A is for Asshole, B is for Bear....

Hi World,

My friend Red, at Redheaded Stepchild, forwarded an alphabet challenge in which you are supposed to write a post each day on the corresponding letter of the alphabet.  Sort of like Angels and Demons only less complicated. 

I wanted to participate because I love alphabet games but I was kind of caught up in this:

I still want to participate though, because, have I said?  I love alphabet games.  Since Blogger land rules have always been a mite blurry, I figured I can still catch up even though it is now, technically, April 3.  In fact, I think FEMA regulations totally allow for late to the game alphabet posting.  But I will make them short because no one wants to read old news, am I right?

A is for ASSHOLE:

If you checked in on April 1, you know by now that I work for a very nice hotel that was recently affected by the flooding that took place in New England a few days ago.

The hotel sustained serious damage and some of us were working from home to alert people who had reservations and to relocate groups and meetings.  During the course of the first day I had to relocate a wedding. A wedding?  Yes, we had a very nice young couple scheduled to get married and have their reception at the hotel on Thursday, so I spent the first post flood day, Wednesday, finding them a new place.  The bride did not cry a single hysterical tear.  She was amazing.  When we got her wedding set up in another hotel she was, imagine this, grateful for all my help.

 Then I started calling people who had reservations for the following day.  Along about 8PM I got a text message from someone I had called and left a message for explaining the situation and apologizing for the inconvenience.  It said, "You Really Suck".

Really, Asshole?  I suck?  Perhaps you do not know the meaning of "Suck".  When your slurple Lexus gets swallowed by a huge mud puddle it sucks, but it is not the end of the world.  When your place of employment or home gets swamped by floods resulting in many people not having a workplace or home, sometimes both, to go to, it sucks, but at least no lives were lost.  When you get word in the middle of the crisis that your aunt has passed away and you don't feel, given the circumstances, that you can make the five hour drive home for the service, that really sucks, but your family understands because they are great that way. When your dreamed about, carefully planned and fully paid for wedding is suddenly canceled due to circumstances completely beyond your or anyone else's control, and is relocated to a hotel that you never even considered, that really, really sucks, but you were able to get married. 

Having someone call you personally to tell you that your reservation for the next day is canceled due to flooding, and having the caller apologize, and then give you their number in case you should need further assistance, does NOT suck, and neither does the person who called you.  Asshole.

B is for BEAR.

What I have not mentioned, World, is that before the floods came to claim our yards and basements, I had given notice at my current job as I had recently accepted a position at a local university.  I don't want to give it up completely, but their mascot is a Brown Bear.  That's what I love about blogging.  Anyone reading now will know a little bit more about Chicken than the person that checks in six months from now, unless that person is very, very diligent, in which case they are probably a....Stalker....scary. 

I love where I worked.  I left for reasons that are splintered in a thousand different directions and complicated.  When I walked into the hotel today and saw the damage that was left behind, I went home and cried for the same splintered, complicated reasons.  I saw the hotel built and I was there for the greatest opening party ever except for maybe Atlantis Dubai (which I was not invited to. That sucked). I witnessed the growing pains, made friends, and learned so much.  Today was my last day there and I feel a little like a deserter leaving the wounded on the field.  I wish I was leaving under different circumstances.  Goodbye NYLO and thank you for everything.  Stay Unique.

Hey, you Bears.  Guess what?......I'm Chicken.  Hi!

Chicken out

(hint:  Chicken crossing the road, click click, oh my, what is this?)

JUST LEAVE SANDRA ALONE....

Hi World,

I know, it has been like two days and I have not checked in.  I tried to catch up today.  God, you all are prolific.  There were a lot of blogs to catch up on! 

Congratulations to SS for passing the most difficult section of the CPA exam.  Congratulations to Becca for "Not Drinking Jello Shots".  Sure wish I had been there for that. 

Joann and Dinners, glad to have you back in rare form.  Red and CB, thanks for being on top of things as alway....

So anyway, I've missed everyone, now let's talk about Sandra Bullock but in a nice way...

Here is a nice person.  Never has a bad thing to say about anybody.  Always funny, always upbeat, totally a girl next door type that you can imagine giggling with over wine and tapas, and the media is all over her.  Because her husband did a bad thing.

It's between them, media.  Leave them alone, give the girl some room, let them work it out.  There are children involved.  I don't want to know the dirt, don't want to see the other woman, don't want to see his tattoos (even if they are quite alluring), don't want to know how she is coping. 

We think we envy celebritites.  Really?  Think about something so private and heartbreaking happening to you and then think about parasites following you around night and day with the sole mission of  catching your every reaction and reporting it to the public.  I don't care how much people are paid, it is really not right. 

And the ironic twist is, you almost can't help but watch.  I've managed not to so far.  I'll continue my struggle because, I like you Sandra Bullock, and you need your space. 

Ahhh.  Got that out of my system.  So, World, you have not heard from me because, as you may have heard, Rhode Island is in deep water.  Not metaphorically, for once, but for real.  On Tuesday my little state experienced the worst flooding recorded in 100 years.  I work for a very nice hotel located on the banks of one of the rivers.  This is the view from our restaurant window on Tuesday afternoon:

That area used to be a deck and lawn. 

Here is the view from our roof a few hours earlier:

Usually there is a bank there leading down to the water. 

I usually do not reference my job at all because I think it is generally not a good career move, but if I'm not able to show up again for a few days, I wanted you to understand why.  I would really, really like to make things funny, in the style of slurple Lexus, but this is the second flooding we've gone through in two weeks in our state and many businesses and home owners have been affected.  Because this is not normal for Rhode Island, many homeowners and small businesses do not have the insurance needed to cover the expenses related to flooding.  I can normally turn anything light.  In fact, I think my psyche depends on it, but this is one of those situations where you say to yourself, "don't be a callous Ass, Chicken".

So I'll be back.  Please don't unfollow me.  I'm just getting to know you, my little Chickadees.  Oh, excuse me, can I call you that? 

Take care,

Chicken out

PS. Check out chicken crossing the road for maybe just a little bit of situation related humor.

Where in the World is that Stupid Chicken????

Hi World,

Please put your books on the floor and take out a pen.  This is a pop quiz.

There is only one question.  Answer it correctly, you pass.  Answer it incorrectly, you fail.  Amuse me with your witty comment, you pass with a little extra extra for creativity.  Suck up with false compliments, I kick your ass to Baltimore.  That's a loooong way from here. 

The question is:

Why hasn't Chicken posted an amusing anecdote tonight?

I forgot to mention this is a multiple choice quiz.  Is it because...

a.)  She is engrossed in a Max and Ruby marathon

b.)  She was too busy with littleb because once he came home and spotted the can of frosting on the counter (which the stupid Chicken neglected to properly hide in the top secret chocolate safe room) he immediately intuited there was chocolate cake mix nearby and then pitched a hissy fit because he NEEDED to make chocolate cake right now and he NEEDED to do it all by himself because he is a big (f$#@+) boy now?  (I have no idea why that swear word just resulted in a link.  I don't recommend linking to it because...Stalkers.  Scary)

c.) She was too busy explaining to Teenager Who Lives in the Basement that even though she bought chocolate frosting instead of vanilla, it doesn't mean she loves littleb more and is unobservant of his preferences, it just means she likes chocolate frosting more.  And by the way, she got a call from your school today and you have a little 'splaining to do, TWLITB.

d.) She was too busy eating chocolate cupcakes

e.)  She was too busy listening to a very concise and analytical insurance program comparison, drawn out in minute detail by BigB, and trying to respond in an equally serious manner.  While eating chocolate cupcakes.

f.)  She was embroiled in top secret email correspondence with her co-workers

g.)  She was too busy re-reading her own old posts because she is, after all, a narcissistic chicken

h.) all of the above

i.) none of the above

j.) Top secret reason which I invite you to intuit and comment on.  Come on Ashley, this is your chance to use the power of "N" for good.  Well not really.  Not for good.  Just for Chicken's amusement, which might be a good thing.  Chicken certainly believes it is. 

By the way, you guys, littleb has now decided that he wants to pee standing up.  So tonight he unzips his blue star footy jammies, assumes a manly position at his potty, and aims.  And nothing happens.  I said, "hold on, littleb, stay right there."  And I run into the bathroom.  I said "ready", and he says, "ok" but he was not okay because he was watching Max and Ruby and was positioned in a direction that would have led to wet furniture, and I said, "no you have to hold your peanut like you were before", so he re-assumes the manly position, and I turn on the water.  Nothing happens.  littleb says, "maybe I just have to poop."

Okay, my work is done here.

Good luck with the quiz.  Give it some thought.  Sometimes the answer is right in front of you.  But you don't really want to give the obvious answer, right?  You want to give the extra extra answer. 

Chicken out

The Chicken Crossing the Road has a special treat tonight.  It's about love and wine.  A case of wine.  Holy wine.

How to Dress a Chicken...

Hey World,

This morning I was reading from Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down The Bones, a source I often turn to for a creative jump start, and she suggested dressing completely out of character and seeing where it takes you with your writing.  This seemed like a reasonable suggestion to me.

So I put on an old biker jacket, some bowling shoes, and my son's Darth Vader mask.  I did look fabulous, as you can probably imagine, and it was fun entertaining my boys with my "Darth Vader as Wyatt from Easy Rider only with Bad Shoes" imitation. 

"Luke....LUKE....why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anybody tell me anything?...What are you doing to me now?...Shut up!...How could you make me hate you so?...Oh God, I hate you so much for letting me buy these shoes...."

But as much as I enjoyed the experiment, when I sat down to write I still had nothing.  I started and scrapped two or three posts and finally decided my time could be put to better use cleaning the fridge.  I have two things to say about cleaning the fridge:

1.) How does dust manage to gather in a refrigerator?  I mean, does a crowd of dust particles gather and hover around the door just waiting for someone to open it, and then when someone does open it, does the whole crowd rush in and take up residence under the meat tray?  Do they think they are on vacation in Aspen?  Do they get high on the cold air, procreate, and multiply exponentially?  I think that is probably how it happens. 
2.)  Why do I have so many salad dressings and why does no one use them?  Today I threw out all of these due to expired dates.

I guess we can add Salad Dressing to the list of things I waste money on.

This would be in addition to my insane ritual of going to the grocery store every Sunday and buying a multitude of fresh greens and vegetables only to throw them away the next Sunday.  Every Sunday, as I enter the grocery store, I warn myself, "do not get carried away with the veggies because you know you are a lazy sod and even though you have every good intention of sauteing spinach and creating healthful salads it WILL.NOT.HAPPEN!"  That's what I tell myself, but within 10 minutes of entering the store, I'm surveying the many varieties of lettuces and peppers and imagining all the colorful, nutritionally balanced, delicious meals I can make with all of these beautiful vegetables.  It's like I'm channeling fucking Alice Waters.  And before you can say TOTALLY INSANE CHICKEN COMING THROUGH I have the cart loaded down with roughly 3 million dollars worth of vegetables, which are inevitably destined for the garbage bin even though I well know that somewhere people are starving.  Then I have to justify my actions or have a complete neurotic breakdown, so I tell myself I'm supporting farmers and promoting the local economy. I really believe that stores use subliminal messaging.  Sure, it sounds like Harry Chapin wafting through the sound system, but underneath that a soothing voice is saying,

"youwantplumtomatoesandbeefstaktomatoes, youknowyoudo, youneedthem, that'srightseehowredtheyare, youlovetomatoes...."

My pantry reveals a similar pattern:

I counted five different kinds of beans in there.  Do you know when the last time was that my family  sat down to a meal of beans?  Like...let me see.....Never...And yet, I somehow felt the need to be all stocked up.  In my defense, I do not feel as though this kind of stockpiling is a true waste of money.  Under normal circumstances, it is true that my family will not touch black beans regardless of how much cheese I disguise them under.  However, we do live in the Northeast where the weather is unpredictable.  We get hurricanes, blizzards, and torrential rains.  I am ready.  It is conceivable that my family might someday benefit from my wackadoodle bean buying forays in the event that a nor'easter arrives unannounced and knocks out the power for a week necessitating meals prepared from the canned goods supply. We'll also be prepared if, God forbid, a Zombie invasion takes place like it apparently did over in the Bloggess' neighborhood yesterday (and I missed it.  Damn).  Now if I only had the Mannix's wine cellar to go with my beans, I would truly be prepared for any emergency. 

Well this has been fun, World, but I've got to make a grocery run.  I need some fresh veggies and I'm almost out of salad dressing; not to mention, I'm out of large red kidney beans and chickpeas. 

Enjoy the rest of your weekend,

Chicken out