Greek To Me.

So this happened:

-Hey, can I get three chicken souvlaki pitas to go with roasted potatoes and a greek salad?
-3 pitas with potatoes and 1 greek salad. Anything else?
-Actually, a greek salad for all three pitas. Roasted potatoes and a greek salad for each pita.
-You want potatoes and a salad with all of them?
-Yeah, thanks.
-But the pitas only come with one side.
-That's fine.
-So which do you want?
-Both. For all three.
-But you can only have one side.
-Right, I get that. Sorry. This is kind of funny. [girl not laughing.] So it's 3 pitas with a side of potatoes and then 3 side salads.
-I'll have to charge you for the salads.
-I understand that.
-OK. 3 pitas each with potatoes as a side and 3 salads but not as the sides.
-Wait, what? Now I'm confused. I do want side salads. Did you say that?
-But not as your sides. I'm charging you extra.
-Right, OK.
-And did you want roasted potatoes for all 3 pitas because they actually come with french fries.

And then my head exploded.

First Impressions.

Someone who met my mother for the first time over the weekend described her as "a rebel with a gentle kindness."  That has to be the best description ever, and if you know my mom, it really does sum her up perfectly.

It'd be nice to make such a good first impression.

I remember being introduced to a new person at work one time and upon meeting me, she turned to my boss and said, "I see what you're saying. Long arms."

Drop The Basket Yogi.

Congress completed a bill yesterday that will help protect credit card customers from interest rate hikes and rate increases on already existing balances.

"It's great," said a man I made up solely for the purposes of this post. "I feel safer already."

The bill also included a provision to allow people to bring loaded guns into wildlife refuges and national parks. Seriously. It's in the same bill. When reached for comment about this addition, a moose from Denali National Park said, "Well, shit."

I thought the whole idea behind credit card reform was to put an end to those huge surprises that show up when you open your bill.

zing.

When's Lunch?

I suppose the 15-minute break doesn't exist in outer space. While watching footage of astronauts tune up the Hubble Telescope last night on the news, it occurred to me that these people show up to do work.

It makes sense on a few levels. First, where would they go on a break? It's an ironic little twist that in the vastness of space they could really only float in the corner of their shuttle.
-What are you doing?
-I'm on break.

Plus, with the help of the best communication technology money can buy, they are in constant contact with their employer. That's part of the reason I would be the worst astronaut ever.
Crewmate: Jess, Houston's on the phone for you.
Me: [waving my hands, shaking my head with wide eyes and slowly whispering] I'm not here.
Houston: Um, yeah, we can see you.

Note: I don't think they use phones in space. It'd be cool if they did though. Every time the phone rings a mission specialist shouts out, "I'll get it!" and then doggy paddles over to the rotary.

What's In A Name?

My grandma has a friend named Dorkus.
The woman's name is Dorkus.
Say it a few times.
I think it's spelled Dorcas, but with a name like Dorkus, why quibble over spelling?
And people call her Dork for short. I'm not kidding about any of this.

So with that in mind, this is a conversation I had with my parents on Mother's Day:

Mom: We went out for breakfast with Grandma after church and saw Dorkus.
Dad: No we didn't.
Mom: Yes we did. Dorkus was at the restaurant.
Dad: That was Toots.
Mom: Steve, she just called her that to be cute. "Hey, Toots!" Like a nickname.
Me: I thought people called her Dork.
Dad: Dorkus and Toots are two different people.
Me: So what was that other woman's name?
Dad: Toots?
Me: Yeah.
Dad: Her name is Toots.
Me: Dad, Toots isn't a name. It's like calling a guy Brosef. His name isn't actually Brosef.
Dad: Who?
Me: Is Tutz spelled T-U-T-Z or T-O-O-T-S?
Mom: T-O-O-T-S.
Me: Toots? Like toot? That doesn't seem right.
Mom: It's right.
Dad: Toots is short for Ttt...Taa...Tuuu..Whatever. She's not Dorkus.

Glad we cleared that up.

Now Boarding All Rows.

You know how they let First Class passengers board the airplane before everyone else, even though that makes no sense whatsoever? What kind of person wants to spend any more time than necessary on a plane? Plus, putting people at the front of the plane first is what causes all those awkward aisle delays.  Half step, stare at aisle number.  Half step, hide annoyance as someone can't lift their carry-on into the overhead.  Half step, try to figure out who you're going to be sitting next to and pray it's not one of those selfish businessmen who sit with their legs wide open and never lift their arm off the armrest. (Either we split it, or no one gets it!) 

I recently heard the slow procession of Coach passengers through First Class described as The Poor Parade.  When you get over the fact that it's mildly insulting, it might help explain why First Class passengers are so eager to board a smelly plane first and sit there while row after row of half-stepping people shuffle past them.  I've never sat in First Class but I imagine there's some sort of sick satisfaction experienced while watching the parade.  Like when the electronic door at a store is broken and you stand there for a second, jog in place a bit, and finally decide to use the regular door right next to it.  When it happens to you, it's kind of annoying, but if you were to sit there and watch 100 people deal with that broken electronic door, it might be amusing.

That's A Deal Breaker, Ladies.

I love a good catchphrase.  Actually, I love any sort of catchphrase. To be honest, I probably love bad catchphrases more than the really clever, well thought out ones.  

One of the funniest comedians I've ever seen used to do open mic nights to completely silent crowds.  Joke after joke, silence.  I thought she was hilarious, so I was always the only person laughing. She'd push through her set and end by saying, "Bye. I'm Tessy." in a low monotone before dropping the mic Chris Rock style and walking out.  And then three people would look up from their coffees to clap. 

I wish "Bye. I'm Tessy." was the universal way to exit awkward conversations.  Just say it, drop whatever you're holding, and walk away.

The guys I used to work with spoke almost exclusively in their own created catchphrases.  I once went through an entire 8-hour shift hearing only, "That's a good one, dude." 

(To say this correctly, nod your head firmly on "good" and pronounce dude as "do")  

This phrase can mean anything.  It can mean that something really is a good one, like a joke or a suggestion, it can be a statement of acknowledgement, or it can mean that you have have no intention of doing whatever someone has asked you to do.  Which is why hearing it over and over during a busy workday can be so hilarious/incredibly stressful.  

The funny usually comes later.

The best part about a catchphrase is that all it requires is repetition. If you say it often enough, you can use it whenever you want.  It doesn't necessarily have to make sense or apply to every situation, but if it happens to work out that way, that's a double bonus.  This appeals to me on so many levels because I'm usually saying the wrong thing anyway.  It'd be nice to have a tidy little saying to use in the following situations:

1) When I don't know what the people around me are talking about.

2) When I'm asked, "What do you think?" after I've drifted out of the conversation for a minute thinking about how cool it would be if those singing waiters from chain restaurants showed up on public transportation with cake and a fun birthday song.

3) When I have run out of things to say.

I'll have to think about it. 

Attention Voters.

The owner of Panama's largest grocery store chain won the country's presidential election yesterday.

Ricardo Martinelli was declared the "indisputable winner" with 61% of the vote, a Club Card, and a discount for bringing his own reusable bag to the polls.

Martinelli's campaign focused on widening the Panama Canal for larger carts, a plan to help the nation dig out of the global financial crisis by honoring double coupons, and a bold promise to make legislative sessions in the National Assembly run more like old episodes of Supermarket Sweep.

Rack 'Em.

If I were a professional billiards player, I'd lay down on the table for every shot.
I think that would be pretty funny.

That'll Do, Pig.

Because the people of the world currently don't have enough to worry about, Swine Flu is making the rounds.

A few words on swine flu:
Really? Swine flu? Did we even know about this? Was that what that "Penelope" movie starring Christina Ricci was about? The news just started talking about it like it was something we all saw coming. "In other news, swine flu is here. Buy a mask and don't hug pigs."

A big part of the problem is the name. It just sounds bad. In America, government officials have asked that we stop calling it swine flu and instead call it H1N1.
Right.
That's like someone who has a nickname all their life and then one day insists on changing it to sound grown up.
"T-Bone!"
"I go by William now."
"Whatever, T-Bone."

I'm the first to admit that I'm a terrible hypochondriac so now not only do I have to avoid strangers with the sniffles, I also have to be concerned about rogue farm animals and BLTs. The medical advice dispensed through the media says to wash hands, and don't panic--as the World Health Organization raises global alerts to the "Knock Knock. Who's there? Holy Crap. Holy Crap Who? Holy Crap there's basically going to be a swine flu pandemic and all we have to protect us is Purell" level. (also known as level 5).

I don't want to be disrespectful, because people are seriously sick, but geez, can the world get a break?

Take On Me.

Insurance company Mutual of Omaha has filed a lawsuit against Oprah claiming that it owns the phrase "aha moment." The lawsuit follows a cease and desist request from Winfrey suggesting that Mutual of Omaha's latest ad campaign, "What's your aha moment?" uses her aha moment line. 

I don't know if either side can lay claim to this term. I thought an a-ha moment was when you somehow got sucked into a pencil-sketch cartoon and danced around to new wave.  If anyone should be involved in this legal skirmish, it's the entire nation of Norway.   

And More Etc.

While waiting for a concert to start the other night, Bri and I started listing stores with really open-ended names. I forget why we started doing this, but it was a pretty fun way to pass the time. I know I mentioned something about the most random store name I'd ever seen (Wicker -N-Things) and that probably got the list going, but I can't remember why I brought that up.

Obligatory 2-second rant about Wicker 'N' Things:
Why? Why name your store Wicker -N-Things? Would a person in the market for wicker products really be so intrigued by the "things" that they had no choice but to shop there? Perhaps. But a person not looking for wicker products would never browse around Wicker-N-Things just for the things. And "Things" is FAR too general to tag on to Wicker. Are these wicker related things or is it a store full of things with wicker in them? Or are the things literally just random things, like electronic toothbrushes and dolls? How is the store divided? One section for wicker, another section for things?
I saw this store like 5 years ago and it's still bothering me. I guess I should get over it.

But you know the stores I'm talking about. Bed Bath & Beyond, Mailboxes Etc., Linens N Things, all the "And More" and "More Than" stores. Futons And More, Beverages & More, More Than Carpet, More Than Bagels, More Than Shirts. These kind of establishments go with the More Than because it looks only slightly better than "Mostly Carpet" or "Mostly Shirts."

These are few new stores we came up with:
*Things and Other Things Etc. Unlimited Wholesale Discounters
*Edible and Inedible Stuff & More
*More & More Etc. Etc.
*Noun Etc.
*Etc., Etc., Etc., Etc., And More
*Copies & Photos & Socks and Nothing Else.
*More Than Things & Whatnot & More & Beyond & Beyond That & Then Beyond That Even More Etc, Etc, I Mean Seriously, It Just Keeps Going, Like When You're In A Dressing Room And Two Mirrors Are Facing Each Other And Your Reflection In Those Two Mirrors Just Goes On Forever And It Kind Of Trips You Out 'Cause You're Like, Whoa, There's Like A Million Of Me, Do You Know What I'm Talking About? Like Infinity Mirrors, You Know? Well That's What This Store Is Like, Only More.

There's A Sale At The Chichen Store.

I have a love/hate relationship with the American shopping mall. On one hand, I hate the mall. On the other hand, many of my childhood memories involve the mall. And on the other hand, outside of an airport or a subway, the mall is prime people-watching space. (I bought an extra hand at Williams-Sonoma. It's one of those salad hands. Great for when you want to include three points but only have two hands.)

When you grow up in a town with freezing winters and nothing to do, you spend a lot of your weekends at the mall. An image of my father walking about 50 yards behind us with all of our winter coats and hats and scarves, our shopping bags, our giant lemonade from Hot Sam's Pretzels, and my mom's purse, is forever burned on my mind. The food court, the carousel (did you ever notice that kids have to wave at their parents every time they go around on the carousel? Every time. It's pretty freakin adorable, and also, the only thing you can do on a carousel.) and hide-and-seek in the department stores (I suggest jumping in the middle of circular racks of clothes). And all of this was before cell phones obviously, so every trip to the mall included at least one page over the mall sound system. "Martin Family, your father is waiting with your coats at the information kiosk."

There's been a steady flow of news about the fate of malls because of the economy. Reuters reported today that the second largest mall owner in America just filed for bankruptcy in what would be "one of the biggest real estate failures in U.S. history." That's crazy, and part of the reason I think malls are so gross. All that wasted space and all that sprawl for 35 senior citizens to power-walk around. What do you think will eventually happen to all those malls? Housing? Schools? Greenhouses? Probably Costco. Either that or giant city-size laser tag arenas. Which, when combined with an Orange Julius, might not be so bad.

Easter.

It's too bad that after years of holiday meals and gatherings, my entire extended family has grown to overlook our collective randomness. It's nothing new, so no one really notices. I imagine the people who work as ushers at Cirque du Soleil experience something similar. "Oh, that? Yeah, I guess it's pretty weird. I don't know, I've seen this like 300 times."

No one comments on the insane amounts of food anymore, or the fact that a celebration means about seven solid hours of force-feeding. No one tries to argue with my grandma as she shoves money at us, yelling for us to take it. And then once you've accepted the money with thanks, no one's eyes grow wider with confusion when she continues to yell at you to take it. I used to think to myself, "Gram, I'm holding the money, what more can I do? Should I ingest it?" Now I know that a five-minute scream for me to "take the money!" is also part of the gift.

In general, volume is never discussed. If my throat or ears don't hurt after a holiday, I wasn't with my family. And for holidays like Christmas or Easter, when a certain character arrives, I try to make my way to the bathroom before the big announcement, because the commotion makes me nervous. "SANTA IS HERE!!!!! GO GO GO" "THE BUNNY IS IN THE BACKYARD! RUUUUUN!" Followed by a scene similar to the footage of when the Beatles first came to America.

And unfortunatley, because it happens so often, Sabrina doesn't even think to take pictures of things like my Uncle Greg walking out into the dining room with a Halloween mask on, or sitting in the living room watching golf with a Halloween mask on. This year I really would have loved a picture of my little cousin Christopher pointing to the framed photo of Billy Joel on my grandma's table.
Actual exchange:
Christopher: (pointing) Who's that?
My Uncle Steve: Billy Joel.

No further explanation.

Has It Been An Hour?

Whenever celebrities talk about the environment they have to mention light bulbs. They can't help it. It's the one instance in which the figurative light bulb above their head is the literal answer.
"How do you reduce your carbon footprint?"
"Um, well... [ding!] Light bulbs."

In a symbolic act meant to bring attention to global warming and steps we can take to reduce energy use, Earth Hour will take place this Saturday night at 8:30. Conveniently, Earth Hour is basically about light bulbs so celebrities were able to get on board.

I'm all for symbolic acts. I do symbolic random acts of kindness as often as I can. Like when I see someone carrying heavy bags, I try to make whatever I'm carrying look heavy too so that person doesn't feel like they're alone.

For Earth Hour, people of the world are asked to shut off all unnecessary lighting at 8:30 PM. 8:30 local time. Your local time. So it's not really a single hour-- more of a shifting global hour. A stadium wave of darkness, if you will. That doesn't do much for the solidarity thing, knowing that people in France are already done with their dark hour and free to walk about their homes without bumping into furniture.

While discussing Earth Hour on his show, Larry King asked, "You don't want people to turn off their car lights if they're driving down the street?"

Well, no. Thanks Larry. But maybe you could turn off one of the 3,000 light bulbs you have on behind you. And maybe you could stop being on TV.

Not everyone is so keen on the idea of having to shut off a few lights for 60 minutes. In her article for the AP, Caryn Rousseau included a quote by ice cream shop owner Bob Gerense, who said, "I'm going to get everyone I know in my neighborhood to turn on every light they possibly can to waste as much electricity as possible to underline the absurdity of this action ... by being absurd."

You'd think a man in the ice cream business might be a little more concerned with climate change.

Oh, I Enjoy It.

These things never get old:

-Asking people to say something five times fast. It's better if it's not a tongue twister at all. "Hey, say 'butter' five times fast!" It's just fun to see who will play along. Plus, I'd rather not waste my time with a person who refuses to say something five times fast. What's your problem? I know you're saying it to yourself in your head.

-The pinky-finger and thumb "call me" symbol accompanied by the requisite whispered "call me."
A few reasons why I love this one. First, who decided that a pinky and a thumb was the best representation of a phone? Phone technology has come so far that most phones look more like the palm of your hand than anything else. But I bet you a dollar that if you held your palm up to the side of your head and whispered "call me" people would just think you were trying to talk about the person sitting next to you. Palm to the side of your head means you're trying to block out a secret. So I don't know if the phone symbol will ever be able to make the switch. It's this lasting archaic institution.
Another reason is that personally, I find the universal "call me" hilarious. When your awkward stage lasts from 12 to 27, the pinky-thumb phone is a nice way to make yourself laugh after failed attempts to talk to strangers.
"Hey, can I buy you a drink"
"No."
"Oh, OK. Call me."
Close-range exaggerated whisper with a symbol. It's not for everyone.

-And Rachel Maddow on any show. What's not to love?

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Rain Dance.

I'm really horrible at basketball so anytime I'm near a hoop I'm usually shouting "Old School!" or "Let it rain!" as I hurl the ball nowhere near the rim. People get sick of that after a solid minute so I've become really amazing at watching basketball.

College basketball (namely 'Cuse hoops) ranks about #5 in my top ten favorite things list. The month of March always brings that ranking up to a buzzer-beating tie-breaker with my #1. If you don't like college basketball in general, that's no big deal. I don't understand how you couldn't, but it's not a personal flaw. But if you don't like college basketball in March, there is something seriously wrong with you.

Let's look at a list of things, shall we?
*Miracles
*Euphoria
*Cinderella Stories
*Beer

Taken independently, each item in that list is pretty great. But if you combine each item and then add a basketball and a crowd of cheering fans, that list becomes entirely freaking awesome.

The best thing about March basketball is that anything can happen. See: Syracuse's win in 6 overtimes vs. UConn in the Big East Tournament. SIX OVERTIMES! Basketball 'til 1:30 in the morning! Do you know how stressful/amazing that game was for SU fans? When you're literally exhausted just from watching a game, you know it was good.

And yesterday on SportsCenter President Obama filled out his bracket, which I have to say, was one of the more enjoyable things I've watched on television lately.

So break out your Jock Jams CD, throw on your favorite old college hoodie, and enjoy the madness!

The Doctor Will See You Now.

I'm sure I'm not the only person who hates the waiting room at the doctor's office. A stack of magazines does very little to keep your mind off where you are, or why the people around you are there--which is usually what you're wondering when you look up from that July 2008 issue of US Weekly to stare at them. Waiting rooms are uncomfortable, and awkward, and scary. I get enough of the first two in my everyday life and I could really go without the scary. Once when I had to get my wisdom teeth pulled, "O Fortuna" was playing in the waiting room at the dentist. I swear to you, that's true. I almost ran out of there.

I had to take Stella to the vet last week for a check-up and I realized that dogs have it easy. Stella had no clue where we were but she was fine with it. Unless it's the park, or your place, dogs probably have no idea where they are most of the time. I'm floored with how chill they are about that. If that was me I'd be like, "Seriously, where are you taking me?" All she knew was that there was a cat in a cage sitting on the bench next to us and she was going to try with all her might to wiggle out of my arms to get to it.

You know how they say pets resemble their owners? Well, for some reason I couldn't stop imagining that each animal in that waiting room behaved exactly like their owners do when at the doctor's. This was pretty fun and helped pass the time.

Also, I learned a great tip from Stella when she had to get weighed in by one of the assistants. She stepped onto the scale and then just before the weight fully registered, she ran off. I had to put her back on the scale four times until eventually they just put down an estimate. I'm totally doing this the next time I have to be weighed for anything. So much better than taking off your shoes, right? Just hop on, and then quickly jump off and run around the nurses station a few times. "Um, Ms. Martin, could you come back here please?"

When we finally went in to see the vet Stella still had no clue what was going on but she just kept wagging her little tail and kissing everyone. I really think she had a great time. Which leads me to believe that the real problem with the heath care system is the lack of treats.

I'd Like To Solve The Puzzle.

A sign in front of an Elks Club Lodge said "PA HETTI DINNER."

Not exactly cryptic, but it made me think.

Were the S and the G really missing? Or were the two guys in charge of buying letters on a budget? And if so, was "pa hetti" really the most obvious choice? A three-year-old might say so, but I can't imagine anyone driving past the sign and thinking, "Mmm, pa hetti dinner. Reminds me of Rome."

In an unrelated note, is anyone else offended that Vanna White still has a job?

Name Your Vegetables.

A new study suggests that kids are more likely to eat vegetables if they are given a "cool" name. LiveScience.com reports, "186 four-year-olds were given regular carrots and, on other lunch days, they were given the same vegetables renamed X-ray Vision Carrots. On the latter days, they ate nearly twice as many."

Ah-doy-ee!

Who wouldn't want an X-ray Vision Carrot?! I want one right now.

I don't care how old you are, food tastes better when you make it fun. If a side dish has a funny name, I'm on board. If a meal has a theme, I'm there. Who can forget the baby shrimp, baby corn, baby back ribs episode of Full House? And I'm 27, but I still make my pancakes into shapes. Is this weird? Probably. But go make a dinosaur out of batter and then come talk to me.

Some vegetables are blessed with awesome names but if you have to help the others out I say do it. Swiss Chard could use an ounce of cool. Rhubarb sounds like a lost Golden Girl, while Sweetcorn is too innocent, and Broccolini probably gets the crap beat out of him. Obviously the vegetable with the coolest name and the most street cred is Radicchio. Radicchio could release an album if it wanted.

If vegetables were renamed after American Gladiators, we'd all be eating our daily 5 to be sure. Just a big salad packed with Blaze, Turbo, Gemini, Zap, and Laser with a little Ranch dressing on the side.

Clearly, I have the culinary sophistication of a four-year-old.