 I am an East Coast expatriate hiding out in the Midwest... I am an urban gal living in the suburbs and occasionally hiding in the country I am a yoga practitioner, fitness enthusiast, believer in the mind-body-spirit connection... I am a mid-life "revert" to the Roman Catholic faith in which I was raised and which has become an enormous source of support, encouragement, inspiration, and joy in my life... I am a mom, sister, daughter, and wife... I am an explorer; adventurous and curious about the world and people around me... I am educated in the formal sense but I gain insight through everyday living... I created this blog at a time of great fear and apprehension in my life. I chose to sustain it because of the discoveries about myself and the world around me that it has revealed. What you can expect to find here: the documentation of a love-hate relationship with the greater Philadelphia area reminiscing about the good-ole-days (the 80's!) complaints about my various ailments and injuries, both real and imagined pictures and stories of gardening, decorating, shopping, sewing my love of irony links to kooky news stories way too much scatological musing for sane people
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Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Sometimes I Feel Like I live in a "Seinfeld" Episode
This morning I get a call from a mom of a kindergardener at my daughter's school. Mom is talking quickly, frantically, explaing that " low-talker gobbledygook...is coming over at 3pm and I need to be here, so can you pick K. up from school?"
I think for a second after not hearing the first part of her request and reply, "Well, um, E. (my daughter) takes the bus home in the afternoons so I don't usually pick up there." I wait for her to back off her request until she states, "Oh no problem, I'll leave K's carseat so you can pick both girls up in the office."
After a call to the school to make sure this would even be permissible, I call The Mom up and explain, "We both have to write notes explicity detailing who is picking whom up and where."
The Mom replies, "Oh no problem. I'll pick K. up from your place around 4:30 or 5 once they've gone."
I have to then ask, "Um, who did you say was coming over that you need stay at home?" I'm thinking its a therapist for her elderly grandmother, or one of her lawyers as she 's having some custodial issues with the kids.
"Oh, my cleaning people. I'm not going to have time to lock up all the jewelery and I don't want them to be cleaning while I'm not here."
CLEANING PEOPLE?!?! Oh, boo-friggin'hoo!!!! I felt like George Costanza about to fly into a whiny rage.
I don't have a cleaning PERSON yet alone a CREW and I surely don't have any sort of noteable "jewelry" to lock up. Cripes. The nerve!
Instead I sighed and reminded her to send a note and to call me when she was coming over to pick up her daughter.
Now that I've blogged my Seinfelidian morning, my Polish Clenaing Lady (a.k.a. ME) has to go vacuum the house. I'll try not to peek in any jewelry boxes while I'm at it...
Posted at 02:04 pm by brandy101
 |  |  | Deirdre September 13, 2005 11:25 AM PDT
The People.
The Nerve.
Ack! |  |
  |  |  | Janine September 8, 2005 02:37 AM PDT
Haha. You sound like me - I get REALLY mad when I hear someone complaining about their "cleaners". And then I go home and vacuum the ceilings in disgust. |  |
  |  |  | chrysalis September 7, 2005 07:38 AM PDT
Cleaning PEOPLE? Plural? What is this, like Extreme Makeover Home Edition, with uniformed mobs descending on her house with a shout, to clean and polish and scrub the woodwork with freaking toothbrushes?
Oh, and if she goes to the cleaning guy's house, does she see her statue on his shelf? |  |
  |  |  | Esther September 6, 2005 07:26 PM PDT
Hmmm. That's really gross. When I encounter people like that, I am just dumbfounded by how many worlds apart we are...
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  |  |  | AbbyNormal September 6, 2005 03:07 PM PDT
Oh Geesh! I'm with Melanie.
And to think, I came over here as a break from cleaning! Nope, no fancy jewelry was harmed, or seen, in the process.
Easy, George. |  |
  |  |  | Melanie(melsybopland) September 6, 2005 03:01 PM PDT
Tell her to hide her Tiffany and Co. up her arse.
Ok so I wouldn't say that either since I am more passive then aggressive.
But I would like to.
I hope her cleaning people leave streaks on her mirrors.
::: sticks out tongue :::::: |  |
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