Hanky Panky

In sixth grade I found myself on a bus traveling toward the most awful week of my life. The bus was, of course, disguised for the parents as a yellow school bus that was en-route to a winter outdoor education camp in the snow covered mountains. The enlightened kids saw it for what it really was, a week of bullying, bad food, strange excursions and a painful square dance where 3/4 the boys would balk at asking one of us girls to dance. Especially the fat tall girls. Which was basically me.

For whatever reason, however, I was optimistic. It wasn't because I was going up there with hoards of friends, or that my new snow jacket made me look like I had bosoms, or even the fact that I particularly loved the outdoors. In fact I was going up there friendless, in a blindingly bright shapeless 80's snow parka hand-me-down, and hiking wasn't really my thing.

BUT- my bag was full of Bonnebell chapstick, candy and various other miniature toiletries that were uncommon in the Tanner household- bribing me into undergoing one of the most awkward weeks of my life.

Fast forward to the first morning we woke up at the camp. We are interrupted from frigid icy sleep by the drill sergeant bark of a woman telling us we must take a shower before breakfast. Dutifully I searched through my duffle bag only to find that with all the items in my bag, I was missing a key staple. A towel.

OH.

HOLY.

CRAP.

"Excuse me" I told Ms. Granola as my turn was nearing, "Um, somehow I forgot my towel. Is there one here that I can use?"
"You were told to bring one on the list." She barked amid a shower of oatmeal spewing from her mouth. Obviously we were having oatmeal for breakfast this morning.
"I know." I tried to explain, "But somehow it didn't make it into my bag. Is there one I can borrow?"
"I don't know anything about that." She curtly answered, blowing the 2 minute whistle on the poor girl who had just gotten warm in the shower. "Next!"
"Well can I skip the shower today until I find a towel?" I asked hopefully. Searching her face for any sign of kindness.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked me over, distaste washing over her face. A chunky kid was disgusting enough, but one with imagined bad hygiene and a penchant for skipping showers was too much for her. "Everyone has to take a shower everyday. You are no exception." Her finger wagged and pointed into my face. "Let me find one for you. Next!"

In two minutes she was back and holding out the item that was to be used as a "towel."

I wanted to ask her if her nose was running, because what she was holding up was not possibly a towel. In her hand hung a hanky, a terry cloth hanky, something that would not have wrapped around a normal 80 pound sixth grader, let alone one that was 3 times the thickness of your typical 11 year old.

The towel was not as big as a hand towel, slightly larger than a face clothe and amusingly was supposed to cover me as I walked to my duffle bag and changed community locker room style in the cabin. If it hadn't been for the strict 2 minute time limit I could have changed into some clothes before I left the shower, but there was no time to change behind the curtain.

I looked at her in horror. Could she possibly be suggesting that the girl with the premature junk her her trunk wrap that tiny morsel of cloth around her body in a manner that would condemn her for merciless teasing the remaining 3 years of middle school? If it was now, I would have said, "I don't think so. Not today you crazy nudist." But at that point I took the towel and considered just how I would make my shuffle back to my bunk in anonymity.

I considered the option of using the towel to cover my face so no one would know it was me streaking across the floor. Maybe they would think it was the ghost of an insane former counselor who went crazy from the undercooked eggs and soggy toast we were to be inflicted with over the coming week. I finally settled on wrapping the towel around my waist, so only one large strip on the side of my leg was showing, my free arm covering whatever else I could.

Have you ever tried to cover yourself up with your arm and a hanky? It's difficult. Very difficult. I felt like Eve with the fig leaf. "I'm pretty sure he meant Banana leaves" I could imagine her saying. "Banana leaves make more sense. Who would cover themselves with a fig leaf (besides of course a dozen hopefuls on America's Next Top Model)? Yeah, lets go with the banana leaves. What do you mean they are all the way in South America?"

I proceeded to shuffle, the towel grasped in an iron grip as though I was holding on to the last bit of decency I had left. I dared anyone to look at me, to make eye contact in which I would fix them with an icy stare as cold as the room I was now parting the crowd like Moses through. "Make way," I wanted to shout, "Haven't you seen a fat kid in a tea cozy before?"

Thankfully the counselor had a little mercy, or an angel came down and told her she would be smitten with the pox if she didn't scavenger up a towel for the porky girl who just passed through the rings of hell and back because the next morning I had a towel of respectable size.

You can guarantee yourself that I have never forgotten a towel since. One indecent amount of exposure was enough for me to learn my lesson and garner a great embarrassing story as well. Seems like these things seem to happy to me waaay too often...

Language Barriers

There is a little Carl's Jr. right across the street from where I work in LA, surrounded by the city, bums and various characters that give me plenty to write about. Today I made my way across the street, ordered a diet coke and a side salad and proceeded to commence my lunch. As I was sitting there I happened to make eye contact with a small Mexican man who standing strait as an arrow might (and I say might) have come up to my belly button. He had to have been as round as he was tall, and he had the biggest lips I have ever seen. Honestly. I couldn't help my mind from conjuring the image of the frog on Thumbelina.

My first mistake was making eye contact, as soon as our eyes connected he stopped mid stride turned around and gave me a full once over, his eyes becoming very swishy. I wanted to laugh at his "suaveness" and in an attempt to hide it I made my second mistake-a half smile out of politeness. Working in the city I should know not to look at people and especially not to smile, but it's against my nature and something that I'm working on. Because of it I have had some awesome conversations and the result of this mistake today made a priceless conversation that I wouldn't have traded for anything.

After grinding to a halt on his way to the soda machine and turning completely around he began to work his magic on me. In a thick spanish accent he began with.

Him: "Hey beautiful lady... I like jor es-smile." He said as his eyebrows wiggling wildly.
Me: laughing, "Um... thanks."
Him: Whas shur name preety lady?"
Me: Now this is where I draw the line, no personal information that could link me to anything. "I'm sorry, I'm married." I say, pointing to my ring. Usually this statement works well enough to shy away any unwanted "suiters."
Him: "Oh, ok, hey Mary." He says with a triumphant smile from gleaning some information.
Me: Well this is awkward. I now have to explain that I didn't in fact give him my name, but that I'm spoken for. "No, my name isn't Mary, I'm married." I say, pointing at my ring again.
Him: Densely, "Oh. Is jor husband coming to mee(t) you?" He asks as though maybe I'll come sit with him if Jarom isn't.
Me: "Um... yeah." I say lying.
Him: "Ok, well, I eh-like jor beautiful es-smile." He tries one more time.
Me: "Thanks." I say as I try to ignore the further conversation he's trying to carry on. Finally, after standing their awkwardly staring at me he walks to the machine and fills his drink. As he walks past me I look at my iPod and try to ignore the smoldering look he is trying to pass over on me.

Sorry Don Juan, no thanks. I am Mary.

Going postcard-al

For the past few months I have worked for the coolest kids clothing company on the planet. My boss is awesome, my stores are cool, and I work in an exciting area of LA in the fashion district. You would think that the chic people and places I surround myself with would rub off on me, that I would pick up the art of dressing current, speaking in a offhand manor, and bypassing social flubs. But I confess I am as awkward and myself as ever. And for the most part I like it, it humors me, and most of the people I've met don't seem to mind either.

Over the past few days I have been driving around visiting stores. Most of the time I have strolled into a store with a gift bag for them, chatted with the shop girls, left a message for the owner and gone on my merry way. However, the second day into the driving, I found myself in an awkward position. You see, the address we shipped to was not a store, it was someone's home, someone who ran a web based company, someone who I wasn't sure how to approach.

Did I walk up to their door and knock? Introduce myself? Just leave the gift bag on the patio and not interrupt them at their home? I decided to call, but no one answered. Growing bold I knocked on their door, still no answer. I knew it was the right house, a package on the patio said the name of the lady I was trying to meet. And then the thought hit me, "Why not write a little note on the postcard inside the gift bag?" Perfect. Or was it?

Once back in my car with the pen glistening with ink and poised in my hand I wasn't sure what to say. How should I start?

"Hi. I came to your house but you weren't here. I'll just sit outside until you come home..?" Nope.

"Hey there, I peeked in all your windows, but you weren't there. I'll come back tonight...? Um... no.

So what I actually wrote was: (something like this)
"Hey so and so,
I came by thinking this was your store, but instead it was your house (which is adorable by the way). => I just wanted to introduce myself and bring you a little gift. I'm sorry I missed you but hopefully we'll have a chance to meet soon. I hope you are doing well. Let me know if I can do anything for you!

Holly

I intended to make a winning little note that suggested I was a normal person and not someone who just showed up at people's houses unannounced. After commenting on her adorable house (it really was adorable though), I sealed the creepiness by drawing a little smiley face.

Except my smiley face was not of the sweet variety. Mine came out in a shaking, slightly downward "v" and evilly smirking variety. Mine didn't say "hope to catch up with you soon!" mine said, "I WILL catch up with you soon- most likely when you are sleeping and won't see me coming..."

It was unintentional, the ink was wet on the glossy surface and I didn't want to smear it with my hand so I drew it freeform. There was no denying the end result was disturbing. Even the correction I attempted couldn't fully erase the evil smirking smiley face. It was creepy and kind of gave me the giggles. If she had seen me in my car it would have looked like I was laughing in a villainous manner at the evil note I was about to leave. Nice.

I'm sure she didn't even think about the note, but I did. And it made me laugh and wonder if I would ever not be awkward or if this was something I will be for the rest of my life. For the most part these moments make for good stories. Sometimes I'm very conscious of the fact that I'm a nerd and I feel like an well intentioned impostor. Has anyone else had something like this happen? I am so very uncool.

Email Mishaps Rant

(What I wished I could have done to my computer earlier)

Quick, answer:

What could be one of the worst thing that happens when you are emailing?

Delete a really long and involved email that you'd spent an hour working on? Eh, wrong.

Accidentally sent a personal email to the wrong person? Keep guessing.

Lost an important contact? Not even close.

Give up? Ok, how about send 50 of the same email to 160 potential clients within 1 1/2 hours? In case you'd like the math that's 8,000 emails. Yes, 8,000 emails sent accidentally by yours truly to what I had hoped would be some awesome new clients. Exit to story.

For the last few weeks (well months really) I have honing down an email list of boutiques that I'd love to carry Knuckleheads. I've called an insane amount of stores (literally over 400), ruled out which are no longer in business, which sell more traditional items, who I would be more likely to order from our awesome company. I called and asked for email address, begged assistants to let me get an email, pretended to be really cool and savvy when I talked to a shop owner and was truly grateful when each store gave me a chance to send our catalogs through an email for them to view.

Ironically, I had been waiting for the list to be complete so that I wouldn't accidentally send a repeat email, little did I know that I would accidentally spam every single contact in my gmail group, um, like 50 times. I'm still scratching my head over what happened.

Last night I put together an email, wrote a short note so that they wouldn't have to spend much time reading it and they could just get to the meat of the email which was the amazing catalogs I attached for their viewing pleasure. I waited to send it until today because I was trying to figure out a way to attach a picture of this season's clothes in the body of the gmail. Big mistake.

After trying a few times and sending myself a few emails with the picture unsuccessfully, I gave up the idea and settled on introducing myself and the line in a brief, non-obnoxious email. The catalogs would speak for themselves.

However, instead of just sending the email once, for whatever reason, my gmail account looped the sending action and repeated to send the email over and over and over and over. And over. In a panic I tried to delete the email. No avail. Next I tried to call google. Besides the fact that it was now 5:04 and they stop answering the phone at 5, did you know that it is completely impossible to speak with someone there? Or send them an email for that matter? Yeah. Seriously.

So I called my brother who was at a loss, and asked a girl in the showroom next to mine whose boyfriend is computer handy what to do. His reply? "Uh oh." Crap.

By this point I am receiving phone calls and emails asking to be removed from the email list, as well as truly concerned people who just want to let me know what's going on. I call and email each person who has not blocked me by now, but has actually taken a moment to let me know what's going on. Mind you these people don't know me but they are super cool about this drama. Bless them, they deserve a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Jarom says a basket of fruit. (=

Anyhow, at this point it was 6 and the LA marketplace was closing. Jarom says to pack everything up and get going since there is no help on the internet (apparently I am the only one who has had this happen) and we'll figure it out at home. I am so stressed out that I can barely eat anything. Really, I skipped dinner I was so sick to my stomach thinking I had blown the time and effort to make these contacts. In fact it is 12:10 and I still haven't eaten.

When I get home there are 207 emails in my spam box, but most of them are from a little while ago. In the last few hours I haven't received one. Hallelujah I think it's over. I think I lost a few people from this experience, but I also got to talk to quite a few who were really nice about everything and who were actually intrigued by our company. Go figure. The worse part was that the repeated email's attachments didn't even work. Honestly? So I will have to send the attachments again. Ick. Worse PR moment ever.

Bless the lady's heart who said to me, "Thank you for the emails! I couldn't open my attachment, can you send it again?" Not a comment about the insane number, just a kind note of thanks for thinking about her and sincere interest. She won major brownie points for her kindness.

I am hoping the repeated emails makes them think I am a determined individual instead of a crazy spammer sales representative. We'll see. But I learned something and I am going to save you the drama of what happened to me today:

1. Don't create an email and wait until later (or the next day) to send it. It won't send like normal and will freak out and go "War Games" on you. Forget about man controlling technology, that's what John Conner was trying to tell everyone.

2. If for some reason you don't like learning from other people's mistakes or you are a rebel and bypass #1, send out an immediate apology and personal email or call to each person who writes you or calls you. This is called recognizing you are an idiot- whether accidental or not.

3. If for some reason you do not follow # 1 and 2, leave the country immediately. People will be pissed. And they have a right to be. People have been tarred and feathered for less.

99 Things- idea stolen from Jill

Kinda' fun
The lines that are bolded are things that I have done...how about you?
(thanks Sheri)

1. Started your own blog
2.Slept under the stars
3.Played in a band
4.Visited Hawaii
5.Watched a meteor shower
6.Given more than you can afford to charity
7.Been to Disneyland
8.Climbed a Mountain
9.Held a praying mantis
10.Sang a solo
11.Bungee jumping
12.Visited Paris
13.Watched a lightning storm at sea
14.Taught yourself an art from scratch
15.Adopted a child
16.Had food poisoning
17.Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty (I've been, but it was right after 9/11 and we couldn't go up)
18.Grown your own vegetables
19.Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20.Slept on an overnight train
21.Had a pillow fight
22.Hitch hiked
23.Taken a sick day when you were not ill (Hasn't everyone??)
24.Built a snow fort (At BYU, that was soo fun!)
25.Held a lamb
26.Gone skinny dipping
27.Run a Marathon
28.Ridden in a gondola in Venice- The guy even wore a stripped shirt, it was awesome!
29.Seen a total eclipse
30.Watched a sunrise or sunset
31.Hit a home run
32.Been on a cruise
33.Seen Niagara Falls in person (No but I've been to Igazu Falls)
34.Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35.Seen an Amish community
36.Taught yourself a new language- not enough to count.
37.Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38.Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39.Gone rock climbing
40.Seen Michelangelo's David- Aren't there tons of them? I think I saw one in Italy. (=
41.Sung Karaoke
42.Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt Smells like rotten eggs. Funny, I think we had old faithful at home with us growing up too...
43.Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44.Visited Africa
45.Walked on a beach by moonlight
46.Been transported in an ambulance (when I was 3 and hit by a car)
47.Had your portrait painted (I've been drawn before, does that count?)
48.Gone deep sea fishing
49.Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50.Been to the top of the Eiffel tower in Paris
51.Gone scuba diving or snorkeling- both!
52.Kissed in the rain (My sister Julie in Barcelona, haha, "I've always wanted to be kissed in the rain in Barcelona!")
53.Played in the mud (As a kid, there was this park next to the Huntington Children's Library that they sprayed down until the ground was just sodden with water, and it cost a few bucks to play in the mud as long as you wanted. It was a whole town of mud. So fun!)
54.Gone to a drive-in theater (But never with a boy, only my friends family, so Jarom, when are we gonna do that??)
55.Been in a movie (Does an old back and white silent movie that I made for School count? Probably not).
56.Visited the Great Wall of China
57.Started a business ( I had tons of businesses as a child- one included selling my neighbors their beautiful leaves off their own lawns for a quarter. My neighbors were saints.)
58.Taken a martial arts class
59.Visited Russia
60.Served at a soup kitchen
61.Sold girl scout cookies
62.Gone whale watching
63.Got flowers for no reason (Once I jokingly asked this guy if my roomate's flowers he was delivering were for me, he asked me what kind I liked, and I told him Gerber daisies. The next day my roomate knocked on my door with a vase full of them, and when I ran downstairs to say thank you he had already left. Sweet huh?)
64.Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65.Gone sky diving
66.Visited a Nazi concentration camp
67.Bounced a check
68.Flown in a helicopter
69.Saved a favorite childhood toy
70.Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71.Eaten Caviar
72.Pieced a quilt
73.Stood in times square
74.Toured the Everglades
75.Been fired from a job
76.Seen the changing of the Guards in London
77.Broken a bone
78.Been on a speeding motorcycle
79.Seen the Grand Canyon in person (we did the 12 mile hike, camped a few days and hiked back up. One of the greatest vacations of my life.)
80.Published a book
81.Visited the Vatican
82.Bought a brand new car
83.Walked in Jerusalem
84.Had your picture in the newspaper
85.Read the entire Bible- I'm working on this right now actually.
86.Visited the White House
87.Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88.Had Chickenpox
89.Saved someones life- Well, one time I saved Whitney from falling down a hill at Central park, I told my teacher that I had saved her life, but I think she would have survived the short roll, so I guess no.
90.Sat on a jury
91.Met someone famous (Tasha Peterson and I ate at Harbor House with the kid who was on Charles in Charge. That was pretty awesome. He only ate half his sunday cause he was trying to maintain his weight. Pish.)
92.Joined a book club
93.Lost a loved one
94.Had a baby- I wish.
95.Seen the Alamo in person
96.Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97.Been involved in a law suit (with Abercrombie and Fitch and I won 2,512 bucks. Cha Ching!)
98.Owned a cell phone (How long ago was this written? Or is this the control question, to see if you are alive?)
99. Been stung by a bee (Twice, once on the butt which hurt immensely.

A Rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, except that's not your name, is it?

I have never been one who silently swallows stupid mistakes I've made, or ridiculous comments I've said for that matter. There is something about me that demands full disclosure, I enjoy laughing at myself. I don't mind admitting that a smart girl like me can spout out the kind of comments that make Rose Nylan look downright brainy. But every once in a while one comes out that I wish to goodness I'd stifled down, because they always happen around people who don't know me, whose first impression of me will forever be the girl "who said what??"

A few weeks ago before everything went to pot, before the rain really started to pour, the first event of many financial blunders directed this very frustrated girl to the Apple store to pick up a new power adapter cord for her Macbook. I had talked to 3 different people on the phone at Mac and finally I had found someone who pitied me and agreed to send me the insanely expensive 80 dollar cord that had sheered itself in two, in a mysterious manner, for free. The only problem was that I needed the cord that day, not in a few days like the man on the phone promised me.

In desperation I called the closest Mac store in Victoria Gardens explaining my predicament, and how my computer was dead and I needed to charge it and asking the girl if she would just give me one if I canceled the one in the mail. She said that would work and I could come in and pick it up. Elated I asked my mom-in-law Kim if she wanted to come with me. From there things went, well, a little south.

By the time we got to the Mac Store I was feeling that rush of freebie high. I would even go so far as to say I was hopped up on freeomones (the Pheromones coursing through your veins when you are about to get a rocking deal or you won something for free). Either way the conversation I had with the girl who was helping me was weird (like the conversations you got sucked into by the weird guy in the drama class who gave you the play by play of last nights episode of Star Trek, imitations and all kind of weird) but I couldn't seem to help myself, even as it was going on I was screaming "stop you look like a weirdo, stop talking" in my head. I was just too relieved/excited.

Me: "Oh my gosh, you are totally saving me!" (This said in a weird gushing sort of way) "I love Mac! Mac is the best! I tell everyone to buy Mac! Seriously, I've converted quit a few people now!"

Girl: (She's looking at me, trying to be hospitable and listen, but I can see written plainly across her face that a super hyper girl like me is probably not the publicity they are looking for. You see, macs are for cool people, artsy people, thinkers, not strung out speed addicts or at least people who act like them for no good reason) "I'm glad I can help." Is the standard answer she gave.

Me: "Seriously, PC is crap, it's Mac or bust man!" I say pumping my fist. (In my mind I am thinking, seriously? Who snuck the crack in my slimfast. Why am I talking this way, this is definitely not normal.)

Girl: "Yeah, we sure like our products here too." She said in the way someone talks to a homeless person who is getting riled up when you're afraid they're going to beat you up and steal your wallet. Nice and easy. "Ok," She said pointing to another associate, " Jill will help ring you up as soon as she's done with her customer." I can tell she is relieved to be getting away, which makes me feel awkward because I have no idea why I'm being so erratic myself. This is totally embarrassing.

"Me: "Thank you so much!" I practically shout. "Seriously, I am very grateful." Ok, yes! Finally a comment that doesn't induce an uncomfortable silence in which I speak more to fill the void- even if the thank you was a touch overly animated.

Her: (Obviously this has given her courage to give me her card in case I need further assistance. A bold move because I'm sure she thinks I'm nuts.) "No problem!" She says, handing me her card. "My name and number is on there in case you need anything else." In an effort to say something that would improve her opinion of me as a cool semi-intelligent person I proceed to give her a compliment on her beautiful name. Well it would have been a compliment. If I'd gotten the right name. In a flustered moment I proceeded to say hands down one of the dumbest comments of my life.

Me: "Victoria? What a beautiful name!" Gardens? Wow, seriously, that is so beautiful, Victoria Gardens..." As soon as it pops out of my mouth I know that I had made a blunder. Why can't I be like most people who say thank you and pocket the card, instead I have to read it out to her, as though she doesn't know her own name, or I might be overlooking a receipt for errors.
Her eyes narrow as she peers at me. I'm sure she is thinking, is this girl for real? And then, in the same breath if I'm not awkward enough, I finish lamely, "Oh, no, you're name isn't Victoria Gardens, haha, that's where we are huh? You're name is Mary Howard (or something). Wow, I swear I'm not stupid! (Yes, that gem also snuck out of my mouth).

Her: "Oh, no worries! Thanks for coming in." She said ushering me to the register, where I proceed to say more dumb things to yet another Mac employee before I grab Kim (who is still laughing at my ridiculous comments) and make a run for it.

Honestly? Who slipped the crack into my morning slimfast? Or has anyone else been hyper off freeomones?

It's still a mystery. But I don't plan on going back there for a while, as least until the "do not help this girl" poster has been removed from their break room.