12 days of christmas in 500 words or less

well, friends, it's been a while. a lot has happened in the past few weeks, most of it sweet, glorious nothing. i had the week off work, and joel was off school, so we did a fantastic lot of nothing, and we did it in style. however, a blog of nothing is not a blog worth reading, so here are the cole's notes of the past two weeks, the parts that resemble something:

joel and i watched the entire first season of prison break in three days. we also (on a separate occasion, although to have done both simultaneously would have been record-breaking awesome) purchased an entire pound of beef jerky for twelve dollars, and consumed the lot in less than twenty-four hours.

i watched bits of 'planet of the apes,' 'ben hur,' 'king of kings,' and star treks IV and V with the family on christmas day, as is the plett tradition.

i worked my last day at red robin. due to excessive lack of employee attendence which will be punished in no way, shape or form (see: reasons i quit) and the openingbecomeslunchrushbecomesdinnerrushbecomesclosing of boxing day, i worked ten and a half gruelling hours. and then quit. and today i found a set of manager keys in my apron pocket, which i don't remember borrowing, but which is probably causing no end of distress up at the old dirty bird. hee hee hee.

i went to one of my family gatherings and two of joel's. there was wine (mine), there was yahtzee (his), there was foodstuffs. you know the drill.

we did a bunch of wedding planning that i don't even want to think about blogging just yet.

i used my cousin's boyfriend's pug to convince joel that WE should get a pug. not a purebred, because they need extensive surgery just to live, but a puggle. which is what you call a baby platypus. but it's also one of these.

joel and i had another one of our many adventures south of the border (see: that time we drove to the gorge to see dave matthews and drove back that same night; that time we went to the woodland zoo because the aldergrove zoo only has one hippopopopotamus, and she wouldn't come out of her damned swamp; that fourth of july that i wanted to see real fireworks). we were heading into washington to spend new years with some old and dear friends. as per usual, the trip down was nearly flawless. the sun was shining and the day was warm...

so we didn't even really mind when steve and kelly missed the turn-off because they were playing 'taboo' in the car...


we stopped off at the ole dusty burger...



where ten dollars will get you most of a cow, and it's udder products, too...


it was the drive home where things sour (also as per usual, see: that time we got pulled over TWICE on the way home from the gorge). joel and i had to head back early because we both had obligations on the 2nd. a smattering of snowflakes had us packing up before noon. the old salt down at the gas station told us that a storm was a-brewin, and that we'd better hightail it to wherever we were going. sure enough, the storm caught up to us on stevens pass...

and it rained and it snowed and it sleeted, and the windshield froze...

and the other thing froze...
we got about two hours up stevens pass before we were halted by a row of cars allegedly forty miles long (source: guy also in line who heard it on his radio). half an hour later, with daylight fading, we headed back down the mountain to try the other pass. joel's old enough not to try and badass his way through a mountain storm, but going the wrong direction at thirty mph when you're not even sure you'll be able to go the right direction later, because it might be full of snow, is rather defeating. it deters you from reading passing signs at the top of your lungs and gleefully pointing out carrion. twelve dull, staring hours and one deliciously traditional stop at jack-in-the-box later, we made it safely home.

and then i went back to work.

i'm hoping all of your christmases and new yearses were as pleasantly boring as mine, with a perilous adventure or two to liven them up, and that you met with your loved ones in a stress-free environment that may or may not have included wine, and that you got fewer things done than you'd hoped you would have, but that you really don't mind, and that you gained five pounds and don't mind that either, because bathing suits are at least four months away, but most of all i'm hoping that somehow, you felt the hand of God.

plett family fun

for the sake of my entire left-hand-side of the family, and because we seem to have only one camera between us, i have uploaded the better fraction of my sister's shutterbugging to my new, created-expressly-for-this-purpose flickr account. for those of you not related to me through blood or dating, please feel free to vicariously enjoy our drunken hilarity here. there's a pug in it for ya.

bows on bobtails ring

in the spirit of quitting, and of only having (let's count them together, friends...one...two...three...) four shifts left at reds, and of being virtually unfireable, i broke every dress code rule i could think of tonight. instead of my polishable leather shoes, i wore runners (with WHITE SOCKS!!!). rather than my plain dark blue jeans, i wore the ones with the worn patches! a snakeskin belt replaced the black leather one, and to cap it all off, i affixed a large velvet bow to my back belt loop. not only did it lend a festive air to my derriere, but it helped disguise the fact that my apron cuts my no-bum in half.

and because albert thinks there should be more of him in this blog, i'll say it again...albert, if jen didn't work so damn hard, you'd be my favorite hostess.

the gory details

so, it all started because we have family coming over for christmas on friday, and family coming over brings out nazi-mom (just kidding, mom, i love you), and nazi-mom makes you do stuff like clean your room and move things into the garage. and so sunday afternoon, while joel was out with steve (the roommate with the cats) doing reasonably vague guy-nothings at the mall, it seemed perfectly reasonable that mom would make me help her take some things down into the garage. it was cold, and i thought it was going to be one of those you-own-too-many-things-and-need-to-amalgamate-your-storage-goods-on-to-one-shelf moments, so my relief on regaining the upper floor was tangible. THEN the phone rang, and i was cryptically ordered to go into my room, and promptly hung up on. i had gone INTO my room to answer the phone, but it took some doing to find it, so i didn't immediately notice the LARGE BOUQUET OF FLOWERS that had materialized on my bed. with a note. and a blindfold? the note read (i paraphrase) 'bundle up, come outside, blindfold yourself, give me a call.' notes accompanied by flowers must be obeyed, and once outside, i was ordered back in so that joel could use the facilities. i hung out blindfolded and alone by the front door, calling out 'it's dark! my eyes...oh long johnson' until he came back. i had to hang out blindfolded and alone again once we got to our unspecified destination, because he had walked me a ways along slippy trails and over branches (i think i stepped in poop) before realizing that he'd left something in the car. [the part of me that embellishes stories to make them a leetle better would like to say that it was the ring...'hey babe, will you...uh...damn! it was in my pocket a second ago!' but it was a rose, or something.] SO, we got to a picnic bench and he made me stand on it and took my hands and said a bunch of stuff about our relationship and all we've been through that i won't repeat here, and then he let go my hands and said i could take off my blindfold. now, i had told joel when we started dating that he wasn't allowed to tell me that he loved me, because those words are scary words, and sometimes they're lies, and i didn't want to hear them if they were lies. but when i took off my blindfold, there he was, kneeling in the wet grass, telling me that he loved me and asking me to marry him. and then i said yes and then i almost cried a little bit and then i screamed for my ring and then we picnicked on the wine and cheese and spiced meats and breadsticks that were spread on the be-clothed, be-candled, be-rosed picnic bench. oh yes, and we were at this park that he and i had gone to one time when we were first dating and fed the squirrels and he took a picture of me feeding a squirrel but my little bum crack was peeking out and that was the picture that he took with him to hawaii to remember me by, and to show people, 'that's my girlfriend, she can't buy pants for herself.' anyway, THAT's the bit (candles, cheese, park, accomplice dressed like ninja to light candles) that probably took the most effort and forethought on his part but that i always keep forgetting to tack onto the story, because the important thing is that here we are, two-and-three-quarter-years, one break-up, two summer-long separations, a handful of fights, a bucketful of miscommunications, a truckload of moments that were just right, and three little words later. and babe? i love you.

oh don piano

joel wants to get cats. i don't really want to get cats, because i don't altogether like them. they're eerily like furry teenagers, and who wants that? plus, i'm allergic. but joel's old roommate, steve, got cats, and joel looooooooooves them.


see the love? go on, reach out. touch the love through your computer screen. so i guess we can get cats. but only, ONLY, if i can teach them to say things like 'oh long johnson' and 'why i eyes, ya'...



and also, i'm a little bit engaged.

christmas shopping

there was a DOG in metrotown today. you know that dog from the fido unlimited christmas commercials? the ones with the young, disconcertingly attractive mr and mrs claus? it was that dog's older, bigger, bockety-eared brother. i was walking down the A&W-starbucks-bank run that leads from the skytrain to the mall, and this ENORMOUS DOG walks out of the bank. just like that. he heads for the mall doors, and i'm like, dog, you can't go in there. YOU'RE A DOG. but dude, no one tells a massive, mall-walking dog what to do. so he heads in, trots down the stairs, and starts wandering into stores. he's checking out christmas prices, and freaking people out because he's surprisingly quiet, and you're bending over putting your purchase in the back of your stroller, and then all of a sudden this BEAST comes around from the side where your CHILD is, and you scream a little bit like i did the other day when i was stretching downstairs after working out and i still had my headphones in so i didn't hear my sister come in and then these moon boots appeared in front of my face and i thought she was a giant spider...in moon boots. ANYway, this dog. security finally rounded him up and carted him off somewheres, and about ten minutes later i heard 'would the owner of a large white dog please report to the information booth.' and i laughed. because don't NOBODY own that dog.

happy hour

children get drunk on snow and wind. nature is like tequila to them. the clarences were in a glorious frenzy today.

*blink blink*

'i hate working at red robin metrotown...i don't ever want to see the inside of [it] again' - blog exerp, sept. 16

'i can't put my full energy into my jobs-with-purpose because im so dragged down by my 'efficient' job...the most amount of money in the least amount of time.' - journal exerp, oct. 26th

-'&)*#$ people, i'm )^@#$ gonna set this @#(!#@ place on fire' - exerps from all those blogs i didn't post

'you should quit red robin' - joel, jane, robyn, kind of hinted at by my mom

i am more than pleased to announce that i have, for good or for ill, turned in my two-weeks notice. as of boxing day, 2006, i will no longer be employed by the red robin industry. it is well-remarked-upon in the business that no one ever quits for good, and i make no pretense of saying that this is good-bye forever. i've even had several second thoughtses since i decided to quit about a month ago, but every time i do, i have a horrible, horrible shift in which i contemplate my own death. it is as though God is, rather ungently, supporting my decision. so for now, in the interests of my sanity, my well-being as a person, my sleep patterns, and my overall opinion of the masses, i have left the dirty bird.

i have purposely avoided filling my blog with server stories, partially because anything i could say, this guy has said better, and partially because no one who hasn't served gives a damn. as a sort of farewell toast, however, i will now leave you with my favorite *blink blink* moments, as proof that servers aren't really human beings and no one listens to them. (for those not in the know, *blink blink* is code for 'i physically cannot dignify that with a response, so i'll just stand here and blink.' i like to sometimes say the word 'blink' as i blink, as if to emphasize the fact that i'm not answering. just blinking.)

- can i grab you guys something to drink?
- no thanks. i'll just get a water.
- *blink blink*

- can i grab you guys something to drink?
- i'll get a coke.
- is pepsi ok?
- yeah, sure that's fine.
- and for you, sir?
- yeah, i'll get a coke too.
- *blink blink*

- can i grab you guys something to drink? (this one actually happened yesterday)
- yeah, what do you have on tap?
- canadian, rickards honey brown, and heineken.
- ok, i'll have a rickards red.
- *blink blink* i'm sorry, we don't have the red on tap anymore. is honey brown ok?
- sure, that's fine.
- and for you?
- um, don't you guys have, like, heineken, or anything?
- *blink blink*

and then, my personal favorite:
- what can i get for you there?
- i'll have the popcorn shrimp and chips, only, instead of the chips, i'll just get more popcorn shrimp.
- *blink blink*

some dogs...

...are clever. and have hobbies. like tyson, who is a better skateboarder than i will ever be.

other dogs...

...are idiots. like this one. who cannot distinguish between his own hindquarters and a legitimate foe. and whose limbs seem to operate tauntingly independant of his brain.



and the moral of the story is...people are like that too.

does anyone know...

how to delete comments? particularly random spam comments? i am joining the ranks of word verification-ers, and will soon turn on my comment moderation, if this does not cease.

alas.

BEHOLD!!!

my new earmuffs!!!


are they not enchanting???

do you not wish they were YOUR earmuffs? they have sparkles in them!!!

here they are from the side!!! there is a mess on my floor!!!

i would like to thank blogger, the dollar store, and my sharp-eyed neighbor, candy, for making this all possible.

ps. to candy: i received no less than eight compliments on my earmuffs at work tonight. kudos.

ps to jane: while i did take all of these pictures myself, none of them are in black and white, i do not look pouty in any of them (perhaps a leetle drunk in that last), and not a one of them will be making an appearance on my myspace.

AND THEN I ATE THE BOWL!!!

so, a while ago, i broached the idea to my boss-who-actually-really-hates-children-but-she-just-does-all-of-our-administrative-work-anyways-and-has-no-real-contact-with-them-and-plus-she-hates-them-in-a-jovial-and-humorous-manor-so-it's-really-all-ok (who differs from my boss-who-has-a-small-square-shaped-growly-child-in-the-infant-program-of-whom-she-is-quite-fond-and-so-am-i,-particularly-because-of-the-way-he-growls-my-name) of our center getting a baby crocodile that we could feed little bits of the kinders to. but just, like, little bits so that no one would notice until one day...hey, where'd the Defiant Clarence go? oh yeah, we fed him to the crocodile.

i meant it as a joke, but i guess it must have happened for real, and i just don't remember because of all that crack i was smoking to survive the Defiant Clarence, but he's gone now. and being replaced with a clarence from the daycare, one i will hesitantly, and perhaps jinxingly, but ever so hopefully, entitle the Angel Clarence (or perhaps the Submissive, Servile Clarence, S.S. Clarence for short, and i will make him wear a sailor's hat) as of monday.

did i mention that my co-clarenceherd had a family crisis for which she had to leave work, and that for the past week and the next week and the week to follow, i am the sole caretaker of the clarences? there is no better time for a Defiant Clarence to take his leave of us, voluntarily or otherwise.

and now, if you don't mind...

because toques mess up your hair

i know that everyone i've run into in the past month has heard this story, but i can think of at least two people who read this blog who i haven't seen in at least a month, and at least two other people who read this blog who i DON'T EVEN KNOW, so they can enjoy my struggles, and the rest of you can skip this.

i have been looking for earmuffs for over a month.

remember way back in october, when it got really cold there for a bit, and i went on the halloween train and to fright night at the pne, both outdoornighttime activities? i looked for earmuffs then. everyone told me it 'wasn't the season' for earmuffs.

i got the same line a week or so ago. 'are you serious? because it's nearly the end of november, and it's hella cold outside. i can't actually think of a better time to sell me earmuffs than RIGHT NOW!!!'

and then today, because everyone says 'have you checked zellers? because zellers will have earmuffs' but they didn't, but they told me to check shoppers drug mart and they didn't but the girl there used to work at they bay, and they do, she said. they didn't, but they did have these darling brown mittens with an orange and blue flower on the back, and when you put your hands inside, the big finger lump was separated into little finger cavities, and i know that defeats the purpose of mittens, and now you have something that lacks both the fingers-all-together warmth maintanence of mittens and the separate-finger dexterity of gloves, but they were cunning little things, and i wanted them.

ANYway, i am sending out a plea. does anyone OWN any earmuffs? know where i can BUY earmuffs? want to SELL me some earmuffs?

welcome to utah

for most of the night tonight, my section hosted a bachelor party...of mormons.

if any of your mormon friends are getting married, send them and their buddies my way. hours of good, clean, non-drinking, PG mormon fun. hours.

That Guy

so, i'm at work on saturday, and i casually glance in the lobby as i stroll by, and HEY! it's That Guy i dated for, like, two years in high school. no big deal, right? i mean, we parted amicably enough (even though that 'amicable' status deteriorated a year or so later when i found out that he had cheated on me A MILLION TIMES!!), and it was eight years ago, so i should be able to shake my head at my adolescent antics and go on about my business, right? RIGHT?

except i didn't. i crouched behind a table so he couldn't see me, and frantically waved the hostess over. 'That Guy in the black fleece, you can't sit him in my section. or i'll shoot you.' and then i went to the bartender for comfort, because i knew she'd cuddle me. and there was fretting and the wringing of hands and the gnashing of teeth and the avoiding of a whole half of the restaurant until he left, because somehow, this shook me.

i mean, he was my first serious boyfriend, and my first kiss and the first guy i thought i loved, and (possibly the most damaging, once he turned up a hypocritical man-whore) my Christian mentor at a time when i was just figuring this Jesus thing out. but years have gone by, and i have dated other, (some only margianally) better guys, and even gone to prayer counseling to deal with this thing, and so i feel like it SHOULDN'T FAZE ME ANY MORE!!!

my oldest friend is getting married this may, and, if i'm not mistaken, two of my ex-boyfriends will be at her wedding (right, jacks? or just the one?) and to that i say, well, hell's bells. but it really doesn't bother me, because a) as her bridesmaid, i will look hot, b) they will not be surprising me at my place of business, and c) they didn't toss my heart under a moving subway just for kicks (did i mention that the two years were packed full of psychological, emotional and spiritual manipulation, and that i never even suspected the cheating, because how could That Guy, who was shocked and apalled by my vampish love of TANK TOPS, be getting his freak on with some other girl?)

the question is, i guess, is does it ever go away? i mean, even though you've 'gotten over it,' does the sight of That Person who hurt you most, or first, or worst, ever not give you the unpleasant shakes? does it get better if you see them all the time? or if you know when it's coming? or is it just one of those things you have to solve by fleeing the country?

disclaimer: while That Guy received marginally bad service, and trevor offered to walk over, whip out his unmentionable part, and gently rest it on That Guy's shoulder, no one spat in his food or 'accidentally' spilled hot soup on him. on the whole, i feel he got off lightly.

i suppose the star over the stable might have been a kind of horoscope

the Prematurely Old Clarence frequently tests my abilities to steer sketchy conversations into clearer waters. with five-year-olds, you don't really want to be discussing predestination versus free will, for example, or their little heads might pop off (on second thought, this isn't looking like a bad idea). you tend to couch things in simpler terms, or avoid those subjects altogether. also, we try to discourage 'bathroom words.'

it's hard, though, when the Prematurely Old Clarence, who is Practically Perfect in Every Way, turns to me and asks whether farts are made of gas. or whether a turd is a kind of poo. the runny kind, right? and does so with complete sincerity.

and there is definitely no appropriate response to this, that i can see...

it's circle time, the clarences are gathered around
rachel: friends, what holiday is coming up?
clarences: merry christmas!!!
rachel: that's right, chrismas is coming! and what are we celebrating at christmas time?
half of the clarences, because the other half don't know: Jesus' birthday!!!
prematurely old clarence: Jesus is a capricorn, you know.

i know jeremy already posted this video to his blog...

but it just makes me SO HAPPY, for reasons i can't explain. the lyrics roughly translated, run thusly:

young brother, young brother, be quiet
you are crying, but our father has left us
he has gone to the place of the dead
to protect the living, to protect the orphan child

i always almost cry at the end a little. i know. but it's just so endearing!!

asleeps?

friends, this is the problem. it's late. it's 2:15 in the a.m. i've only just got home, and i'm not a whit tired. i know that when the alarm goes off tomorrow at 6:30, i'll be exhausted to the bone, and the temptation is to stay up clean through the night. feeling the way i do now, i know i could. four years of college, though, have taught me how that next day feels; your eyes are aliens and your skin tries to slink away without you noticing. this is not a fitting condition to be working with children, particularly when not even a good day leaves you without the burning need to pitch one out a window. still, this is the pattern of my every day. i'm dead beat in the morning, yawny-tired until about 2:00, starting to liven up at around 6:00, and raring to go once the midnight hour has passed. i should get myself some sort of vampire status, and save myself all this grief.

time to talk myself down to sleep.

rule #96 for the preservation of self

thou shalt not watch the America's Next Top Model season recap with a bowlful of halloween leavings in thy lap.