Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. What is it about big events that makes it seem like you spend 10 hours preparing and all of 10 minutes actually eventing? There is no doubt in my mind that the wedding will be the same exact phenomenon on a much larger scale, but at least that will be well-documented by a professional photographer.
So we had a sort of orphan-actor-potluck thing and I was in charge of stuffing. I did the rather labor-intensive traditional bread stuffing that is the mainstay of our family holiday dinners, I think it's a New England thing. I'd seen my grandmother and other Boutet women making it before but never actually done it myself. It's a lot harder than it looks. You actually cut the bread into little pieces with scissors and after two full loaves, some serious hand crampage can set in. BUT! It turned out rather tasty if I do say so myself. I managed to not eat myself nauseous this year. I wore jeans on purpose, instead of stretchy pants like I usually do, and I definitely quit while I was ahead. Fallon's green bean casserole almost put me over the top, though. Why is it you can throw Durkee fried onions on anything and make it yum? I bet you could top poop with them and easily choke down a few bites at least, you know, if you were on a game show or something.
I'm so glad I'm not going to be working in customer service for very much longer. I mean I'm friendly and patient with people but I can really only take so much. Here's something obnoxious that happens all day long: People will call us because they see the number on their caller id, and even though they don't have a message from anyone, they call the number back and say, "Somone called me. Who was it?"
How do people have nothing better to do than mess around with stupid stuff like this? Caller id is supposed to save you time by keeping you from having to talk to people whose calls you don't want to take. Now, inevitably, if I accidentally dial a wrong number and hang up once I realize that I did, whoever I accidentally dialed will ring me back an hour later - "Somebody called me." Newsflash, dipshits! Everyone has voicemail, everyone knows to wait for the beep, if whoever was calling you meant to call you and it was important, they would have left a message!
Sigh.
Also, I don't have time to balance your checkbook with you over the phone. It's not my fault you spent the money you'd earmarked for your electric bill on a membership upgrade at www.hotpussyparty.com.
I'm cranky! Think it's time for a turkey sandwich. And a nap.