Lenten Encounters

What's the deal with all advertisers lying during lent?

They all have commercials advertising their "fish" products, and I'm pretty sure their pants are on fire. Majorly.

Take Wendy's, for example. That hot and spicy redhead is lying through her teeth. Her fish sandwich commercial begins, "It's that time of year again. Time for people to rush to Wendy's for their favorite fish sandwich!"

Really?

Who thinks, "Wow. It's February! I have to hurry! I get to go to Wendy's and eat fish!"?

I'll tell you who thinks that: nobody. Nobody thinks that.

Also, nobody thinks that "the best fish can be found at Arby's." NOBODY.

I know you're supposed to be good all year long, but I find lying to make a Lenten profit especially disturbing.

Airplane Encounters

I had to leave town for a weekend conference recently. The last time I traveled to said conference I got several good blog topics out of my journey. (Like this one and this one.)

Here are some things I thought of during my trek this time:

- They should limit the kinds of odiferous foods you can bring onto airplanes. Especially if it's a small airplane. The lady next to me on one of my flights was enjoying a wonderful sandwich from Subway but it was loaded with jalapeno peppers. I mean, really loaded. Not cool. Literally. My nostrils were burning.

- This whole thing where you have to pay money to check a bag has got to go. End of story.

- Also, the airlines have these new signs slash posters where they say "enjoy a drink on us!" and then they list all the drinks you can have while on your flight. How generous! You mean I can pay you almost $500 for a ticket, $50 to check my bag, and surrender my dignity in one of those creepy scanner things and you'll give me half a Coke?? I can't get over your giving spirit!
I'm not old. Or at least not THAT old, but I can remember the days when if you bought a ticket you could check TWO bags FREE, and you got a meal on every flight. Like a real meal. Served with actual metal utensils. CRAZY.

- I think all airport toilets should have those nifty automatic seat covers like they have in Chicago. It should be a standard requirement. I will add that to my list of goals for a future political campaign. (By the way, it just occurred to me that my award winning, undefeated campaign slogan will no longer work. "Vote for the Learned one," took me to the highest reaches of high school government. With my new last name, it no longer packs a punch. Heavy sigh. Oh well, Ghata get used to it.)

- Lastly, I wonder what they do with all the liquids and gels they confiscate from passengers at security. If it's more than 3 oz., they will take it from you. They must have piles of shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste and hair gel somewhere. I hope it's being put to good use. When I was little I used to think there were little elves who sorted the luggage and put in on the right plane and then back on the right conveyer belt. Maybe the elves get to use the products... One can only hope.

Unique Encounters

Sometimes it's good to feel unique. Sometimes it's not.

Here's a few places/times it's nice to feel unique/different/special:
- When you're an artist at an art show. Your works stands out as something different, people notice you and you make more money.
- When you have a million siblings and there's something that you do that no one else does. You don't have to share, which is always fun whether you want to admit it or not.
- When you're applying for college scholarships or trying to get into med school or law school or something. You have to stand out from the crowd.
- When you're trying to get a job. Same song, second verse.
- If you're Waldo and the whole point of your existence is your ability to be found in large crowds of people, animals or barbarians.

Here's some places/times you DON'T want to feel unique/different/special:
- High school. I don't care what people say. No one wants to truly stick out in high school. The trend is to blend.
- At the doctor's office. The words "I've never seen anything like this," are not comforting in the least.
- Ditto for the dentist.
- The witness protection program. Duh.
- And you certainly don't want to feel unique at the Apple store when you're taking in your computer for repair. "Take a look at this!" is not something you want to hear one Genius yell to another.

Heavy sigh...

Restroom Encounters

Question: Why are department store bathrooms always located in a seemingly abandoned part of the building?

Seriously.

It seems like every bathroom is at the end of some scary deserted hallway, filled with half-empty cardboard boxes and clothing racks with nothing but empty hangers on them. The stores could be filled with people, but there's never anyone in the hallway leading to the bathroom. Even though I'm an adult, I feel like I could get kidnapped every time I embark on this frightening, but clearly necessary, adventure.

It's creepy. And I don't understand it.

Injustice Encounters

I'm not a feminist. I'm not a sexist. I'm not (too) crazy.

BUT.

Having a wedding/getting married opened my eyes to a world of gender-based discrimination and injustice. Ok, maybe those words are harsh, but hear me out. Take a look at an abbreviated version of our boy and girl to-do lists (all because of the wedding):

Boy:
- Get fitted for tux.
- Recruit other boys to get fitted for tuxes
- Help parents plan rehearsal dinner
- Show up
- Assure girl that the wedding will happen not matter who decides to be late
- Wear fitted tux
- Take pictures
- Marry girl you love
- Go on honeymoon
- Carry gifts into new house
- Change address on driver's license
- Change address with the Post Office
- Go to work
- Come home

Girl:
- EVERYTHING ELSE
No, really. Everything else. Watch:
- Plan the WHOLE wedding and all the details that are too long to list
- Assemble and send invitations
- Pick wedding dress
- Endure three fittings of said dress
- Pick bridesmaids dresses
- Find shoes, earrings and all other accessories
- Get hair and make-up done
- Freak out just a little
- Manage the personalities of everyone in attendance. particularly family
- Wear thrice-fitted dress
- Take pictures
- Marry the man you love
- Go on honeymoon
- Retrieve certified copy of marriage license
- Open and record all gifts
- Wash and find a place for aforementioned gifts in new house
- Return 4 of 5 crock-pots and 6 of 7 coffee percolators.
- WRITE THANK YOU NOTES
- Decorate interior of house
- Change name and address on driver's license
- Change name and address on social security card (this involves traveling to some kind of alternate universe where time moves at a glacial pace and nobody smiles.)
- Change name on EVERYTHING ELSE (credit card, health insurance, bank accounts, dr's office, dentist, FACEBOOK, twitter)
- Go to work
- Come home
- Be thankful for everything (including the fact that you in no way involved your last name in your blog title)

Tell me how that's fair. You can't. Because it's not.

The things we do for love. (heavy sigh)

p.s. I love being married. Really. "I do." I mean, "I have" (Orthodox pun intended).

Coffee Encounters

Panera is usually a happy place. Even if it's super early in the morning, people have coffee, bagels and classical music to start their day out right. And later in the day they serve their crazy good mac and cheese. Who can't be happy when there's crazy good mac and cheese in the room?

Anyways, I go to Panera every Thursday morning to pick up bagels for a weekly meeting at the church. The people in the bakery know my order before I get to the counter. (It makes me feel like I live in a small town - even though Panera is a huge chain and OKC isn't too tiny either.) They assemble my bagel packs and I go on my merry little way.

But this morning tragedy struck Panera. Their coffee machine BROKE.

Did you hear me?

The COFFEE MACHINE BROKE.

They had signs posted all over, but people still approached the counter asking for coffee. Hoping and praying it couldn't be true. They came for coffee. They need coffee. THERE WAS NO COFFEE.

I don't drink coffee so I was unaffected by this caffeine famine, but man were those other people upset. Their facial expressions ranged from devastation to anger, sorrow to rage, and a few who just stood stunned, unable to process the news they just heard.

The moral of the story?

Drink more tea.

Courthouse Encounters

Suppose you had to go to the county courthouse the other day to apply for a marriage license.

Suppose you had never been there and you had kind of an adventure within those walls.

Suppose your adventure went something like this:

You approach a building that looks all nice and friendly from the outside, but the people going through the doors with you don't look so inclined to be nice or friendly.

You have to go through security and get your bag x-rayed and they say you can't bring any knives in, but you make it through with TWO swiss army keychains in your purse. Two. When your cousin went there they stole her deadly weapons - also known as bobby pins. But not your knives.

Again, the inside of the first floor looks all nice and clean and people smile at you. Then you get in the elevator and go to the 2nd floor, where you think the office for marriage licenses is, and you meet a delightful lady who tells you you have to go to the 9th floor. You say thank you and she wishes you a good day and you saunter out feeling pretty darn good about this place you had obviously misjudged.

But then, THEN you get on the elevator and ride to the 9th floor. And when the doors open, it's clear you have been transported to an alternate universe. You know the office where Tom Hanks works in Joe vs. the Volcano? It's like that. But filled with even creepier people. People who stare at you. Some people in handcuffs. People who make you feel tiny and terrified. And they are all in this big line that fills the whole hall. And you see this tiny sign at the end of the line that says "Marriage Licenses." So you try to sneak through the crowd and work your way toward the door and the light at the end of the tunnel - no really, the marriage license room is bright and the hallway is long, it's actually a light at the end of the tunnel.

Anyway, you make it inside. There's no line in this room. There's a fairly friendly lady behind the counter who takes your information and gives you a worksheet to fill out. She makes a little small talk as you sign a paper and submit your paperwork. Then she looks at you and says "It's time for the oath." You laugh because she has to be kidding, right? Then she stares at you, totally unamused, and tells you to raise you right hand. You do it, because she will kill you if you don't, and you proceed to promise all the information you have provided is true. You also promise that you aren't related to your husband-to-be. So help you GOD.

Then you get to leave. But you can't breathe easily quite yet. Why not? Well, because you have to go back sometime in the next two weeks and pick up the actual license.

Wonder what you will see then.