The Hobby Lobbyist

Man vs. nature...

2006-07-17T23:22:00.000-07:00

When I was in high school I remember learning about the types of conflict. In any story, there must be some form of conflict. As I recall, these are neatly categorized into 3 types: man (or woman) vs. man, man vs. self, and man vs. nature. Well, after spending the last 8 hours attempting to assemble shelving at the lobby of hobbies, I propose a new category: (wo)man vs. the poorly constructed shelving unit. No matter what I did, the different pieces of the puzzle just wouldn't come together. I think the saddest part was when my manager told me to go get the 36" shelves, so I went to the back and got shelves that looked approx. a yard tall. I came back and he informed me those were the wrong ones--I needed ones about as tall as me. I had to then inform him that there was no way a shelf 36" tall was as tall as me-- that would make me 3' tall. I know I'm short, but if a 36" shelf was "about as tall as me," I would qualify as a little person. I am now going to bed and dreaming of the end of this week when I no longer have to try to force long pieces of glass to fit into little metal pieces that have been banged around one too many times.

Resident Cranky Pants...

2006-07-14T00:55:00.000-07:00

I sometimes get a little too involved in my work. By this, I mean that I feel the need to right all the wrongs in corporate America by simply complaining with my co-workers. Here's a little known fact about me- I love to gossip, and even more than gossiping, I love to complain. Yep- it's the truth. The downside of complaining though is it just makes you even more mad and annoyed and therefore leads you to be even more upset than you were before you started... oh the cycle... So I found myself just being a completely miserable person at work today. I was annoyed with my boss, I was annoyed with one of my co-workers, and I was annoyed with customers that were difficult. All of these annoyances were somewhat justified, but that doesn't really change anything, does it? As I sat behind the fabric counter (yep- I ended up back in the fabric department for part of the night due to some poor scheduling) contemplating what a horrible person I was, something hit me--this was my choice. My world will, most likely, be constantly filled with situations and people that aren't exactly what I want to deal with. And my emotions will always fluctuate and run crazy. But--at the end of it all-- it's my choice to either embrace feelings and situations and let them control who I am, or I can choose who I want to be and force the rest of me to agree. Today, I chose to be happy. I chose to just enjoy where I was. It was amazing to watch how my day changed with this decision. I almost instantly felt better. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. I heard a guy at a Bible study the other day say something really profound. He said that throughout the Bible we see a pattern that looks like this:

1. God states reality.
2. Circumstances and situations contradict God's fact.
3. We choose.

I think that's what was happening today. God has stated that he only allows those things in my life that somehow work out for good (not necessarily my dream life- but my good). Today I had to choose between believing that my situation was for the good or believing that things were really as stinky as they seemed. I'm not saying that tomorrow I won't face this same choice, but at least today I made my choice. :)

On a random side note- I have recently been watching some daytime television since I work during prime time. This has caused me to develop a strange affection for Magnum PI. Despite its complete 80's-ness, I somehow still get drawn in every day from 12-1. Sad, but true.

Moving on....

2006-07-12T22:50:00.000-07:00

So I've been a slacker blogger lately. I apologize to anyone still reading this. As with most things, I started out with real gusto and then just kind of pooped out. Anyway, I have lots of exciting things to report.

1. I gave my two weeks notice, so soon I will no longer be the hobby lobbyist. I will attempt to continue to blog though- I promised a friend I would blog about my teaching experiences (I'm going to be teaching high school in the fall). Anyway- I'll probably set up a new blog for that--I'll let ya know.

2. I've been moved from fabrics to seasonal. So I can still help you pick out just the right material for your dining room chairs, but now I can also assist you in finding just the right pumpkin for your house or just the right Christmas ornaments.

3. Due to my new assignment, I now spend much more time towards the front of the store, so I see the sun a lot more. This makes me happy.

4. My new assignment also means I get to design stuff. For example, I spent last night setting up two tables of fall decorations. It's fun to decorate when you have a whole store of resources to choose from. My manager would tell me what needed to go on the table and then set me free to make it pretty. I think I took too long, but, let me tell you, it looks nice. I now have to watch it, or I judge all the ugly tables full of boring stuff like art paper or Christmas lights. Earlier tonight I kind of stuck my foot in my mouth when my manager told me we were going to redo a table in the back that was full of Christmas lights. I made some comment about it being ugly, and one of my co-workers said, "Thanks, I did that!" I immediately began to apologize profusely, but she said she really didn't care--one of the other managers told her to do it that way.

So there you have it- lots of changes in my little world.

Speculations about ceramics...

2006-07-05T21:24:00.000-07:00

Mondays are "Truck Days." This basically means the store is full of boxes full of stuff to be put away. So when I got to work on Monday the fabric department was overloaded with all kinds of ribbon and buttons and thread. One thing stuck out though--the male half of a wedding cake topper. Evidently the woman had run for the hills. We (me and my fellow fabric-cutters) decided the man must have been a bad kisser and the woman just couldn't face kissing him for the rest of her life. Our evidence- the couple was clearly in mid-kiss when she hit the road. They might have looked like this:

Side note--while looking for that image, I found a surprising number of cake toppers involving the bride, the groom, and multiple cats. Is that weird to anyone else? Are cats traditionally part of wedding ceremonies?

Something in the water...

2006-07-03T20:31:00.000-07:00

The other morning in the fabric section, I looked around and realized that every other person in the fabric section (all customers of course) was pregnant. I was the only one not great with child. Is that weird to anyone else?

The difference between the frugal and the cheap...

2006-07-03T20:16:00.000-07:00

Saturday was a strange day. I think I noted that before. But one lady made the day particularly memorable. She came to the register with four items in her hand. We are currently putting all kinds of things on sale so we can put up a million Christmas ornaments, so she had collected three of these four items from the aisles of things currently 80% off. She handed me the first item (a cheap basket) and asked me what the price was. I tried not to be too obvious when I turned the basket to the side and read the price to her. She then asked me a question I hear all the time: "Is that on sale?" I looked at the sales flier and said, "No." She then just looked at me. I followed up with, "Do you still want it?" "No." She said, in the kind of tone you use when people ask you silly questions. She put the basket to the side. I assumed she would hand me the remaining three items so I could ring them up. Well, you know what assuming does... She then handed me the next item. It was some cat figure with a messed up ear. The cat was two dollars. She asked me if it was on sale. I said, "Yes. It's marked as 80% off." She asked if there was a bigger discount because it was broken. I explained that by the time things are marked at 80% off, there's not a whole lot more we can take off. I asked her if she wanted this item and she said, "Not in that condition for that price." So that went with the basket. When the third of her four items was presented, can you guess what she asked? If you guessed, "Is this on sale?" You win. Of course this item was also in the clearance aisle so we had a brief conversation to refresh her memory. When the final item came into my possession and we discussed what was and was not on sale, I really thought it was possible that she would leave all four of these items with me and take nothing home. I was shocked when she actually wanted the item despite its full-price status. So there you have it--the longest checkout time for a single item.

On looking busy...

2006-07-01T18:17:00.000-07:00

Today was a big day for me. I normally am confined to the fabric department, but today we had so many people assigned to work in the fabric department that I got to get out for a while. I got the put up returns. This consists of pushing around a buggy full of stuff people don't want. I like this job because it allows me to cruise the entire store looking for places to put stuff. It's a bit like a reverse scavenger hunt. It also makes me look extremely busy and important. After I had emptied my cart, I thought about something. It seems likely that you could spend the entire day doing nothing but pushing around a shopping cart. You would look busy, so people would probably leave you alone and "let you work." In the pilot episode of Scrubs (my favorite show), Dr. Cox gives JD some advice about surviving in a hospital--he tells him that if you push around a "stiff" all day, people will leave you alone. I think a similar thing might be true at my store--if you push around enough random stuff all day, people pretty much leave you alone. So there you have it.

Oh the things you'll find...

2006-07-01T18:09:00.000-07:00

I am continually surprised by all the random things you can find at Hobby Lobby. Need a clock that looks like a giant steering wheel and has a John Deer tractor on it? We have that. Need a big piece of wallpaper that looks like a dog? We also have that. Today while I was putting up returns, I found out we have a whole aisle dedicated to chickens. How did I find this you might ask. I asked one of my fellow employees where I should put a dry erase board with a rooster on it. She responded, "Oh- that goes on the chicken aisle." So there you have it.

Who let the dogs out?

2006-06-28T08:59:00.000-07:00

The first week I was at work, I encountered 3 dogs in the store. And these weren't like strays that had entered the building--these were dogs being wheeled around in shopping carts by their owners. I found this very odd. I understand taking your dog to PetSmart or some other animal-centered place, but since when did it become acceptable to take your pet from store to store? I asked one of the other employees about the dogs, and she simply said, "Well some people just think their dogs are their kids." That may be true- but people normally aren't really allergic to babies are they?

Queen's Five-Year-Old Following...

2006-06-28T08:13:00.000-07:00

Of all the things I thought I would hear the other day at work, a Queen cover was not one of them. As I was walking by the floral section on my way to the front of the store, I passed a mom and her two boys. As I passed them, I heard one of the little boys singing. I expected to hear some little VBS song or something. Instead I heard, "You got mud on your face, you big disgrace..." and then I had passed them.

Irony...

2006-06-27T09:56:00.000-07:00

I think irony is hilarious (true irony that is- not the Alanis Morissette version). According to this really long website I found through Google (http://www.tnellen.com/cybereng/lit_terms/irony.html):

Irony is an implied discrepancy between what is said and what is meant.
Three kinds of irony:

1. verbal irony is when an author says one thing and means something else.
2. dramatic irony is when an audience perceives something that a character in the literature does not know.
3. irony of situation is a discrepancy between the expected result and actual results.

The other day I had a great experience with the third kind of irony. This older lady cashier I work with came back to the fabric department to purchase some random stuff. Nothing unusual happened until I looked at her shirt. It was an orange shirt she had decorated with the words "Bling Bling" written in neon-orange puff paint. Not what I expected from a little white lady.

Boredom and Unlimited Craft Supplies...

2006-06-27T09:44:00.000-07:00

Does anyone remember that movie where the girl lives in Walmart? Well you can't live in a craft store, but you can definitely keep yourself occupied for a while. Last week I was getting a little bored in the morning. It was early on a Saturday morning, and who really goes shopping for fabric at 9 AM? So after straightening my section and making sure all was in order, I began to look for things to do. Then it hit me--I have a whole bedroom in need of decorating. It was the perfect task. I had unlimited decorating resources at my disposal. I picked out the wooden letters I'm going to use and tried out about a million different potential ways to hang said letters on the wall. I also explored all the possibilities for recovering my rocker cushions. Around that time people actually started showing up, and the day was pretty busy from then on. But it's always nice to know I never have to worry about running out of things to do at work.

Contradictions abound...

2006-06-27T09:25:00.000-07:00

Humans are interesting creatures for many reasons. One of the most obvious is their ability to completely contradict themselves without even seeing it. Here's a good example:

A guy stomped into my department the other day looking for some kind of unfinished wood to use to fix his towel rack. I'm not really sure as to how the towel rack came out of the wall or why he couldn't just put it back up (random sidenote: when I was in fifth grade, a friend of mine was spending the night, and she tried to hang from the towel rack in my parents' bathroom, and the thing just ripped right out of the wall-to this day, my dad refers to her as the chimp-so my bet is on some kind of similar incident). Anyway- he brought me (please remember I work in the FABRIC department) a wooden object made for hanging towels or coats, etc. He, in his most annoyed tone, wanted to know if we had anything similar to that but without the pegs. I said, "You mean like a plain piece of wood?" He looked at me like I was crazy and replied, "No- it needs to be just like this, but without the pegs." I informed him that all our unfinished wood was on the aisle he had just been down, and I even called a manager just to make sure. I then suggested he try one of the home repair stores (after all- he was repairing something in his home). His response- he had already been there and they sent him to me. I think he was beginning to think we were conspiring against him. We weren't- I promise. Anyway- he made a few rude comments and huffed off as if I was personally responsible for his dilemma. (But hey- I wasn't the one swinging from his towel rack) The contradiction came when I noticed he was covered in Jesus gear. Yep- that's right- the rudest customer of my day was wearing a t-shirt from a Christian school and had an "I love Jesus" key chain hanging from his pocket. All I could think was, "Dude- if you are going to be a jerk, please don't make matters worse by plastering the Prince of Peace's name all over your actions."

I must say though, as quickly as I judged him, I also had to realize how often I am cranky or just flat-out rude to innocent people who are just in the middle of my frustration. Good wake-up call for me.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Car...

2006-06-27T09:14:00.000-07:00

We have somewhat of a ritual at the store. We all walk out of the store together and gather any random shopping carts before we leave. Maybe that isn't really a tradition, but it's what we do. Anyway- normally the only people around when we leave are employees and the occasional family member/friend picking someone up. This was not the case on Thursday night. As we walked out of the store, there were two cars parked next to the sidewalk. The people surrounding the cars were the most interesting part though--

- a teenage girl with a toddler
- a very pregnant young woman sitting on the hood of one of the cars
- a shirtless guy standing next to the pregnant woman
- and two random guys just kind of "hangin'"

This was strange enough (I mean who just hangs out in a craft store parking lot? maybe nerdy rebels?!?), but right before I got in my car, things got stranger. I saw the shirtless guy lick something in his hand and stick it to his chest. When I drove past them to get out of the parking lot I saw what it was--a Marlboro pack. Who sticks a pack of cigarettes to their chest?

English Nerds Unite

2006-06-27T08:57:00.000-07:00

So, in case you didn't know, I'm a bit of an English nerd. I try not to be too terribly anal about grammar issues (especially since I can't spell to save my life), but I do have one little pet peeve: people using adjectives when they should be using adverbs. The other day, I was straightening the fabrics (which is what we always do when there is nothing else to do), and I saw some cool new fabric with dragons on it. As I looked closer, I realized there were three kinds of fabric that all went together. One was fabric to make a kids' book (you know- like the cloth books we give to babies so they can drool on them?). Anyway, I started reading the story-- and that's when I saw it--the grammatically incorrect sentence in the middle of the children's book. How wrong is that? No wonder kids have such bad grammar. Anyway. Here's the sentence: And all the people in Lestertown were real happy. Argh!!! That's very wrong! Ok- that's the end of my nerdy rant. I will now return to non-nerdy Laurel.

Welcome back...

2006-06-27T08:37:00.000-07:00

Sorry I disappeared for a week. I was a bit overwhelmed with all that I had to get done. I was working at my job, co-directing a camp for young writers, and getting ready to move. My schedule looked a little like this:

7- get up and get ready for camp (probably including a mad dash to the store for last minute supplies)
8-3- camp
3-9 work
9-12- attempt to pack up my apartment (which basically consisted of staring at boxes and piles of stuff and hoping it all came together in a Mary Poppins kind of way)
12-7- sleep

7 the next morning- pray that the annoying noise I heard was not my alarm clock, but just a bad part of my dream. :)

All in all, it was busy, but I'm glad that I got to work with some kids that love to write, and I'm happy to report that all of my stuff did make its way into boxes (although not in a "spoonful of sugar" kind of way- very disappointing).

I'm back though, and I did write blogs for last week, I just didn't get them posted- so here they are. Hope you enjoy.

Guess this disease...

2006-06-17T20:01:00.000-07:00

I often overhear cell phone conversations. I'm sometimes amazed at the kinds of things people will discuss on cell phones in public places. Today's example: "Oh, Genie got that. It took her a year to get over that." So here's my question--what's "that"?

Self-importance=bad customer=moldy pennies

2006-06-15T21:38:00.000-07:00

Some of you may remember my post about pennies from a few days ago. Well- the fastest ways to get moldy pennies are listed below:

1. Talk loudly on your cell phone while standing in front of the register and never addressing the cashier. And, if you really want the gross pennies, talk to the cashier in "cell phone whisper/mouthing" (you know- the i'm-on-the-phone-but-have-to-tell-you-something-without-the-phone-conversation-being-interrupted style of conversing). I have a new approach to these people--i ignore the fact that they are on the phone- i ask to see their IDs in my regular voice, i give them their totals in a normal voice, etc.

2. Cut in line simply because you have a small order or you're in a rush (especially without sympathetically asking those in front if you can cut and really add to it by cutting in front of a sweet, old quilter).

3. Proclaim your Paris Hilton/Nicole Richie-esque importance by wandering around the store after 8 o'clock despite the multiple announcements about the store's closing and multiple reminders from store employees that we are closed. Add to this by giggling when you finally scurrying off as if it's cute to make people wait 15 minutes to start cleaning up. (after all- what could us hourly-waged workers have to do besides wait anyway?)

Translating Fabric chatting...

2006-06-14T13:11:00.000-07:00

Just a few words you should know if working at Hobby Lobby.

Evidently, the following pronunciations are acceptable when calling the fabric department:

Salary- "You know, the color of salary- like the crunchy stuff you eat with ranch dressing."

Com'ter- "Yeah- cause I got the pillow shams, I just need the com'ter."

So there you have it.

Fabric departments and the marketplace of ideas....

2006-06-13T21:23:00.000-07:00

I came to work and hit the ground running today. One family of people speaking a non-English language was looking for all sorts of fun fabrics involving sequins. To add to the mix, in came a Mennonite family (the father of this family asked the other family what language they were speaking—they said they were from Iraq—so I guess that’s Arabic?). I thought it might be interesting to watch the interactions.

I've noticed over my days in my department that there are a large number of non-native speakers that come through my aisles. I always found this strange because I don't exactly live in a large city. I always wondered what made them choose my town (not in a go-back-to-where-you-came-from kind of way--more of a of-all-the-places-you-could-go-you-chose-this-one? kind of way). The biggest mystery was how many of them were in my town. I figured the percentage of people that shop in my store must be low, so therefore, for every one that came my way, there must be many more that didn't cross my path. I began to rethink this equation today. It makes sense that people from foreign countries, with foreign traditions and foreign traditional clothing would have a hard time finding ready-made clothing for special events, etc. Therefore, a higher percentage of them would cross my path in the fabrics department--they are forced to make their own garments since they probably won't find traditional Indian clothing or a dress fit for a Puerta Rican Sweet 16 celebration.

I think the funniest thing was realizing that, in the fabric department, Mennonites and Iraqis have something in common. They both must make the clothes uniquely associated with their cultures. Neither group is really likely to find something suitable at the local American Eagle.

I also found both sets of customers merging their cultures with mainstream American culture. One of the daughters in the Mennonite family was wearing a homemade dress and a pair of Nike high-tops. The Iraqi family had an interesting way of using both Arabic and English words in their conversation without every having a break in the conversation. That’s all for now- this one may be continued later when I am feeling more creative.

I did it!

2006-06-12T19:58:00.001-07:00

I went an entire shift without screwing up on the register. It's kind of like a perfect game. I did manage to give a lady only 5 of the 6 yards of tulle she purchased though. Oh well--there's always tomorrow.

Emma wants new bows...

2006-06-11T20:49:00.000-07:00

So I love hearing people call kids innocent. So not the case!! I'm completely convinced kids are born with all the same motives as adults have. For example- wanting what you don't have. A woman came in the other day. She had a cute little girl (I assume her daughter) and a nice man (I assume her husband) with her. She had two different types of ribbon. She was trying to figure out how much she needed. She said she needed to make really big hairbows. I said that a yard normally is enough for a bow, but if she wants a really big one, it might take more. I asked her how big it needed to be. She then explained the whole story. She said Emma (the little girl) had plenty of perfectly nice hairbows, but, according to Emma, they weren't big enough. She wanted bigger ones like her classmate had. The mom said this little girl had huge hairbows- ridiculously big actually. For some reason, Emma wanted hairbows like that, not the ones she currently owned. So here was the mom, trying to figure out how much ribbon it would take to make Emma look like this other little girl. It's funny, because this little girl looked too small to have such determined opinions about something like the size of her hairbows. I think the funniest part was when the mom was leaving. She said, "Yeah- so we may have thought big bows were out, but I guess they're making a comeback." Who knew the latest hair fashions would start in a preschool?

Pennies...

2006-06-11T20:25:00.000-07:00

Just to let you know--when I get really bored at work, I become a little Monk-esque. The most obvious sign of this has to do with pennies. On days I am feeling especially passive-agressive and OCD, I give my customers their change according to how I like them. Now before you think I'm doing something illegal, I must clarify. I don't not give them their change, I just give them new shiny pennies or old dirty pennies depending on how nice they are to me. So--if you want the new shiny pennies instead of the gross, almost moldy pennies--be nice to your local fabric cutter.

Restoring my faith in kids...

2006-06-11T20:17:00.000-07:00

Working at Hobby Lobby can sometimes feel like birth control. Kids are constantly screaming or throwing fits. It's a bit ridiculous. But the other day I met a little boy that made me want to have my own kiddos some day. His name was Levi. He's two years old, and I found myself having a full-out conversation with the little guy. The best part of the night was when he told me his mother had a choo-choo in her belly. Evidently he went to the doctor with his mom and heard the sonogram. His parents didn't really know how to tell him about the little baby, so when he said the heartbeat sounded like a choo-choo they just went with it. That's all I have to say about that. How cute is that? And I'm not even one of those, "Oh look at the baby!" types.

When you really love your motorcycle...

2006-06-11T20:07:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been a while. I've been having trouble with my internet- but I think I'm back in business now. Anyway- this lady came in the other day, and I thought she looked like any other woman in my department...then something caught my eye. Her engagement ring was pretty standard, but her wedding band had a little something extra--a Harley Davidson sign.

Funniest part is that whenI went to find the image, I found out there was a whole website devoted to Harley Davidson wedding rings.

The power of a red pen...

2006-06-08T22:47:00.000-07:00

Following the price gun blog, I have yet another treasured possession of employees at everyone's favorite craft store--the red pen. Instead of the barcoded system of most places, we have very important ink colors. You can only use black ink on certain forms and only red ink in the ordering books. Also- if an item is discontinued, we mark through the price with a red pen (which confuses the snot out of customers since it looks like a lower price should be somewhere else on the package). All of this color specific stuff makes any non-black pen valuable. Trying to find a red pen can be like looking for a self-conscious person at a nudist colony. The other day one of my friends and co-workers gave me a red pen to fill something out. I think this was a true sign of friendship. So I did what any smart person would do--I used it, put it in my smock pocket and didn't tell anyone I had it. So there that is- you are the only ones to know that I have a red pen. Confused yet?

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a bolt of fabric

2006-06-08T22:34:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, I was tidying up my fabric department when I heard a thud followed by a series of thuds. I looked over at the wall that contains three shelves of fabric and found a whole section empty. On the floor was a pile of pink floral fabrics. I walked over and found a lady rubbing her head. Evidently the fabric had fallen on her head. I asked her if she was okay and she gave a hesitating, "yeah." She then told me she had once been hit in the head with a fan. I guess the puzzled look on my face encouraged her to continue. She said she was sitting at a play, and something came loose, and a fan fell on her head. Sixteen staples later, she was all back together. I think my favorite part of the story was when she said, "so now I tend to be a little more aware of things above me." I would say so. I think if I got hit in the head with a ceiling fan I would walk around with a helmet on my head.

Concealed Weapons...

2006-06-04T13:13:00.000-07:00

***I'm posting twice today since I was a slacker and missed two days this week***

My place of employment may be full of every kind of yarn you could want, but if you are looking for a price gun, you are out of luck. We have a certain number of price guns. Evidently we are one of the lucky stores because we have two more than most. Despite this surplus, each department still hoards guns. If you come to the fabric department looking for a price gun or a clearance gun (although this may sound like a different piece of equipment, it really is just a price gun filled with clearance tape instead of regular tape) there are one of two possible responses:

1. Yes- we have a gun, but you better return it or we'll hunt you down.

or

2. No- I don't know where one is.

The first one is the truth. We have 2 price guns stashed away in the department (but if I told you where they were I would have to...aw-you know the rest). We don't tell anyone where these guns are, because if we did, other workers would steal them and never return them. If we like you, you get answer #1. If we don't like you, don't trust you, or fear you might take the gun for good, we lie to you. So there you go- the highest commodity in my store is not the lamps and other home accents, oh no- it's the price guns.

Multi-generational mullets

2006-06-04T12:55:00.000-07:00

Yep. You read it! Although I'm not really sure it is MULTI-generational because there were just 2 generations. I would be willing to bet that there's a grandfather somewhere...anyway- I should probably explain. I think I mentioned the other day that I see a large number of kids at Hobby Lobby. Despite the constant stream of kids of all shapes and sizes, I was not prepared to see a family of mullets. There were 7 people in the family. The mom and 2 daughters and one of the sons had perfectly normal haircuts. The father and 2 young sons were sporting the ever-dreaded mullet. And these were no minor mullets. We're talking hair MUCH longer than mine with a mullet front. It got me thinking--is it really fair to make your children sport such a definitive haircut at such a young age? Given I'm sure I sported plenty of really bad haircuts in my childhood (some self-inflicted with my bright orange fish scissors), but a mullet just seems cruel. Anyway-I ended up chatting with the mother of the bunch and she informed me the family was making baskets for some Cherokee thing in Kentucky. I instantly got "Indian Outlaw" by Tim McGraw stuck in my head and spent the rest of the day humming the chorus of, "I'm an Indian outlaw/half Cherokee and Choctaw..." No fun for anyone around me. I think the kicker for the day was when the little boys were running as the family left the fabric section and I heard the mother say, "You better not do that because if you break something at this store, they break your legs!"

The Perks of Being A Fabric Cutter

2006-06-01T20:18:00.000-07:00

One of the most unexpected parts of my job is the huge number of times I get to watch the interactions between parents and kids. You wouldn't think it, but my place of employment is full of kids--and to be honest--it's not exactly a kid's dream to spend his/her time walking through aisles of ribbon and thread. This leads to kids attempting to amuse themselves and those around them. All too often, these forms of amusement lead to threats and evil eyes by the parental units.

The other day I had a kid hiding behind my checkout counter and then he darted off to hide behind a big display of pottery stuff. Watching this kid try to get his parents' attention got me thinking. I often hear people make references to teenagers and kids alike that insinuate that kids and teenagers think drastically differently from adults. After 25 years of people watching, I must disagree. Although teenagers and kids may act differently than adults, I think the motives for actions never really change. This little kid wanted his parents' attention, so he played a one-sided game of hide-and-seek. Adults have the same, "Look at me! Look at me!" motive, they just display it differently. They tell stories about the cool things they've done ("The last game of the season, during the final seconds..., etc.) or they do nifty tricks, or they wear clothing that draws attention to the right places--whatever it takes to make sure they get the attention they want. I think I'll spend a large amount of the rest of the summer people watching for more proof of my theory...but I'm pretty sure I'm right.

Billy Jean....

2006-05-31T20:44:00.000-07:00

is not my lover. She's just a girl...who thinks that I am the one...

I bought a greatest hits Micheal Jackson CD the other day. Every since then, I've been rocking out to Billy Jean and The Way You Make Me Feel and Beat It and all the classics. I rock out on my way to work, and it puts me in a great mood for helping people select just the right shade of green thread to go with that fabric for their couch cushions. I've noticed that I've been humming, and I'll admit it, flat out singing, Billy Jean for the last 3 days. I think people are starting to look at me funny.

All this singing of Billy Jean has got me thinking. Did Micheal just dance with this girl, or was there more. Was there any sort of paternity test to prove it wasn't his kid? He does say the eyes look like his? I'm still not sure about all of this.

Tired Laurel and Pizza

2006-05-31T20:42:00.000-07:00

*****I tried to post this yesterday, but my internet would have none of it. So here it is.
When I first started this blog, I thought I might run out of things to blog about. I now know there is no way that will happen. I am so tired that yesterday I actually cried when I went into the breakroom and there was no cheese pizza. Now this may seem strange without the back story. I mean- who expects pizza? Here's the deal:

Since yesterday was Memorial Day, my nice bosses at Hobby Lobby decided to treat us to pizza for lunch. There are a few factors that made this such a big deal:

1. I LOVE pizza.
2. I didn't eat breakfast and was working a nine hour shift.
3. I had been working on my thesis all weekend and was really sleep deprived.

When it was my turn to go to lunch, after having a bit of a tricky morning, I was really looking forward to some yummy cheese pizza. I went into the breakroom (which has mysteriously smelled strongly of men's cologne for the past few days?!?) and asked if there was any cheese left. I was informed that they hadn't ordered any cheese. I then replied that that sucked because I'm a vegetarian. My co-workers then recommended I just take the meat off. They quickly realized that defeated the whole "not eating meat plan." I think on any other day I would have been fine. After being a vegetarian for 6 years, you kind of get used to being left out of the food count. But on this day Everyday Laurel was no where to be found. She had been relplaced by Tired Laurel, and this was more than Tired Laurel could take.

First I should introduce you to Tired Laurel. Tired Laurel is a lot like 4-year-old Laurel. She drags her feet and has a sad and confused look on her face. She often draws out phrases like "I'm so tired." and "Is it time to go home yet?" She really just wants to be taken home and fed a steady diet of cheetos and grape koolaid. Tired Laurel is really no fun to be around. Ah, but I digress. On any other day, I would have just plopped down and eaten some Dorritos from the vending machine, but today I even surprised myself. I did something I rarely do and DEFINITELY never let other people see: I cried. That's right. I cried. Luckily I made it to the car before I cried. But there were definitely tears running down my face. Everyday Laurel doesn't cry over pizza. Just Tired Laurel.

So the lesson of the story: If you see signs of Tired Laurel, RUN. Don't try to reason with her, don't try to make her feel better, and whatever you do, don't forget to order her some cheese pizza.

Happy Feet

2006-05-29T21:39:00.000-07:00

So I did something smart, yet expensive. I finally broke down and bought some good shoes. I went into the New Balance store in Green Hills and informed the (cute) guy working there that I stood all day and needed some good shoes. My current selections made me feel a bit like Goldilocks. I tried all the shoes I had, but none of them left my feet happy. So I wore my new shoes today, and I must say, my feet are MUCH happier. My new shoes look like this:

I hope that works. I've never inserted an image before. I'm getting all fancy now. :) Anyway- I also feel like I should clarify. I don't want people to think I hate my job. I don't. I'm really glad to have a job that allows me to be off on Sundays and allows me to work with fun people, etc. I think I just sometimes get amused by the way the corporate world works when it comes down to a specific store. I hope that makes sense. Well- I have to go to bed because I have a high school teaching job interview tomorrow. Yippee! Wish me luck.

A Straight Man in the Fabric Department

2006-05-27T09:25:00.000-07:00

I remember reading an article in Seventeen Magazine when I was in high school. The article was about scoring the perfect summer job. The author warned his/her young readers to avoid jobs that wouldn't attract "hotties" (Baby Gap, Victoria's Secret, etc.). I laughed on my second day of work about how there was no risk of running into "hotties" at my job. This gives me such freedom to roll out of bed, take a quick shower and just throw something on. I don't have to worry about looking hot because all the men that come into my area are either not really interested in my kind of anatomy or are attached to a woman looking for bridal ribbon or some other wedding-related item.

Well-I am happy to report that a straight man did cross my path. This isn't really exciting from a dating standpoint because I think he was still in high school, but it is exciting because I now know that sometimes, straight men do need fabric.

So now for the big question--what does a straight man go to the fabric department for? Cheese cloth. Yep--he was waxing his car and the bottle of wax said he should use cheese cloth. There you have it. Have a great Saturday.

21 days makes a habit?!?

2006-05-26T08:02:00.000-07:00

So I'm really trying to stay committed to this. I'm on day three. :) I haven't been to work today so I don't have a "here's what happened today" story. I do have a random observation though. I must confess that I've never read Brave New World. I know, I know, this makes me a bad English major and a bad hippy, but oh well. I do own a copy though, and as soon as my thesis is no longer haunting me, I'll read the book, I promise. Anyway- I did watch the made-for-TV movie a LONG time ago. I remember there being this outsider character (according to Spark Notes, his name is John), like the only living creature not in the distopia. And since he was an outsider he could see the insanity of the community. As one of the newest Hobby Lobby employees, I sometimes feel like John. For example, every time I do something wrong on the register after I've already hit taxable, I have to cancel the whole thing and call a manager "for an overring." This basically means that one of my managers must come to my register and give me a slip of paper that I have to fill out and attach the receipt to. I'm ok with this (after a few weeks of thinking "what in the world..."), but the other night I thought, "Am I the only one whe thinks this is nuts?" when I was indirectly scolded for having used blue ink on the form instead of black and for having marked something out on the form. Both of these rules seem petty to me. The weirdest part though, was that the manager at the time said these things to me as if anyone would know those rules. Why would anyone just know that you must use black ink and you must not mark it out? I may think she's nuts, but, knowing me and my ability to ask where the bathroom is while standing right in front of it, it probably states both of those rules somewhere on the form. I'll look today when I screw something up and report back. That's all for now.

Technology and Hobby Lobby

2006-05-25T09:15:00.000-07:00

One of the strange things about my place of employment is the lack of technology. There may be a computer hiding out somewhere in the "office," but there sure as heck aren't any on the floor. That means the following:
1. everything is priced by hand with a price gun
2. everything at the cash register is rung up by hand according to said price gun stickers
3. if something doesn't have a price, someone in that "department" has to go either find the price on another item or look it up in the book.
4. this book i speak of is simply an REALLY long computer list put in a binder-type thing. this means the department person that was paged has to look through hundreds of pages to find the item and get the price
5. the department heads must use this book to order every week. they walk around with the book and find out what is out and order accordingly
5. the only way we know what's on sale is by looking at the weekly sales flyer and the item in question to see if they match

all of this leads to some funny conversations. my personal favorite is when someone asks me to scan something to find out the price or to see if it is on sale. when they ask about price, i normally just turn the item over. i feel kind of bad about this since it's kind of like stating the obvious, but you do what you have to do.

the other day a man came up to me with a garland and asked me if it was on sale. i knew it wasn't because garlands were on sale the week before and things are rarely on sale two weeks in row. i looked at the sales flyer, and sure enough, it wasn't on sale. i politely informed the man that the item was not on sale. he came back with a logical point, "but it was right by a sign that said half off." i went to look at the sign that said half off, and it was there, but it said half off flowering bushes. now only a trained hobby lobby sales associate like myself knows what the crap that is. anyway- i pointed to the sign and explained, but he still wanted me to scan it, "just to make sure." i understand why he asked. every store in the country has a scanner. heck- at borders the computers will even tell you which aisle it's on. but if you look around my station, you will see no signs of a computer. my boss and i were discussing the situation later and laughing. she said, "i'm always tempted to look at the item, make a scanning noise, and then hand it back and say, 'i scanned it. not on sale!'"

so there you have it. not a very exciting blog, but i am trying to keep up my daily self-imposed rule. bye.

My new career...

2006-05-24T20:28:00.000-07:00

So I decided that the best way to make lemonade out of my new job at Hobby Lobby would be to blog about the daily happennings. I have high hopes of posting daily, but I have to be somewhat realistic and realize the chances of that happening are slim to none. Either way- stay tuned.