OFFICE FRIDGE

If your office is like mine, you probably had a staff refrigerator for stashing  lunches or Slim-Fasts if you prefer to drink your calories.  Many people store left over pizza or turkey wraps from a super-sized lunch on the rare times they eat out.  No matter what’s inside the fridge, over time, it seems like everything multiplies.  Suddenly there are four jars of jelly, eight bottles of salad dressing and numerous  bags of mystery food lining the shelves. 

Last week, as I struggled to store my left over chicken salad, I touched a bag of something gooey. Did I actually have the temerity to open it?  Not a chance. Something  squished in my hand, leaving a liquid trail drooling down the shelf.  It was then I noticed the bag had the name of an employee who had been laid off six months before. 

As I washed the science experiment off my hands, I realized I had had it! No way would I tolerate this hazmat of a refrigerator that was spawning more bacteria than the flu virus.  I was going to clean this thing out and make sure this would never happen again.

I anointed myself the fridge czar and sent a staff-wide memo that anything without a name would be tossed by Friday.  Suddenly, that Lean Cuisine with an expiration date going back to 2007 was a sacred cow.  How dare I throw it away?

Numerous suggestions flowed into my in box.   Why not alphabetize the shelves and create a personal space for each staff member?  Why not leave only one mustard in there at a time? Why did we have to put our names on things? The suggestions were endless, but no one offered to help me take on this gargantuan task.

Tossing bags filled with mystery food gave me a huge sense of accomplishment.  I cleaned every nook and cranny of the fridge and had it gleaming in less than an hour.  Suddenly, I was the darling of the office.  Accolades poured  in! So, this was the way to get  recognition-perfect!  Now that I’m the fridge czar I’m going to take on more territory.  Next, I’ll tackle the microwave!

FREE HUGGER

 

 

You'd notice Betty if you walked into the gym where I work out. And not just because she gives free hugs. She's the one with the completely color-coordinated outfits from head to toe. If she's got a gold sweater on (yes, she works out in fabulous cable knit sweaters), she'll have matching shoes and socks. She's also a big fan of Betty Boop so on any given day she may be wearing a top and socks with that iconic character on them.  Let's put it this way-Betty pulls it all together when she comes to the gym.

But it's the hugs I like the best. I'm not sure when they started.  Maybe it was after Betty lost her husband a few years back. Maybe she needed the touch of another human to help her through that loss. But the sequence goes like this: once you walk in the gym, Betty will get off whatever weight machine she's on and stroll over to give you a big hug. When I say big, I mean big. These are full-on, close-to- bear hugs. The woman can hug.

I'm sure my blood pressure lowers, my cortisol levels stabilize and my heart soars every time I get a hug from Betty. She should sell them. That's how good she is. I'm beginning to discover that maybe I need them just as much as she does. Whatever it is, her hugs are good medicine and while I don't remember when they started,I know I never want them to stop.

I HATE HOLIDAY LETTERS

We got a lot of holiday letters this year and some of them had a cringe factor of 10+. You know the kind I'm talking about. Don't you hate those families that send out holiday letters on candy cane bordered stationery and use both sides of the paper to regale you with their overachievements for the year?

 

Like they have a daughter who invented a new cancer vaccine at Harvard Medical School and  a son who’s dating Pippa, the sister of Kate Middleton, who married the Prince of Wales and another son who solved global warming using algae. You know the ones…you loathe reading those letters after the first sentence of how they spent the new year in a castle in Tuscany. Let’s admit it.  We all hate them.

So I've decided to boycott writing holiday letters and reading them too.  Maybe it's because our family doesn’t have glorious stories about life-changing events.  We're actually quite boring.  Suffice it to say we’re still here, we’re still smiling and despite life’s challenges, we are grateful for life’s sense of humor. And we’re still waiting for the cancer cure, another royal wedding and the solution to global warming. So get busy!

DOWN WITH TOTES

I hate the person who invented totes. You know what I’m talking about. Totes are those plastic bins that come in all shapes and sizes so you can store stuff that really should be thrown out but you’re not quite ready to part with.

When we downsized our mother from a four bedroom house to a one bedroom apartment, we discovered that she is a tote-aholic.  This woman had an inventory of totes that would rival Target’s distribution center.  Seriously, the woman had totes.  Going through them was an adventure. I discovered loads of totes filled with my father’s clothes. My dad had been gone for over two years but she held on to his clothes in totes that were piled high in the basement.  I was in awe wondering how she got them stacked so high without the benefit of a forklift.

We had to get rid of them  all, but where? I decided to haul the totes to the Goodwill full of the stuff rather than empty them.  After all, an empty tote is an open invitation to get more stuff. And then, you need to store it.  I say we get rid of all the totes and take back our lives.

 

AMERICANS: ARE WE THAT OBVIOUS?

I was visiting with a woman who had recently returned from a trip to Spain. She described how one lazy afternoon while sipping a glass of wine, she was approached by a stranger. Without so much as an introduction, the young man began to scold her about U.S. policy in the Middle East. She tried to appease him, but how does one begin to dissect the complexities of that region as a common citizen?

“We’re targets because we kinda stick out like sore thumbs, don’t we?” I said.

She nodded. “It’s the tennis shoes and the college sweatshirts, you know?”

“Or our insistence that the rest of the world speak English.”

While we can be an obnoxious group of world travelers, I remember a time right after 9/11 that the world was on our side. Three weeks after 9/11, I was on a plane to Italy with two girlfriends. Great timing on our part, huh? The plane was eerily empty since most Americans had cancelled their travel plans.

When we landed in Rome, we insisted on staying awake despite hella jet lag. We went out in our jeans and tennis shoes (but no sweatshirts) to find an outdoor café for a cappuccino. A delightful waiter came over to take our order.

“Hello,” he said in English.

Of course, he knew we were Americans from the get-go.  We stand out everywhere, but much more so in Italy. Those Italians can dress. I’ve never seen more Armani and Versace in my life.

I noticed the American flag lapel pin on his waiter’s jacket. I felt a lump in my throat.

“We love America,” he said in beautifully accented English.

He motioned around to the buildings surrounding the café. American flags hung in nearly every window of the apartments in the piazza. We hadn’t noticed them before due to our jet lag. But we did now. We three Americans began to cry at the sight, the bitter memory of that day replaced with the heartfelt love we felt from complete strangers in Italy. It was a beautiful moment to be an American, tennis shoes and all.

GOT MANNERS?

I recently attended a conference at one of the big hotels in downtown Phoenix. We had nice plated breakfast and lunches, lots of snacks at break time and great sessions to attend.

Here's something I discovered at the conference. A lot of people out there have absolutely no manners anymore.  Somewhere along the way we've forgotten how to act at the dinner table. I'm not sure if this is because no one cooks anymore or we've just gotten lazy, but I was taken aback  by some of the behvior I witnessed.  And it takes quite a lot to shock me.

One guy grabbed a roll from the bread basket and began eating without asking if anyone else cared for one. He didn't bother to pass the basket around the table until prompted. Another guy ate my salad by mistake and I was too polite to tell him. One man picked his teeth at the table. This would have been bad enough if he did it with a toothpick, but this guy used his fingernail instead. When another man placed his dessert on top of the dirty lunch plate and started eating his apple pie, I knew I'd had enough. I politely excused myself from the table. Not a single man stood up when I left, which is a dining etiquette rule they had apparently never learned.

I gained some valuable insight that day.  Manners do matter and create lasting impressions. I wish we'd start using them more often.

TO HOOT OR NOT TO HOOT?

My work involves helping people find jobs. I think I'm pretty good at it, but every once in a while, I get asked a question that I'm not quite sure how to answer. That's when I call my employer friends for advice.

A woman who wants to enter the education field has been working at Hooter's as a server.  Quickly, what came into your mind when I said, "Hooter's"? If you're like me, I saw a blonde bimbo with voluptous breasts straining to break out of a skintight T-shirt. Nice marketing job by Hooter's but not exactly the woman you'd want to be teaching your 2nd grader, right?

I know my biases so I decided to phone a friend. After speaking with a principal from an elementary school  and a representative from the financial services industry, I’ve summarized their thoughts on whether or not to list Hooter’s as a place of employment.

Female Principal

She definitely likes to know that people are working while going to school but felt that Hooter’s on a teaching resume would not serve in her best interests.  The principal didn’t want to prejudge but most females have a negative perception of Hooter’s and since the vast majority of school administrators are female, it’s not a good idea to put it on.  She suggested highlighting educational experience and any volunteer work.  Or, the woman could simply put server at a downtown restaurant and leave off the name.

Male Financial Representative
 Working at Hooter’s would not make or break an interview situation for him.  He said that it takes a lot of self confidece and demonstrates that a woman can handle herself well in most situations.  It takes a certain personality to work at Hooter’s which would fit well with his industry.  In the final analysis, he said that since so many people have negative connotations about the restaurant, it might be better to not list by name. Opinions will vary based on the industry.

Now you can be the judge. To hoot or not to hoot? It all depends.