta Chronicle