Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Friday, August 21, 2009
Things that frighten me for $1000, Alex
At work, Mom has started putting my iPod on the Weller/Style Council/Jam playlist. A LOT.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Oh Lord
Various Valentine's Day happenings
1. A local loudmouth (has a good heart, just is real obnoxious) called the shop for a dozen roses to be sent to his (equally loud, yet good-hearted) wife. Well done. But...
He wanted 11 red roses and one blue.
Guys, don't make us do that to a perfectly innocent white rose. They scream when we pull out the floral paint. Seriously.
But the card, THE CARD, was the kicker. He wanted it to read-
"I love your sexy ass."
I am not joking. That was the actual message. Now every time I seem them, I'll be thinking that he's fixated on his wife's arse. Which is admirable after 20+ years of marriage but dude, come on... making someone else type that? Man...
Of course, major laughs were had later when my girl, Trace, asked what the blue rose meant. I informed her that "In the language of flowers, a blue rose means you have a sexy ass." With a completely straight face.
She fell for it for a bit.
2. Goofy looking guy, major Howdy Doody resemblance, comes into the shop and orders a decently sized bouquet (50 smackeroos) to be delivered to whom we assumed to be his girlfriend. He opted to fill out the card himself, and we left him alone to do so.
No lie, it took him 45 minutes to fill out the 2x3 inch card.
So of course we were WILD to know what the card said. And it may possibly have fallen out of the not-sealed envelope. Whoopsie.
Rather than the highly romantic message we were hoping for, it contained wishes for a good day at work and hopes for God's Blessings upon her.
We all fell the floor laughing. I barely made it to the bathroom in time.
It took him that long to come up with the least romantic thing possible. Mentioning work and the Big Guy. Hot.
Imagine our difficultly in keeping a straight face less than an hour later when a local cutie pie (who is a totally sweet lad) came in to order a significantly larger bouquet for delivery FOR THE SAME WOMAN.
And he wanted the card to be blank. Guys, don't do this. Please. Because then confused women call the shop wondering who the hell sent them the flowers.
Apparently, the woman is dating Howdy, and Cutie Pie is just hopeful. Awwww. How darlin'.
1. A local loudmouth (has a good heart, just is real obnoxious) called the shop for a dozen roses to be sent to his (equally loud, yet good-hearted) wife. Well done. But...
He wanted 11 red roses and one blue.
Guys, don't make us do that to a perfectly innocent white rose. They scream when we pull out the floral paint. Seriously.
But the card, THE CARD, was the kicker. He wanted it to read-
"I love your sexy ass."
I am not joking. That was the actual message. Now every time I seem them, I'll be thinking that he's fixated on his wife's arse. Which is admirable after 20+ years of marriage but dude, come on... making someone else type that? Man...
Of course, major laughs were had later when my girl, Trace, asked what the blue rose meant. I informed her that "In the language of flowers, a blue rose means you have a sexy ass." With a completely straight face.
She fell for it for a bit.
2. Goofy looking guy, major Howdy Doody resemblance, comes into the shop and orders a decently sized bouquet (50 smackeroos) to be delivered to whom we assumed to be his girlfriend. He opted to fill out the card himself, and we left him alone to do so.
No lie, it took him 45 minutes to fill out the 2x3 inch card.
So of course we were WILD to know what the card said. And it may possibly have fallen out of the not-sealed envelope. Whoopsie.
Rather than the highly romantic message we were hoping for, it contained wishes for a good day at work and hopes for God's Blessings upon her.
We all fell the floor laughing. I barely made it to the bathroom in time.
It took him that long to come up with the least romantic thing possible. Mentioning work and the Big Guy. Hot.
Imagine our difficultly in keeping a straight face less than an hour later when a local cutie pie (who is a totally sweet lad) came in to order a significantly larger bouquet for delivery FOR THE SAME WOMAN.
And he wanted the card to be blank. Guys, don't do this. Please. Because then confused women call the shop wondering who the hell sent them the flowers.
Apparently, the woman is dating Howdy, and Cutie Pie is just hopeful. Awwww. How darlin'.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
So...
I've been sans regular computer access for a bit now, but vow to do better at buckling down and writing a bit.
We went to Chicago for gift show last weekend, and I couldn't be more pleased with what we bought for the shop.
Also, I miss traveling with non-hearing impaired, menopausal people. Read- my girl, Jen.
No particular reason for that comment, I swear.
We ordered Lollia, an impossibly posh bath and beauty line, used by the Queen of All Media, Ms. Oprah Winfrey.
Placed a HUGE ribbon order at my own personal crack den, May Arts. I turned about a million shades of red when our salesperson looked at me fawning over double-faced lavender satin ribbon and said:
Speaking of junkies (and crack), I was rummaging, as I am wont to do, through Borders on Michigan Avenue, when I saw it.
Beg, Steal or Borrow: The Official BabyShambles Story
I may have possibly squealed and nearly trampled a small child in my rush to grab the book. And then stayed up most of the night reading it. I didn't think it was possible, but Drew is even lovelier than my girls and I previously thought. Also, my tendency to want to either slap or cuddle Peter continues.
On a completely unrelated note, Chicago was rather festive last weekend for some reason. Something about an inauguration?
We went to Chicago for gift show last weekend, and I couldn't be more pleased with what we bought for the shop.
Also, I miss traveling with non-hearing impaired, menopausal people. Read- my girl, Jen.
No particular reason for that comment, I swear.
We ordered Lollia, an impossibly posh bath and beauty line, used by the Queen of All Media, Ms. Oprah Winfrey.
Placed a HUGE ribbon order at my own personal crack den, May Arts. I turned about a million shades of red when our salesperson looked at me fawning over double-faced lavender satin ribbon and said:
"You're a ribbon junkie, aren't you?"
Speaking of junkies (and crack), I was rummaging, as I am wont to do, through Borders on Michigan Avenue, when I saw it.
Beg, Steal or Borrow: The Official BabyShambles Story
I may have possibly squealed and nearly trampled a small child in my rush to grab the book. And then stayed up most of the night reading it. I didn't think it was possible, but Drew is even lovelier than my girls and I previously thought. Also, my tendency to want to either slap or cuddle Peter continues.
On a completely unrelated note, Chicago was rather festive last weekend for some reason. Something about an inauguration?
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Awful
Since dying is one thing that we all must do, sympathy work is inevitable in the floral business. However, there are degrees of sadness associated with funerals.
You have the ones where the person was very old or very ill, and they're no longer miserable/suffering. Sad, but not completely awful for the friends and family.
Then there's the unexpected deaths- very upsetting for the loved ones, and from a professional standpoint, more difficult to keep your composure when assisting those associated with the deceased.
The most horrid, the absolute worst- a child's funeral. Nothing worse. Nothing.
We've one tomorrow.
I've done many consults for funeral flowers, and I must say, I've never started bawling during one. Till yesterday. I pulled myself together pretty quickly, but... my God.
The utter, utter devastation on the faces of the parents... I couldn't sleep last night. The mom's face kept popping up in my dreams.
She just stood there, tears pouring down her face. The dad cried like a baby.
I've no words. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But you know, I know that making things special for them might, MIGHT make the day slightly less horrendous.
No, nothing will. They're forever changed.
And since we're in a small town, we know everyone involved, which makes it so much worse. One of my best friends was his preschool teacher. His dad was on the fire department with mine. His mom is a very good customer at the shop. His sister just applied for a job here.
I don't know how we flower girls are going to get through tomorrow. I can't even comprehend what his family is going through. But still, we must go on.
You have the ones where the person was very old or very ill, and they're no longer miserable/suffering. Sad, but not completely awful for the friends and family.
Then there's the unexpected deaths- very upsetting for the loved ones, and from a professional standpoint, more difficult to keep your composure when assisting those associated with the deceased.
The most horrid, the absolute worst- a child's funeral. Nothing worse. Nothing.
We've one tomorrow.
I've done many consults for funeral flowers, and I must say, I've never started bawling during one. Till yesterday. I pulled myself together pretty quickly, but... my God.
The utter, utter devastation on the faces of the parents... I couldn't sleep last night. The mom's face kept popping up in my dreams.
She just stood there, tears pouring down her face. The dad cried like a baby.
I've no words. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But you know, I know that making things special for them might, MIGHT make the day slightly less horrendous.
No, nothing will. They're forever changed.
And since we're in a small town, we know everyone involved, which makes it so much worse. One of my best friends was his preschool teacher. His dad was on the fire department with mine. His mom is a very good customer at the shop. His sister just applied for a job here.
I don't know how we flower girls are going to get through tomorrow. I can't even comprehend what his family is going through. But still, we must go on.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Does anyone else have conversations like these with their mother?
Working closely with ones parent... not exactly an ideal job situ. But you know, I'm pretty lucky. Mom and I get along very well, actually like gangbusters.
It's not always perfect- I'm a bit morose occasionally, she can be overly ADHD around holidays. But we generally work very companionably together.
Our conversations do tend to be, um, ATYPICAL for a mother and daughter.
For example, take today. We discussed-
1. How the hell People magazine could have overlooked the cast of 'Skins' in the photo spread on the hottest whippersnappers under 25 in the annual 'Sexiest Man Alive' issue.
2. Who would we rather hang out with- R. Kelly or Prince. We decided (if in a controlled environment), definitely R. Kelly. He may be an abhorrent human being, but we think Prince might be a bit of a prick.
Seriously, it's completely hilarious.
It's not always perfect- I'm a bit morose occasionally, she can be overly ADHD around holidays. But we generally work very companionably together.
Our conversations do tend to be, um, ATYPICAL for a mother and daughter.
For example, take today. We discussed-
1. How the hell People magazine could have overlooked the cast of 'Skins' in the photo spread on the hottest whippersnappers under 25 in the annual 'Sexiest Man Alive' issue.
2. Who would we rather hang out with- R. Kelly or Prince. We decided (if in a controlled environment), definitely R. Kelly. He may be an abhorrent human being, but we think Prince might be a bit of a prick.
Seriously, it's completely hilarious.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Radio, Radio
As I failed to charge my beloved Nano sufficiently last night, it died midway through the workday. Since our CD at the shop is jacked to hell, Mom and I were forced to listen to the radio.
Several things-
1. My God, how much does Nickelback suck? NOT EVERY LINE HAS TO RHYME!!!
2. I love 'Violet Hill' by Coldplay. So sue me, I'm a sucker for strings.
3. Whoever covered 'I'm A Believer' recently ought to be first up against the wall when the revolution comes.
4. Also, whoever wrote 'So What' by Pink is a friggin' musical genius. BURNS. INTO. YOUR. BRAIN.
5. Jesus H. Christ, Richard Marx is on now. Right, am going home.
Several things-
1. My God, how much does Nickelback suck? NOT EVERY LINE HAS TO RHYME!!!
2. I love 'Violet Hill' by Coldplay. So sue me, I'm a sucker for strings.
3. Whoever covered 'I'm A Believer' recently ought to be first up against the wall when the revolution comes.
4. Also, whoever wrote 'So What' by Pink is a friggin' musical genius. BURNS. INTO. YOUR. BRAIN.
5. Jesus H. Christ, Richard Marx is on now. Right, am going home.
Sometimes,
people make me very, very stabby.
Yesterday, these two old battle axes came into the shop. They proceeded to-
1. Find every item that the price had fallen off of, and ask "HOW MUCH IS THIS?" Yes, they shouted.
2. Wanted to look at merchandise high up in a display, necessitating me getting out the step ladder.
Then they failed to buy said merchandise.
3. Used the bathroom. Plugged the stool.
Didn't purchase anything.
GRRRRR...
Yesterday, these two old battle axes came into the shop. They proceeded to-
1. Find every item that the price had fallen off of, and ask "HOW MUCH IS THIS?" Yes, they shouted.
2. Wanted to look at merchandise high up in a display, necessitating me getting out the step ladder.
Then they failed to buy said merchandise.
3. Used the bathroom. Plugged the stool.
Didn't purchase anything.
GRRRRR...
Monday, November 03, 2008
Tomorrow
Well, today first.
We've started the "floor move" at Iowa's Coolest Flower Shop AKA setting up for Christmas open houses (which start this weekend). It's a time-consuming and painstaking process, so naturally we chat quite a bit during this.
Since tomorrow is the election, it unfortunately came up. I say "unfortunately" because, let me put it this way, 4 of us are placing our votes for the next President of the United States, and 2 for the also-ran.
An argument ensued, causing me to exclaim the following to deflect the tension-
Okay, I just came up with the last two, but still.
Anyway.
Tomorrow.
I'm all choked up over what (hopefully) will happen, so much that I can't express myself in my usual semi-incoherent fashion.
But what TBogg said.
I'm just thinking about all my former students in Houston, the vast majority who were of color, and what they must be feeling right now.
The kids that initially assumed that since I was white, that I must be racist, due to some asshole teachers they had in the past. That couldn't believe that I was "cool."
That they now know that they can achieve whatever they set out to. The yes, hope for a better future.
And then I cry.
So tomorrow, I'm casting my vote in honor of all my kiddos. And everyone who laid the groundwork for this historic, amazing event.
We've started the "floor move" at Iowa's Coolest Flower Shop AKA setting up for Christmas open houses (which start this weekend). It's a time-consuming and painstaking process, so naturally we chat quite a bit during this.
Since tomorrow is the election, it unfortunately came up. I say "unfortunately" because, let me put it this way, 4 of us are placing our votes for the next President of the United States, and 2 for the also-ran.
An argument ensued, causing me to exclaim the following to deflect the tension-
"Oooo, look at the sky!" (it was 8 o'clock)
"My GOD, would you look at that. There's GLITTER all over the floor."
"Holy shit, it's the Pope!"
"LOOK OUT, I HAVE A LIVE HAND GRENADE."
Okay, I just came up with the last two, but still.
Anyway.
Tomorrow.
I'm all choked up over what (hopefully) will happen, so much that I can't express myself in my usual semi-incoherent fashion.
But what TBogg said.
I'm just thinking about all my former students in Houston, the vast majority who were of color, and what they must be feeling right now.
The kids that initially assumed that since I was white, that I must be racist, due to some asshole teachers they had in the past. That couldn't believe that I was "cool."
That they now know that they can achieve whatever they set out to. The yes, hope for a better future.
And then I cry.
So tomorrow, I'm casting my vote in honor of all my kiddos. And everyone who laid the groundwork for this historic, amazing event.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Regarding
my new obsession with Protea, my mom commented-
This is an Antherium, generally referred to in Iowa's Coolest Flower Shop as "little boy flowers."
Yes, I crack peen jokes with my mom. Isn't life grand?
(it really is)
I'm a little worried about your attraction to protea...although if it were antherium...florist joke..
This is an Antherium, generally referred to in Iowa's Coolest Flower Shop as "little boy flowers."
Yes, I crack peen jokes with my mom. Isn't life grand?
(it really is)
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
If a flower could be a Panda,
it would be a "Pink Mink" Protea. Cuddly, soft, fuzzy and adorable.
I'm in love. 
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
More fleurs
from my girl Wen's wedding a few weeks ago. This is an example of the bridemaid bouquets. 'Orange Unique' roses, red mini Gerberas, orange mini Callas, chocolate Cosmos and Crespidia accented with Beargrass loops. I wrapped the stems in fabric from the dresses, and secured it with diamante pins.
Yeah, I brought the bling.
*groans*
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
An open letter
to anyone who would be inclined to have the card read (on a floral arrangement you are ordering)-
You just announced to total strangers that you got laid. Last night, in fact.
You're welcome.
"I had a great time last night."
You just announced to total strangers that you got laid. Last night, in fact.
You're welcome.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Dear God
As I've mentioned, I'm doing the flowers for one of my best friends from college's wedding this weekend.
What I haven't mentioned is that I'm slowly losing my mind. I'm so distracted and stressed out, I've-
1. Set my iPod down somewhere in the house, and don't have a bloody clue where it is
2. Haven't been able to sleep (BOO!) or eat (YAY!) for the past week
3. Keep second (and third and fourth) guessing myself on the amount of fresh and supplies I'm going to need to schlep to Chicago for the blessed event
And today did not help. I-
1. Looked at the tab for the umpteen million mini calla lilies for said blessed event, and nearly died/crapped myself/passed out/combination of these things.
Two bucks more a stem than I quoted initially. Cost of fuel is impacting shipping costs. THANKS, CHIMPY! Lovely war we're having.
2. Upon running the new numbers in my head, I had a panic attack and broke out in hives. Seriously. I'm a nervous wreck on a good day, and this... this was not a good day.
3. Then my jeans fell down. See #2 on the first list. No, not the not-sleeping bit. The other one. Thankfully, I was alone in the shop/had cute knickers on.
The bleeding ulcer I've been working on for years is quickly becoming a reality.
I'm praying to St. Anthony (for the iPod) and St. Preston Bailey (for the flowers). Oh, and Jesus. Because that's how I roll.
I am so sorry for that last bit.
What I haven't mentioned is that I'm slowly losing my mind. I'm so distracted and stressed out, I've-
1. Set my iPod down somewhere in the house, and don't have a bloody clue where it is
2. Haven't been able to sleep (BOO!) or eat (YAY!) for the past week
3. Keep second (and third and fourth) guessing myself on the amount of fresh and supplies I'm going to need to schlep to Chicago for the blessed event
And today did not help. I-
1. Looked at the tab for the umpteen million mini calla lilies for said blessed event, and nearly died/crapped myself/passed out/combination of these things.
Two bucks more a stem than I quoted initially. Cost of fuel is impacting shipping costs. THANKS, CHIMPY! Lovely war we're having.
2. Upon running the new numbers in my head, I had a panic attack and broke out in hives. Seriously. I'm a nervous wreck on a good day, and this... this was not a good day.
3. Then my jeans fell down. See #2 on the first list. No, not the not-sleeping bit. The other one. Thankfully, I was alone in the shop/had cute knickers on.
The bleeding ulcer I've been working on for years is quickly becoming a reality.
I'm praying to St. Anthony (for the iPod) and St. Preston Bailey (for the flowers). Oh, and Jesus. Because that's how I roll.
I am so sorry for that last bit.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Gah
This weekend, I am providing the wedding flowers for one of my best friends from college. Wen is very attached to Winnie the Pooh. No, I'm not sure why. She just IS, much like I'm very attached to various substance-addled British rock and rollers.
I thought it would be sweet if I found a wee Winnie charm to sew onto the fabric I'm wrapping her bouquet in- just so she could see it. However, my searching of SE Iowa for such a thing did not bear (groan) fruit.
I realized that I should give up when I caught myself muttering, "Jeez, how hard can it be to find something with Winnie the fucking Pooh on it?"
I thought it would be sweet if I found a wee Winnie charm to sew onto the fabric I'm wrapping her bouquet in- just so she could see it. However, my searching of SE Iowa for such a thing did not bear (groan) fruit.
I realized that I should give up when I caught myself muttering, "Jeez, how hard can it be to find something with Winnie the fucking Pooh on it?"
Friday, September 19, 2008
*rolls eyes*
Today at the shop, the UPS driver arrived with a package from one of the tuxedo companies we use, containing the trousers from a tux rental from last weekend.
The trousers were completely shredded- entire inseam ripped out so badly that the winter-weight wool was stressed and frayed.
This was accompanied by a note from the manager of the tux company. It was pleasant. After the nasty note he sent last week (about the same wedding), I want to call him and suggest he look into meds for cranky fuckers.
I digress.
So, Mom called the groomsman's folks house, and left a message about the trousers. His mother called back and claimed that he had no idea what happened; that the trousers were intact as far as he knew.
Y'all, the pants looked like someone thought they were tear-aways. I've been drunk many times, but I have to say, I've never been so out of it that I didn't notice my entire crotchtual region was exposed to the elements.
We'll see what happens here.
To be continued...
The trousers were completely shredded- entire inseam ripped out so badly that the winter-weight wool was stressed and frayed.
This was accompanied by a note from the manager of the tux company. It was pleasant. After the nasty note he sent last week (about the same wedding), I want to call him and suggest he look into meds for cranky fuckers.
I digress.
So, Mom called the groomsman's folks house, and left a message about the trousers. His mother called back and claimed that he had no idea what happened; that the trousers were intact as far as he knew.
Y'all, the pants looked like someone thought they were tear-aways. I've been drunk many times, but I have to say, I've never been so out of it that I didn't notice my entire crotchtual region was exposed to the elements.
We'll see what happens here.
To be continued...
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Today in "unintended consequences"
At Iowa's Coolest Flower Shop, my girl, J, and I have been after my mom (our boss) for months to buy us a new glue pan- used for silk floral arrangements and other craftiness.
Our old one was on its last legs (literally) and took AGES to heat up to a somewhat acceptable temperature. Mom finally caved last week and bought a new one. YAY! Joyous shouts rang out throughout the land! Choirs of angels sang! All that!
So.....
Today I was creating a silk fall wreath, a veritable seasonal masterpiece of harmonious colors and pleasing shapes- designed to put one in the most "fall"-est of moods, when-
1. The phone rang
2. I was momentarily distracted. Unfortunately, this was directly after I dipped a silk leaf in the hot glue
3. Because of the distraction, I dripped some of the F*CKING HOT GLUE on my finger
4. Words, most of them obscene, others invoking various deities, nearly escaped my mouth
5. Ran to sink, ran cold water on burn
6. Then had to peel cool glue off really F*CKING BURNED SKIN. Which, as you may guess, DOES NOT FEEL PLEASANT
I now have a humdinger of a 2nd degree burn on my finger.
What really twists me is this- if we wouldn't have whined and complained as badly as we (read- I) did, I would have been using the old glue pan which didn't heat well, and I wouldn't HAVE A REALLY NASTY BURN ON MY FINGER. F*CK!
Grrrr....
Friday, August 22, 2008
Today in random
Several weeks ago, one of our local curmudgeons turned 80. He's always been lovely to me, but is.... a bit cranky, shall we say?
(some of his relatives sent him a bouquet of dead flowers on his b-day with a card that said "Happy Birthday, Dickhead.")
So today as a belated birthday present from a friend, I delivered a fifth of whiskey and a balloon bouquet to the aforementioned curmudgeon. He offered me a glass, but as it was 10AM and I was on the clock, I sadly declined.
I should have taken him up on it, because when I got back to the van, I noticed my leg was bleeding badly. His dog, while adorable, was quite jumpy and scratched the hell out of my leg. Hurts like a sumbitch. Could use some whiskey....
*headdesk*
(some of his relatives sent him a bouquet of dead flowers on his b-day with a card that said "Happy Birthday, Dickhead.")
So today as a belated birthday present from a friend, I delivered a fifth of whiskey and a balloon bouquet to the aforementioned curmudgeon. He offered me a glass, but as it was 10AM and I was on the clock, I sadly declined.
I should have taken him up on it, because when I got back to the van, I noticed my leg was bleeding badly. His dog, while adorable, was quite jumpy and scratched the hell out of my leg. Hurts like a sumbitch. Could use some whiskey....
*headdesk*
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Hee hee
Going to gift show for the shop this weekend. Two and a half solid days of gluttony, booze, shopping and me dragging the others around downtown Chicago looking for obscure Brit import Cd's. And music mags. And books.
You get the picture.
And the samples, DEAR LORD, the samples.
In order to entice the buyers, most vendors provide samples. And/or free drinkies. The best offer both. We at Iowa's Coolest Flower Shop are partial to Archipelago Botanicals and Thymes Unlimited samples. Why?
1. They are posh
2. They are easilystolen obtained from their large containers in the showrooms
In other words, I'll be calling QB and Kaz all weekend, bragging about the prime samples/booze/muso/food frenzy J and I have embarked upon. And they'll just be dying of envy.
Wait, those beeotches are going to see Russell Brand's stand-up gig this weekend.
Heifers.
Never mind.
You get the picture.
And the samples, DEAR LORD, the samples.
In order to entice the buyers, most vendors provide samples. And/or free drinkies. The best offer both. We at Iowa's Coolest Flower Shop are partial to Archipelago Botanicals and Thymes Unlimited samples. Why?
1. They are posh
2. They are easily
In other words, I'll be calling QB and Kaz all weekend, bragging about the prime samples/booze/muso/food frenzy J and I have embarked upon. And they'll just be dying of envy.
Wait, those beeotches are going to see Russell Brand's stand-up gig this weekend.
Heifers.
Never mind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
