Sunday, February 14, 2010

There is something so wrong with this picture...

...I am writing, and I have the Lawrence Welk Show on in the background. (Do you know they air that show about twelve times a weekend on the local PBS stations???)

And I am singing along with every song.

Why do I know all of these songs?

How old am I, anyway?

Apolo Anton Ohno...

...you could not be any cuter if you were raising seeing eye dogs as you skated away with those medals.

And, seriously, HOW ON EARTH DO YOU DO IT?

I guess there's a reason why you are the Olympian, Apolo Anton Ohno (that name is kinda like Charlie Brown's) and I am the one blogging about you.

You're awesome.


At the grocery store today...

Two kids were running around like monkeys and jumped in front of my cart out-of-nowhere.

I most certainly DID NOT hit the child with my cart, but he screamed to his mother, "She almost KILLED me!" I walk quietly away with my cart. The mom shouts after me, "FOR REAL????" Nobody loves kids more than I do, but I can't stand kids (and parents!) like that.

For some reason (and I really am not sure WHY, the stories aren't similar at all, except they illustrate how horrible and rude some people are.) this reminded me of an incident at the bookstore once.

I dug-out a nearly five-year-old email documenting it...it's best to keep the original flavor of the ordeal...so, here it is in its entirety.


May I present to you one of the greatest stories in the history of "I Work in Barnes and Noble and Have Learned that People Who Like to Read Can Also Be Idiots" stories.

Family is sitting in the children's department. They are rude. (and stupid and trashy)They make a mess and they leave.

I put on my coat and clock out. I just worked for 9 hours on a Sunday, I had somewhere to be, I wanted out of there!

Man comes back into the store and stops me on my way out.

Man: Did you find a black ski cap?

Diana: I'm actually on my way out, but you can check the kid's department and if anybody turned the hat in, it would be at the lost and found up front.

I get stopped by Mel to talk over something.

I finally leave the store and walk to my car.

Man's wife had in the meanwhile pulled up her car to the front of the store and he's getting into the car.

I hear everything they are saying.

Woman: There's the girl that works there, ask her if she knows where the hat is!

Man: I ASKED her already. And you know what she f-ing SAID to me? (whiny voice.) "I'm offfffffffffffffffffff."

I storm over to the freaking idiot and go:

Diana: Actually, I did not SAY that. I SAID that I was on my way out and that you could check the kid's department and the lost-and-found. I just worked 9 hours and have someplace to go and need to leave. It's not my responsiblity to find your hat!

(Okay, I have been VERY stressed lately, this is really not the right time to cross me.)

Man: (taken aback because Diana is usually a rather timid thing) Don't worry about it.

Diana: Oh, I am NOT worried, but I am also not a rude person and don't appreciate my words being twisted around like that.

I go home, but our story does not end there.

My friend Brian and I talk on the phone when I get home.

Brian: So, the family came back in, looking for the hat and they FOUND the hat (YOU CAN ALL BREATHE A SIGH OF RELIEF!), and when they were paying, the wife said to Christina,

"I can't believe you would have such a BITCH work in the children's department. We just wanted her help and you know what she said to us? (whiny voice) I'm offffffffffffffffffffffffff."

(which is ridiculous, since the wife wasn't even THERE and didn't witness anything, except for me running after her idiot husband in the parking lot and attempting to tell him off.)

Seriously, if there's one thing I know, it's that I'm WONDERFUL in that children's department and am wonderful with children and of all the horrible names you can call me, bitch is not one of them!!!!!!

WHAT DID THEY WANT ME TO DO?

Lock down the store so nobody could get out in case someone was trying to steal the stupid hat?

AND IT WAS A SKI CAP.

If someone came to me and asked them to find their, I don't know...engagement ring...or BABY or something...I'd help them even if I was clocked out and had my purse and coat and was GOING OUT THE DOOR....But COME ON!

I just can't stand classless, rude people..

So, I decided that I'm not going to let the last two years be in vain. I'm going to write a book, the even-numbered chapters will be Barnes and Noble stories and the odd-numbered ones will be my interview stories. (The Night Club one when I was worried I wouldn't make it out alive. The one at the play publishing place that the HR woman told me that the guy I would be working for has made everyone cry at least once and that it was a very rewarding job, because each day, I would leave and feel happy just to have gotten through another 9 hours with him alive. And, of course, we must not forget...the place that shook my hand, said, "DIANA WELCOME ABOARD!" and yet still didn't give me the job!) Tales of Working in a Bookstore (and Tales of Trying to Not Work in a Bookstore Anymore.)

Honestly, if I ever get to the point where my life is so empty and miserable that I'm giving trouble to some random poor soul who works in Barnes and Noble, I'm counting on each and every one of you to just kick me in the head.

So, be nice to your retail workers. We're doing the best we can and just because we're working retail doesn't mean we're stupid or uneducated and immature. Please.

Happy Valentine's Day

On Friday, somebody asked me if I was really depressed about the approaching Valentine's Day.

I pretended I didn't hear her.

Because if I HAD responded to her, I would have went on a soap box and ended-up coming-off insecure and overcompensating, like I really AM depressed and am doing my best to cover it up...so, I just didn't say anything.

As I was on the train home that evening, an older woman next to me started asking me about my Ipod...how many songs I had on it, what kind of songs I had on it, if I liked it.

Of course, if you answer a total stranger's question about your Ipod, it just invites them to ask more and more.

She asked where I had been and where I was going.

She asked about my family.

She asked about my mom, and about my dad...and I really should have just lied, but instead did tell her that he was no longer alive, and, of course...that just gave way to many more questions. (And I got to hear about every tragic thing that had ever happened to her, too.)

Finally, she asked if I was married...no, I'm not...boyfriend...no, don't have one of those, either...and she acted all sad...and asked me why.

I admit...it's very hard to feel secure as a single woman when the majority of the world is telling you that it's impossible for you to be happy and complete as one. Just when I'm feeling 100% okay (or close to it) with things the way they are, somebody makes a comment like that and I wonder if something is desperately wrong with me that this doesn't bother me as much as they think it should.

Am I supposed to make it my life's obsession? Am I supposed to devote all of my time to "finding somebody" just so I "won't be alone" anymore?

I have been reevaluating my life a lot lately...yes, I do waste more time than I should on television shows (I'm looking at you, The Millionaire Matchmaker) and rereading the same books (Jane Austen will never get old!) and playing around on Facebook (I can't help it if my status updates have a following). I should be using that valuable time towards writing more (nobody can write for me), volunteering (I already do, but for some reason, helping really nice kids at church doesn't seem to be as world-changing as I'd like it to be), and socializing.

Now is the time to really make things happen...and why should ending singledom really be my top priority when I have about ten thousand other things going on?

True, I don't make millions, but I value my job and have already accomplished and seen a lot of cool things! I'm a writer, and a pretty good one, and one day, I hope that my stuff can really be out there and I can be one of those people that get to do what I love for a living. I have a fantastic family, a baby nephew who cracks-up when I enter the room, and a four-year-old niece who runs to me and acts like I'm a celebrity whenever she sees me. My life is filled with friends and the arts and literature and the most incredible city in the world.

And, on top of that, people are always telling me how funny and cute I am! That's gotta count for something.

And yet...despite all of that...people think I am supposed to be sad and depressed...and part of me is kinda-sorta-just-a-little-just-a-little little tiny bit-starting to believe that.


Why?

Diana Rissetto