The times, they are a-changin'

Hello 2010, good-bye 2009. I have to say that the end of 2009 was a lot better than the beginning and I'm very grateful for the new people that came into my life during the last few months of the decade. Friends gained, friends lost. It's already twelve days into the new year and I'm so excited to see where things are going to go both personally and professionally.

Now, here's a recap.

On Wednesday (1/6/10) someone jumped the counter at work while I was away from the desk and stole my purse. My manager's desk drawers had also been opened but nothing was taken from there. Thankfully I didn't have a lot of cash in my purse but whoever it was did get the only key to my car so I've been relying on other people for rides to and from wherever I need to go since then. Here's hoping the company will pay for it but I'm not holding my breath on it, judging from their past actions.

I have a new boyfriend =) And that's about all I can say on that 'cause he doesn't want it getting out that he's actually a nice guy. He has a reputation to uphold and all that, y'know.

Work is driving me nuts but hopefully *fingers crossed* I won't have to put up with it for much longer. Again, that's all I can say about that at this point mostly because I don't want to jinx anything. Things are definitely getting exciting though so we'll see how it goes in the next couple of weeks.

More on life to come later but for now I have to prepare myself for the aforementioned crazy-inducing work.

Mandatory smoking room

Monday and Tuesday nights are usually our busiest nights at the hotel. Last year we were consistently booked solid during the beginning of the week. If you weren't one of our regulars and you got a room, whatever room, you were happy about it.

The after-work rush had quieted down and I checked this guy in, normal routine, and he went up to his room. About five minutes later, he called me.

"Front desk, this is Sarah, how can I help you?"

"Uh, hello?"

Great. I can already tell you're going to be difficult. "Yes, how may I help you?"

"Yeah, uh, is this a smoking room?"

"Yes sir, it is."

"But I wanted a non-smoking room."

Whoops. You didn't mention that in your reservation or when you checked in, but I forgot I'm supposed to be psychic. My bad.

"I do apologize about that sir, there wasn't a note in the reservation and unfortunately that's the only room I have available tonight. Would you like me to bring up some air freshener?"

"Oh no, it doesn't really smell that bad, but do I have to smoke in here?"

And here is where my brain shorted out. See, I have a bad habit of hoping for the best in people, so sometimes I get caught off guard by their stupidity and my brain just kind of shuts down momentarily.

"Uhmm..." *brain reboots* Remember Sarah, little words. "No sir, you are not required to smoke in the smoking room, that's your choice."

"Oh ok, I just wanted to check and make sure."

Confession

I love wedding shows. And looking at wedding magazines. And looking at people's wedding photos. Every time Erica left the living room this weekend I would sneak the channel over to "Say yes to the dress!" and I love trolling thru photography blogs to look at the wedding pictures.

That being said, I've never sat down and planned out my wedding (whenever the heck that might happen). I have ideas, but not plans, and I don't intend to make any either. I guess I just like watching other people plan for (what should be) one of the happiest moments of their lives.

And damn, some of those dresses are AMAZING!

A Soft Place to Land

I will never use regular bar soap again.

I'm not a shower-product addict. Yes, I worked at Bath & Body Works for a while but I have to admit that I greatly under-utilized my employee discount (which also applied at Victoria's Secret, damnit). I just never really saw the point in the fancy sponges and flowery smelling gels that seemed to wear off once I toweled off. They were pointless. They were too expensive. They take up too much damn room in my shower -- seriously, do these company think normal people have frickin' bookcases in the showers? Come on.

So I used Lever 2000, Coast, Irish Spring, whatever happens to be lying around when I discover that we're out of soap -- which usually happens when I'm already in the shower and rinsing shampoo out of my hair. It got me clean and that was all I cared about, until I tried Skin So Soft by Avon.

I will never use regular bar soap again. My skin has never been so soft, so utterly touchable and smooth. People have always told me I have really soft skin, but I had no idea that it could get even better. Avon, I am yours.

I have to wonder though, what else have I been missing out on? I'm a cuddly person by nature, always hugging (or tackling, in Amber's case, since I only see her once every few months) my friends and snuggling with furry animals. I'm like one big pillow: everything about me is soft, and small children love to fall asleep on me. I love that...I love being a soft place to land.

Zombieland

What do you get when you cross ravenous zombies, a Twinkie-lovin butt kickin' fast talkin' redneck, a quiet over-thinking phobic nerd, a token cold-exterior but heart-of-gold hottie, Abigail Breslin, and copious amounts of oozing fake blood?

Zombieland.

This movie is epic. Thursday night my friend Pru and I attended a special screening (my brother won tickets on 29-95.com and gave them to me since he had to work) at the MarqE center. There we were, surrounded by more nerds and geeks than you'd find at a half-price anime sale (I mean that in the best possible way) and we had a blast.

This movie is witty, scary enough to make Pru scream like a school-girl, features an unexpected yet hilarious cameo, and just an all-around good time. But please, don't take your kids unless you want them to be permanently afraid of using public restrooms.

The Invention of Lying

Sometimes I really wish people would be more accountable and just call things for what they are. My case in point (at least for today) is Ricky Gervais' new movie, The Invention of Lying. Judging from the previews, it's about some guy who learns how to lie in a world where no one else can or does. Everyone is (hilariously) brutally honest, so on and so forth, and I'm sure hi jinks ensue. At least that's what the marketing campaign wants you to think.

Apparently the movie is actually about religion. The characters in this world have no concept of God or Heaven or any of it until Gervais' character comes along and makes up a story about "the man in the sky". At least, that's what I read in EW (and we all know I love my EW).

Don't get me wrong, I like Ricky Gervais. Jennifer Garner is also in the movie and anyone that's seen me watch 13 Going On 30 every day for a week can atest to the fact that I absolutely love her, too. I have a problem with the fact that Ricky Gervais is claiming this movie is not anti-religious.

Seriously dude? If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's a frickin' duck.

Don't try and skirt around the controversy that a movie about a man who makes up God in his world is going to stir up. Call it what it is and get on with it. I'm still going to go see the movie regardless, but now instead of spending $9 on a Friday night, I'll probably go Saturday morning, pay $4 for some cheesy chick flick, and sneak into this one afterwards.

I want my movie trailers to be honest with me. Don't worry, your plotline isn't going to shake my faith or my love for God. I'm a big girl, honest...I can handle it.

Love is black and white

I was eight years old the first time I fell in love and for me, love was black and white. It wasn't the tormented affair I saw on my mother's daytime soap operas and it certainly wasn't a tale of unrequited love. I loved him and he loved me, no questions about it. My first love was a furry four month old kitten named Buster.

Ok, maybe that's not quite the whole story. Truth be told, I didn't want him at first. I wanted the six week old orange tabby kitten that could barely walk and stuck me with its claws every time I held it.

It was the day after Christmas and my mom, brother and I were looking at the kitties at the SPCA, and don't even get me started on how sad that damn shelter made me -- I wanted to take them ALL home. I got the impression that Dave and mom were pretty set on getting a black and white cat (whose Christmas present is this, anyway?) just because it seemed to be tradition or something.

Despite that pretty blue-eyed orange kitten mewing at me from behind the glass I ended up with this sweet-yet-shy troublemaker that was terrified of strangers and plastic sacks. For the first two days the term "stranger" applied to our family as well and he spent most of his time hiding underneath something though I can't remember what. He eventually warmed up to us, and me, and he's still under foot today, fifteen years later, still begging for food at all hours of the night and leaving tiny bruises on my legs because he's so freakin' fat but his paws are so freakin' small.

Love came in other shades, too, but so far Buster is the only one that's managed to stick around. We were a one cat household for a long time, but then we got a dog...and then my grandmother gave me a horse (Daddy was none too pleased about that one)...and then I woke up one day and realized we had somehow amassed a gaggle of four cats.

How that happened, I really have no idea. I love animals but my dad...well, not so much, and I swear he almost had a fit anytime he would turn around and see one of the animals sitting on something other than the floor. Sometimes I feel bad for him about that; the bond between human and animal is unlike any other. Buster loves me no matter what, doesn't get mad when I'm snippy after a bad day at work, and only wants love (and kibble).

He's the perfect guy, really, which is why I go to him on my worst days. It sounds cliche` but I can always find comfort in his soft fur. He doesn't judge me even when I feel like I deserve to be judged, and for that kind of unconditional love there are no words. So I'll take the two a.m. "feed me!" wake up calls, the hair balls, the white cat hair on my black work pants, even the stinky litterbox, and be grateful to do so.