I Like the Beeswax.

This weekend I lost every single Chapstick that I own even the emergency back ups.

(No thank you drunken nights.)

Already about to swipe my credit card at the grocery store today I remembered and grabbed the closest stick of anti-chapped lips in arms reach.

If you work in an office you know: lunchtime is crunchtime, no time to go gallavanting around the store -in heels, no less

It happened to be a 3 dollar stick of Burts Bees Beeswax Lip Balm. 3 dollars! For chapstick. My usual Cherry Chapstick is about a buck, maybe 2. We're in a recession! My hours are cut! I can get THREE Cherry Chapsticks for that!

All I could do was sigh, swipe and get back to work. (Chapped lips are not to be ignored.) (And Solitaire awaits me.)

The Beeswax of Burt lived up to it's hype. I'm a fan.

One sweep of the lips and my lips were cool and fresh and soft.

Good job Burt. Your Beeswax is good.

I just spent $40 in iTunes, $40 get my car wash/waxed but 3 dollar chapstick, I call an outrage!

I may need to rethink my priorities...or maybe I just need a drink.

A Mango Cadillac Margarita (slushy style cuz it's a hot day) from El Torito is what I was really wanting for lunch today. No chips 'n salsa for me. Just the drink please.

They really should have To Go cups.

Or I can pour the Marggey in a Big Gulp Cup, it would totally pass as a Slurpee.

Can I get some Cheese with my Whine?

So, it's raining bedknobs & broomsticks out. (SoCal. Our standards differ.) (Clearly.) This should have been my first clue that today was going to be One Of Those Days. I didn't catch on. I went to work anyway. Big Mistake.

Trader Joe's takes checks. Just in case you didn't know.

I had to ask since I seemed to have left my card case (with all my credit/debit cards) in my jeans from the other night. I realized this when I was looking for my drivers license and Insurance information to trade with the lady that rear-ended me! With all the bedknobs & broomsticks flailing about it's difficult to see how much damage the fender bender really caused, so far I've accounted for one scratch.

A Scratch!

(I'm tearing up over here...)

With nearly half my lunchtime gone and my stomach growling (it's a beast, lemme tell ya!) all I had was my check book (and an extra ID I keep in my car at all times. For rainy days. Like today.)

My love for credit cards was taken to another level today when I realized how convenient they are. Just swipe and sign. (I have stars in my eyes. It's love. I just know it.)

Checkbooks on the other hand...

With checkbooks you have to know things. Unimportant things like the date(!) and what store you are in (brain overload) AND THEN! You have to actually write out the amount you are spending. Twice. TWICE!! It's too much. And I got a paper cut.

Really though. What'd I do?! Is this Karma? I didn't completely cross the line with the guy that's practically married. Flirting is harmless right! And he started it! And, and...uh....alcohol isn't an excuse is it? Damn. I digress.

Lesson Learned: Never. Never. Leave home without a credit card. NEVER!

The universe was looking out though. When I got to work this morning: cookies and chocolatey brownie thingy's found their way to me. (No Way could I have survived lunch had I not been in a sugar coma)

But that's not all...

My mom turned on the HEATER!!! Hallelujah!! I did not need frostbite to top this day off.

Santa Baby, Hurry down the Chimney Tonight!

Anybody who works in an office knows that kitchen cleanliness is always an issue.

There is always somebody who leaves their food in the fridge turning it into a science project, dirty coffee mugs left unwashed in the sink, coffee, creamer, crumbs & stuff on the counters. Explosions happening in the microwave leaving food all over the place....my office is no exception.

My soup exploded in the microwave today; on all 6 surfaces.

When other office employees see a mess they get all irritated and say something like, "Is this the way they are at home? Just leaving thier mess for somebody else to clean up after!"

Why, yes. Yes, it is.

As I was wiping it up the thought struck me that if I were at home I would not be doing this. (Yeah, that's right. Would NOT be cleaning it up) We have a housekeeper that comes, so on the rare occasion that something should explode or overflow in the microwave, I leave it. I'm a brat like that but she gets paid so everybody's happy (as far as I'm concerned).

Irma, I thank you for cleaning up all my microwave mishaps and making my house all sparkly and clean. I had to do it myself today. I did not enjoy. You're a champ. You deserve a raise (see: Mom).

Hopefully, Obama (and his team of highly paid professionals) can turn this economy so I can get a (BIG FAT) raise, a bonus, an office Christmas Party and an Irma at work.

Santa,

I've been pretty good this year. There's the list. Do your thing.

P.S. Please refrain from keeping "big fat" on my body.

P.P.S. Or if you just wanna get me a winning Lottery ticket, that would do too.

Closet Blogging

Everyday I go to work. I have an [un]exciting job. My daily highlights are e-mailing KOAM (self proclaimed King of all Mexicans--he nicknamed himself) & Dodger Drinks-a-ton and reading blogs. They're not men of many words. They e-mail me like a sentence or so and I reply back with a full (colorful) paragraph of purely random ridiculousness (complete with my own crazy-creation background). This (and Tapatio) is what spices up my day. I'm exciting.

KOAM started a blog in which he will blog his journey "from fat to fit" and going for his dream of fighting in the MMA. I'm the encourager. He asked me to write his About Me section and he also wants me to post 2-3 blogs a month on his blog. Done and done. I'm honored.

I ask him his progress on the blogging all the time. I recommend blogs to him. We talk blog. I encourage. Except now he has this crazy idea that I should start a blog.

No, crazy boy.

I'm a closet blogger. I'm keeping it that way!

Granted, should he stumble upon my blog, it's not so anonymous. But I still refuse to TELL him about it. I'm embarrassed or something. I don't really have good reason. He has this crazy idea that "it would be so interesting to read through your everyday life". He's trying to have me believe that I'm a good writer and I'm interesting. Sadly, Notsomuch. But he's a good friend.

That's what good friends do, they encourage (and lie to you to pump you up).

I didn't even start this blog with the intention of it being public. I started it because I just like to write and this way if I have internet access then I've got a place to lay down some thoughts (or rants & raves) so all I need is my trusty iPhone and I don't have to carry around a journal and pen. The public thing happened by accident. I set the availability to private and somehow it publicized itself. Leading me to believe that there is a ghost in my computer. Or maybe it's an omen or (dare I say it) a user error? (NO!) I'm going ghost. A cute one, like Casper.

I don't like lying but I really am very self conscious about my bloggy (I like using the word blog. Bloggy. Bloggish. Bloggity.) ways. So until he stumbles upon this piece of work and calls me out. I'm a closet blogger.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

(I just like saying that)

Cutting down my lunch hour....

WTF! Trains should be banned from the tracks during the 12 o'clock hour! Hello conductors! Some of us only have an hour for lunch! 90 gazillion carts at like 5 mph UNCALLED FOR!! BANNED!! Baaaanned!!

Last cart. /end rant.

=)

S.

Sent from my iPhone

Give me an Inch, I'll take a Mile...

My weekend in a nutshell:

-Senior citizens and kareoke -Gay club and dancing (the gays get down!) -Drinking (it's the only way...) -BBQ (food, drink, Guitar Hero, Loteria, Hold 'em...oh my!) -Ghettofying my phone case with stickers cuz I love it too much to throw it away. And since my first attempt at salvation (KrazyGlue) failed, it was the only other option I could think of.

(Um. KrazyGlue. Thumb. Index finger. Yeah, you guessed it...)

OMG! And today at work, I got handed...

(brace yourself)

Work! Yes, that is correct. Work. So that means today I'm actually doing what I get paid to do. Wierd, I know. My heart skipped a beat when my Super handed me plans this morning. And then I opened and looked at them and wanted to hand them right back. It passed though. I got to working and actually enjoyed it (as much as you can enjoy WORK anyway). But that was before lunch. Now after a big lunch (Vons- that's right yet another day sans TJ's) and cheesecake to celebrate my co-workers birthday, I'm considering petitioning for naptime at the office... I'm pretty sure that there was a study done on employees being more productive with naps, right? Right? Hmmm... The slavedriver-esque Super may disagree.

(4 solid hours of work and now their slavedrivers...and I'm blogging right now...work to be done and I'm blogging.)

Whatev.

Who got to work 15 minutes EARLY today?!

Yours truly!

Yippey for me! Let's see if I can keep it up for the rest of the week! (BABY STEPS, mind you-a week is PLENTY.)

Back to work now...

S.

Sent from my iPhone

Boycotting

I totally went a week without Trader Joe's. Do I dare go another week! We shall see... Vons showing some promise.... The downfall is they're a bit pricey...and I'm a penny pincher. And the economy non sto bene. (Italian meaning: not good. I'm pretty sure. I think.)

Heaven help me it's lunchtime again

I've been thinking about lunch since about 9 o'clock. Seriously. I have a problem, no? Hi, my name is Sonia and I'm addicted to Trader Joe's salad. Lunchtime has been a nightmare these past 2 days. No bueno. So I'm now considering NOT boycotting TJ's anymore since, clearly, I'm the only one suffering here. And they did say they would comp my next salad...(sans bugs, I hope.)

Okay, let's face it. I would have so been there yesterday if it weren't for my lack of better judgement (I'm still pinning this on the bug) in asking to speak with the cute raggamuffin blue-eyed boy that I attempted to flirt with. The phone call was strike 2. I suck at flirting. And typically come off as flighty. It's no wonder I've been single for so long. Although, admittedly I'm really in need of... well... I need to get LAID! A girl has got needs and this girls needs ARE NOT being met. So anyway, no Trader Joe's because of my lack of game and overall coolness? At this point what have I got to lose? I really doubt that I'll be blatantly pointed out and laughed at. Maybe behind the scenes, though...

Why do I care much? That's all ego baby. My ego makes me boring. Eff it! New motto: Let's give them something to talk about!

Scratch that. Too bold and fearless. (baby steps)

How about: Just think happy thoughts. Denial isn't so bad, right? I mean, don't I always say that ignorance is bliss?

We'll see... 5 minutes to lunchtime.

S.

Sent from my iPhone

Lunchtime

Lunchtime again. Gripe. What's a girl to do...

:-(

Stupid beetle.

S.

Sent from my iPhone

Lunchtime Blues

Eek! It's lunchtime and I don't know where to go, they have the most scrumptious if salads at Trader Joe's...but sadly TJ's cannot be a lunchtime option any longer (see: The Bug. BUG! *shutter*). As long as my stomach turns at the thought of the Halloween salad surprise (holiday surprises are supposed to be for the better! WTF TJ's?! Didn't you get the memo?! And that's why you're FIRED! FIRED!) I'm boycotting the TJ's. Lunchtime just won't be the same. *sigh*

You will likely find me wandering aimlessly in the aisles of Staters in search of a delicious and nutritious meal that doesn't break the bank.

Be brave, I tell myself. Choose wisely.

S.

Sent from my iPhone