Idaho

Just got back from a 24 hour road trip to Boise, Idaho and it was a true delight. Due to the fact that the Walla Walla airport couldn’t convince enough people to take a direct flight to Boise on a daily basis, me and Lo (my new car) had to drive it. I had my reservations about making the 4 and a half hour journey because the last time I drove to Idaho I was pretty certain I was about to meet my maker. This was back in 2005 when my friends Heather, Michael, Meagan and I had all planned a Christmas road trip. The plan was to all meet in Nampa, Idaho where Meagan’s family lived and from there head to McCall to hit the ski slopes at Brundage Mountain Resort. This was the Christmas where I worked at Klicker’s Fruit Stand selling Christmas trees so I had to join the gang a few days later. Fortunately, at that time there actually was a flight from Walla Walla to Boise. Unfortunately, Walla Walla is in a constant state of fog during the winter, so of course my flight got cancelled. This upset me because I was really looking forward to the some mile high free time. I had just bought Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and was looking forward to hopping on the Hogwarts bandwagon. And if you know me at all you’ll know that it takes a Christmas miracle/ a stack of Bernstein Bear books to get me excited about reading so time was of the essence. Due to events out of my control I never had a chance to read the book, but I did see the movie. Which is basically the same thing, right??

With the cancelled flight I was left with no choice but to drive to Idaho, which my parents were not at all thrilled to hear. I was a lot more fearless when it came to winter driving back in those days. I attribute this to the fact that it occurred before the Christmas Break of ‘06 near death experience. It all went down a little bit outside of Ellensburg, WA on my way back to Seattle. Snow was coming down like crazy and the roads were incredibly slippy and nearly every five minutes you passed a car stuck in a snow bank. So there I was, driving Burt, just minding my own business. I was going through a huge Kelly Clarkson phase at the time and I remember I was belting “A Moment Like This” at the top of my lungs. Talk about ironic. All of sudden a big ol’ semi came out of nowhere so I decided to quickly but carefully change lanes, which would have been fine if there hadn’t been a patch of black ice that sent me and Burt spinning into a 360 before hitting the snow bank. Luckily I had spun to the left otherwise I would have crashed right into the semi truck. BTW, thanks God for throwing me a bone that day. Its been a real treat to go on living.

This past Monday I was all packed and ready to hit the open road but I had a feeling that I was beginning to battle a cold so I had to act fast. Over my dead body was I going to be sick on vacation. NOT TODAY ZURG!!!! NOT TODAY!!!! Thank the good Lord my parents had a stash of Airborne in my favorite flavor, key lime -- so I chugged that the whole way to Boise. Downside to that was the fact that I have the bladder of an 80-year-old man, thus I felt the urge to pee almost every half hour. As fate would have it, it quickly became apparent that Oregon and Idaho had a limited budget that allowed them to place rest areas about 50 miles apart. I’ll admit it. There were some close calls. And when I say close calls I mean my fly was down and I was reaching for my empty Wendy’s value menu cup to take care of business before my bladder exploded. At that very moment an angel appeared and placed a sign on the side of the road that read “Rest Area 2 Miles”. It was a total God thing.

This drive to Boise turned out to be quite the contrast compared to the drive of ‘05. This time the sun was shining in place of snow that my wipers could barely keep up with. If you’ve every attempted to drive up Cabbage Hill during the winter you know how bad it can get. It’s an incredibly steep incline and there are emergency exits every half-mile for semi trucks who aren’t able to stop. SCARY!! Oh and then to top it off, the whole drive up the hill you keep seeing signs for the exit called “Dead Man’s Pass”. Yeah, real comforting. What I want to know is who the hell thought that would be a good name for a highway? Who in their right mind would take it???? Another big help on this trip was my GPS. How I managed to arrive to any destination before getting this piece of technology I’ll never know. On the trip to Nampa, in place of a GPS I had about 10 pages of MapQuest instructions on how to get to Meagan’s house. They weren’t much help and I ended up getting majorly lost out on some backcountry road called Chicken Dinner Lane (I swear Idaho has the strangest street names) with the only landmark being a farm that raised Buffalo. Seriously, only in Idaho.

But despite the risk factors and ever-looming thoughts of death, road trips to Idaho have always resulted in nothing but fond memories such as:

· Watching my friend Michael get got off of a chair lift for the first time and while doing so knocking down two elderly woman. The best part was he hadn’t learned how to stop on skis so he couldn’t even get a chance to apologize.

· Going to Denny’s for breakfast and being served by a lady named Peaches who looked like she had been trapped inside a tanning bed for the past 30 years.

· Visiting Michael’s grandparents home in Fruitvale where Heather, while in the middle of taking a tinkle, was slightly alarmed to find a dog in the bathtub staring her down.

· Watching almost the entire second season of the OC with Meagan as Heather and Michael put a puzzle together. I know, I know, some people just don’t have their priorities straight.

· Attempting to make virgin pina coladas during the 3 hours it took to cook lasagna that was harder than a frozen tundra. Worst idea ever.

· Playing apples to apples and someone putting down Oprah, for the card Blank is the new Black. I nearly died laughing.

This weeks trip was no exception to fond memories as I got to spend nearly 24 hours with my dear friend Jess Miller who was on her spring break from the college where she works. We painted that town of Boise red, figuratively speaking. First we caught up on life at Rembrandt’s coffee before indulging in some retail therapy at the Macy’s clearance rack. I found a sexy new black polo for my next night on the town and Jess found a cute 60’s checkered dress. Meeeeeoooow. After shopping we saw the movie Tangled for 3 bucks, which was AMAZING. We laughed. We cried. Well…… at least I cried. Jess is so much stronger than I. Let me tell ya, there’s nothing like a Disney Princess in distress to turn on the ol’ waterworks. After that we grabbed dessert with our old friends Meagan and her husband Levi before taking in some local “night life”, if you could call it that, in downtown Boise. The night ended with us indulging in the guilty pleasure known as the season finale to “The Bachelor”. SO MUCH DRAMA. SO MUCH WATER PROOF MASQUERA. I was eating it up with a spoon.

The Rest is Still Unwritten

This blog post is dedicated to Robbie Williams who saved me from my snowed in predicament earlier today and took me on a much needed coffee run. You are a lifesaver and a gentleman.

Well this day certainly hasn’t turned out as planned. Woke up in the morning, feeling like P Diddy, without power, and literally snowed in at the house in Sisters, Oregon. Or I guess my car was snowed in. At first I figured the 5 inches of snow wouldn’t be a big deal but as I attempted to hit the open road my car got stuck before it had even left the driveway. The fact that the snow was deeper than the lowest point of my car didn’t really help the situation. After spending 30 minutes digging out the car and returning it to the garage I had built up quite the appetite. I opted for a cup of drip coffee and a peach Activia Yogurt that expired on January 29 because it was the only thing left in the house that was edible. That is, aside from a single slice of salami and some month old grapes that at this point could have qualified as raisins. As I impatiently waited for the snowplow man to make a visit to South Redwood Street, I figured I should seize the day and channel my emotions into a blog. I mean Jack Kerouac would have killed to be in this situation. Home that resembles a cabin in that it is made mainly of wood and is covered in black bear and moose decorations? No electricity? Far away from the lights of the city? Snowed in? His only complaint may have been the fact that the only alcoholic beverage in the house was a half bottle of cherry Nyquil.

Randomly, or as Jess Miller would correct me and insert the word IRONICLY, my friend Robbie just happened to be hanging out in the Sisters area for the morning and offered to pick me up and go grab some coffee. After a short jog to his car that was on road that was actually plowed, I got to spend a delightful half hour at the Sister’s Coffee House catching up on life. It was a nice distraction from the ever looming question of “HOW THE HELL AM I GONNA GET HOME AND HOW WILL MACY’S SURVIVE IF I’M NOT ABLE TO MAN THE ACCESSORIES COUNTER TOMMORROW??” Robbie had just driven me back to my development when I spotted it. The answer to all of my problems. THE SNOW PLOW. Running as fast as my little legs could carry me I approached the man in the plow and between large gasps of air and asthmatic wheezes I was able to somehow articulate that I needed his help. He said it was no problem and began work immediately. Then came of the challenge of getting my car out of the garage. Seeing as the power was out I had to do the whole damn thing manually and of course the garage door behind my car was jammed and not opening which left me with the other door as the only exit. I don’t know if any of you have ever tried maneuvering a car around in a two-door garage with a divider in the center but let me tell ya, IT AIN’T EASY. I basically had to rearrange the entire garage to allow for my ninja like maneuvers and after several minutes of multiple crazy moves and even more really really loud exclamations of four letter words I was free and homeward bound.

To put it lightly, the past 48 hours have been a whole lotta crazy. First off, as many of you know I sold Burt. I hated to do it but all good things must come to an end and at 130,000 miles he was having trouble keeping up with my fast paced A-List lifestyle. I put up a Craigslist ad and within a few hours a man named Mike had called and said he wanted to have a look at Burt. Now I had never sold anything online before and I had some reservations about meeting with a complete stranger so I told him to meet me near the duck pond at Pioneer Park. I figured someone would see or hear my screams if he did in fact turn out to be the next Craigslist killer. I called Mama Sesser to notify her as to my whereabouts and assured her that if I ended up missing that she should dredge the pond for my body but not to plan for an open casket funeral. As a precaution, mama also decided to take on the roll of undercover cop by circling the perimeter of the park as Mike and I went on a test drive. At one point we drove past her but we played it cool and didn’t acknowledge each other’s existence. I didn’t want to blow her cover. Mike and his wife loved the car, and especially their Labradoodle who also came along for the ride. They made an offer and even threw in a bottle of wine so it was pretty hard to refuse. I will admit that I shed a few tears on my way to drop Burt off at his new home and it was slightly concerning how attached I had become to an inanimate object during our ten years together. And Burt, if you’re reading this, don’t you ever for a second get to thinking you’re replaceable.

Fairly soon after selling Burt, I located a car that I REALLY wanted. It was a blue Toyota Matrix located right outside of Monterey, California. My mom had talked to a salesman named Ray when we had first inquired about the car. Ray had also notified my mom that he would be gone for the weekend and said that he would pass our information off to Kent if we decided to come down on Sunday. When I called Friday a salesman named Sal answered and I asked to speak with Kent but Sal said that he could take care of the sale. BAD DECISION. He told me the car was available for us to check out so I booked flights for a little father son trip down to California. That’s when the poop hit the fan. Right as I stepped onto the Butts Acura (yep its really called BUTTS) parking lot I came face to face with Kent who wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me.

KENT: Are you the people from Washington?

Me: Yes

KENT: I sold the car you wanted to my nephew.

Me: Really??? Because Sal told me yesterday it was still here and we just flew in…

Kent: I talked to your mom Cathy, and you had an appointment to meet with me on Friday and you didn’t show.

Me: That’s impossible, I never planned on being here on Friday.

At that point I was beyond irritated by Kent’s existence and I could sense the feeling was mutual so we simply started walking in opposite directions. Then I ran into Sandra who had to keep her sunglasses on while she talked to me because she had a super gross eye infection from a contact lens. I told her how Kent had informed me that the car sold. She told me there had been some miscommunication and the car was still mine if I wanted it. The only problem was they had no idea where the car was located. You see my new BFF KENT had lent it to his nephew to “try out” for a few days (AKA he was trying to take the sale away from SAL). They had been calling the nephew but he wasn’t answering their calls. I assumed this was because he was halfway across the Mexican border as we spoke or possibly being filmed from a helicopter on a high speed freeway chase that I would see the next time I tuned into COPS. All this I kept that to myself. Sandra apologized profusely and recommended a motel for us to stay at. Said it was called The Lone Oak Motel and that it was really nice place. We went to check out the motel and I kid you not it looked like the motel from the movie "Joy Ride" where everybody almost dies from the crazed trucker killer in the end. I told Dad that no way in hell was I staying there. Luckily there was a Quality Inn just down road. Unluckily, we came to the realization at 11 o’ clock that night that it was located a block away from the Monterey Airports runway.

Later that afternoon I got a phone call. It was from Mr. Butts himself. He must have apologized for a few minutes before I could even get a word in edgewise. He claimed that something like this had never happened in the history of his 150 year old business and that Butt’s Acura was the second oldest car dealership west of the Mississippi. I wasn’t really surprised. The building itself looked practically pre-civil war and was in need of a serious makeover. I’ve never seen a grown man grovel, but Mr. Butts was on his knees (figuratively, I couldn’t actually see him) begging for forgiveness. He also said they had located the vehicle, whether or not it was in Mexico was never confirmed, and that it was mine if I still wanted it. Being the bigger man I accepted his apology and went in the next morning to pick up the car. I was still feeling a little bit annoyed with the way Kent had acted and for his sake I’m glad we didn’t run into each other again. In preparation I had done 14.5 girl pushups in the hotel room that morning and I was ready to BRING IT ON if he so much as looked at me.

Through all the drama, I ended up getting the car and I am now a proud own of a metallic blue, Toyota Matrix. It’s so hot. Or I should say SHE’S so hot. I named her Lo. And yes, it is in reference to Lauren Condrad’s BFF Lo Bosworth of The Hills and Laguna Beach fame and bestselling author of “The Lo Down”. I picked the name for several reasons. Firstly, to say I LOVE The Hills would be a huge understatement. Secondly, she’s a California Girl. Thirdly, on the drive back to Washington I may have listened to the show’s theme song “Unwritten” on repeat for more miles than I care to admit. Fourthly, just like Lo on the show, my Lo knows how to create her own bit of drama, even if it was on a used car lot. And lastly, I’ve found myself really identifying with Lauren Conrad these days. More so Season 5 Lauren. You see, just like Lauren I’m entering a transitioning period of life. Just like Lauren had to move on from her treasured memories on The Hills, I too will always cherish my memories with Burt. But I’m ready for some new adventures wherever they await. Be it as an aspiring career as a reality television star? A new home? A new relationship? As they say, the rest is still unwritten.

Oh, the Magic of Macy's

The holiday season has finally come to a close, which has meant much rest and recuperation from my first holiday retail job. I feel that I’ve earned it. I hadn’t really planned on taking a job at Macy’s but seeing as job offers weren’t exactly raining like manna from heaven (and gin and tonics don’t pay for themselves) I decided making minimum wage over the Christmas season could have its perks. My favorite department I got to work in was definitely Men’s. Probably because I actually knew what the hell I was talking about when a customer had a question. My favorite part of the job was helping poor, tired, run down housewives who’s husbands were too lazy to come in and pick out their own flannel shirt. It wasn’t always easy and I definitely had some tough questions thrown at me, but I thrived on a good challenge and I feel like I may have found my newest spiritual gift that isn’t parallel parking. Example: Randomn, stressed out woman walks up to me and asks me, “What kind of sweater would you buy for someone who sells Subaru’s????” Piece of cake. Showed her a nice Izod green with grey stripes sweater. SHE. LOVED. IT. I told her I felt it was “very Oregon”. Call me what you like. A Miracle Worker? Rachel Zoe? I’ll answer to both.

One of the things that first drew me to the job at Macy’s was the fact that I had just begun reading “Holidays on Ice” by David Sedaris where he details his experience working as an elf at Macy’s. Sadly Walla Walla can’t afford the price/space to house Santa’s Workshop so my dreams of following in David’s tiny elf footsteps were quickly doused. HOWEVER, I did have my fair share of rubbing elbows with Christmas Royalty. Perhaps you’ve heard of the woman they call Mrs. Clause?? I first noticed her in the Ralph Lauren section thumbing through some red x-large sweaters. She came up to me and asked me what else I had in red. She was a little perturbed that our store didn’t carry any Tommy Bahama and I neglected to tell her that it was probably a blessing in disguise. She told me she was going to a party with her husband that night and then clarified that she was actually married to Santa. I laughed. Thought she was probably kidding….she wasn’t. She looked at me and blurted, “no really, he was in the parade this year”. Now unless memory fails me, I don’t recall the chapter in “Holidays on Ice” where David Sedaris helped Mrs. Clause pick out a holiday sweater for Ol’ Saint Nick. Do you? Yep. That’s what I thought. One point Rob Sesser. Zero points David Sedaris.

One of the downsides to working retail is the fact that you hold all the customers answers, or at least you pretend to, and every so often you become the bearer of bad news. One incident that sticks out in my mind involved having to tell a man 10 minutes before we closed on Christmas Eve that the coupons he brought in didn’t apply to the shoulderless Guess shirt he was hoping to buy. I thought he would take the news well. The men usually do, however English was obviously not his primary language and I’ve become a little rusty on my Spanish. I blame it on the fact that my first Spanish teacher was more concerned about finding the soonest opportune moment to slip another shot of tequila into his coffee versus teaching me how to conjugate. Regardless, nobody likes to be told that in fact they will not be saving $50 on said purchase. After some awkward blank stares and me trying my best to speak slowly and use very large gestures he threw me a bit of a curve ball by looking me square in the eyes as he ripped to shreds all his coupons before handing them back to me to be thrown away. Feliz Navidad??

But as anyone who’s ever worked in customer service knows, the hardest part of the job is dealing with an unhappy customer. My favorite tactic for dealing with rude and self obsessed customers is to be overly friendly. Kill them with kindness, ya know I mean? It’s an old habit I picked up from my Starbucks days. So when miss sass came up to my counter and told me she needed a gift receipt for a purchase she had made yesterday I knew there would be trouble. I explained to her that the only way to get her a gift receipt would be for her to return the items and repurchase them. You could have heard a pin drop in that room the moment I laid down the news.

Crazy person: “IT”S NOT MY FAULT!!!!”, she repeatedly snapped.

Me: “Yes I realize that ma’am, but it will only take a few minutes to make the return”.

Gurrl didn’t have a few minutes. Gurl had places to go! People to see! Every moment with me was moment missed on Days of our Lives. She snatched the receipt from my sweaty palm and power walked it out to the back parking lot only to return shortly with all the items and a credit card. If looks could kill I’m not sure that I would have made it to my final 15-minute break. While making the exchange, I received nothing but constant glares, loud sighs and uncomfortable grunts. I put the items and the gift receipts inside the bag, put a big smile on my face and said, "Sooooooooo sorry about that, thanks for shopping at Macy’s, HAVE A GREAT DAY!!" That was the last thing she wanted to hear, and boy did I love saying it.

Seeing as it was the season of giving it was a lot of fun helping people find gifts for their loved ones and I just have to say that I now think that kids buying presents for their parents is the most adorable thing EVER. For one thing, they never know how much money to give you, their parents are always nearby pretending not to notice, and they buy the most random things; such as the little boy who bought his mom a popcorn maker. Not a bad choice considering I had just sold a shiny, glitter, camouflage purse to a dad who was buying it for his kids to give their mom for Christmas. It takes a special kind of woman to love a purse that ugly…I really hope that’s what she wanted cuz that gift could easily have ended that marriage. Anyways, poor little guy had a big boy wallet that was a bit snug inside his little boy skinny jeans pocket so we spent about a minute trying to get the damn thing out. Luckily there wasn’t a line behind him otherwise I may have resorted to grabbing my scissors and cutting it out. Desperate times call for desperate measures and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure I make my sales goal for the day.