Letters From Prison

Let's just get right to it. Shall we?

"Hey, what's up? (still not in prison, you?) My b-day is approaching very fast. I was hoping I'd be home before then, but I guess I'm not gonna make it. Oh well, I'm gonna do everything in my power to never spend another b-day behind bars! (yeah, it's a shame that the police are out to get you or you may have a shot at that).

WOW that's a really good proffession to choose (I told her i wanted to be a professor...no i did not spell it with two f's. I'm not sure where she got that from.) I can say I have a proffessor in the family now. (um...not really now, because you see I'm not actually a professor yet). haha make sure you are a hip one though. (when did the word "hip" make a comeback? am I just really out of it?) haha you'll be so having affairs with your freshman. (wait? what?) haha sike (do people still say sike?) that might be nice for you when your 50 though if your not married. (OMG...I am simultaneously offended and disgusted). So will you be Dr. Sto when you get your Ph.D.? (yes, but that does not mean that you can bring your friends who have OD-ed/been shot over to my apartment and expect me to fix them up. There's different types of doctors.) Where would you want to teach at? (wherever there's a job...and you shouldn't end a sentence with a preposition.) A college? (that's typically where professor work) Which one, in what state?

I like your business card it's very businessy. (I guess being businessy is good considering it's a BUSINESS card.) I'd like to look at your scrapbook from ND sometime maybe I can come visit you in NC like next year around my b-day. (no, that's ok...I can bring the scrapbook to you. Really, it's not a problem...plus you probably still won't be able to leave the state.) When I go home we'll still keep in touch thru e-mail and the phone. (and you'll have to check out my really awesome blog...haha)

Your classes arn't (yes, there's no e) that long, I though they'd maybe be like a all day process (see there's this concept called homework that I'm not sure you're fully grasping). the also seem very complex (well, duh), do you ever get bored in class (yes) or are you a very good and attentive student (no)? My stupid radio broke so now i'm gonna have to get a new one and they cost $25 but are worth like $5 (i'm not sending you money if that's what you're going with this.) we were just one lock-down for over a week. (did someone find a shank? shank shank shank shank) I was going crazy. well i'm gonna go. Miss you. (Don't miss you)"

Well, it sounds like she's going to be getting out soon and I'm not sure whether that's good or bad for all of you. Bad because there's no more letters from prison, but good because there will actually be real life accounts. The last time I actually saw her in person she threw all her Christmas presents in the snow in my grandmother's front yard.

Things That Annoy Me (Yes, two in a row)

I went to the post office to get a postcard stamp. As the postal worker was sticking the stamp on the postcard, she began to read it, and then commented on what I had written. Isn't that like illegal or something?

Things That Annoy Me

I haven't really done a "Things that Annoy Me" blog lately (nor a "Psychotic Thought of the Day" blog on that note), but yesterday I had something that definitely was annoyance worthy. I was on my way to Zumba (yes, I've drunk the Zumba kool-aid) and decided to stop off at the community compost bin down the block from me to dump off my compostables. After dumping my stuff, I realized I had composty juices on my hand. As I was driving, I realized I had hand sanitizer in the middle console. I got it out. Flicked open the top and hand sanitizer exploded all over my face (including in my eye)...keep in mind that I am still driving. I stop at a red light and read the warning (with the eye that is not stinging like a mo fo). "In the event of contact with the eyes, flush immediately with water and seek medical advice." Shit! So (while still driving...probably not the smartest move), I flush my eye with water from the water bottle that I was taking to Zumba, do not seek medical attention, and still making to Zumba on time. I guess everything's ok since I woke up this morning and wasn't blind.

Reunion Ridiculousness

I can't sleep because Jimmy Clausen (who according to Danielle looks like a fat Nick Carter...though I would argue Nick Carter is pretty fat) just saved Charlie Weis's fat ass one more time in the closing seconds of the game and my adrenaline is still chugging away. (sidenote: I originally just said Weis's ass and went back and added the word "fat" during editing which I think is a nice change.) I thought rather than waste this time..oh...i don't know...reading a book or something, that I'd blog. Because we all know that the very best blogs can be written at 12:15 AM.

Today I opened my mailbox and found....::drumroll::...an invitation to my 10 year high school reunion. (Oh the humanity!) I thought I'd just comment on the ridiculousness of several part of it. Remember these are only my very favorite excerpts.

1) It was sealed with a gold sticker with hearts on it (like you would use to seal wedding invitations). Really? You couldn't find anything better than this?

2) "$40 at the door. (Price includes heavy horderves, 2 drink tickets & entertainment provided by EVERY DAY HEROES" ---holy crap, $40 bucks. It better be heavy hors d'oeuvres. It's at the Appalachian Brewing Company, so it's not even like it's at a hotel and we're paying a crapload for the room. And "horderves" really looked correct to you? Didn't notice anything bizarre about that spelling? That really speaks volumes about Middletown's Education system, doesn't it?

3) "Please no hats or sneakers." --does this really need to be said? Man, I come from one classy hometown.

4) In giant letters at the bottom "We're Going To Party Like It's 1999." --Thank you Prince, for creating that song so that we could cling to it like a remora to a shark. This song will follow me around FOREVER and to think, I actually used to like that song.

Anyway, I'm still debating whether to go or not. Like there's no one I really want to see that I don't already talk to, but I have been doing pretty awesome since high school, so I kinda want to go rub that in people's faces. Is that wrong?

Do you Know How to Peel a Banana?

Today in between classes someone was eating a banana and someone else informed them that they were peeling it wrong. He referred us to this YouTube clip:


I have multiple favorite parts of this: a) when he says it "blew his mind", b) when he tries to bite the banana open and c) the fact that he has monkey pants on.

Henna Really Isn't As Cool As I Thought

Today at B school was the "International Food Fest." Each "team" (each academic team has 5-6 students in it and you basically do a bunch of stuff together with them) had to prepare a dish from a foreign country. There's a guy names Xavier on my team who is from Belgium originally so we made Carbonade a la Flamande (aka A Flemish Beef Stew). It was basically beef, carrots, onions, bread, dijon mustard and a crap load of dark beer. (That's an official culinary term: "crap load" which is a little smaller than an "ass load") There was a ton of food. Pad Thai, quiches, chicken curry, spanikopita, and a bunch of other stuff that I don't even know the name of. My stomach just took a trip around the world. Some people also had different activities from around the world. A couple of students from India were doing Henna tattooing. I always wanted to get Henna, and when I was walking by there was no line so I sat down. This is my Henna:

Henna is not as cool as I thought it was for three main reasons. 1) It's a lot oranger than I thought it's be. 2) I thought that like they painted it on and you waited like 15 minutes or something and washed it off. No...you have to wait like an hour until it gets dry and just cracks and falls off. Do you know how hard it is not to bump intricate painting on your right arm? Also, do you know how hard it is to take a clear picture of your right arm when you're right handed? 3) It's supposed to stay on for like a week or something, but I just took a shower and it already faded significantly, so we'll see. So, I'm not sure if I'd do it again or not. It didn't totally suck. It just wasn't all that I thought it'd be.

A Letters from Prison Excerpt

I received another letter from the big house (no not Michigan)...though on that note isn't it kinda fitting that "big house" is the name of both Michigan's stadium and prison...hmmm...I digress. Anyway, the whole letter wasn't that interesting, but a few lines really pretty much summed up her whole issue.

"I wish I didn't have to work hard and everything could just be handed to me for the rest of my life but I know that's not the case and I'm gonna have to work extra hard when I came home to do otherwise. I can't be lazy any more I won't get anyway in life!!"

Wow....wow... (yes, she actually did say "anyway in life" not "anywhere in life") Do we think she actually understands the hard work thing? I mean its easy to say when you're sitting in a jail cell with nothing to do but read all day, but then when you actually have to work, it's a whole different ball game.

Like a Band Aid...Right Off!

There are certain things in life that should be done in one quick, painful motion: removing a band aid, giving bad news, taking duct tape off of a hostage's mouth (not that I have any formal training on this...just what I've seen on TV), and body waxing.

After moving one of the most difficult things I've had to do is find a new esthetician to get my eyebrows waxed. I've had some bad experiences. No real eyebrow butchery. Just not really done up to my expectations (if it takes less than 5 minutes...you didn't do a good job). So Friday, I crossed my fingers and went to get my eyebrows waxed. She did a decent job except instead of just forcefully ripping off the strips of wax, she like slowly (and agonizingly) peeled it off. Now I have this dilemma. Do I try someone new and risk having horrible eyebrows for a week or so? Or do I go back and grit my teeth for a few minutes of pain?

And the Maintenance Guy Went Crazy

I had this huge bush out by my front door that was approximately 12 feet in diameter (with a standard deviation of about a foot and a half...sorry quant is seeping into my everyday life . Never read Super Crunchers). It was a big f***ing bush. It hung over the flower bed onto my patio. I came home two days ago and found this.

Apparently the apartment maintenance guy went completely ape shit on it.

The Care Package

I found one other thing that differs between undergrad and grad school. Care packages. When I was at ND, my mom sent great care packages. They had things like food and hot chocolate and stuffed animals and stickers and other fun things in it. I got a huge box on my doorstep with my mom's handwriting on the front. I was super psyched. I opened it up and inside was a suit, a photo album and coupons...no note, no card, no explanation what so ever. She's so weird.

It's Different

So I decided after a week and a half of classes that I would blog about some of the differences between my undergrad and B-school experiences. Now granted these are only my very narrow assessments from four years at Notre Dame and a week and a half at Wake Forest, but I'm pretty sure they're relatively accurate and will carry over to others.

1) Dress code: Wake has a business casual dress code for all its MBA students. Which means I have to like iron stuff and do laundry on a regular basis. Gone are the days of wearing pajamas, sweats or wind pants to class (my freshman year roommate, Maryn wouldn't know what to do with herself).

2) Beer: There is probably still as much beer around as there was when I was in undergrad it's just better quality. No more Natty Lite. Yuengling, Coors, Sam Adams seem to be staples.

3) Stealing: Stealing seems to be more frowned upon. Back at ND we were really into stealing things (from campus of course...sticking it to the man...we paid for it right). At one time or another we stole an entire dining hall set including tray, sugar dispenser and salt and pepper shakers. My parents also still have a section 13 sign from the JACC. (It's in their basement...check it out if you're ever over). We also found it humorous when someone stole the giant inflatable gorilla from Farley and the picture of Edward J. ("Jomama") Debartolo from Debartolo hall. In grad school...I haven't really tested this out...but I'm thinking that if I stole the giant Deacon from the student lounge that I'd kinda be in trouble.

4) The ratio: I'm not sure what the ratio exactly was at ND, but I'm thinking it was about 50/50. My first year MBA class has 68 students in it and 12 of them are girls...not that I'm complaining. (I get to talk about football a lot).

5) The whole married/kids thing. I have friends that are married and have kids, but it's still weird to me when someone has to leave the team meeting because they have to take their kid to the dentist...I'm just not used to the family thing in a school setting.

6) Going to class. You have to go to class. If you miss, not only do you have to e-mail the professor, but you have to e-mail the MBA relations person...weird. I can't tell you the number of times I didn't go to Genetics at ND.

7) Calling professors by their first name. It's just awkward calling them Jon or Sherry or whatever.

Well, I guess that's all for now. I think I had something else to write, but it's gone now...maybe later.

Letters from Prison: Bizness

Let's just get right into it.

"So I was wondering what are you going to do with your master's degree in bizness after you get it? (well, I'm going to go into brand management for a CPG company, but there isn't enough stationary in the world for me to explain how that relates to "bizness" for you, so let's just say I want to help companies put things in stores.) What is your goal? (um...to make money? and get really good free products.) Do you want to own and run your own bizness? (hell no!) If so, what? (a giant candy store...like FAO Schwartz, but with candy) Can I work there if you do? (um...let me think about this for a second...no) It will be hard for me to get a good job now with my record!! :-( (life's a bitch...ain't it?) I'll most likely stuck in fast food joints inless (yes, it says inless) someone hooks me up (no one in their right mind would hook you up) or I own my own bizness (oh God...here we go) which that is the long term goal for me! (you do know that being a drug dealer doesn't count as "owning your own bizness").

No my mom didn't get out. (in the last letter she had said her mom was supposed to get out...in case you missed this part of the story her mom is in the same jail that she's in.) Shes still here. she has to go back to court again. who knows where my mom will work when she does get out (2nd and walnut?) No I don't think I'm gonna go upstate (where exactly is upstate in Pennsylvania?) I'm getting a paid lawyer now (I don't even want to know who is paying for this, but smart money is on my aunt) so I don't have to cause they are really trying to sock it to me (oh sure...the legal system is just out to get you...blah blah blah) and being really unfair (because they actually put you in jail? how terrible!) I won't feel safe inless I have a paid lawyer (and I won't feel safe inless you're in jail). Well I guess Im gonna go. Talk 2 you again soon. (we can hope)"

How to Sell Gum At School?

I can't believe I forgot to post this. I was cleaning out my e-mail and came across this little nugget that Kate had sent me (a long long time ago) and since today was my first day of class I thought it would be apropos to post. Did you know that you can find out how to do ANYTHING on wikihow? It's great. If you're bored at work, I highly suggest checking it out. Some of them even have ridiculous videos to go with them. But this is one of my favorites "How to Sell Gum At School." My comments in parenthesis as usual.

"Steps
To get started, purchase several packs of any type of gum that many people seem to like. (I like Big Red and also Teaberry...but it's really hard to find Teaberry and not many people like it. My dad chews 5 and thinks he's really cool because of it.)
Choose the brand you are going to sell and have 3 different flavors of that brand. (I'm not really sure why you can only have one brand, but whatever)
Go around keeping a low profile asking people if they want any gum. The best time is at lunch because that's when most people have their money out. (hey..uh..you wanna buy some gum? no, that's not sketchy at all...and by "gum" I mean weed.)
Charge them 20 cents a piece. So it would be 5 pieces for a dollar which they will usually buy instead of just 1 piece. (20 cents a piece...what a rip off! School kids are so stupid)
That's basically it but be sure to read the warnings and tips! (yes, gotta love warnings and tips)
Also be confident... (I will be confident in my gum selling abilities).

Tips (There are hella lot of tips)
After you get caught the first time (apparently you're not a very good gum seller if you get caught), you can still continue selling but exercise more caution. Keep everything in a secret second locker. (how exactly does one get a 'secret second locker.'...is that somewhere on wikihow?) Go around asking people for gum to buy. If they say yes, disappear and go without them to get out whatever they wanted to buy. Bring it to them. Do not let them see you there or they could use that information to snitch or blackmail you later. (OMG, this is the sketchiest thing ever! And what kinda psycho is blackmailing you because you're selling gum).
Start out buying 3 packs but as your business gets better buy more. (don't want to have to much inventory. It could really wreck your cash flow...though I would totally go to Sam's Club and get the like gross of gum).
Never listen to people who say they will pay you back the next day, or give out "samples"; people will take you less seriously and try to take advantage if they find out. (No shit. It's middle school ...or maybe high school...either way, these are stupid kids).
Never eat your merchandise, no matter how much you crave a stick of gum. You can bunch a few packs together and take a good whiff, but that’s it. (so now you are huffing gum? I would think you would want to chew it and have others see you and wish they had a piece a gum. Just thought it would be a good marketing scheme to create demand.)
Most of your profit will be in quarters. Roll them up using quarter rolls and take them to the bank. You can deposit them in your account, (If you don't have a bank account, now would be a good time to open one.) or cash 'em up. Avoid using "Coinstar" type machines. They may be easier to use, but they will take some of your profit as a transaction fee. (Though make sure you split up the deposits or the bank teller may become suspicious and blackmail you..ha)
Keep a record of your overall profit. (this is actually a good idea...you could create a whole income statement...I had accounting today...sorry)
You may eventually become well-known and approached by customers rather than you approaching them. This is a good thing. (unless of course it's an undercover agent for the gum police).
A 25 cent pack of gum suddenly becomes worth a million dollars when people are listening to that boring lecture in class. (wait...I thought we were doing 20 cents? when did inflation suddenly kick in mid wikihow?)
Be nice and respectful to any potential customers. (True)
Don't bring large dollar bills to school. You may think that's a clever idea so that you can sell to people who only have 20s, but it can get lost or stolen. (or people could think you are dealing drugs)
Wear clothes with many pockets but try not to put the gum in your pants because it can get smushed and look like bad quality gum. (hahahahahaha)
Don't over approach people. Remember your trying to keep a low profile! (stay on the dl)
Don't over PRICE your gum. 25 cents is the most to charge for a piece. (I would think you would have to gauge your market to see what price the market can bear...i would bet that there are school's where the going price for gum in higher than others)
25 cents might be not a lot more than 20 but it sounds like it is the way you say it even if it's not. (huh?)

Warnings (There's more?)
To be sneaky, In class, walk around desk-to-desk with gum in your pockets offering some gum. (this is getting more ridiculous as it got on...as all good blog subjects do)
Be wary of snitches, they usually come in the form of a nice do-gooder boy, so be careful. If people then ask what flavors you have, they will most likely be customers (what about nice do-gooder girls? don't they snitch? I think this wikihow is sexist!)
Be wary selling individually wrapped sticks. Those are not sealed, and you have no way of proving to people that you didn’t do anything to the gum. (um..unless you're a really sketchy kid then you shouldn't have to prove that you didn't tamper with it...oh wait...you're sneaking around selling gum which automatically makes you sketchy)
Don't get caught in the act! (No shit!)
if a kid in your class is related to a person of the staff, don't sell it to them, they might rat you out. you don't want that! (Double no shit)
Another idea of how to sneak gum in class is pass a note around asking people if they want pass only to kids you know won't rat you out,everyone knows how to not get caught with a note right, so its easy. Slide the gum wrapped in a sliver of paper to your customers Ask for the money first. (Is it just me or if you are this paranoid about getting caught, maybe you aren't the type of person that should be selling gum around school.)
If you really need a spot to put the gum, try your pencil case. (we're concerned about smashed gum, but gum with graphite all over it is ok...and now I'm also wondering what grade we're talking about here, because I didn't have a pencil case past elementary school.)"

Well, that was fun wasn't it?

JSto, Voodoo High Priestess

First day of B School Classes is tomorrow, but I actually read ahead (because I'm a brown noser) and have time to blog. I really thought I'd have more to blog about with orientation, but I don't. I guess the Girl Scouts has numbed me to every day normal stupidity. The one thing they really are pushing is all these career and personality tests to make sure that you end up in the right job. I recently got my Myers-Briggs report and found it moderately ridiculous, so I'm going to blog about it. It will probably be funnier for those that know me, but hopefully I can make enough mocking remarks that it will be a least mildly entertaining for all.

"INFJ (This stands for introversion, intuition, feeling and judging...i only got a 1 on introversion, so i'm not that introverted...I mean, obviously): Creative Observer and Developer (I get the creative developer, but what does a creative observer do? Do I watch plays or what?)

It is estimated that only 1% of the adult population fall into this category. (Because 1% of the population is AWESOME!) These unique types are interested in people and in better life for others. (Well, some others at least...not all others). They may express through their poetry or other forms of writing, the arts, drama or music (or food art).

The INFJ's strength lies in their gentitlity, caring and interpersonal sensitivity. (BAHAHAHAHA) They are often viewed to be warm, understanding and almost mystical in their ability to understand the feelings of others. (People say I'm mystical all the time).

They do not aspire to a lot of attention and friends (Says who?) They have an uncanny ability to predict what others will do in a given situation, often before the other may decide for him or herself. These attributes may lead the INFJ and others to view this talent as beyond logic--maybe even ESP (woooooo...On a sidenote: I had a friend in middle school that swore that ESP stood for Extra Special Powers)

They do not usually do well with highly repetitive, routine work where they are not given the opportunity to think for themselves. (in fact, one might even say it makes them want to gouge their eyes out with a rusty ice pick). They are the inventors rather than the implementers. (So creative, but lazy). Strong INFJ's are almost viewed as magical with their ability to intuit. (Seriously, when has anyone thought that I was mystical or magical?)

The INFJ may find personal stress management techniques such as meditation or yoga (now we're talking) to be especially helpful in gaining perspective and improved feeling of health). The INFJ are highly imaginative and have rich inner lives--they tend to be idealists. (Now comes my favorite part)

Careers INFJs tend to choose most include: Religious work/clergy (as in voodoo high priestess), education (and work with kids ALL day?), writing (I'm not disturbed enough), medicine (eww...blood), social science, research (how does this relate to people at all) and social work.

Careers INFJs tend to choose least include: Police (phew), corrections (it would be a conflict of interest anyway), probation (double phew), sales agents (someone please tell my father that I DONT want to go into sales), mechanical work, bank management and supervision in factory-type work."

Does Everyone Know What a Lint Trap Is?

Because apparently the former tenant of my apartment did not.

YEAH, I got my new laptop, so that means I can post more regularly (provided I actually have time) and can add pictures.

So I did laundry (because well, that's what you do when you live on your own) and not only did I find that the former tenant had left a sock in the dryer, but also a couple pounds of lint.

I felt like I should spin it into yarn and knit something out of it. After pulling out all that lint, underneath the trap was still all fuzzy looking.

I had to take a vacuum to it. Isn't that so gross? Anyway, I have lots to tell you about orientation...woohoo!! PS I kinda want to share my blog with some of my new friends, but I'm scared that some of the thoughts in my blog make me a bad person...thoughts? Is it too early to show them the "true" JSto?

Letters from Prison: The Shank

Before I get started, I just want to mention how much I love using the word shank. Shank Shank Shank Shank and may start referring to every sort of knife type implement as a shank. "Can you pass me that shank so I can butter my bread?"

"Hey how are you adjusting to your new apt and your new town? (just peachy thanks for asking) Did you go explore it yet? (if by explore you mean get lost in random parts of town...then yes) Is there any good places around that you might like to go visit? (that I can hide out in when I escape) Well, I just watched these two girls fight (and here I was worried this letter was going to be dull). It was pretty funny cept for the fact one girl was 20ish and the other was 40ish (are we sure that these "two girls" weren't you and your mom?) and they said that the 20ish beat her up and I said I wonder why? (I really don't understand this part here at all) I bet she wouldn't of beat anyone up her age (feisty, aren't we?) then the 40ish was the one who started it then tried to cope out (I think you mean cop out, dear) when they were takin em to the hole. It was a stupid fight, just entertainment for 2 minutes (yep, I know how it is.) Nothing like that happens on the females side cept once in a blue moon. Um they put us on lockdowns (background info: previously she had said they were on lockdown, so I asked what they get put on lockdown for because I knew it would be golden material to work with) when people fight, they find shanks (shank shank shank shank...it's fun to type too), drugs, a medical emergency (like if someone got shanked?) or electric malfunction...or understaffed! The reason we were on lockdown for a week was cause we were yelling to guys in the dayroom (sounds like fun!) and we were so loud the lt's heard us (don't you just hate when that happens). Then after we got off they put us right back on cause 2 guys were fighting and they found a shank. are you letting your hair grow back? (honestly, I did not cut out anything here...her next sentence after shank was are you letting your hair grow back?) It's always good to laugh (I don't know where this came from, possibly something I said in my last letter, but I don't remember). I guess laughter heals the heart. I'm pretty funny myself (obviously) but I still like to be around funny people. When I was a pothead (are you kidding me? shank and pothead in the same letter? This is GOLD!) it was a funny fest all the time. "stoners" are very funny. (I can't make this up people!) I wrote a poem and sent it to a contest and it made it to the semi-finals and is gonna be published. (my opinion of poetry has just hit the shits!) I'm happy about that! Did you go to John Fred's concert? (yes, I did) Was he opening for Kid Rock? (yes, he was) If he his that whats up? (huh? I think someone's been in the hole a little too long!) well, i'm gonna go. i'll talk 2 you soon!"

Wow...brilliant.

Why Best Buy Sucks and John Fred Rocks

Ok, so we're onto Friday which was the day I officially had to be out of my apartment. I dropped off my key at the office without much problem. Then I decided to call Best Buy to check on my laptop since it was supposed to be done in "5-7 days" and it was now 8. My computer had not had anything done to it yet and was still 10th in line. I informed Best Buy that I would be picking up my laptop and taking it to North Carolina with me, so that's what I did. UGH!

That afternoon I went shopping with Amanda 1 at the Hershey Outlets and bought some yoga pants and a poncho because...that evening was the big concert at Hershey and oh yeah, it was raining ALL DAY.

Danielle were going to the Lynyrd Skynyrd (you have to scream Skynyrd and raise a fist/hand of rock when you read this) and Kid Rock concert which Black Stone Cherry was opening for and John Fred (my friend who's BSC's drummer) had gotten us tickets. The concert was supposed to start at 6, so around 4:30 we first went to the ticket office to see if they had our tickets. Unfortunately they only had Kid Rock's guest list which really ticked off one of the other guys in line who "Just had lunch with Lynyrd Skynyrd" and obviously likes to name drop. Danielle then bitched for about an hour and 15 minutes about how she wanted her tickets. Luckily the weather had cleared so we weren't standing in the rain. We finally got our tickets just before the doors opened. We were in the "golden circle", which for those of you who never attended a concert at Hershey Stadium is the first fifteen rows on the floor. You have to go through two things of ushers to get to them. We were row 12 in the center (and had better seats than the angry Lynyrd Skynyrd guy). They were really really good seats and the bands actually looked like actually regular sized people instead of the little tiny people we usually see from our seats.

BSC went on first and was really good. We went back by the merchandise table and saw John Fred for the band's meet and greet. He was really grateful that we had come and kept saying "how were your seats? were they good?" Uh..you gave us $90 seats for free...they could've been anywhere and as long as they were free would've been good. After that, things started to get crazy. People were ridiculous drunk and there was also some pot smoking going on, but not as much as I would've thought. This guy in front of us reached into a girl's pants and ripped off her thong in three pieces and proceeded to throw it around the crowd. (Honestly, my description can not do this incident justice). The guy left for some reason and the girl turns around and says "he's not even my boyfriend." Uh...ok? Then one of the vendors (who is like 17 or something, but looks 10) came up to Danielle and the guy beside her thought he was her kid...too funny! Concert ended and we managed to making it home while avoiding drunk people laying in the parking lot, weaving in and out of traffic and throwing up in front yards on Chocolate Avenue...All in all a good night!

Stay tuned for Letter from Prison: Shanks.

Packing in the Inferno

Now that I'm officially unpacked in my new place, I guess that means it's time to blog about packing (I hate not having a personal computer). The air conditioning in my old apartment would break about every 3 days or so and I'd call them and they would come "fix" it and it would be ok for 3 more days. They said it was leaking freon. Well, the day before the packers were coming, the maintenance guy came to look at the unit in my apartment (rather than just the one outside) because outside wasn't leaking fast enough that it should run out that quickly. So he came in, turned off the AC unit so that he could "hear the leak" unscrewed and some things said it was leaking freon into my apartment (that can't be good) and he'd have to see if they had the part and would be "right back". He left the unit all ripped apart, the light in the closet on and all his tools on the floor. He never came back. I ran into him out in the parking lot and asked him what the deal was, could I turn my AC back on or what. He told me he needed to order a part and would be back first thing the next morning. That was two days before I moved and I never saw him again.

That night it was scorching hot in my apartment. The thermostat said 87, and I can only open my sliding door on the balcony which screams "please come in and rob me in the middle of the night." I wasn't really sure if it was any cooler outside anyway, so I closed it when I went to bed. I put all my sheets and my pajamas in the freezer and managed to get cool enough to fall asleep and then woke up at 6am in a sweat.

The packers arrived and kinda annoyed me. I'm not really sure why. They just weren't that friendly. I apologized for it being so hot and offered them water and stuff, but always kept imagining that they were talking about my stuff when they were on breaks. "dude, what is with all the Alice in Wonderland shit?" "Did you see how fat that chick used to be?" Anyway, I just sat there really not knowing what to do because a) I'm not helping because I'm paying you and b) I'm not leaving because its my stuff. It only took them about three hours (and after unpacking I can see why...they did a pretty shitty job).

That night I spent at my gramma's air conditioned house (since everything I had was packed...except for random items like a plastic thing of cookie cutters which I'm not sure if the packers missed or what). However, I was slightly panicked because I didn't have my cell charger or my glasses and was slightly concerned they had been accidentally packed. Also, my gramma wasn't sure if her alarm worked or not and since my cell phone had died and my charger was missing didn't have a back up plan. I woke up at 5 am and decided to just go back to my apartment and nap on the couch so that I knew I would be up when the movers came.

The movers came and they were friendlier than the packers and it took them only 2 hours to load everything up (which allowed me time to meet Carmen and Kate for lunch). I had been given a seven day window in which my stuff could arrive in Winston-Salem, but was told to ask the truck driver as he would have a better idea. Here's that conversation:

Me: Do you know what day you'll be delivering my stuff to Winston-Salem?
Mover: Sunday
Me: This Sunday?
Mover: yeah, is there a problem with that?
Me: Well, they gave me the dates of the 3rd through the 9th and that's the 2nd.
Mover: Oh, I guess we'll be there Monday then.

Apparently a seven day span was not enough. Anyway, after they left, I cleaned my apartment (in the ungodly heat) and left to spend another night at my grandma's.

Stay tuned for the next post: Why Best Buy sucks and John Fred rocks.

Peace Out, Girl Scouts

I swore to myself that during my computer time today, I would get at least one meaningful blog post done. Being without a computer has really put me behind and material is coming in fast and furious. (I got a letter from prison yesterday and it uses the word "shank" so you know it has to be good.)

One final word about vacation (holy crap that was over a month ago). We had a sandcastle building contest for all the kids. It was like way too serious of a competition as teams were formed pretty much by random (except that a younger kid was always with an older kid) and there were stacks of tools that were given to each team so that everyone pretty much had the same stuff to work with. The time limit was an hour and a half. My mom and I were judges since we were the only ones (other than my dad who really didn't care what was going on) that didn't have children/grandchildren in the competition. My mom took it way too seriously and was taking notes and crap like that. In the end, everyone got a prize for bogus categories ("best use of materials" ), but then there was one grand prize ($10...woah..big time).

Now onto me quitting and leaving the Girl Scouts which can basically be defined as AWKWARD! My direct supervisor (Susan) was on vacation the week when I came back, so I knew I had to hand in my 2 weeks notice to our COO. So that morning, I basically stalked her until she was available. After walking by her office for the fourth time, I found her in there, door open but with someone else. I just stuck my head in and said "I need to talk to you then when you have a second." So about a half hour later she came to my office, I told her I was leaving, she was happy, the End. No big drama. BUT in typical Girl Scout fashion no one says anything to anyone else. I go tell the receptionist because I know she will tell EVERYONE. I also tell my "team" (I use that word in the loosest sense possible) and e-mail all my volunteers because that's who I really care about.

Flash forward a week when Susan is back from vacation. I accidentally overslept for the first time in three years which made me angry because it looked like I was purposely slacking off (I wasn't). She's sitting in her office. I creep by and put my stuff in my office, so I can start this awkward conversation without things in my hands. PS I had a "goal planning" meeting scheduled with her at 10, so knew I had to clear this up first thing.

Me: Hey, so I guess Anne told you the big news.
Susan: No, what?
Me: I handed in my two weeks notice last week. Friday is my last day.
Susan: (the color draining from her face) Oh

My one on one meeting that had been scheduled with her was just as ridiculous. I basically told her what I planned to get done and that was that. I expected her to add some things that she wanted me to finish up or whatever before I left, but she didn't.

Then I had a secret informant who I had told to inform me if they were planning any sort of party or whatever, so that I could be prepared to be sufficiently surprised. (not that I ended up needing an informant). She told me they had sent out an invitation that they were going to be having a "light and healthy" potluck lunch for me on Friday at 1:30, which is both a stupid time and a stupid description. I want cake, Damn it! Another coworker of mine (who was not my original informant) forwarded me the e-mail and commented on the stupidity of its nature.

Friday came. Susan decided to take me out to brunch, which solved my "I normally eat at noon, but if I don't eat, it looks like I know about the surprise dilemma." I expected this to be an information gathering session about how things are at the office and intended to inform her about how worthless one of my coworkers was, but alas it was merely Susan's final attend to be friendly with one of the "cool kids" at the office and utterly weird and awkward.

Friday around noon I had a phone call from TT telling me she "couldn't make it to the afternoon party, but wanted to wish me well." Remember it's a surprise. Then around 1:15 a coworker came to scavenge my office and said she'd "see me in a few." Then at 1:30 all workers vacated their cubicles (except for unknowing me of course) and I got a call asking me to "come to the kitchen. We're cleaning out the refrigerator and there's something that has a J on it that might be yours." Yeah, right. SURPRISE. There was lots of light and healthy food and a cake! They also gave me a Girl Scout necklace. because "it's not like she hates Girl Scouts."

Then that evening the real going away bash happened when Carmen and Kate and I went to the Melting Pot and ate Fondue until we were going to explode. I took pictures of my Yin Yang-tini, but can't find the USB port on this computer, so sorry, no pictures for you.

Still No Computer

Just wanted to let everyone know I'm fine and in Winston-Salem (aka "The Dash") not really sure how I feel about that nickname. I still have no computer because Best Buy sucks, but I've gotten an in with the MBA program so I have someone that is willing to swipe me into the computer lab until I get my ID, so that's nice.

Unpacking is horrible. Where did I get so much crap?

I've already used my jacuzzi tub and I have air conditioning so that's a big improvement over my old place. I have so much to tell you but don't really feel like taking care of that all now. So here's a brief summary of what's coming up:

Vacation finale: nothing really happened except the sandcastle building contest so we'll skip this.
My resignation and last days: complete awkwardness and ridiculousness as always
Moving: no air conditioning, and moving people that can't read a calendar
Best Buy sucking: yes, there will be more on this
The Concert: so many things to say, so little room

Oh and PS: my dad's strike is finally over after 3 and half years. They ruled in the company's favor and de-unionized the factory. Can you believe I was working at the Hall of Fame when all that mess started? I mean really.