You da best, best I eva had....

It's been awhile. Yeah, I know. Between traveling, working, holidays, social events (because I attend soooooo many of those), family [drama], and potentially courting a poor fella who has no idea what he's gotten himself into, well.... I just haven't had time to be entertaining. Or funny. Or insightful. Sorry guys, I've got a life. And sometimes that life is full of coals and sometimes it's full of diamonds. And sometimes it's full of coal and diamonds and bullshit and traffic and love and clients and laughs and crackberries and lunch meetings and hand-holding. That's my life right now, nutshell and all. 

Here is a recent phone conversation with a random person who has called me at work:

Editor's Note - After roughly 3 minutes of discussion, I find out this man's name is Robert. Robert Led-something, couldn't really understand him. You see, Robert speaks verrrrrry  slow. And Robert also speaks about anything. And everything. Forgive me, but I'm envisioning a 40-something, skinny man with Burt Reynolds' style lip spinach, maybe 8 teeth in his mouth (if we're lucky), with a rather heavy wife. Not sure how or why I think his wife is heavy, but she is.

Me: This is Jessica.
Robert: Hiiiiiiiiiii........... Jessica.
Me: Hello?
Robert: Ummmmmm.... yeah. Ummmmmmm, I.... have... a...... question.
Me: Ok. What can I do for you?
Robert: Well....... you see. I, I used to work for Conlan. Long ago [in a land far, far away]. Wait, do you have a Gordan that works there?
Me, slightly irritated at this point: No sir, we don't.
Robert: Okkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. Well....... you see, I...... back in, well long ago, like back in 1994 I worked for you.
Me: Ok?
Robert: And I worked with Gordan. Are you sure he isn't there anymore?
Me, at a 7 on the Irritation Scale: Yes, I'm sure.
Robert: Well, are you new or something? Cause you might be new.
Me, at a 7.5: No. I'm not new. I've worked here over 4 years. 
Robert: Oh yeah, that's new. Pretty new. This was before that. In 1994.
Me: Ok, Robert - exactly what can I do for you? Because I'm not quite sure why you've called my direct line or what you're looking for.
Robert: Well, do you have a Steve that works there?
Me: Steve Williams? Yes, we have a Steve Williams.
Robert: Well, I don't know if that's him. Is he new?
Me, reaching an 8 and getting a bit snappy: No. He's been here awhile.
Robert: Was he there in 1994?
Me: I don't know, Robert. In 1994, I was 11 years old. I'm not sure where Steve Williams was in 1994. How about I give you his number?
Robert: Oh, no.... that's ok. I don't want to interupt him. I just, well.... you see....
Me: Are you looking for a job, Robert?
Robert: Well, you see.... I think you should go back and look in your records for the years of, ohhhhh, about 1994 or so. Yeah, 1994 sounds about right. You'll see I worked there. 
Me, clearly at an almost 10 and for the first time in my life, eager to get back to my closeout documents: I believe you. Have a good....
Robert: Waittttttttttt! I have Conlan hats and shirts from when I worked there. I have them. You see, I had to quit because my wife, she was always nagging me and telling me I had to choose between her and work. So I had to quit at Conlan, even though I was the best worker there and you can ask Gordan if you want to.
Me - At this point, I'm done: Sir, Robert, listen. Gordon doesn't work here, so I can't ask him. And I'm not sure how or why, but you've called my direct line here at Conlan.  I can give you Steve Williams cell phone number if you'd like and maybe he has some work for you?
Robert: That would be great, ma'am. Maybe I'll call him later because, you see, I really don't want to interupt him if he is spending time with his family. That time is valuable. I wish I could spend time with my family too, but.....

[At this point, my level drops from a 10 to a 1.5. My heart has softened. Total Grinch style. This poor man just needs some work, it's the first day back after the holiday break, and the best worker Conlan has ever had has decided to give us another chance at hiring him. What a bitch I am.]

Me: Robert, here is Steve's number. Give him a call, he is out in the field today and I'm sure he would love to hear from you. 

Robert thanked me in a sweet, southern, gummy voice and gently hung up the phone... surely to give Steve a call, irritate him and then soften him, and get back to his overweight wife. 

Dear Robert Led-something,
I owe you an apology. I am positive that life probably hasn't afforded you the best of everything - in fact, it's probably been bitterly cold towards you at times. You seem weathered, both in life and in person. I'm sorry I didn't take a more patient approach with you or your situation. I have a feeling you are a good person with a kind soul, but most of all you are a hard worker. Probably the best Conlan has ever had. And I wish you would've stuck around. Some people around here could use a little softening of the heart. 


Love, 
Jessica

Let the fist pumping commence...

So, I've been known a time or two or twenty to be a little critical of men... especially the ones I have chosen to be [romantically] involved with (chosen being the key word). He drinks too much, he plays golf too much, does he HAVE to wake up at the ass crack to go fishing? He wears pleated khakis and visors, I hate hunting season and wish they would cancel it, he dresses too metro, is there ANYTHING on besides sports?... blah, blah, blah. These thoughts have all crossed my mind at one time or another. But let me say it loud and clear, people - and you've got this in writing - never, ever again will I complain about the stereo-typical Georgia man. Ever. Nada. Not on my watch. And why is this? See below. 



Unbelievable. Heinous. This shit blows my mind. 

The season premiere is 2 hours long. TWO HOURS of hair gel, orange tans, "The Situation" (a.k.a. hands-down-biggest-douchebag-of-the-century-and-needs-to-have-his-ass-beat-and-hair-shaved-off Cast Member), fist pumping, Ed Hardy, jacuzzi whores and ear piercing accents. When I tell you 2 minutes is enough, let alone 2 hours, I ain't lying. Yeah, I watched all 120 minutes... and it was painfully pleasant. It's just so unbelievable, so incomprehensible, that you HAVE to watch it all. The one liners alone are worth the agony. After your viewing session, you'll probably jump on Expedia and book your next trip to hit up the super classy nightclubs they spotlight - "Bamboo" and "Karma", that actually look like really sketchy 80's strip clubs that were once on the shores of Daytona.


Apparently, these "Jersey Shore" freaks all have nicknames. Let me elaborate.

"The Situation" 

Hahahahaa... I'm laughing before I even start describing this cat. This tool bag has given himself this nickname due to his remarkable abs that apparently are their own situation. I know, I know... doesn't really make sense to me either, but let's go with it for a sec. Even if his abs could talk and pick up guidettes, the fact that he refers to himself in third person is enough to make me want to bitch slap him all the way down the Eastern Coast and let the "situations" down here handle him. Someone needs to show this boy a gun, a golf club and a hair stylist.

"Snooki/Snickers" 

Envision a 4'6", 145 pound, dark haired bimbo with skin the color (literally) of Georgia red clay. If you glance quickly at her (which is really the only thing I would recommend) she resembles an overweight Christina Aguilera in her Dirty days. Within 20 minutes of meeting her fellow cast mates, she has already downed a half bottle of vodka and most likely, a few ounces of hair gel after the scene in the jacuzzi with her guido roommates. She calls herself the 'Queen of the "Poof"' (insert a white hair clip she somehow finagles to make her hair stand at least a good 8 inches high on the top of her head... It's ah-mazing, really. Eye-catching impressive.) 

"DJ Pauly D"

Wowzers. I probably don't even need to tell you that he "spends 25 minutes a day getting his hair to look this good" or that, at the age of 29, his mother still cuts his food into bite size pieces for him - probably to spare the 20 grand they spent on his veneers. Bet you couldn't tell he keeps a tanning bed in his house and orders his hair gel by the case.... That little sneaky rat, he sure knows how to fool us. 

These guidos and guidettes "work" at Shore Shop, a place where you can get spray painted shirts and bootie shorts with the catch phrase "I love The Situation" awkwardly ironed on to them. Side note: I think it's funny that they work at a place that sells shirts, seeing as how not a damn one of them has ever owned a shirt with any sleeves on it. How 'bout Angelina complaining about having to work an 8 hour day (heaven forbid) and letting us know that she "feels like this is beneath me. I'm a bartender. I do great things." Wow. Really?! Well, we appreciate you lowering your standards from pouring drinks to spray painting tee's, we really do. You're such a trooper. I'd like to think of you as the Erin Brockovich of the Boardwalk. Later, Snooki tells us her ultimate dream is to "move to Jersey. Marry a hot, tanned, guido. And just live my life." Thank you too, Snooki. We now have another brave pioneer in the forefront of the women's movement.

 

Jersey Shore. MTV. Thursday @ 10 pm. It may not sound appealing, but you will laugh your asses off. If anything ladies, I can assure you it will make you turn to your significant other and thank him for his attempt at a 6 pack, lack of sun kissed skin and messy bed hair. All this while wondering to yourself if you've ever actually been tan before?!


Oh, and one rule.... Neva fall in lov at da Jerzee Sho.

Grattitude is the best attitude!

Well, turkey day is over. I am officially 5.4 pounds heavier (which doesn't sit well on my 5'6", pasty white from lack of sun, frame). The turkey was fried, the bloody marys were consumed, the grace was said and the pie is long gone. We spent it with family and friends, just like we traditionally do and just how we like it. Of course, to me you can never have enough of those people around... it always seems like someone is missing... that someone usually being a far-away cousin, best friend who now has her own family to celebrate with, or my grandmother who spent this Thanksgiving along with the past 6 Thanksgivings hanging out upstairs with the Big Man around His table. Minus all of these missing links, I am still so unbelievably, so incredibly, so immensely fortunate. When I tell you I am the most blessed human on the face of the planet, I really am not kidding you. Of course, my idea of being "blessed" might be slightly different than yours and we are all entitled to feel like we own this number one spot (at least, I hope you all feel this way), but I really would not change one single thing about my life or the lives of those I love. We have each other which means we have love. We can walk and breathe and speak, which means we have health. We have a house to hold us and a table to gather around, which means we are sheltered. We have turkey and dressing and mashed potatoes and that God awful cranberry ice, which means we have food. These things alone make us richer than most of the world.

However, with all of that said (you had to know this was coming...) - why do we only feel this way for 6 weeks out of the year? Why do we only express our gratitude to God on the last Thursday of November and [occasionally] the 25th of December? Don't get me wrong, ladies and gents... I'm just as guilty. I'm no angel and definitely not the Messiah. But I have tried my damnest to be more grateful all 365 days of the year, rather than just on bank holidays. Maybe I'm beginning to realize that we aren't all invincible, that things do happen that are beyond our control and that you don't always get a second chance. Or maybe I'm realizing my own mortality, I don't know. Either way, I have made it a point to tell the people I love that I love them. I call my friends, I listen, I show up. I notice the sunsets, I tear up when babies learn to walk, I pay attention to the stories my grandparents share with me. I laugh at my dad's jokes, I reminisce over old photos, I savor my mom's cooking and I try to take time to remind people that they mean something to me. I thank God every.single.day for the blessings he has provided me and I've even learned (gasp!) to thank him for what he hasn't provided me. I'm a firm believer in prayer, but I think we get it confused all too often. Just because He doesn't answer your prayers the way you ask him to, doesn't mean they haven't been answered. You might not have that Mercedes, or the bigger diamond, or the overflowing checking account but that doesn't mean He's giving you the cold shoulder. Someone, somewhere is fighting a bigger battle, I can guar-an-tee you that. Let's stop being so damn superficial and materialistic and pray for more important things... like time, because no matter what there is never enough.

As I type this, I am watching World News Tonight (without Charlie Gibson, so it ain't the same) and what are they reporting? It's World Aids Day and they are in South Africa, interviewing a family of 5 children who have lost their mother to this horrible epidemic. These children have nothing... and I mean, nothing. Nothing but the too-small shoes that barely cover their feet, the clothes that expose them more than cover them and the tears running down their faces. Do you know what these people would give to have a 30 minute meal around our tables? Do we have any idea what it's like to beg for an education... and then have to walk 10 miles one-way on a dirt road if we are lucky enough to receive one? More importantly, do we know how easily we could have been one of them? It's the luck of the draw, y'all. How selfish of us take advantage of all we have all been afforded and forget all that some lack.

My point being, don't let the holiday season be the only time you change your facebook status to say what you are grateful for. Don't let THANKSgiving be the only day you send out an email to everyone in your address book, sending well wishes and blessing their holidays. Do it once a week. Hell, do it once a month if that's all you can muster up. Just do it. It takes 30 seconds, but I can assure it will sit well on your heart. One day you will wish someone was on the receiving end of that phone call or email; you'll wish their name would pop up in your inbox or show up on your caller ID. Thank your God, thank your Jesus, thank your Allah, thank your Jehovah, pray to Buddha, meditate... do whatever it is that you do. But do it with appreciation, do it with grace and do it as often as you can. If you only say one prayer in your entire life, let it be "thank you". Thank whoever you worship for the laughs, the heartaches, the good OR bad test results, the time we have left, the time we lost, the love we share and the love we once shared. Beggars can't be choosers. If you're gonna beg, be prepared for what may come your way. No matter what it is and no matter what day of the year it is, a quick gracias never hurt anyone. Gratitude can transform common days into Thanksgivings and change ordinary opportunities into blessings. Make every day a THANKSgiving.

Tonight I'll be praying for enough oranges to last the Brown family through the holidays... Mimosas are on tap through the new year, so feel free to stop by. I'm sure Mom wouldn't mind putting Dad to work in front of the juicer, she has been known to do that a time or two.

Happy Holidays to all, much love and many well wishes heading your way - today, tomorrow and always.