for whom the cash register tolls

i’ve worked in retail for almost 20 years.  most of that experience has been in a small business setting, except for my 7 year stint at Big Book Retailer when i lived in a different geographical region.  i have never understood the pull of Black Friday.  when i DID work for Book Retailer, i’d shake my head at the people lined up at the reasonable 8am opening.  i was making a traditional low wage in Corporate Retail, but fortunate enough to have affordable medical benefits & a 401K if i chose that route.

a few years ago i saw this documentary about a certain Big Box Retailer and it changed my mind about how i shop.  it’s really hard to make a living on $9.00 an hour or a annual GROSS of $18,720. and that’s based on a 40 hour work week, considered “full time” in America’s standards. and don’t forget to deduct taxes.  or health care, you know, if you need it.  and the fact that this retailer uses sweatshops with saddening & horrifying conditions just to Roll Back Prices and give you a can’t-pass-up-deal.  yeppers, at the expense of other human beings (including children)

Median Hourly Rate by Years Experience – Employer: Wal-Mart Stores, Inc (United States)

CAREER TOOLS: Salary Calculator, Career Path Tool, Cost of Living Calculator, Meeting Miser

 

when i heard yesterday that a worker was trampled to death & several other people hurt, spurned by the vision of High Definition Sugarplums dancing about in their heads, i was sick.  simply sick.  a human being, probably making less than $10 an hour, was killed.  think about that.

not to mention that Megastores like this, with their soul-less atmosphere, corporate policies and by-rote, shoddy at best “customer service”, stomp downtown America, where in this economy, small business owners are struggling hard just to keep their workers employed & their doors open. for the small business owner right now, its not about making a profit, its about surviving.

i’m going to get off my soapbox now.  but i will beg you one thing before i do: please, please shop locally this holiday season.  support your local small business owners.  foster community spirit.  and if you must shop Big Box, please do so responsibly.  people’s lives & livelihoods depend on it.

for more information on the ahem, “alleged” unethical practices of this retailer, click here.

because everyone needs a mantra

the incomparable Lisa V left a comment a few posts down regarding our Towel Toss on the TTC front:

There is something incredibly empowering about taking control of your own destiny and choosing a path, rather than letting the path choose you.

to be honest, i hadn’t thought of it this way.  and i had to mull it over for a few weeks.  and she is right, that Lisa.  smart woman.

don’t get me wrong, i spent this morning at work sobbing. however.  when i put on my figurative Big Girl Pants and pulled myself together, something came to me:

screw you, infertility.

actually, it was a little more on the abrasive side, but you get the gist.  

because what makes a family?  do kids make a family?  as far as i’m concerned, chris and i (and Porkchop) are a family.  our own little unit.  our friends are our family.  we have siblings, parents.  so what if we don’t have kids?

maybe i’m just angry, maybe i’ve turned a new corner.  in either case, i feel like i’m getting somewhere other than just simmering in sadness.  it’s a comfortable spot, and i’m really good at it.

knock knock

who’s there?

infertility!

kiss my ass, infertility. i don’t want what you’re selling today.

so. freakin’. busy.

i had a post written and sitting in the draft bin about how, in a perfect world, i should be embracing new motherhood right about now.  but it seemed…wrong & boring. and depressing.  so here’s the skinny about what’s going on.

1) okay.  who flipped the “winter” switch?  hmmm?  from summer to winter in the span of two weeks?

2) things are motoring along in biscotti-land.  we did a local Harvest Festival last weekend for the second year, with great sales & amazing feedback.  here’s a lovely picture of Chris, freezing his butt off by the tent.

also in the Biz vein, we’ve been asked to join a co-op that just starting here in town for the next two months.  it’s very last minute, but will give us more exposure & a destination.  combine that with the other places in town that carry our product, we’re anticipating the holidays to be rockin’.  so that’s good news.

3) no, i haven’t gotten the website up.  yeah, i suck.

4) Porkchop had her “annual” at the vet.  we have to sedate her, because she really is a hellcat at the drs.  it brings me a lot of guilt, yes, but after spending $80 a few years ago on an office visit that couldn’t be done because she was such a…problem… she has wised up to our ways, though, and actually ate AROUND the pill, ingesting about 1/3 of the sedative.  which was fine, until it started wearing off while we were in the exam room, waiting for the vet who was dealing with an emergency.  she ended up muzzled, and peeing on the table (that’s my girl!)  so here’s Chop, getting her senses back.

5) i haven’t had time to spend in internet-land, which is weird.  and let me say how much i hate how flickr changed their home page for users.  very similar to faceb**k, and i was caught unaware… to be fair, i don’t handle unexpected change well.

6) Go Phillies!  at the Cocoon, we’re superexcited the Phillies have made the Series.  and we’ll be listening via radio… let’s break the cycle!

thanks for reading, all 10 of you!

Towel Toss

its now official.  i’m going back on birth control (as a strictly precautionary measure).

we started officially trying in November of last year, and quite frankly, i can’t take the “trying” anymore.  its wreaking havoc on several facets of my life, but mainly my emotional well being.  

Chris & i have had many long talks about it in the past few months.  are we disappointed?  sure.  am i sad? you betcha.  but i’ll live.  we both will.  i researched and read and talked to people and researched some more.  i knew i didn’t want to do fertility treatments, we didn’t need to know which one of us isn’t “working” properly.

did it break my heart a little when i deleted the private baby-stuff- only wishlist from amazon?  yup. so i’ll never have a supercool kiddo in an outfit like this.  i’ll get over it, eventually.

but i’m very realistic in daily life and my abilities.  and i can’t pursue this dream any further.  but i can sleep well tonight, knowing i don’t have to chart anything tomorrow.  and i can throw out the nasty prenatal vitamins i’ve been taking for months.  and i can stop spending $12.82 a month on tests that only come up with one line.

and tomorrow, i’m having two coffees.  watch me go.

what i’m doing on my late summer vacation…

it’s true, i’m technically “on vacation”.  i’ve been wondering about this “vacation” word, and what it means.  but i won’t digress, i don’t have time.

presently, i’m a cleaning, organizing fool.  because our bedroom is only big enough for, well, our bed & one bookshelf, the spare bedroom is actually where our dressers live.  and everything else we don’t deal with. and it doesn’t have a closet.  our actual bedroom has a tiny, “built out” closet made from plywood.  there are approximately 12 rubbermaid tubs lining the walls of the “dressing room”/”horrible room”, most of which i haven’t touched since we moved in.  so i’m going through them today, throwing things out, and packing them up for the storage unit.

if you listen closely, you can hear me singing out of tune (as if there was any other way for me) “just throw it ouuuuuuuut” to the tune of Oasis’ “go let it out”.  that belt i snagged from my first husband when i left him?  uh, its been falling apart for years.  i’ve stopped wearing it.  adios belt!  that stretchy, faded maroon cotton skirt that my first live-in boyfriend put in with the whites, rendering everything pink (including his work shirts)?  i found it at the bottom of a trash bag, from when we moved.  its now actually in the trash. its been that kind of morning.

and then i came across the Dream Dress, which i’ll write about later on today.  the Dream Dress hasn’t fit me since spring 1997, but i’ve been carrying it around with me.  for reasons i’ll later describe, i hung it back in the closet.  because every woman should be able to hold onto something silly like the Dream Dress.

tomorrow i pick up Quickbooks 2008, that a friend bought for me at a Discount Superstore.  i’ll be spending Friday setting it up.  if you faintly hear swearing, crying & teeth gnashing, it’s just me.  don’t worry.

Sat & Sun are OITO reserved.  i’ve got to get that site up.

but tomorrow is my actual “vacation day”.  weather hopefully in my favor, i’ll be out taking photos for most of the morning, drinking ridiculous amounts of coffee & reading.

wish me godspeed as i head back to the horrible room.  who knows what (literal) unearthly treasures i’ll uncover.

waitin’ on Hanna

i live on a barrier island in south, south Jersey.  about once a year, a tropical storm/hurricane comes our way.  the last one we saw was Ernesto, two years ago.  i’ve only evacuated once, and that was in 1985 when Hurricane Gloria came barreling her way up the coast, slamming America’s Oldest Seaside Resort, leaving a section of town locally called “frog hollow” under 2-3 feet of water.

presently, we live 1/2 a block from the back bay and 3 blocks from the ocean.  and the island itself is flat.  like, we’re 9 ft above sea level, which is NOTHING.  so throw in a high tide, current swells & some winds above 50mph… and we’re in floodland.  even in a thunderstorm or slightly powerful wind, we lose power.

there are three ways off the island.  the main route out, taking the causeway, floods at the base of the island for blocks during a heavy downpour, rendering it impassable.  the route we normally take for work has marsh on both sides, and often floods with a unusually large high tide (think full moon).  the third route, at the other end of the island is below sea level.  suffice to say, we’ve been trying to decide what to do if/when Hanna shows herself.  she’ll probably just dump some rain and blow us some wind ala the Three Little Pigs.  fortunately, its a quick moving storm.

but i’m about to go outside & secure all the Loud Families summer detritus (bikes, beach paraphernalia, etc) just in case. and we’ve got masking tape at the ready for quick window securing.  

i’ve got my blackberry charged, so i’ll be updating via twitter should she come a-rocking & rolling this way.  if any of you are east coast dwellers, be safe!

and to see what else is going on this weekend here on the island click here.  its an annual thing, very noisy, but the bikers are generally pretty cool.

08.28.08

met in 9th grade. instant friends. 20 years of laughter & bottomless pots of coffee.  it’s our second wedding anniversary today.  and we don’t have to work.  happiness is.

me vs. the Pepe Family

i started taking photos this morning around 3am.

around 5:30, i headed down to the beach to get myself set up for some (hopefully) awesome sunrise opportunities.  as i meandered down the beach in almost total darkness, i saw a dog.  a cream colored, floppy eared dog about 6 feet away.

“hey pretty, what are you doing out all by your lonesome?” i questioned the snuffling creature.

it responded with a bark of sorts and my eyes focused more clearly in the night.

no dog.  SKUNK.

i walked away slowly, heading north on the beach, toward more open spaces, figuring i would sit for a few minutes on the steps by the Convention Hall, about 3 blocks away.  while the skies turned a faint blue on the horizon, i made my way up the beach and toward the steps, only to be met by a trio of barking, snuffling skunks, making an unholy mess of the trashcans next to the steps.

i was trapped in the dawning of a new day by these little beasties, discovering, much to my dismay that my batteries were on their last legs and i’d forgotten to buy backups for my camera bag.  when the sun had risen enough for me to safely exit the beach, i hoofed it to the restaurant in stitches to tell Chris how much of a nature girl i am NOT.  he agreed.

serious olfactory crisis averted.

i think i’m out, and they keep dragging me back

hi, my name is Barb, and i’m a pop culture junkie.  it’s true.

lately, i’ve been spending a disgusting amount of time on VH1Classic.  we were one of the first houses on the block to have cable, including the brand spanking new MTV, which played about 30 videos.  as a kid & teenager, i watched a helluva lot of MTV, as the only radio stations in this area were top 40 & adult soft rock.

so i’ve been reliving my musical youth, currently digging a very young, fierce Janet Jackson asking the eternal question “what have you done for me lately?”.  i think i knew that dance by heart.  i couldn’t wait until i was old enough to hang in diners and break into spontaneous dance sequences. while i’ve spent my fair share of time in diners, i’m still waiting on the latter.  seriously.

and even though its not on vh1 classic, i’m leaving you with this, because this was a similar goal.  young adult angst coupled with some torn, gypsy-like new wave clothes, a sinister pimp-like dude in a white suit, cool looking friends and, you guessed it, dancing in order to drive a point home.  when i was 11, i would have said “sign me UP”.

drooling idiot

living in a seaside resort town has its ups & downs, and by August, its definitely on the downside. the shine of the summer season has worn off, locals are more short tempered due to traffic, parking, general “i’m not from around here” idiocy (i.e. “i don’t have to follow the rules of the road because i’m from _____”). oh, and the fact that some morning show several years ago ran a spot about “bargain hunting”, that included haggling at seashore/”seasonal” places, because “they’ll be closing in a few weeks and will be happy just to make a sale”. i could write a whole post on that. i swear there is more fallout from that show has caused more grief & distress than you’d care to know for the small business shopkeeper. in addition, folks who vacation here at the end of August are generally a different breed altogether.

almost everyone i know works 2 (or sometimes 3) jobs for a handful of months to make enough money to make it through the winter and unemployment (also known as Unenjoyment). we’re tired, crabby and haven’t seen our friends/family in months (i don’t count leaving notes as communication for months or running into each other at the coffeeshop between shifts as hanging out). let alone go to the beach.

one of the good points, however, is local bonding over these things, and the repeated phrase that begins on 8/1: IT’S AUGUST. we all understand it, and it encompasses any number of grumbles. today’s example: me.

because some jackass (uh, me) set up the tables on a noticeable incline at the Farmer’s Market yesterday, my legs, shins & ankles are killing me this morning. no, scratch that. my whole body hurts. i overslept my alarm by an hour, but i’m so tired i didn’t even care. at the convenience store of my dreams, with the customer associate of my dreams, i clumsily placed my daily muffin & coffee on the counter this morning, and couldn’t quite verbalize the fact that i needed cigarettes as well. this is what came out of my mouth:

“Ecccck”

Jimmy, my favorite overnight guy at the WaWa, tilted his head at me, pulled down my camel lights from the stock overhead and said “well, that’s telling. hey, it’s august”. that it is, Jimmy. that it is.

apologies extended for ranting, ridiculous grammar.