OK, I know I have an unusual name. I like my unusual name. And given the chance, I wouldn't change it. In fact, I (and my sister/cousin roommates) got quite offended when we had a home teacher who told me repeatedly that I could change my name and get a "real" one. We fired him. Anyway. Like I said, I know it's unusual, so I try to help people out a little.
For example, a month ago I was on the phone with a business. The woman I was speaking to asked for my name.
"My first name is Peanut. P-E-A-N-U-T." Pretty clear and straight forward, no?
"Christina?"
"No, not Christina. Peanut, P-E-A-N-U-T."
And then because she couldn't answer my question she put me on hold to talk to someone else.
"OK, Christina, what can we do for you?"
"My name's not Christina."
"Oh. I'm sorry, that's what it says here."
"No. It's Peanut, P-E-A-N-U-T."
"We have that after Christina."
Unfortunately, that kind of conversation isn't that surprising to me. That's part of why I've made it a habit to say, "My first name is..." following it up with a spelling. And then "My last name is..." I really do try to help people out.
People also have trouble with my name when they try to get it from my drivers license. The problem? They look at the name: Peanut Jean Frogmorton Zoolander, and they can't figure out which is my first name and which is my last name.
Just yesterday I was at the library checking out a book that I'd reserved (Twilight, incidentally). I had forgotten my library card and instead used my drivers license.
"It's under 'Peanut'?"
"Yes." (At this point I got a little worried and wondered if she was looking at all the other Zoolanders in the system and didn't see a Peanut or if she was looking for someone with the last name Peanut.)
"Have you not used your card in awhile?"
I clarified, "Peanut is my first name."
"Oh!"
I don't see how it can possibly be that hard. Four names. In a row. The first one is my first name. The last one is my last name. I thought that was standard.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
In Touch with Family, Friends, and Reality
Last night I dreamed that I was on vacation. I traveled the country and saw many of my cousins, siblings, and their kids. Plus I did lots of cool stuff.
When I arrived back home there was a friend of mine waiting for me. I told her about my travels.
She asked, "How long did it take you to do all that traveling?"
"Oh, about three days."
"How on earth did you visit all those places and do all that in just three days?" And she began calculating driving times and miles.
I tried to brush her off by explaining that we drove fast. But when that didn't work I had to confess, "Well, it may not have actually happened. I suspect it's a dream."
When I arrived back home there was a friend of mine waiting for me. I told her about my travels.
She asked, "How long did it take you to do all that traveling?"
"Oh, about three days."
"How on earth did you visit all those places and do all that in just three days?" And she began calculating driving times and miles.
I tried to brush her off by explaining that we drove fast. But when that didn't work I had to confess, "Well, it may not have actually happened. I suspect it's a dream."
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Shopping
The day before my birthday, Marty announced, "I'm going to Target."
"Oh?! What are you getting?"
"It's a secret!"
Over 2 hours later he finally came home with a single bag. Not from Target.
He got me a back massaging pillow. It was nice, and I liked it pretty well, but the problem was that I saw the receipt first. And for that much money, a back massaging pillow wasn't what I wanted. So I asked Marty if it'd be OK if I took it back.
A couple days later I tried to take it back, but because I didn't have the instruction manual, the sales clerk wouldn't even consider taking it back.
"It came with instructions?" I asked. I certainly hadn't seen them. And considering that it had a single button to push and a power cord that plugs into the wall, I didn't find it too complex to figure out even without instructions. But she insisted, "We can't accept it without instructions because we can't sell them without them."
And then she threw in, "Plus, if you don't have the exact card it was purchased with we can't do the return."
OK. I'd have to come back another time--with the instruction manual and Marty.
That night I looked all over for the mysterious instruction manual. Nowhere to be found. I concluded that somehow they'd manage to sell one without instructions.
The next day, I went to their online store and found a PDF of the instruction manual. With a printer that will print in booklet format, some creative stapling, and a paper cutter, I created a beautiful replica of that oh-so-important instruction manual. In fact, when I showed Marty he said, "Great, you found it!"
"Nope. I made it."
Marty and I went back to the mall. This time the sales-person deemed the item returnable and asked for Marty's card it was purchased on and ID. After a minute or so she also asked for a phone number. "You need my phone number for me to return something?"
"Yes, I can't process the return without one."
"What about people who don't have a phone?"
"A work number? Everyone has a phone number they can give."
Marty gave his phone number but took that last statement as a challenge...who did he know who didn't have a phone--personal or work? And so for the rest of the time that it took to process the return he told me (of course, loudly enough to be heard at the register) people that he knows without phones. It was kind of funny.
And then we were off to find me a birthday present. We looked at watches, but there wasn't one that I loved. So we looked at the jewelry in the neighboring displays.
Marty asked, "Do you like silver?"
"Yes."
He took my hand and we went to a store on the other end of the mall. He pointed to a necklace and said, "Do you like that?"Apparently he'd spent 30 minutes in this store the other night when he first when out to get my gift--and he'd almost gotten the necklace in question but didn't becuase he wasn't sure if I'd like it. Turns out I do. So that's what he got me.
On our way back to the car we stopped at one of those little photo booths.
In all, that night shopping at the mall was a great birthday present in itself. Plus, I have souvenirs--a picture and a necklace.
"Oh?! What are you getting?"
"It's a secret!"
Over 2 hours later he finally came home with a single bag. Not from Target.
He got me a back massaging pillow. It was nice, and I liked it pretty well, but the problem was that I saw the receipt first. And for that much money, a back massaging pillow wasn't what I wanted. So I asked Marty if it'd be OK if I took it back.
A couple days later I tried to take it back, but because I didn't have the instruction manual, the sales clerk wouldn't even consider taking it back.
"It came with instructions?" I asked. I certainly hadn't seen them. And considering that it had a single button to push and a power cord that plugs into the wall, I didn't find it too complex to figure out even without instructions. But she insisted, "We can't accept it without instructions because we can't sell them without them."
And then she threw in, "Plus, if you don't have the exact card it was purchased with we can't do the return."
OK. I'd have to come back another time--with the instruction manual and Marty.
That night I looked all over for the mysterious instruction manual. Nowhere to be found. I concluded that somehow they'd manage to sell one without instructions.
The next day, I went to their online store and found a PDF of the instruction manual. With a printer that will print in booklet format, some creative stapling, and a paper cutter, I created a beautiful replica of that oh-so-important instruction manual. In fact, when I showed Marty he said, "Great, you found it!"
"Nope. I made it."
Marty and I went back to the mall. This time the sales-person deemed the item returnable and asked for Marty's card it was purchased on and ID. After a minute or so she also asked for a phone number. "You need my phone number for me to return something?"
"Yes, I can't process the return without one."
"What about people who don't have a phone?"
"A work number? Everyone has a phone number they can give."
Marty gave his phone number but took that last statement as a challenge...who did he know who didn't have a phone--personal or work? And so for the rest of the time that it took to process the return he told me (of course, loudly enough to be heard at the register) people that he knows without phones. It was kind of funny.
And then we were off to find me a birthday present. We looked at watches, but there wasn't one that I loved. So we looked at the jewelry in the neighboring displays.
Marty asked, "Do you like silver?"
"Yes."
He took my hand and we went to a store on the other end of the mall. He pointed to a necklace and said, "Do you like that?"Apparently he'd spent 30 minutes in this store the other night when he first when out to get my gift--and he'd almost gotten the necklace in question but didn't becuase he wasn't sure if I'd like it. Turns out I do. So that's what he got me.
On our way back to the car we stopped at one of those little photo booths.
In all, that night shopping at the mall was a great birthday present in itself. Plus, I have souvenirs--a picture and a necklace.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Criminal Acts
After a couple of weeks of changing our minds about everyday, we decided to move out of our current apartment.
Last week I submitted a rental application for a townhome not too far away.
Today I passed their criminal and credit checks and was approved to lease the townhome.
In honor of not being a felon and being rejected, here's something funny from a site that's a guilty pleasure of mine.
Last week I submitted a rental application for a townhome not too far away.
Today I passed their criminal and credit checks and was approved to lease the townhome.
In honor of not being a felon and being rejected, here's something funny from a site that's a guilty pleasure of mine.
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