It's always interesting to read drunk posts the next day. Not that last night's entry is so bad, but you can smell the alcohol on my breath in that post. Is unorganized even a word? Should it be disorganized? I don't know, I do SAY unorganized, but I'm not as technical about my talking. I think I saw some other errors too, but we're going to leave it be. Sometimes, in spite of the perfectionist in me, we have errors around here and if you catch them, don't think you're smarter than me or think that I don't notice or know about them. I might. Sometimes I'm just lazy and sometimes I like the way I say things better. Now that we've got that settled...
I had a great time this weekend! Ikea was fucking awesome, I'm still in Ikea shock. I want to go back but I'm almost kind of scared to go back? It was total shopping sensory overload. The Swedes do shit right, don't they? For cheap too. It is unfortunate it all has to be put together because Mr. Ashley's turn around time is even worse than mine. Waaaaaay worse. Basically, if I want Big Kid to have a loft bed when he's a teenager, I'd better buy it and start nagging now.
My mom and I had a great time. It was fun to get away together. As my parents get older, they seem to be getting quirkier. They are definitely those wacky people that think their dogs are kids. They feed them this crazy, refrigerated raw diet, let them get away with destroying the house and call each other with updates on what "the boys" are doing every 15 minutes or so. I'm not even kidding, in a regular afternoon outing with my mom, my dad will call 10 times and at least 9 of those times is an update on the dogs. INSANE.
Well now they have a GPS that they have named Matilda. It is pretty cool, I will give them that, however, it isn't part of the family. There is no need to call to ask how it is doing or to call home to give a Matilda update and ask how the boys are doing. She's an electronic, she is doing fine, and the boys are dogs, they are doing fine, probably licking their butts or peeing on your carpet. Also, she can't hear you. There's no need to respond to her, admonish her, question her or thank her.
This was particularly annoying:
Ashley: So there is this couple...
Matilda: EXIT 800 YARDS AHEAD ON YOUR RIGHT.
Ashley: ...that own this photogra...
Matilda: BEAR RIGHT.
Ashley: Is it done? Can I talk now??
Mom: Go ahead, she's done.
Ashley: So this married couple own the stu...
Matilda: TURN RIGHT IN 50 YARDS
Ashley: Damn!...anyway they...
Matilda: TURN RIGHT
Ashley: Oh my god, just forget it. Nevermind.
Mom: No, go now. Now she's done, go ahead.
Ashley: Are you sure?
Mom: Yes, I'm sure.
Ashley: They own the studio and he does the...
Matilda: RIGHT TURN UP AHEAD
Ashley: CAN'T YOU SHUT THIS FUCKING THING UP?? Seriously!! This is ridiculous!! I'm turning it down, I'm not listening to it anymore.
Mom: Don't you talk like that Ashley. We don't talk like that to Matilda. Don't touch her either.
Ashley: I should not have to compete with a...
Matilda: TURN RIGHT IN 50 YARDS
So, that got old fast. Otherwise we had fun.
The seminar was good, not great, but good. I'm glad I went. The first three segments had me super motivated and excited and inspired. Then we came to the last segment. Ugh. It's a super delicate situation and it is sad, which I don't want to expose you all to.
There is a non-profit organization of photographers who do pro bono work for parents of babies who won't be leaving the hospital. They showed a lot of the photos and a video of one of the stories and how the organization came to be and it is GREAT that these people are doing this for grieving parents. Wonderful. I wish I was the sort of person who could, but I am way too sensitive for that. However, personally I think this subject matter should have contained more of a warning or should have been more optional to view, like maybe it could have had a booth at the trade show and interested photographers could pick up info.
It made me super sad and now I can't stop thinking about it. :-(
So, now that I've made you all sad, what's left to talk about? It makes for an awkward segue, huh?
Tomorrow I have a photo shoot at the ungodly hour of 9:30am with kids that I know are brats and one of them isn't that cute. The Jews are taking MLK day off (they sure do take the full gamut of holidays, don't they?), so Big Kid doesn't have school and he wants to go to the library. I guess he is not aware of the fact that I am a wanted woman at the library and there is a chance I will be arrested upon entry. We have a battle that has been going on for years.
When I was pregnant with Big Kid, I had borrowed a book. My mom returned it for me while I was in the hospital. A month or so later I go to check out a book and they said I owed them money because the book had been damaged. I told them I knew for a fact that the book was not damaged, I had really liked the book and remember exactly (it was a breastfeeding book called "So that's what those are for" or something like that, very helpful and funny) and I know my mom did not damage the book. They insisted that their notes said it looked wet. I asked to see the book and they said they no longer had the book. I told them I did not damage the book and therefore would not be paying for the book and they told me I would not be checking out more books until I did. Carmen told me that, I still remember that ho's name.
So I boycotted them for years. They lost a ton of revenue from the late fees they lost over that period of time. Finally, when I was pregnant with little kid I decided to forgive them and DONATE the cost of the book to their fine establishment. With the word DONATION on the memo line. But when I got there they said that they had no record of me and maybe my account had been deleted for some reason. I figured maybe they had boycotted me just like I had boycotted them but I didn't say anything, and let her sign me up again and get me a new card.
Turns out there was some confusion with my last name (I did the maiden name as middle name thing, confuses everyone) and that record WAS still there and one day when I went in without my card, they looked up my name and saw both records and that money was owed for damaged books on one account. I explained myself and I know she thought I was up to something sneaky but she dropped it and I'm glad she did because no way was I paying for it after all this time, when I had never damaged it in the first place.
So although they were suspicious of me, we were pretty much on good terms again, with me increasing their revenues and them tolerating Big Kid's loud public tantrum phase and calling/emailing late fee notices often.
and then came little kid.
Wouldn't you know, little kid decides to go and rip up one of their books and Big Kid "loses" one right around the same time. I say "loses" because conveniently enough, it was the book he checked out every time he went, a lift the flap Little Einstein book, and the last time he got it one of the flaps had been ripped, which totally infuriated him. Then he "lost" it, but found it several months later.
So I had to reply to one of their threatening emails and admit that one book had been damaged and the other was missing and they replied that I owed them $20. I know I owe it to them, but it definitely makes me in no hurry to get to the library. I can BUY a book for $20. I'm sick of them and their late fees anyway. Screw them. We're not going to the library tomorrow.
I really had no intention of sharing my history with the library with you all tonight, but it does feel good to get it out. I am not a bad person. Really, I'm not.
Edited to add: I forgot to tell you all that I had a fucking gum chewer behind me the entire seminar. Slurping and sucking and smacking and making loud, squirty, squishy noises.
After an hour of it, I seriously thought about turning around and punching him in the face. Total sneak attack, hopefully knock his teeth out so he can never chew gum again.
My second idea was to turn around and hold my hand out like your mom would, kind of make the "give it to me" motion with my hand.
In a real moment of desperation, I thought about just asking him nicely to spit it out.
I settled for turning around twice to give him dirty looks, but I don't think he cared. It definitely didn't slow down his disgusting chomping.
Don't make me hear your mouth noises, people. Come on. If one person reads this and spits out their gum before a meeting, I've done my duty for the day. Thank you for your cooperation.