I Got the Duty

Well folks, I have been summoned for Grand Jury duty on Monday. I was very excited about this, as I have been waiting to be called for a jury for some time. Then it kicked in. I just started a new job, I’m still learning a bunch of stuff, and it’s super busy in the Fall. It’s just not a good time. Can’t they call me in April when everyone goes to Florida? In any case, I started thinking of ways to get out of the duty. Not that I think any will work, but a girl can dream.

The following have been mulled over: 

-Enter the court room chanting “FERGUSON, FERGUSON, FERGUSON.”

-Break out a Limburger cheese sandwich for breakfast. (Sandwich will not actually be eaten, that’s gross.)

-Wear my t-shirt that says "YourFace, 6 Million People Dislike This." 

-Ask the clerk where they keep the Keurig.

-Tell the judge any of the following:

·        If they arrested him, he must be guilty.

·        What time do you meet until? I normally nap at 1 p.m.

·        Is break time at 11? That’s when The Price is Right is on.”

-Read a book entitled “Litigious America, How Unnecessary Trials are Bankrupting America.” No such book exists, but I thought I could make a fake cover in Word or Publisher, print it out and tape it over a real book.

-Talk loudly with my neighbor about how I’ve been watching a LOT of Law & Order and that I feel I could prosecute the case myself.

Thoughts, folks? 

I already know your thoughts. You know I’m too chicken to pull any of these off so I’ll just go in there, answer the questions and pray that they give us breaks to fill my coffee mug.

The Ultimate WTF

Listing the Grand Staircase first?

That's cold, man.

That's cold.

How Do You Feel?

A while back I posted a picture of myself pre gastric bypass surgery on Facebook.  People commented that they couldn’t believe her how different I looked, how great I had done. Someone asked me if I felt any different.  This is something I never wrote about before, because I don’t think about it much.  And that’s not because it’s not on my mind. It’s because what I think isn’t great.

I grew up heavy.  Most often the largest person in the room. I grew up not making eye contact with people in the hallways of school. Mostly because I was afraid that they might yell something.  I have vivid memories of 9^th grade when I was innocently walking up the hallway, and a senior walked up to me, pointed in my face and said “You are fat.” I was mortified.  Not because I didn’t think it was true, but because other people were around and had heard him. I did my best to stay under the radar, lest someone decide to do that again.  I always had friends.  I had people who loved me, and didn’t care what I looked like. I tried to be pleasing, I tried to be funny.  I think I succeeded for the most part. But when you grow up the way I did, you do everything a certain way. You look at a room full of tables and think “what is my best exit?’ You have to look for spaces between chairs that you won’t get caught in.  If there are none, you just wait. You can’t be the one drawing attention to yourself; you don’t need that negative attention. You are normal, right?

Fast forward to 2014.  I am down 220 lbs. Yet the old girl is still in there.  I walk up a hallway and if someone laughs, I immediately think they are laughing at me. I sit on a seat on a plane and think “no way is anyone going to sit next to me, I’m taking up too much room.” I see a set of chairs in a banquet hall and hesitate to pass between them, because I won’t fit.  I will fit, but my brain hasn’t caught up to my body. Is this a bad thing? I don’t know. I do know what is bad. The way I was treated in school. There are a handful of people that I still can’t forgive.  I never did anything to them. Not one thing. I was there, minding my business. They treated me like shit because I was different.  I graduated from high school 20 years ago, but the way I was treated then shaped my entire life. How do you let that go, how do you “forgive and forget?” I don’t want to sit here and say I haven’t forgiven anyone. I have. But some wounds cut deep. And those are the ones that I can’t seem to heal.

So how do I feel? I feel great. I have more energy. I can walk without breathing heavy and thinking “can I sit down yet?” Chasing my kids and my nieces isn’t painful. I don’t have to rest after anything physical. I run races.  Actually run. I’m not fast, but I’m running. I do more now than I ever did, and I encourage anyone who has enough extra weight on them to consider weight loss surgery. That said, how do I feel? I feel cheated.  I feel like people (not all, but some) didn’t know me. Not saying they would know me and like me, let’s face it. I’m not for everyone. But was I a girl who you should look at and call a name? Was I a girl who you had to snicker at as she walked by? What did I do? I didn’t do anything.  They say you should not focus on people like that. But how can you not when the hurt from years ago never really goes away? When it’s always sitting in the back of your head? I guess you just have to. You have to remember that not everyone is like you. Everyone grew up differently and the people who put you down must have had a tough life growing up to treat others like that, right? Right? Yes, that’s what I’m going with. Even if part of me hopes they end up pumping gas in Alaska.

So what's the moral in all this? THINK before you speak. If what you are about to say is meant to hurt their feelings, perhaps you should just keep it inside. Maybe you'll thank yourself later. Maybe the person you were gonna say it to will thank you 20 years from now.

 

More Sage Advice

I'm full of great advice. Ask anyone.

Why just today, my friend posted this photo on Facebook.

This thing (thing is the only name I can use to describe it because I am NOT going to use the word animal) crawled out from under her sink while she was brushing her teeth. The first thought one would have when that happened is to freak right the hell out. I mean, I would. But since it wasn't my house, I could keep a level head and give her this sage advice.  Move.  Just pack your shit and move. Then I thought for another second and said "I take it back. Leave your shit behind. You can buy new shit." Serious, she should just get her keys and her purse and leave. Cause if that came out, chances are there are MORE coming. It's the rainy season after all!

Do you have a problem? Maybe I can help. Send me any issues you might be having and I shall solve them.

Real Conversations from the Week

Each week I have some fun conversations with people. I felt the need to share a few here.


Co-worker: OMG, who is taking your place?
Me: Silly, that's impossible. I'm irreplacable!
Co-worker: No, really.
Me: (That didn't justify a response, justified a punch in the face!)

Me: Paul look, in my job description it says they want someone that exhibits tact, maturity and diplomacy.
Paul: Must be looking for a change.

Co-worker: You look especially skinny today.
Me: (No response, just fought the urge to open mouth kiss her.)

Me: Mom, I was in last place at the race, the police were right behind me.
Mom: That's good protection. Except if it's the Buffalo Police. Your safety might be in question.

Jeff: Look what I'm buying (sends me photo of Jason Priestley book).
Me: Awesome, can I borrow it when you are done?
Jeff: Of course!
Me: Try not to get the pages all sticky.

Me: Look at the title of this PowerPoint. A Penetrating Study. Huh Huh. Huh Huh.
Co-worker: Oh My God, Lori.
Me: Huh Huh, he said penetrating.

Us, in May

This is Paul and I, every May. I think we're gonna make it. And we shall savor all two months of no asking about gym clothes, lunches, homework, book reports, agendas, band concerts and house keys.

FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!!

Nice Kitty Soft Kitty

Went to Target and saw these on the clearance rack. Shocking, no? I asked Duncan to try them on, seeing as they matched his sneaks, and he said no. What a hater.  I mean, who doesn't need a nice pair of shiny, stretchy pants with cats on 'em? Please note the whiskers on the crotch area. I didn't see those at first glance, but my cousin Jennifer's keen eye picked up on it.  Time for a shave, pantaloons.

Now I'm no fashionista and I'm sure no designer. I'm not into the low rider jeans (no one needs to see that) and I wouldn't say you'd run to me for advice on what's hip. But I have yet to find a person who saw these pants and said "Oh yeah, I gotta have those." And from what I gather, Target hasn't either because this wasn't the only pair on the reduced rack. So I ask you this. What exactly went on in the purchasing department for ladies clothing? Are you telling me that someone rolled out a bolt of this fabric and someone else said "Oh HELL yeah, we gotta get some of those made into pants, STAT!" And why not pants that weren't super tight? Imagine these in an XL.  Do you even want to see that print on an XL ass? No, you do not. You don't want to see it on a S, M, or L ass, so there ain't no WAY you want to see it on an XL ass. And it's not like you are ever invited to an ugly pants party. Ugly sweater, yes. Ugly pants? No. Although if you did get invited to one, you'd be set with this beast.

And not for nothing, but the day that I saw these pants in the store? The day the Target CEO went bye bye. Just sayin'

Roar.

Worst Name Ever

Can I go on record saying this is one of the worst named products ever?

No one needs an erupter in their mouth.

Sage Advice: Try not to be an A-hole

Wanna know what chaps my ass? I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “Jesus, Lori, what doesn’t chap your ass?” I mean, there’s a hole with no bottom.  But I find I’m always changing. What bothered me two years ago might not bother me now. But some things don't go away. Like, for instance, when people are assholes for no damned reason.

The other day I left a box in the lobby and said "I'll be right back, I have to send this out, but not until I get the mail." AKA: just leave the box, I'll be back.  

The response I got was "So?" 

So what the hell do I do with that comment? 

What I WANTED to say was "So don't touch it douchebag," or "Who the eff do you think you are?" Or maybe "If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I would have farted."

What I said was "OK, see ya later!"

The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. I didn't walk up and say "Hey asshole, I'm leaving this box here" or "Yo dickcheese, don't touch this." I simply said what I was doing, cause if I hadn't, this person would have said "Uh, did ya want me ta do sumthin' with this?"  

So I ask you. What the hell is wrong with people? I know, I know, there's another hole with no bottom. But really, is life that bad that you have to be a dickbag for no reason? (Please note, if any dickbags out there are reading this, comments are welcome, as I'm wondering WHY you act like a dickbag.) If your life is that bad, try to change it. If you can't, I'm sorry. But don't take your shit out on me.  I'm not being an ASSHOLE to you, so if you could return the favor, that would be great.

On that bright note, have a great weekend, kids!

Go Get that Job!

We've all been there.  You see a job you want, and you score an interview.  You research the company, you take your suit to the dry cleaner and you begin anticipating what questions will be asked. But don't forget - interviewers want YOU to ask about them! When they say "do you have any questions," don't sit there like a fool! Take these suggestions for what you can ask that will surely land you the job.

1. How much vacation time is given?
2. What about sick time?
3. How soon can I use a sick day?
4. How long do I have to work before I go out on disability?
5. What is your policy on bringing pets to work?
6. Are there advances on paychecks?
7. How tight is inventory controlled?
8. Will I be in charge of ordering my own Sharpies?
9. Does the office have cameras near the supply closet?
10. Does this job cover WiFi at my home?
11. Is coffee included?
12. Do you have jean Monday through Friday?
13. How is the food in the cafeteria?
14. Do they have good inventory control?
15. Do you have covered parking?
16. Why not? Don't you know who I am? 
17. Do they have timeclocks here?
18. And what's the policy on tardiness?
19. How much time is considered "too much" time on Twitter?

I'm telling you people, it's better to go in prepared than be sitting there racking the ol' noodle for questions. You use my tips and the job of your dream will be ours. Good luck, and God speed!

To the Ones that Got Away

I was going through my Facebook feed from years prior and realized, sadly, that FB is not showing everything that went on. I get it, they can't keep stuff up there forever, but I'm sure I know there are some doozies out there from my mother which may be lost forever because I can't remember them.

One day I'll have to access the archives (of my brain) so I can get them down on paper. You know, for the book "What Would JC Say?"

In the meantime, we have this classic from October 2011

Today is my parent's 42nd anniversary. As my mom said earlier "Yup, 42 years, some of them were even good."

 

And this from Feb 2014

Mom: What's wrong with that Justin Timberlake, canceling three days worth of shows? He's got herpes.
Me: Wha?? Where did you come up with that?
Mom: What else could it be? I figured it out on my own. Herpes.

And this from March 2014

Me: Ralph Wilson died.
Mom: I didn't even know he was sick.
Me: Mom, he was like 100.
Mom: Bye bye Bills.

Another from March 2014

Mom: I ain't into that Facebook crap.

And finally, from April 2014

Me: Give me your phone.
Mom: Don't nuts it up.

Momma Needs a New Shirt

Now who's buying it for her???

Ask Sister Lori

Who's got the answer?  Sister Lori has the answer.

Now we all remember the day Malaysia Air Flight 370 disappeared. I commented on a WGRZ post "saying prayers," because I was just stunned and saddened at the news. That's when a nice lady named Liz Woods wrote this:

Liz woke up on the wrong side of the bed. But she did help me with my nickname for the week. Sister Lori. So I asked you to submit questions for Sister Lori.  Well ladies and gents, your questions have been answered.

If you don't like the answers, talk to the habit (yes, that's me in 1993).

Q. Sister Lori- how do you deal with rude cafeteria workers?

A. That’s easy. Punch in the face! Next!

Q. If you pray in a forest and no one is around to hear it, are you really praying?

A. My child, of course you are praying. And if you think no one is listening, all you have to do is fart. Because if we have learned anything in life, no one will ever let anyone just fart in silence. They’ll totally call you out on it.

Q. If I say "God Bless You" after "fuck you, scum bag" does it make me better?

A. Of course it makes you better, but try not to bring “God” into it. Just say “Bless you.” We don’t want to besmirch his good name.

Q. If one yells out to God during an intimate moment, is that praying?

A. Unfortunately, that isn’t praying. But don’t feel bad.  If you are yelling out his name, obviously someone is doing something right.

Q. How many licks (this is ethical) does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?

A. How the fuck does Sister Lori know? She hasn’t had a Tootsie Pop in years. Dr. Caruana was all “No, no no” so Sister Lori is now on Momma’s Sugar Pops (AKA the Aldi Sweet Shoppe Sugar Free Junior Pops.)

Q. What's your stance on hot pockets?

A. Delicious! What are ya gonna pick? Sister Lori gives them two thumbs up. (Note: Lean Pockets get a big ol’ thumbs down. Way down.)

Q. Does God spend most of his time at professional sporting events and in jails? That is where most people thank God and find God.

A. Heavens, no. Would you hang around in JAIL if you didn’t have to? Would you go to a GOLF MATCH for fun? He knows what is going on everywhere, so he’s straight chilling in Boca from the comfort of a Lay-Z-Boy.

Q. Why is life so challenging? Why are some people so negative?

A. That’s two questions. I haven’t got all day. Pick one, and remember, dumb looks are still free.

Q. Who let the dogs out?

A. Certainly not me, certain dogs scare the bajesus out of me. Whoever did let them out, let’s hope their hands don’t smell like bacon.

Q. What if God DOES read Facebook? Are the rest of our prayers going unanswered?

A. I don’t know that he “reads” Facebook as much as he is all knowing and knows what is going on at all times. But let’s be real. You aren’t praying “on” FB. You might “type” that you are praying on Facebook, meaning you are going to say a prayer when done typing, but Liz Woods will call you out on it. So stop being so pious and go take a Zimbio quiz, you know we are all waiting on the edge of our seats to see which character you are on Beverly Hills 90210. (p.s. you are Jim Walsh, you nerd.)