Tuesday, January 26, 2010

me + commute = failure

i've realized something about myself. im horrible at commuting. im downright awful at it. its embarrassing really but i have to admit it. i think im losing my mind in the midst of it all. i talk to myself. i criticize myself. i talk to the car. "hey mr murano, what do you think? should i pass the smart car and buzz the driver? no!? such a partypooper."

if anyone ever plants a candid camera in the murano, i'll be a hit on youtube.

i'm just so tired of driving so far twice a day. and i always wondered how it'd work when an emergency popped up and i had to fly home. i mean, im a good 45 minutes away (says google maps) but with traffic on 91, its much closer to a hour or more. well, yesterday gave me the chance to test that out.

my mom texts me after she shows up at my house to get the kids off the bus in the afternoon:

"front door is wide open"

So.. I call frantically, of course. Fearing for my mother and children, my animals, my house.. and she tells me that one of the doors was opened into the living room. I panicked, asked her where the animals were and then told her to get the hell out.

I called the police and asked them to go by the house and check for any bad guys hiding in the basement. I got a text once I entered Massachusetts, "Coast is clear".

Thankfully, all of the animals were accounted for, even bentley. this is amazing and i count every single one of my lucky stars for that.


After driving so restrained and praying to every God i could remember, I'm thinking it's about time to get a job closer to home. Heaven forbid anything happens to my children and i have to make that drive again, i cant be sure im going to obey all the speed limits. or obey anything, really. because my children are the most precious and treasured beings in my life.. and to know that im one hour away from even getting to them is torture.

I dont know how professional commuters do this. Ive only been doing the commuting thing since November- not even three months! - and I'm already like, wtf. and my poor, poor murano is suffering badly, too. the tires and windshield needed replacing all within the last month. i still need to get the engine oil changed and the tires need an alignment and balancing, still. and the rotors, brakes and belts need to be done, too! i never had this much work done on a car all at once and i'm sure its a result of this crazy commute.

i think it's time to re enter the job market, eh?

Friday, January 8, 2010

my law book showed up.

and im officially extremely unexcited about that class. i opened the book and saw at least five words i'd have to look up on dictionary.com. damn it.

so here's my goal in 2010. have more fun. that should be pretty simple. alex and i are planning a weekend getaway soon.. maybe at the end of said extremely unexciting law class- which is six weeks away. i originally wanted to get to an island or something that required a passport.. but we figured we'd start small and head to NY and catch a broadway show.. maybe visit the Met.. and seek out that incredibly romantic italian place in little italy that we bumbled upon back in, omg, what year was that?? it was way before liam. i dont remember but it was a long time ago.. maybe we were still in south hadley?

anyway, the point was that we dont even remember the name of it. we had told the taxi driver to bring us to little italy because i was starving and wanted to enjoy some primavera and tiramisu. the cab driver dropped us at a corner and we started perusing the menus displayed outside. we came across one that already had its christmas lights out, gave it a second glance and kept walking.. but before we could take more than two steps, the owner reached out and put his arm around alex and lead us inside promising the best tiramisu in new york.

so we go in and he sat us at this little table in the quietest corner of the restaurant. we had the most fabulous food ive ever had. and then, true to his word, the tiramisu was to die for

we never found out the name of the place. so maybe we'll go back and try to find it again.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

just breathe already!

seriously. alex has conked out next to me and has stopped breathing in his sleep at least three times. isnt this sleep apnea? yeah, not scary. at all.
i feel like such an asshole when i wake him up, too. i tend to not wake him up all gentle: i'm like, shoving him and poking his sternum and freaking out with, "holy shit, will you effing breathe already? you're scaring the crap out of me!" like it's somehow something he can control. im the best fiance. ever.

Friday, October 23, 2009

about this time last year.

this time last year, i was an uncomfortable pregnant mess. i was hiking, though, as often as I could with Bentley. its nearly impossible to tolerate that dog when he's wired and, being short fused with my enormity, i did everything i could to wear him out so i didnt have to deal with his craziness at home.

i was preparing for my baby to come in a few months, anticipting the sleeplessness, the overwhelming joy and the tears that are just inevitable with a newborn.

my life was about to take a life altering but immeasurably happy turn.

to my deepest regret, a good friend was about to experience a life altering event of her own but painfully drastic and entirely unfair. she lost a very, very dear member of her family. a nephew that was just like a brother. someone she loved so very much that i cried for hours upon hearing the news.

the polarity of the events is shocking. while i'm putting together baby furniture and decorating a nursery, she's frantically searching for answers and dealing with the gripping reality that a piece of her family is gone.

to my beautiful jennifer:
please know that you and your family are in my thoughts with Patrick's anniversary coming up so very soon. i hope you can find solace in the strength of your family and the love of your friends. i can't take away the pain or tears but i can offer an ear to listen whenever you need.

Bail o Dhia is Mhuir duit,
my kids call me frank

Saturday, October 17, 2009

The Hunt for Red Heels

I had to write a paper for marketing. I had to choose a product and document my shopping experience.

Here is the result:
Last week, I went on the hunt for a fantastic pair of red heels. Shoe shopping, for me, has always been a rough trip simply because of the sheer size of my feet. I was convinced that the elusive red heel would have been the perfect product on which to conduct my marketing research. Besides, it would at least be amusing to gauge salespeople’s reactions when I disclosed the enormity of my feet which would be shoved into those red, pointy toe heels.

First, I gathered up my support staff. Roxanne has been a long time friend of mine and enjoys indulging in my shoe shopping experiences. Furthermore, she’s much more blatant and outspoken, especially with sales people, which would make this trip even more entertaining.

Second, I lined up our conquests. Shoe designers, in general, aren’t too willing to create their masterpieces to fit size eleven feet. One never-fail stop was DSW in the Holyoke Mall. I can always count on their clearance racks for a grand supply of size elevens. Finding red heels amongst them might prove to be a challenge. The other chosen go-to place in the hunt for red heels was Marshalls. These two had lots in common: discounted prices, name brands and a gallery of shoes.

We started off at DSW for no other reason than it’s proximity to the pretzel shop. [Side note: as it turns out, pretzel bites and shoe shopping are really complimentary.] We started in the clearance section, which is located in the way, way back tucked away in a walled off section of the store. Uninspired signage directs consumers that this cramped back section is the Clearance section. We found a wide array of wonderful shoes, all in size eleven, neatly displayed against one main wall. That was very convenient as we witnessed a few shoppers get lost in the shuffle between shelves of size five and six (oh, how I wish!) due to lack of dividers. Above each wall display was a chart outlining the clearance prices of the shoes. There are different colors of stickers which indicate the clearance price. Easy stuff.

Not finding any red heels, we moved up to the full priced items in the main section of the store. Here, there were rows upon rows of sample shoes with the available sizes neatly stacked in boxes below each shoe sample. The displays were very efficient and the end caps call attention to high profile designers and the latest trends. It was clear, however, that the end caps were displaying the higher priced shoes as were the displays in the front entrance and the circular tables in the center aisle. The main walkways for consumers were smothered in very expensive trendy products and displayed in a fashion that even I, a devoted sneaker woman, started feeling a pang of desire. It’s entirely evident, if not completely obvious, that DSW caters to women and their shoe addictions. As for pricing, even the most oblivious of shoppers could not avoid the cost detailed on each display. DSW carefully marks each sample shoe with signage noting brand name, price and the “compare to” cost if one was to purchase the same pair of shoes in a department store.

We found a couple pairs of red heels. One pair was available in size eleven but was incredibly uncomfortable. The other pair was unavailable in my size. [I guess there’s a reason why pointy toe shoes aren’t made in size eleven..] When approached, the saleswomen were standoffish and unable to help. “Whatever is out is what we have in stock,” stated the employee. DSW, quite literally, is a Discount Shoe Warehouse and runs much differently than Macy’s, for example, in that a shoe salesperson does not acquire your specific sized shoes from the back room upon request. However, belying the name, the store was clean, well organized and visually appealing. Even though I did not locate any red heels, I did score a gorgeous pair of black peep toes at 40% off.

We darted over to Marshalls for our next stop in the Hunt for Red Heels, which has now morphed into a hysterical search for the most obscenely inappropriate size eleven heel that just happens to be red.

Marshalls is set up much like DSW but with much less space and even less selection. The sample shoe is displayed on a shelf with its available sizes stacked beneath it. However, this store is less organized and upon further inspection, many of the boxed shoes are intermingling with others. As in DSW, Marshalls does not employ a shoe salesperson of sorts. You’re on your own in finding your size amidst the pure chaos of disorganization. The prices are not as clearly labeled. Some have been vandalized. Some have been removed. Even others are just misplaced.

We happened to stumble upon the clearance section which was not visible from the front of the store and was not overtly inviting. The selection was of orthopedic shoes and neon green fuzzy slippers. The sizes of said shoes were not clearly identified as the clearance section in DSW. We were barely in the store ten minutes and I just wanted to leave. The experience was just overwhelming.

Convinced to continue, we worked our way over to the regular priced shoes. We immediately found a pair of red heels. They didn’t fit the pointy toe criteria but they were red nonetheless. Surprisingly, they were available in size eleven and weren’t that uncomfortable. I was excited until I managed to finagle the price tag. Unfortunately, there were out of my budget at $75.00.

One way that Marshalls outperformed DSW was in their end cap displays. Where DSW displayed the shoes that would satisfy the fashion conscious irregardless of price, Marshalls seemed to market the best deal. We found a pair of Merrell’s, normally priced at $90, prominently displayed on an end cap for $50.

In the end, I did not end up purchasing any red heels. It was difficult finding a pair that fit the criteria and were comfortable. After all, I was never one to follow that beauty and pain mantra. From a marketing perspective, I would appreciate a couple improvements to the whole shoe shopping experience. How about sorting shoes by color? Amazingly, there is very little selection when it comes to red heels. I honestly did not think it would have been an issue finding a pair. If they were sectioned out by the basics- Red, Navy, Black- can you imagine how much simpler this process would’ve been? Or better yet- create an entire section just for extra large piggies like mine (say, sizes 10-12) so we don’t have to drool over sample shoes, go digging through the boxes in vain because, in the end, they just don’t make those super cute shoes in our size. That would be fantastic.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

annoyed.

i have a cord chewing cat. particularly my laptop charger cord which we've replaced at least five times. We've decided that the baby's room is the best place to charge (read: hide) the laptop to avoid another $75+ cost. All was going well. Until today.

I brought the laptop out of the baby's room so I could to some research along with the charger cord because well, this battery sucks and only lasts a couple hours at a time. I had to leave the house and was in a hurry so I unplugged the cord and wrapped it up on the hutch.

I just came home and found the effing cord chewed. I'm going to scream. really. effing. loud.

WTF?!

There's a million cords in this goddamn house. WHY does he go after my laptop charger?!?

dear hgtv..

please come to the east coast, namely Ludlow, Massachusetts, and renovate my home and backyard. the west coast has been completely spoiled and its our (my) turn.

thank you kindly,
mykidscallmefrank