friday story time vol. 3: the karate kid

my boss' office and my office face one another.  for whatever reason, he has recently decided to sport a karate kid-style headband made out of the texas flag late in the afternoon. 

yesterday afternoon, he needed to clean up his always-messy desk, so he asked if i minded if he plugged in his ipod and turned on some music while he did some necessary housekeeping; he didn't want to close his door because our office's a/c has been finicky.  (yes, you read that right, i said "A/C."  it's the middle of october and 90 freakin' degrees outside.  God bless texas.)  anyways, if the texas flag karate kid headband wasn't enough, he's blaring the pussycat dolls "don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me" just when our 50-something year old admin assistant walks in.  the shocking part was that she seemed un-phased by the whole scene.  next up on the boss' playlist was "all the single ladies"...

friday story time, vol. 2: not so classy first impressions

i pride myself on the fact that i am a pretty good people person and fairly adept at feeling out a crowd and behaving accordingly; in short, i can strike up and maintain a conversation with just about anyone.  this was a skill i honed at a young age when my mom was a young, working, single mother and would take me to after-hours business dinners and events.  (she refused to leave me with a babysitter.)  i learned when it was appropriate to talk and, most importantly, not to talk.  fast forward to yesterday evening - yesterday evening, i apparantly failed at my once artful craft.  here's the way it went down...

who/what: a local political candidate (who has the strong backing and support of my association) hosting a mix & mingle political reception for "young professionals"
where: trendy mexican food restaurant in the city
when: too recent for me to be over yesterday

let me preface by saying my work day started out really, really early.  i had a 7:00 a.m. business breakfast at the junior league, sped back to the office to prepare for two back to back presentations, got ready for a 4 o'clock board of directors meeting, then headed out to attend political fundraisers and reception events.  knowing that i would have such a busy day and be meeting with many electeds and members, i wore my amazing classy new ann taylor dress and a pair of cute, albeit uncomfortable, pumps.

by the time the board meeting ended, i was spent.  i had been running around all day interacting with all kinds of people, and i was starting to feel a little off my game.  i went to my desk to have a brief moment of quiet and quickly respond to a few emails before leaving for the receptions. 

when i arrived, exhaustion begins to set in.  the hostess points me up the stairs into the private banquet room where the reception was being held.  i begin walking up the extremely uneven terra cotta tiled steps holding onto my giant handbag and the rail handle all the way.  when i enter the room, there were already many others and i notice some familiar faces.  good, i think, sometimes these events can get a little awkward.  i seek out some of my government affairs counterparts in related industries.  we all make small talk, and some people branch off into smaller groups.  i tell one of my counterparts, andy, how tired i am and how i'm struggling to maintain a level of interesting conversation.  (i know him well, so it's okay to say this.)  andy laughs and says he understands.  i figured i didn't want to stick around too much longer, so i decided to seek out the candidate to say hello, ask him how the campaign was going, and if there was anything my company could do for him.  let me remind you, this is an event the candidate was hosting for "young professionals;" he appears to be in his late 60s/early 70s but is a very sharp, intelligent man and recognizes the need to garner young voter support.  i found him wrapping up a conversation with someone else.  perfect timing!  we shake hands and re-introduce ourselves.  we talk about some of the main issues he's focusing on and looking to tackly if elected.  i agree and note that he's doing great.  there is a slight moment of awkward silence and we both look around the room.  i notice that the room is fairly full now and the people filling the room are by no means "young."  i mean they're not old, but they're not young guns; they've been around the block a time or two, alright? 

the silence carried on for a few seconds too long, so i said blurted: wow, not too many spring chickens here this evening, eh?  followed by a nudge and me attempting to wink.  (seriously, did i just do that?!  meredith, get it together!)

to which he responded: um, i'm sorry, what? 

me: oh, um, i just mean this is a reception hosted by you for YOUNG professionals, right?  like spring chickens?  i just didn't notice many YOUNG people here.  i mean i'm young, and i'm a professional, and i'm here... and you're... errrrrr... a professional, too... (my face turns red.)

him: oh.  well, i do have a lot of supporters and i'm really proud of that...

me: oh, i know!  i'm sorry, i just meant this is a young professional event, and everyone's... well, everyone here supports you, i mean.  yay!  i think it's so great, you're going to be great, this venue is great! 

him: yeah... thanks... i better go.  i think some "young" people just arrived... (he walks off)

crap.  really, meredith?  you had to say that?  you had to act like a total idiot.  it was obviously time for me, my new dress, and giant handbag to leave.

feeling pretty crappy about the whole thing, i figured it best that i quietly slip out of the reception.  no need to make a fool of myself in front of anyone else. 

remember the uneven steps i told you about?  well, here's where they come in.  the staircase is kind of a focal point; it overlooks the entire main restaurant so everyone can see the person walking up or down the stairs.  proud of my very "young professional-esque" outfit, i strut myself down the stairs like i was walking down a freaking catwalk.  let me tell you, i worked it.  worked it until i got about four steps from the bottom, and that's when i came crashing down.  everyone turned and stared at me with wide eyes and dropped jaws.  i jumped up, straightened out my dress, and ran limped out the door.  yesterday evening showed me that i'm clearly not as suave as i think i am.

friday story time, vol. 1: the cockroach

there is something you should know about me: i HATE cockroaches.  i hate everything about them.  their color, their creepily long attennae, their disgusting legs, the fact that many of them can fly, and the fact that they can pretty much survive through just about anything confirms that they are the spawn of satan.  they are evil, disgusting, deplorable creatures to be feared.  you heard me, FEARED.  i don't know when, how, or why my fear of these demons got so out of control.  fear typically comes about as the result of our experiences or may often be a learned behavior.  growing up, my mom was never particularly afraid of bugs.  i mean, she didn't like them, but she knew how to use a can of raid.  perhaps it's been the culmination of my experiences with cockroaches that solidified my terror.  one particular and very recent experience comes to mind and i feel compelled to share.


remember in my october 1st post how i mentioned i'm often driving around a lot to meetings, events, etc.  well, this particular day i attended an event we were hosting about an hour outside of houston.  (you will see later why this tidbit of information about the time spent in my car is important.)  so i make it to the event, meet with the area's united states house of representatives' congressman and other local stakeholders, and stay for part of the luncheon.  i have another meeting downtown i have to make, so i quietly excuse myself.  i get on interstate-45 and begin the 32 mile drive into downtown houston.  in my passenger seat, i have my giant handbag large enough to carry the amount of rice needed to feed a small country for a week, a water bottle, and my laptop case.  (i keep my car clean* and i don't leave crap in it, albeit the two tennis rackets in the trunk.)  so i'm driving along the five-lane highway of i-45 listening to pete yorn's "crystal villages" and dodging houston traffic when all of a sudden i see a dark object slide (or crawl) across my passenger side floorboard.  my immediate reaction: "oh sh*t!  that had to have been a cockroach!"  my heart starts racing and my palms become clammy.  i turn pete yorn down (as if turning down the music will make it better), take a deep breath, briefly close my eyes (i am still driving, you know), and think through my options.  "okay, meredith, you didn't actually see what it was on the floorboard.  it could have been a penny.  pennies are brown, right?  hmm, no it was definitely bigger than a penny..."  bravely, i peer down over my passenger side floorboard... NOTHING!  i see nothing!  success!  "whew," i think, "that could have been really bad."  just when my heart beat starts to return to normal and i ease back into my driver's seat, i see it dart across the floorboard!!!  it IS a cockroach!  a giant, disgusting, creepy crawly spawn of satan!!!  i swerve into the lane to my right, barely missing an oncoming ford F-350 diesel truck.**  the guy behind me flips me off and i see him mouth a word that rhymes with "ditch."  i don't care.  i have a creature in my car from the paleozoic era and i have no idea how it got there!!  my fight or flight response kicks in: i am definitely a flight kind of person.  at this point i am halfway standing up in my driver's seat, scared to touch anything in my car.  i would have opened my car door and duck and rolled out onto the freeway if i could have ensured that i would have lived.  i saw an approaching exit, and quickly veer over three lanes of traffic.  at this point, i look around at my surroundings and realize i am in the absolute worst part of town i could have possibly been in.  i don't care.  i have to get to a gas station or something!  i have to get out of this car.  i fly into what i think is a gas station.  it has one gas pump, no real sign identifying it as a legitimate fuel station, and a taco truck.  i'm jumping out of the car as i'm putting it in park.  i'm shaking and in a cold sweat.  i look around me and realize i am surrounded by non-english speaking construction and maintenance workers eating tacos.  let's just say i stuck out like a sore thumb in my three-inch heels, black pin-striped business suit, and pearl necklace.  i call my mom because she always seems to know what to do.


me: "mom!  you're not going to believe what just happened to me!"


mom: (pause) "what?"


me: "well, i'm driving along 45 trying to make it to this meeting i have downtown when i see a massive cockroach crawl across my floorboard!  i had to get out of my car.  i almost died, but i'm at a gas station or something now.  and there's a taco truck.  the cockroach is still in my car, i'm standing outside, and about a dozen mexican men are staring at me."


mom: "meredith, get in your car now.  do you hear me?  you're going to get raped.  drive somewhere safer."


me: "MOM!!!!  i don't think you heard me: THERE.IS.A.COCKROACH.IN.MY.CAR!!!!!!  i am not going anywhere!!!!  can you come get me?"


mom: "no, i cannot come get you!  go somewhere safer!  the cockroach is not going to bother you, but those men might."


me: "no.  they are the least of my worries.  baby satan is in my car!  fine, i'll figure it out.  if i don't call back in 10 minutes, call the police."


i stomp inside to the little gas station and shout to the clerk: "there is a cucharacha in my carro!!  i need bug spray!!"  (as you can see, my spanish isn't any good.  i took french for six years.)  the poor clerk didn't understand me,  (i wonder why?) so i start running down the only two aisles in the tiny station.  aqua net hairpray!  that oughta do the trick!  i pay five bucks for the 25 cent hairspray and run back out to my car.  taking a deep breath, i fling open all my doors, and holding the aqua net like a .45 pistol, i shout, "alright!  where are you, you little satan creature?!?!"  nothing.  there's nothing there.  great.  i'm just going to have to sit and wade this thing out.  i sit on the curb and start to cry.  (yes, i'm feeling sorry for myself.)  i'm in a nice suit, a great pair of heels, my hair actually looked semi-decent that morning, and i'm sitting there crying and sweating in the 90 degree sweltering heat and humidity.  all of a sudden, i see it!  it crawls right out, onto the pavement, and flies off!!!!!  it was gone!!!  wasting no time, i slam all my doors shut, and get back into my car... 


victory washed over me, and it felt good.  i had slayed the dragon that day.  i had an encounter with the devil, and i won.  good always prevails over evil.

xo
-m
 *you'll find i keep most things clean.  germs, messes, and disorder give me panic attacks.
**yes, it's true - everything is bigger in texas.  that goes for trucks, too.  especially trucks.