Friday, August 20, 2010

I tried to find a picture for my last post...this is what I found. Disappointed in the world. That's how I feel.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSLwCImWv-c&feature=related

In and Out with A Bang!

This is to demonstrate the point that no matter what I do, or where I go, something ridiculous and crazy always happens. I can't ever just have a normal day. Nah, nah. That would be too easy.

April 28th, 2010, I was hired as Macy's of Cool Springs Tennessee's newest employee. I don't even know how I applied for the job. I am pretty sure I just typed in "job search in Tennessee" on the search bar thing. Somehow, I was directed to a totally random site and I am not really sure it was real...I was almost positive that if I put in my information, I would be tracked down and stalked or something. Seeing as how I have yet to be stalked...the site must have been somewhat legit. Anyhow, I got an email from Macy's and it told me where to go. I took my mom along just in case the place wasn't real and turned out to be some kind of Oceans 11 hideout. I don't know. My imagination sometimes gets the best of me I think. But the place was real and I somehow got hired.


Saturday May, 1 was my first day. Um. Worst first day ever. Work isn't bad...until it slows down to a screeching halt...no customers... We are all standing around wondering what has happened. Someone goes over to the doors, which were out of my sight range, and discovers that...the parking lot has flooded! Oh my! What excitement! Wait...the parking lot is flooded? Why? Huh?

Basically, Middle Tennessee had turned into a lake. I just wanted a nice first day of work where I would drive home at 6 when I got off but no. I left at 7 and got home...two days later.

Like I said, I can't have anything normal happen in my life. Too easy that would be.

Today was my last day of work. Bitter sweet, you might say. I worked in handbags. If you know me well, you know that I am a handbag junkie but I have very good control over my addiction. Don't worry.

As I was walking around looking for someone to buy a purse from me, I stopped an older lady who looked lost. She had a cane and looked fragile.
Me: "Can I help you find something ma'am? You look a bit lost."
Lady: "Oh, I'm just looking for the elevator. Where is it?"
Me: *Points* "It's right over there by the petite dresses."
Lady: "Oh...I was just over there. I think I'll just try the escalator."
Me: "Uh...ok." *Slightly worried but moving on with my life*

Not two seconds later, I get this feeling of "turn around." I turn around...Heavens to Betsy. The lady is falling down the escalator and looks like her leg is broken.

Me being the naturally nimble and short kid I am, I sprint across the store like some comic book superhero.

Note: running in a pencil skirt is hard and not recommended.

Anyway, I make it to this lady just in time. I make sure she is stable and not going to fall any further. Suddenly, I realize, we're still moving and if I don't push the emergency stop button soon, this lady might be in worse shape than she already was. So I bullet up the escalator stairs and push the button just before the lady reaches the top! PHEW!

I help the lady up. Her leg is not broken but she is really shaky. Then...two minutes later...all of my managers show up. We doctor her scraped up leg and blistered fingers and sign some papers. I run to the coffee shop next door and get her a glass of ice water to calm her down and then I walk her over to the home-wears where she looks for a cake pan.

Note: They no longer make 8" cake pans. Only 9". FYI.

We didn't find a cake pan she could use but I did get her calmed down. My managers looked like they had been slapped in the face. I didn't care. I just wanted to help the lady. So I did.  She then thanked me continuously for saving her.

Then I walked back down to my department.

No one said a word about any of it to me for the rest of the day...sigh. Superheros just don't get appreciated like they should.

Again, in and out of Macy's with a bang. Couldn't I ever have a simple, normal day? Nah. That would be waaay to easy and no fun at all.

And please, if you see an elderly person get on an escalator, stop them.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Comfort and Growth in Talking

I find that the older I get, the more comfort and self growth I get from talking to people.

As a child, I was...shy...somewhat of an introvert. My mother tried to get me to be social but I didn't feel the need to be social so important. Basically an only child, I played Barbies and did the voices in my head for all 37 thousand Barbies I had. Polly Pockets...best friends and I could take everywhere...In my pocket! What a novel idea. Genius, I thought. My two best friends in elementary school, Savannah and Katie, loved Barbies and Polly Pockets just as much as I did. So to recap: Barbies, Polly Pockets, Savanna and Katie, and my parents, of course, were basically it in the friends category for a long while.

Who needed a lot friends when you had pink and life like toys? I didn't think I did. That was until I reached middle school. Friends and being social were a challenge. I couldn't figure out why people didn't like me. I looked like all the other kids, dressed like them, made better grades than them, though I don't think that that was it. In my aged years now, I have decided that I maybe was too advanced for them? I didn't have time for young punk kids like themselves and they knew it? Meh. I still don't know what happened.

High school was a different story. No boys. I see many of you with a "gasping for air, fish out of water" expression on your faces. No boys was the best thing ever. Finally, girls being girls and not worrying about what some stupid boy was thinking about her or the girl around the corner. Nothing to fight over. Well, you would think nothing to fight over but girls will be girls... High school was great though. Really really good. I still wasn't the most social kid but I had my best friends and that's all that I needed.

Four years of high school and it was off to Idaho for college. Oh my death. I cried the first two months. WHY HADN'T I LISTENED TO MY MOTHER!!?!?? People: when your mother tells you to be social as well as other life advise....LISTEN TO HER. I had no real social skills! Why had I ever thought I wouldn't need them? Stupid girl. I couldn't talk to people. "Cat got your tounge?" Story of my life. Choking on words. Looking at boys like they were the space creatures from H.G. Wells' 1898 classic, War of the Worlds, just crawling all over the world trying to kill me. Palms sweaty. Literal brain numbness.

Don't fret readers, this only lasted two months. Then I magically got the hang of things. I don't know what happened to me one day but I remember sitting in my dorm lounge and thinking "Sharlene, you idiot, just go talk to people, make friends." I could hear the subconscious Sharlene stuttering "F-F-f-friends-s-s-s?!?" Real Sharlene: "Yes, you loser, friends. Make some."

That day was the changing point in my life. I learned how to open my mouth. Words came out! I think I was shocked. I was talking to complete and total strangers. And...I liked it!

Growing up, I was always boggled by my mother. That lady could talk to the Dalai Lama and not have one hair on her arm shiver. She could strike up a conversation with any complete random stranger and 10 minutes later that they were actually 67th cousins. I had never seen anything like it. She encouraged me to "Talk Sharlene! They won't bite you!" I, in turn, would shy away. Shy away until the day when I became my mother.

You're probably all thinking, that I'm still really shy. You are wrong. You just don't know me. Know me, people. To quote my mother, "I won't bite." I really like talking.

This brings me to the point in the story where Benjamin Brooksby comes in. Hey Ben, welcome, have a seat. For those of you that don't already know, Ben is my boyfriend. I love him to pieces. He is the best thing since I don't know what. I would say sliced bread but sliced bread isn't very good. To semi-quote a comic (don't remember which one) if you get the Pepperidge Farm bread...good luck, they wrap that puppy twice. There ain't no gettin' in that sucker for your little slice of sliced bread happiness. That phrase is stupide. That's stupid with an e.

Tangent. Back to Ben! Listen folks, if you ever want to meet your Mr. or Mrs. Forever...you have to have the appropriate social skills. That means talking. You see, when I started trying to win Mr. Brooksby's heart, I knew what I had to do. Could read him like a book with its cover open. I needed to prove myself that I had talking skills enough to handle myself on my own. One night, Ben left me for a few minutes to take care of some church stuff. I was left at a table full of people. Bada bing bada boom! No problem. I simply opened my mouth and talked. A simple two step process that I think many people would find very useful in their lives. You see, when Ben saw me talking to these people, he knew I was the one.

Maybe that's not what did it but it sure had a huge part in it.

You can't be afraid to talk to people. You will learn so much about yourself and others by doing so. People will like you. No if, ands or buts about it. It works! I sound like a infomercial. But really. If I could give one piece of advise to anyone it would be talk, talk to everyone all the time. You will never know what you will learn, about the person and about yourself. Life will be better.

I do it, my mom does it, Ben does it. If it works for me, it'll work for anyone.

In times of trial in my life, I find talking to people to be one of my biggest comforters. Telling people your story and hearing theirs is sort of what makes this world go round. How would anyone understand or work together if they didn't know at least a little bit about where the other one was coming from or why they were they way they were?

If you want to stop being misunderstood, the simple solution is to talk. Let people know what you're about. They will grow to understand how you are and what you mean when you say what you say. People will like you more if you open up to them. It's a trust factor. If you can talk to people about something other than the weather, they will trust you and life will be better.

Aside from Ben inspiring this little postie, my T.V repair man was what got me thinking tonight.

I have this thing. Some call it a gift, some call it annoying, take it how you will. When I hear an accent, I am attracted to talk to this person like a mosquito attracted to a bunch of swamp fishermen. I don't care where I am, what I am doing or who I am with, I will attack these people to get their life story. I'm especially fond of Eastern Europeans. Don't know why but that's how it is. Anyhow, tonight, I walk in my house and what do my ears hear??? AN ACCENT! My excitement grows until I figure out the right time to talk to this man. He's from Moldova. Never heard of it? Me either. It's resting comfortably between Romania and Ukraine. Honestly, I wasn't even sure I knew there was a country there. I am a little ashamed of that but you live you learn. Through talking to this man, I got him to tell me about his family, his native language (which happened to be Russian), he likes fishing and he's been here for 10 years. He seemed really happy to have someone genuinely interested in his life.

My mom and Granny were standing to the side in shock. Their little shy and short child had grown up to be a talker. Miracle!

As the man left, I spoke a few words of Russian to him, some of the only few I remember from my two semesters of Russian out at school. Maybe it was just me and the fact that I had just remembered some Russian, but the man seemed really happy. I was happy. Lots of happiness was acquired through a simple conversation.

You see what I mean? Open your mouth. Talk to people. You never know who's day you will make.

Even if your the most shy person on the earth, I am positive this method will work for you. It did for me.

Also, listen to your mothers. They do know best.