short post short post come and get it

haha randomly there's a teleflora advertisement on my blog?  that's so funny and coincidental.

my day was quite entertaining actually.  earlier in the afternoon an older man walked into the store and headed straight for the refrigerator.  when i approached him to ask what he wanted, he said he was looking for a simple vased arrangement.  typically, my next questions would be about price and type of flower.  price didn't matter he said, he was interested in buying roses.  i asked him what color he wanted and he was  unsure.  "there are so many colors you have."  this is true.  the earlier you come in during the week the more flowers we have.
so i asked for whom the flowers were intended.
"my wife.  well, sort of.  my soon to be ex-wife.  we're in the process of getting a divorce.  i'm hoping the roses will convince her otherwise."
in my head i was screaming at him, "you imbecile!!! you expect your wife to rethink divorce after you give her a flower arrangement??!!  sentimental value only goes so far!"
instead i smiled at him, said, "that's nice of you.  i'd go for a mixed color arrangement."
sold.
he left the store waving and saying, "make it nice.  my marriage depends on you."  so much pressure.  so little incentive.

fast forward a few hours, i was getting ready to leave the shop when a younger guy, about my age, walks in looking exasperated.  "i need to get roses for my girlfriend....actually...are roses ok?  she's not talking to me right now. in fact, i really don't think she'll ever talk to me ever again, but i can try, right?  i'll get a dozen roses in a vase.  that maay do it."
uhhhh, what the hell did you do?
"i only have 50 dollars on my bank card. so.....also, do you have some sort of "im sorry for being such a jerk card?"
as a matter of fact...we do!
on the card he wrote, "I'm sorry!  Give me one last chance!"
"I need these flowers to be delivered," he said, "if she tries to give them back to you, don't take them.  if she breaks the vase in front of you, get out of the way."
the three others and i were standing there a little surprised at how bluntly he was speaking about her anger, entertained by the pain he was feeling, and a little curious about what he could have possibly done.  still, we did not get any answers.
as he left, he said, "if this works, and she forgives me, i'm coming back tomorrow and buying everything in the store."
yeah right.  1. he spent all of his money today buying 12 roses. 2. he'll totally forget about us if she makes up with him 3. yeah right she's going to forgive him after she receives a little vase with flowers.

my dad says i lack any sentimental quality.

Rule #1: The Customer Is Always Right

I don't mean to boast (well, maybe a little...) but I very rarely make mistakes at work.  At any job, really.  Since I started my first job at Aeropostale (you can laugh) when I was 16 years old until now at Maryam Flowers, I just don't make mistakes.  During my time working at the clinic, I would see other people make appointments incorrectly, give people the wrong information, etc etc. But me?  Nope.  Never :)

OK.  In other people's defense, I guess I can say that part of the reason I never give people wrong information is because I say whatever I want with so much confidence that people rarely know that I'm bullshitting my way through a conversation.  But I mean, how is anyone supposed to know so many details about laser hair removal...or flowers.  So, in their defense, they may be more virtuous in their work ethic, but I'm way more efficient in mine.

So, I was quite surprised earlier today when I was confronted over the phone by a disgruntled customer.  Not, not disgruntled, IRATE.  Before I even finished my warm answer on the phone of, "Maryam Flowers how can I help you?" the woman was already yelling at me.  At first I grew panicked.  I didn't know whether it was my fault that she was yelling, or whether "miss grumpy-pants" had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed.  But after I listened to her screaming from the other end of the telephone, I realized that it was in fact, not me, who had made the error, but her capricious demands about the flower arrangement she had ordered had confused her and she was just taking her confusion out on me.  An innocent bystander.  A victim of unnecessary belligerence, if I do say so myself.

Still, I was quite thrown off guard as she was yelling at me and ended up trying to compromise a situation in which she would hang up, a happier customer.  She did end up getting what she wanted.  But only because I really really really wanted her to stop yelling so I could hang up the phone and start laughing.  From the other side of the window separating the front of the store from the workroom in the back, I could see Maryam, Heather, Victoria, and Mersad, looking at me with confused looks on their faces, wondering what I was doing holding the phone about a meter away from my ear, holding back giggles that were building up in my throat.

Finally, when I hung up the phone and explained the story, Maryam said that it happens, that people sometimes forget what they had ordered and demand that their order be changed.  I assured her that this was not mere forgetfulness but complete CRAZINESS.  The woman was deranged.  It happens.  I get crazies calling me all the time at work.  By now, I'm used to it.

But, it WAS the first time a customer ever yelled at me.  I have to say that in retrospect, it was quite thrilling to be put into that situation and coming out of it with complete control of my emotions, and not crying my eyes out because my feelings were hurt.  In fact, I look forward to the day someone tries to belittle me again at work by thinking they're right and I'm wrong.

Rationally speaking, people pay money for services because the cost of doing it themselves would be much higher than if they go through a middleman, in this case, a florist, to fulfill their needs.  Moreover, as the florist, clearly we know more about professionalism, efficiency, and overall knowledges of flowers, than say, the average person on the street.  Unless of course they were biologists with an expertise in plant life.  So, the only rational conclusion is that the customer is very rarely ever right.  Probably, they're actually most times incorrect in anything that they argue about.

Funny Notes from the Flower Shop

Happy Birthday my Dearest, Schmoopiest DaDa!  Love, Your Guy

what it means to be 22

I always thought that by this age I'd have my life more figured out.  I thought that once you reached 18, you were automatically an adult despite the circumstances.  How very wrong I was.  Today, now, at this age, I'm still fighting for entitlement, independence, adulthood.  Slowly, I see it trickling into my life, but no where as fast as I expected it would.  I never thought that I would be so lost at 22.  Just last year my life was more figured out than it is now.  I had a plan, and I thought I would be sticking to it.  And then, it's as if my life was turned upside down, and my plans went down the rabbit hole, and I became Alice, tumbling down attempting to catch them before everything hit the bottom.  Before I hit the bottom.  Now, I'm sort of hoping that I do hit the bottom, so I can continue on to have an adventure in Wonderland, meet the Queen of Hearts, paint some roses red, then reenter reality with a newfound sense of what I want in my life.

How does it feel to be 22?  More or less the same as feeling 20, or 21.  But now, there's that imminent sense of "holy crap, I just seem to be growing older.  I really need to figure this shit out."  You know that feeling?  The feeling that it's never going to be last year, I'm never going to be 21 again.  In fact, the numbers are just going to go up up up, and the next thing I know I'm going to be turning 42, and then what?! And then what?  Theres an added pressure with growing older.  The questions are going to start popping up more and more, "What are your plans?  When are you going to settle down?  Find that husband?  Have those kids?" And I'm going to have to politely smile and say, "I guess we'll see," while secretly pulling an Avada Kedavra curse on them in my head.  Secretly.

But you know what, f this.  Screw all the negative things I keep writing on this blog.  You know what?  This isn't me.  I'm not supposed to be this negative yucky mean girl who's isolated herself from all the humans in her life.  I'm not supposed to be this nervous wreck who constantly worries, who constantly torments herself with thoughts of tomorrow.  I was never like this before, and quite frankly, I despise that I am like this now.

So.  What does it mean to be 22?  Well, for starters I'm going to fix everything that I f-ed up as 21.  I'm going to pick up the pieces of my life and really go for the things that I want.  So it takes a little bit to discover what those things are, but I have all year, right?  And hopefully, next year this time, I'll be typing a blog like this from the comfort of my home in the New Jersey suburbs with my husband Ralph, and a 2 month old on my shoulder.

Haha.  Just kidding.  Yeah right, like that's ever going to happen.

testing testing 1 2 3

MARIONETTE

something about the bugs made it the worst idea

I've been watching "Six Feet Under" recently, and the mom, "Ruth Connor," is a really interesting character, but one of the things that makes her the most interesting is her sense of style.  While at the beginning I thought of her style as outdated and frumpy, as the season continued I came to realize I had a sort of fascination with her high waisted washed-denim and her collared shirts.  It reminds me of a 1970's version of "Little House of the Prairie."  The last few days, I've become more and more obsessed with the way she dresses and today at AvaNava's house, I convinced Ava to put on her mom's dress from the 1980's and prance around the garden for me.  Except, I didn't take into account the 100 degree weather or the relentless mosquitoes.  I got in a few shots, but I think that about 5 minutes after we were outside both of us were sweaty and COVERED in bites.  Even now, typing this, I feel the itching on my legs.  I'm afraid to check to see how many I actually got.  I want to continue playing this "Little House of the Prairie" meets Sonny and Cher look again and in a more extensive form.  Until then, enjoy these: 

funny messages

"Just because it's Tuesday.  Love you.  Mr. Good"

Same guy, two separate orders.  Cards reading, "I just felt like it."

"I wish you a great new age.  I wish that we stay together for forever!! I LOVE YOU!!!  I wanna be loved by you and I love you until we die.  Love, D."   (this guy ordered the arrangement from Turkey)

the most beautiful children on the face of this planet

water for chocolate

A majority of my time spent thinking revolves around this wild fascination I have with retracing the memories I have anywhere from yesterday to five years ago, and I think about what I would do if I consciously could go back in time into "past ranna" but with the knowledge that I had already lived these events and with the knowledge I have today about what occurred during the events.  I think about ways in which I could...I don't want to use the word manipulate because I feel like it has a negative connotation, but it's the most fitting...let me think of a better word...hold on...maneuver?  The way in which I could maneuver the situation to work out more preferably, perhaps, or just differently than it originally had the first time.  Why?  Well, I've come to think that I really have a big problem with this abyss we call "the future."  I don't like the uneasiness I feel about my future right now: what's to become?  I don't like living without a sense of purpose, and recently I have felt as though I'm being tossed into this black hole.

I know that all you Eckhart Tolle fans are reading this and shaking your heads in stark disappointment.  I've let you down with this confession.  I understand this.  But I really have tried!  I promise!  But sometimes I just think that maybe I don't have enough self control to remain completely in the present.  It's very difficult for me to think about each breath that take.  It's very difficult for me to do something without thinking about why I'm doing it, and what the end result will be.  I have spent time trying to remain conscious of every move that I make: when extending your arm to reach for something, think of your extended arm moving in the air as it reaches for the object, do not think about taking the object, do not think about what you will do with the object upon capturing it in your hand, feel the heaviness of each movement, like your arm is moving through water, pushing through the current.  

But it's very difficult for me to continue thinking like this over a long period of time.  So, I end up thinking about what I'm doing in my life, what I'm doing in the next three months, why I have to do something now in order to achieve something in six months.  Each time these thoughts occur, I break a sweat, my chest starts to tighten and I like to occupy myself by doing something that requires no thinking.  For example, watching, "Law and Order: Special Victims Unit," or putting my headphones on and dancing crazily in my room.  It's the only way I can get my mind off of these thoughts that have really taken over and are sweeping the energy out from my body.  

Thinking about the past in the way I described to you makes me feel almost as if I would be doing something devilish.  I would know people before they knew me.  I would know details about them before they had the chance to tell me.  I would be able to live events over knowing how they turned out the first time, and changing them to see how they would be able to change.  It could be like those mystery novels we read as children: "if Bob travels into the jungle to slay the lion turn to page 46.  If Bob goes home to his family for dinner turn to page 49."

But, I'm sure I've mentioned to you more than once that the Economist magazine once wrote an editorial about a book that said that clairvoyance was actually the only impossible thing in life.  They said that time travel would be possible one day, which makes me really happy.  But clairvoyance?  Sorry charlie.  Not going to happen.  Until then I have my imagination, I suppose.  And I'm so sorry to all my Tolle fans that I find thinking about tampering with the past so much fun.  I'll try not to....starting tomorrow.