Merry Friggin' Christmas

Jase and I are currently visiting family for the holidays. We braved the crowds on Christmas Eve to grab some last minute "staples" at the nearby grocery store. As Jase, my father-in-law, Doug, and I were hunting for parking spots, we caught a glimpse of why people bug me pretty bad sometimes (was that a little harsh?). We tried to get a picture with our cell phones, but all three of us failed. So, let me paint you a picture with words:
A middle-aged woman was unloading groceries into the back of her SUV. She had just finished putting the last bag in the trunk when the unbelievable occurred. Mind you, it was Christmas Eve--at a grocery store. "Crazy" does not begin to describe the hoards of people who were driving way too slow in the parking lot and/or standing in the middle of the aisle as if he or she were the ONLY one in the world. With that in mind, this gem of a woman had one hand to her left ear (clearly her conversation on her cell phone was way too pressing to allow her to put the dang thing down for two seconds. I'm thinking she was talking to one of two people: Santa Claus or Barack Obama). But it gets better...in her other arm was her precious pooch who I will call Larry. Larry was a dachshund that was dressed as Santa Claus. That's right. Good ol' St. Nick in doggie form. I wish you could have seen it. There was some serious slippage going on, and Larry looked as though he may fall through his considerate owner's grasp at any moment. But there he remained (because he had no choice), with what little dignity a dog can have with his legs dangling through the bottom of a miniature Santa suit (Side note:dogs should not be at grocery stores unless they are service animals. True or False? True).
The woman looked around and around, as if ready to flag down the first person she could find, as if she was seriously in peril. Why? Oh, because she needed to close the hatch to her car and clearly, her hands were otherwise occupied with more important things like a cell phone and a wiener dog. She was unable to perform the duty herself. So, she enlisted the help of a sixteen-year-old "cart/bag" boy, because it's his job, right? The boy looked less than enthused as he wheeled her empty cart back to the cart bin and she merrily went on her way, hatch closed, completely unaware of the backup of traffic she had caused. Merry Christmas, lady. I hope Santa brought you a big slap in the head...not really, that would maybe knock some sense into you and then I wouldn't have anything to write about. Until next time...and you better believe they'll be a next time ;)
Oh, and for a really great(and slightly cynical) post about Christmas cards/letters, see my favorite pharmacist's blog here: www.atoughpilltoswallow.blogspot.com

Come, Come Ye Saints...or Don't

My husband, Jason, and I are devout members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. That's right, we're "Mormons." In our faith, we dedicate our time and talents to the Church because it's the right thing to do, because we believe whole-heartedly in doing "good," because it feels great to do something for someone other than yourself, because that's what we learn at church (to serve others--by doing so, we are serving our Savior), and because (let's get real) we're secretly hoping for increased blessings from on High.

Jason joined the Church later in life, and to my complete amazement and admiration, has not faltered once in his Church service and testimony of the Gospel and Jesus Christ. This process has included him serving in some not-so-desirable positions such as teaching (and chasing) crazy seven-year-olds, and dealing with 11-year-old boy scouts. Yikes. And although my husband may lack skills in putting the toilet seat down, he makes up for it in the "Whining" department. In other words---HE DOES NOT WHINE. EVER. It has been a thrilling experience to watch him grow and serve as a real, live "Mormon" (he's better at it than I am, but don't tell him I said that).

Recently, Jase and I moved, and thus, found ourselves meeting at a new church building, at a new time, and with many new Mormons, and although I love my fellow Brothers and Sisters, they can be pretty weird (I can say that because I am one). Jason recieved a "calling" or volunteer position to teach a Sunday School class once a month...and to set up chairs every Sunday before church. This process involves getting to church 20 minutes early, and, you guessed it, setting up folding chairs in one room--simple enough, right? Teaching a group of grown men who have lived the religion for their entire lives would make anyone's palms sweat, especially a convert of only 3 years. But no, that hasn't really phased Jason...at all. What has got him worked up though? You guessed it--the chairs! Those darn folding chairs! Why? You ask? Well, let me tell you: Because people are selfish and ridiculous and I want flick them in the forehead somtimes.

This past week, Jason spent about 2 days, that's right, I said 2 days making phone calls to fellow church members to see if any of the men would take over his chair duty while we're visiting family. Mostly Jason just left a lot of messages and received no phone calls in return (typical). But there was one response that really got me going. You know when I said that Jason doesn't whine? Oh, well, I do. Oh, do I whine! I'm a master at it! And sometimes, there really isn't any other choice but to FREAK OUT about something or someone. This was the fellow church member's response to Jason's plea (ridiculous):

Church member (talking to Jason): "Um, well, I don't know. We don't really like to get the kids up earlier than they have to. And we don't like to take two cars if we don't have to, either. Yeah, so, I don't think so..."

Hmmm. Oh, really, Church member? Really? Yeah, I bet the early Saints of the Church didn't really want to watch their homes be burned to the ground, or walk thousands of miles in extreme heat and/or cold only to arrive in the Salt Lake Valley where they had to start from scratch, to build church buildings and homes and businesses with their bare hands...and that's if their hands hadn't been amputated from frost bite! I bet they didn't want to have to watch their kids starve or like to get them up early in the morning to bury their mother or father or sister or brother, either. Hey, Mr. Church member, I'm sure they didn't really like the fact that they had to leave nearly every earthly possession and suffer illnesses you and I know nothing of. Also, I bet those covered wagons and ox carts were real comfortable and warm and cozy, and it was just like driving a heated, upholstered car to church. Oh, wait. No. It wasn't like that AT ALL--AT ALL! Oh, and hey, Mr. Church member! I don't know if you knew this already, but we have one of the most incredible heritages as a religion, men and women who sacrificed EVERYTHING, and I do mean EVERYTHING, so that you and I could have a church building to set chairs up in. So, Mr. Church member, go ahead and stay home and don't come to church 20 minutes early to set up 50 folding chairs and don't teach your young children the value of service and sacrifice. We wouldn't want to inconvenience you. You big, idiot. Bless your heart, Mr. Church member, but in the words of Andie Anderson in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, "I love you, but I don't have to like you right now." Sheesh.

Oh, and one more thing, Mr. Church member. I thought of one other person who probably did something for you that He didn't really "like" doing, but He did it anyway because that's the kind of perfect, loving person He was. I'll give you a hint. His name is contained in the word "Christmas" and his name isn't "mas." Just chew on that for awhile.

Merry Christmas! Until next time...;)

Picture Perfect

The following are actual pictures taken with my cell phone:

Rough day, huh, Tina?

And no...I'm not going to stop "worring" about my printing needs. Hmm...the irony...

Hmmm...

I was at Walgreen's two days ago. They had one of those makeshift "clinics" set up for Swine Flu vaccinations. I was perusing the "As Seen on TV" aisle when I overheard a conversation with an 80-year-old woman and one of the nurses at the check-in table. The dialogue went a little something like this:

Customer (as she is handing in her completely filled out paper work): What is this for?

Nurse (taking the clipboard from the woman): It's for the flu vaccine

Customer: The what?

Nurse: For the flu. You know, the N1H1 flu

Me (in my head): I could have sworn the "Swine Flu" was the H1N1...unless every single media source and newbroadcaster has gotten the letters mixed up until now?! And why wouldn't you just say the "Swine Flu," lady?

Customer: Oh, well, do you think I should get the shot?

Me (again, in my head): I thought you already handed in the preliminary paper work SO that you COULD get the shot?

Nurse: Well, it's up to you. It won't protect you from the seasonal flu

Customer: The what?

Nurse: The seasonal flu. You know, the regular flu.

Customer: What's the difference....

Me (in my head): I have to walk away before I pass out from frustration...

...and so I did. I walked away and left the two to continue their riveting conversation. And then I laughed (possibly out loud) because I'm a really mean person inside sometimes. Happy Holidays! And here's hoping you don't get the N1H1...Until next time ;)