The Shop Around the Corner
The cheese in the fondue pot had become cool and clumpy. The mushrooms and cubes of crusty bread had all been devoured, and all that remained of the dippable items were a few pieces of steamed broccoli and cauliflower.
“So,” I started, “I brought along a movie I thought we might want to watch tonight. It’s called The Shop Around the Corner.”
“Wait. Isn’t that the name of the bookstore in You’ve Got Mail?”
I grinned. “Because… You’ve Got Mail is a modern-day remake of The Shop Around the Corner.”
When one of my favorite bloggers told me that The Shop Around the Corner is his favorite Jimmy Stewart film, I knew I wanted to see it. To give you an idea of how much I loved it, let’s just say that last night was the second time I watched it in three days. If you live around here, you can check it out of our local public library, or if you don’t mind the film being broken into eleven parts, it appears that you can watch it on YouTube.
It’s entirely possible that there’s no better way to spend the Friday evening before Christmas than watching an old black-and-white romantic comedy that culminates in the Christmas season.
compliment gone awry
“She’s so sweet. I don’t think she could hurt a fly if she tried to.”
It started out as a compliment, but by the time she was finished gushing about this dear friend of hers, it had turned into an insult. She meant well, of course, and I’m sure everyone understood what she intended to say. However, next time maybe she should just stick with something along the lines of “She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”
Because what I heard was, “I love my friend. She’s such a wimp!”
they’re cheaper by the dozen
Single men… Looking for a unique Christmas gift for that single woman you’ve been admiring? Consider giving her a dozen eggs. No longer will you need to worry that you’re out of sight, out of mind. For twelve days, she will start her day thinking about YOU!
If you’re concerned that a carton of eggs is too impersonal, consider adding your own handwritten messages at no extra cost. Better yet, grab a Sharpie and give the eggs some personality.*
For the record, these eggs came from the farmers’ market and were personalized by none other than Yours Truly. However, a single male friend of mine DID give me half a dozen eggs a couple weeks ago, knowing that he wouldn’t eat all twelve of the free-range eggs his aunt had given him. This post is not his fault.
* Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
No tickets for you!
On Thursday I emailed the Athletics Events Coordinator at the university where I work about the possibility of making an adjustment to their policy that currently gives married employees unlimited free tickets for members of their immediate families. I am single, and therefore do not receive any free tickets to basketball games (except for myself). However, like the loyal fan that I am, I was in the stands on Saturday afternoon, wearing my favorite blue t-shirt.
Today I received a reply to my email. Here is the main part:
We do understand you feeling the way that you do. Neither of us know of any situations where friend of single employees are admitted free. We would then need to allow friends of students in as well. Bottom line is that we are going to leave the policy as it is at the present time.
I very much appreciate your thoughts and time you put in to sharing them with me. This is the way that changes happen. As a former farmboy, I know that seeds must be planted!
::
So there you have it. I planted a seed, and the person who had the opportunity to water it reached down and yanked it right out of the ground. No free tickets for you!
I had tried not to get my hopes up too high, and told myself that I wasn’t going to be too disappointed if the free-ticket policy didn’t suddenly change, but I failed miserably at those attempts. Honestly, I’m beyond disappointed. I’m angry.
Apparently it’s important to have identical free-ticket policies for students and employees, but it’s not important to give equally valuable benefits to ALL employees. I guess Virginia really IS for lovers.
missing pieces in my United States puzzle
If I were putting together a puzzle of the United States that included only the states I have visited, there would be eight pieces missing. Six of them would be edge pieces, while the other two wouldn’t really fit anywhere. Eventually they would probably be relegated to the lower left corner of the puzzle.
Eighteen months ago (and for the preceding six years), there were 11 pieces missing from my puzzle, but during the summer of 2007, I visited Washington (and British Columbia!), and in June 2008, I checked Nevada and California off the list. So I’m down to eight.
Here’s the map:
If U.S. geography isn’t your forte, these are the missing states (clockwise from the top left):
Alaska
Oregon
North Dakota
Michigan
Alabama
Mississippi
Louisiana
Hawaii
The other day, someone who lives in one of these states jokingly asked me when I would be visiting. I didn’t have an answer. One of my unofficial life goals is to visit all 50 states, but at the moment I don’t have any travel plans beyond Christmas and New Year’s. None.
So tell me, dear readers… which of these states should I travel to next?
If you live in one of them, tell me why I should visit you. Or if you just happen to love one of these states and think I haven’t lived ’til I’ve been to _____, tell me why I should make that state my next vacation destination.
Here’s your opportunity to practice the art of persuasion. On your mark, get set, go.
somebody wasn’t listening
I placed a gallon of milk and a wire basket with a few items on the conveyor belt at the express checkout. Handing the cashier the reusable bag I wanted to use, I anticipated her next question.
“I don’t need the milk in a bag,” I said.
“OK,” she responded as she passed the milk jug over the scanner. “Do you want your milk in a bag?”
“No, thanks.”
That worries me a bit. What did she think I had said??
ticking towards four o’clock
I felt like an employee of Bailey Bros. Building and Loan today as the hands of the clock ticked towards four o’clock.
“7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… BINGOOOOO! We made it — close the door!”
OK, maybe my day wasn’t quite as dramatic as the run on the bank depicted in Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life,” but I was just as relieved to pull down the gates at our service counter at four o’clock as George Bailey was to close the door to the Building and Loan at six o’clock. (To get in on the action, start watching at 6:47 on the YouTube clip below.)
Unlike George, I was not packed and ready to leave on my honeymoon, nor did an aggressive competitor across town call me and snarl, “If you close your doors before six p.m. you will never reopen” (2:50 on the YouTube clip). However, both my boss and our receptionist were out sick today, so I was pinch-hitting for both of them. It so happens that today was the last day of final exam week, and although the campus was fairly empty and quiet overall, the Registrar’s Office became an absolute zoo. The call bell on the counter summoned me from my office countless times as students, faculty, and staff took care of various end-of-semester details.
If Zuzu Bailey’s teacher is right — “Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings” — there must be a heavenly host flying around tonight!
mysterious little note
I ran my fingers through my hair as I stared at the little slip of paper, trying to figure out who had written the mysterious note.
I had discovered the note while working my way through an enormous stack of papers that had been accumulating on my desk. I finished up my final projects for my summer AND fall classes on Tuesday night, so this evening it was finally time to tackle the growing pile of papers – my first Christmas card of the season, flyers, invitations, pleas for charitable contributions, music, meeting agendas, scribbled notes, Sunday School lesson plans, receipts, church bulletins, handwritten lists of various kinds, and so much more.
My face suddenly grew warm when I read the words on the tiny piece of paper:
“Rachel Hold My Hand…”
Whoa. How had a note from a secret admirer gotten onto my desk at home? I live alone, and when my friends come over, we don’t exactly hang out in my office. I could think of only three single guys who have been to my house in the past few weeks, and while I don’t presume to know how they feel about holding my hand, I felt quite certain that none of them would have left such an awkward little note on my desk.
I propped my head up with my hand. How had a piece of paper I had never seen before ended up on my desk??
After a minute or two, it finally dawned on me. To my relief, the strange note wasn’t from a secret admirer after all and had been floating around since the end of October (I checked). I was asked to help lead a song during worship at church one Sunday morning, and I agreed to sing a very short solo part on verse two. The song leader gave each soloist a slip of paper to remind us which verses we were each singing, but knowing that I wouldn’t forget, I tucked the paper away without even looking at it.
The song was “Guide My Feet,” an African-American spiritual (listen HERE). The soloist’s words for verse two: “Hold My Hand…” Aha! That explains the strangest part of the note — the fact that my name looked like an afterthought!
for the love of college basketball
To: [XYZ] Athletics Events Coordinator
Subject: free admission to [XYZ] basketball games
Hi ___,
I just wanted to follow up my phone call with an email. I’m a big fan of [XYZ] basketball and attend every home game I can. I’m aware that immediate family members of [XYZ] employees can attend home basketball games for free. From my perspective as a single employee, it would seem more fair if employees could receive free admission for all family members OR one accompanying person, regardless of relationship.
I realize, of course, that there is no way to make the system perfectly equitable for everyone, but I do appreciate your consideration of my request. Thanks!
Rachel
close call on a snowy road
This morning I made a right turn that I wasn’t expecting to make until the moment just before I made it. There was a little snow on the roads, but the roads weren’t particularly slippery. However, when I’m driving over hills and around curves on snowy roads, I drive a little bit like a granny. (Never mind that my car has all-wheel drive.)
The country road I was on passes through a little village where the speed limit is 25 mph, so I was probably doing 25. As I drove down the hill, I approached an intersection which had stone retaining walls at two of the corners. On the far side of the intersection were concrete guardrails for a bridge over a small creek. In other words, this wasn’t a wide-open intersection in the middle of a field. I had the right-of-way, while the cross-road had stop signs.
A vehicle coming from my left seemed to be approaching the intersection much too quickly. Was it going to stop? I was almost to the intersection… and driving downhill. I began to brake, and a moment later, both vehicles were in the intersection. Never in my life have I come so close to colliding with another vehicle. The van was turning left, but I was moving faster than it was, so I made a sudden right turn, hitting the brakes as hard as I dared to while trying to maintain control of my vehicle.
The only sound I heard was the snow crunching under my tires as I came to a halt. My right leg was shaking. I was in the left lane, but I was still on the road. And I’m still amazed that there wasn’t a collision.
