I'm pretty sure Bath & Body Works is the most ridiculous store ever.

I went to the mall yesterday. I hate the mall.

There is one reason I go to the mall, and that is to wait on the Jeep while the guys at Sears change the oil and rotate her tires. You might laugh because I go to Sears. But, I've gone there for years. The same guys work there as the when I first took the Jeep. They do a fantastic job, they're very nice, they never try to upsell me on anything, and they answer my questions without talking to me like I'm stupid.

For those reasons, they continue to earn my business. I've bought four tires and a car battery there. And when I need brakes for the Jeep, I'll get them there too.

So, while I wait on the Jeep for about an hour, I run my mall errands. This usually involves a trip to Bath & Body Works to get my shower gel. However, I HATE Bath & Body Works. So I try to buy as much shower gel as is reasonable considering I'm not very big, or I get the minimum to get whatever is included in whatever random sale they've got going that day so that I don't have to come back for a very, very long time.

I hate most of the stuff in the store. I hate being overwhelmed the second I walk in the door by way too many aromas all in one place. But they do have one scent that I like.

All you need to know is that it smells like me. It is Tyrant. Simple, yet unoffensive.

But what I hate MOST about the store is that it's hardly ever busy when I'm there (granted I try to go early in the day before it gets busy), but there are always at least 10 girls working in the store with pretty much nothing to do. And their sole job (for ALL of them) is to hunt you down and explain all of the sales and specials, and to give you one of their big shopping bag for all of your purchases.

I never get hit with just one girl. I usually get hit with at least three or four of them, all of which seem to not have seen one of the other girls who just talked to me. It's not like it's a big store. And it's not like I'm not in and out of there as fast as is humanly possible. AND it's not like they don't wear those ridiculous headsets to communicate with each other, because they do.

But I have a feeling their secret headset communication goes something like this:

BBW Girl 1: Uh, girls. I just talked to the girl in the bright yellow t-shirt and the Chucks. Caught her on the way in the store. I told her about all of the specials on the west wall. I offered her a bag, but she declined. Susie, you're up.

BBW Girl 2: Ok, I tracked her to the "Specials" section in the middle and I told her about the "buy 4 get 1 free" for the products on the middle and lower left shelf. She still didn't want a bag. Muffie, she's headed your way.

BBW Girl 3: I let her know about the 2 for $47 sale on face and foot items. But I forgot to offer her a bag. It's my third day. Please don't fire me.

BBW Girl 4: Muffie, one more "failure to offer shopping bag" and I'm sticking you over in White Barn to keep an eye on the scented wall plugs and to sort potpourri. This is your last warning. WAIT, does anyone have a "twenty" on Yellow T-shirt?

BBW Girl 5: I've got her in hand lotions and tanning creams. Should I tell her about the Buy 5 get 1 free on Tanning Lip Balm? Or should I push the Buy 10 get $5 off your 11th tub of body butter.

BBW Girl 6: We need to sell more body butter and she looks like she could use some. Like, for reals. Her elbows look like they've never been introduced to a tube of lotion . . .

BBW Girl 7: Y'all, she only has two things in her hand and she's making an escape for the register! Distract her with the tub of $1.50 tiny bottles of hand sanitizer! She only needs to buy 7 bottles to get the free denim bag with minimum purchase of $35!

And . . . scene. All of which takes place in the span of one minute, thirty-six seconds.

I hate that store.

C.T.

Behold, my geniusery

Today, I said the following and was then told that I should coin it on my blog because it's just that brilliant:

Technology is not your friend when you need it most, like on the day you have to print stuff for a client presentation.

Learn it, live it, love it.

C.T.

This guy is my new hero.

Seriously.



C.T.

Coming Soon: The greatest achievement of my life.

This is big.

Sure, I've had plenty of other big achievements:

• Graduated college, with honors
  
• Bought a house
• Fixed the soffit on said house
  
• Wrote a novel
• Produced a CD
• Was nominated for a Webby award
  
• Survived Russia in winter
• Survived LASIK surgery . . . twice
  
• Fixed broken power windows on my Jeep by myself
• Figured out how to Sudoku
  
• Got up before noon this morning

But this next one blows all of those major accomplishments away. It is a MAJOR award, folks.

Due to all of the fantastic travel I have coming up in the next few weeks, I have signed up for the American Airlines Platinum Challenge. And I confirmed yesterday that in just a few short weeks . . .

I will be a PLATINUM level traveler.

People, this kind of status is a dream come true. The sun will shine a little brighter. The lines I wait in at the airport will be much, much shorter.

In fact, I full expect all lines everywhere to simply go away for me. The checkout line at the grocery store, lines at the State Fair, wrinkle lines that appear on my face as I move deeper into my 30s . . .

GONE. Because I have Platinum status.

It is a far-reaching status that I will take full advantage of in every area of my life.

Get ready for the Platinum Tyrant. Coming soon . . .

P.C.T.

Apparently working too many hours can literally kill you.

Overtime kills, y'all.

Read about it here.

Good thing I have a job now that doesn't make me work crazy hours anymore.

New job saved my life . . .

C.T.

When lightning strikes once . . .

. . . it apparently strikes my office building and lets me sleep in and stay home from work.

When your boss calls you at 7:45 a.m., my first thought is that I either overslept and she's wondering why I'm not at work. Or, something more along the lines of "don't bother coming in to work ever again."

This morning was sort of like that, but was more like, "don't bother coming in to work . . . until later today because the office was hit by lightning last night and we have no power."

This translates into, "Tyrant, you have the morning off. Please roll over and go back to sleep until we tell you that the office is working again."

Who am I to argue with my boss? I got off the phone and rolled over to go back to sleep.

I've also conducted some business via text message today. And I've decided that from now on, I will ONLY work via text message.

The extra sleep was much-needed to complete my recovery from my whirlwind trip to D.C. for July 4th weekend.

God bless America. And my extra sleep this morning.

C.T.

Soffit

I'm just going to go ahead and say that I do a really good job of keeping my house in tip-top shape.

My yard is fabulous. I do it myself. The house itself is in good shape, inside and out. When things need repair, I'm pretty good at fixing stuff or getting someone over here to fix it when it's something I can't do.

It's by no means a fancy house. There's nothing extraordinary about my yard. But it's a house that I make sure looks nice to passersby pretty much at all times. I take pride in making my house look nice and keeping my yard well-groomed. I've done some improvements since I bought it almost five years ago. Nothing major. Just things here or there that add a little curb appeal. And compared to many other houses in my old neighborhood and on my street, it's pretty much one of the awesomest houses in these parts, if I do say-so myself.

In fact, there are some pretty rundown rental houses either way on my street. Yeah, I'm pretty much that neighbor who wants the house two doors down to mow their yard MORE THAN ONCE A MONTH. Seriously. If your weeds hit your knees, this is disrespectful to our neighborhood. And I'm a little bit personally offended.

Now, periodically the City will send me a letter asking me to trim a tree that hangs over the back alley too far, or cut the grass behind my fence in the alley. For the most part, I don't mind. I sometimes don't remember all of the rules about how far my tree can be in the alley, and I'm certainly not going to get out there and measure it myself.

However, my one exception to my property upkeep is to refuse to cut the grass and weeds behind my fence in the alley until the City makes me do it.

My reasoning is that anything behind my fence is not my property because the City won't let me build my fence all the way to the concrete of the alley. My property ends at the fence, per the City. Therefore, anything outside of my fence is not my problem. However, when they send me a letter, I promptly cut it. But only then.

When some hoodlums spray painted graffiti on the back of my brand new wood fence and the City asked me to clean the graffiti off of my fence, I got out there and scrubbed it off myself even though I wasn't responsible for putting it there. It was a hot summer day and it took me all day. But, to cooperate with the city and because I take pride in my city, I made my fence pretty again.

Today, however, the City has crossed the line.

I got a letter today. It said this:

Please repair/replace and paint the deteriorated and falling soffit on the north side of the subject property.

I had to read it, like, four times to begin to comprehend what the problem is that I need to fix. Trimming trees that are in the way makes sense. Cutting weeds that are too tall behind the fence makes sense.

Soffit?!?!? Does anyone even know what that is???

I had to Google it.

Seriously. If you need me to fix something, just tell me what it is IN ENGLISH.

Apparently the soffit is the underside of the eave at the corner of where your roof meets the house. After I realized this, I figured out what they meant.

There is part of the SOFFIT (apparently) near the corner of the front of my house that has been sagging that I just haven't bothered to fix. I see it everyday when I pull into my garage, but I forget to come back out and push it back up everyday. It's siding. It's no big deal.

It BY NO MEANS is offensive to the neighborhood. It is BY NO MEANS the most dilapidated SOFFIT on this street. There are soffits falling all over the place. Unless you are looking at my soffet, you can't even tell. It sags maybe a couple of inches. It doesn't hold water, rodents can't get in there, and it doesn't affect the structural soundness of the house whatsoever (all of which are reasons given in the letter to repair things like soffits).

Now, for the record, I take great pride in not being a nuisance to my neighborhood. Not to mention, I AM A GIRL. If I can keep my house up, all of the men on this street who can't be bothered to fix their fences or paint their garage doors that haven't been painted since 1960 should be getting letters from the City EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Seriously, how bored is this City worker guy that he has the time to write me a letter about my soffit when around the corner there's a house where the porch is literally broken in half. It's an add-on. Clearly didn't come with the house. And clearly was not a good idea to add on.

Hmmmm. Maybe he's seen me working on my house and he thinks I'm hot, so he wrote me this ridiculous soffit letter figuring I'd have to call him (the letter does include his phone number) to ask what the heck a soffit is.

I hope he's hot.

Anyway, once I figured out what the letter was telling me, I grabbed two nails, my hammer, and my step ladder and tacked it up in two places. Done. Two minutes.

And it doesn't need to be painted, either, City Worker Guy. It's GRAY SIDING. It looks just like the siding on the rest of the house, which is in great shape. The reason you get siding is so that you don't have to paint. Der.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for doing my part to make sure the neighborhood looks great. I love that the City is involved in making the neighborhood a better place and helping to improve property values.

But, come on. Sometimes I think they're just picking on me. Seriously, the alley is pretty much a jungle with overgrowth coming over fences up and down the alley. My trees barely hang over and I'm the one getting the letters . . .

Maybe I should take it as a compliment. Maybe the City knows I'll actually fix what needs to be fixed, the first time I get a letter. So they are "helping" me make my property the best in the neighborhood.

Hmmmm. Maybe I'm getting an award for Most Awesomest House On This Street.

Plus I learned a new word today.

Soffit.

C.T.