Let's Talk About Weight...

So Thanksgiving has to be one of my favorite holidays. I think it's mostly because I get to pig out on food and then not feel guilty afterward. And I know some of you are thinking, "Alison's the size of a twig, why would she ever feel guilty about eating anything?" Well, I'm human and I do.

Here's the thing about being thin: I'm kind of self-conscious about. Think of it this way: I go shopping and I'm looking for at the smaller sizes. Someone from across the room is watching me, envious of the size I'm in because our society has made it a crime to be any bigger. The person goes home and starts skipping meals or even worse, starts an eating disorder. Why? All because they saw me and the sticks in the magazine. They decided they weren't good enough because they saw me in the store and became jealous.

And I understand that it's not my fault that people become anorexic or bulimic, but I don't like being automatically grouped with that culture simply because of my size. If you just saw me shopping in the store, at first glance you might think: she's tall and skinny, she could be a supermodel. It's the worst thing you could ever tell me. I've gotten it before (A LOT) and it offends me. And it's only because it groups me in a society I don't even like. 

Yea, I'm crazy but we've already established this. Here's why I think it's better not to be Burge-girl skinny:

1. It's really a proven fact that guys like girls with more curves. You wanna know why I think I didn't go on my first date until I was 19? I was too skinny. What guy wants to date a size 4? I turn sideways and there is NOTHING to me. People go, "Where's Alison? She was just here." Guys want girls who when they turn sideways they can admire. Plus, being skinny can give off that whole I-don't-ever-eat-anything-vibe. Zack once told me that if I ate salads all the time, he would have never asked me out. He loves my appetite. My first date with Zack, we went out for pizza and I ate like 75% of the pizza. I think he enjoys the fact that I can out eat him.

2. You become lazy. Now, I actually enjoy working out. I like sweating and my workout routine consists of an hour of Just Dance on my Wii. However, being this skinny can give you a lazy complex. I don't need to work out because I'm super skinny anyways. There are people who weigh a lot more but are a millions time healthier than me because they eat better and work out more. They could live to see their great grandchildren get married and I could die when I'm 40 of a heart attack still skinnier than a twig! And I constantly fight the lazy complex but then I think of my adorable great grandchildren and pick up that Wii remote! I also REALLY like to dance but that's another story.

3. Being Burge-girl skinny can get you into trouble. This may be scary but I actually wear the biggest size of my sisters. I also go up a size because of my leg. We actually got in trouble in junior high and high school because we were TOO skinny. Our teachers thought we had eating disorders and out of concern would call home. I actually got called down to the nurses office and the counselor was there to talk about it. I've never had an eating disorder and it was only after the one millionth no that they relented. I had fight against this belief that just because I was skinny I had an eating disorder. My parents had to explain to school officials that we were just skinny. We had no problems eating, we were just wired to be tall and skinny. I'm not trying to discount eating disorders because they're terrible. My heart aches to think people would subject themselves to it because they think they're not good enough. I didn't want my teachers spending time on me when there were other students who needed help.

I'm all about having a healthy lifestyle. And I have family members who've lost weight and I'm SO proud of them. Losing weight just needs to be done the right way. Skipping meals or resorting to eating disorders are not the right way. So here's the real point of my blog: Trying to be a healthy weight is achievable, trying to be Burge-girl skinny is not. So please don't use my size as your role model.  

F.Y.M. + E78 = Me!

So yesterday I ran across a friend of Kristin's, who I watched grow up. As it turns out, she's now attending my alma mater, EIU. It made me insanely happy as I creeped through her Facebook photos looking at places I once frequented.

As I went through her photos, I felt like I was stepping back in time. A lot of her photos from high school were from Northwest's youth group. Then I came across the announcement videos from the same time period and it brought back so many memories.

I loved youth group beyond anything else in my life. I went on all the retreats, camps, conventions, Fine Arts trips and missions trips. I went through the leadership training and for a while, was considered a student leader.

My dream today is become a youth leader at a church and pay it forward. I had so many wonderful youth leaders that influenced me and shaped my spiritual journey. I want to be the same for those who follow behind me.

Sadly, I can't find any F.Y.M pictures to post so I apologize for that. That was back in ancient times when I had a film camera. When I started youth group, it was a change in leadership. The youth pastor had just become the head pastor at Northwest and for about a year, we didn't have a pastor. Then came Dave and Kristen March. A very wonderful, Godly couple who showed me that sticking to your faith and loving God is the key to living a full life.

Junior high and early high school were difficult for me but the March's helped me through it and were so supportive and caring. I didn't really fit in with the people my age at church (minus a few). They were normal and seemed confident and I felt like I had to be someone else around them. I was crazy (still am) and incredibly awkward. It was the typical self-conscious teen thing but I felt twice as awkward because of my leg. They were prettier, more popular, and were constantly changing boyfriends. I just didn't fit. But with the support of the March's, I discovered that I didn't need to try so hard.

I also got a lot of support from awesome leaders like Adeolu, Christine, Katie and Stephanie. Without them, I think I would have absolutely hated my life. I remember Katie being very proficient as the Carlton dance and entertaining us all at one youth retreat. Adeolu took some girls and I to lunch one day at California Pizza Kitchen. That's where I learned how to do the whole tequila shot thing with the salt and lime (minus the tequila). We thought we were super cool doing it with lemonade.

When Dave and Kristen left for Wisconsin, I was 16. They shaped who I am to this day. I loved God, loved life and could drive myself to all the youth group functions. I learned to embrace my leg and make fun of myself. For those of you who are curious, this is around the time of my infamous leg/prom alternative story. It fell off while we were at Navy Pier and my dad scared Dave to pieces upon returning to the church.

I had also found a wonderful group of friends where I didn't have to try. I became me. At the core, I'm still the same, crazy Alison I was 7 years ago. I still love God, love life and I can still drive myself everywhere. God had shown me who I was and a dream of the future. There was still change to be had though.

The new youth pastor arrived shortly before my senior year of high school. T.J. and Jill brought a name change and lots of new ideas. I wasn't used to change and wanted desperately to hang on to the past. He painted over the mural in the back of the youth room. We went from Fire Youth Ministries to Element 78 (which is platinum). T.J. taught me to embrace change. All the changes were made for the improvement of youth group and it made us stronger. Made me stronger. A lot of the youth leaders were only a year or two older than me and instead of being role models, they were friends.

Good Christian friends who believed in good Christian fun. And I have pictures!

Meet my youth leaders... getting high on helium

The funny story with this picture is James (the guy in the middle) passed out. I have a video of him fainting from inhaling too much helium. They were singing Christmas carols and wanted to sound like chipmunks. James got back up pretty quickly and kept singing.

Don't let my innocent smile fool you... I was hard core.

This photo was taken at winter retreat. We played sculpterades (which is a combo of charades and pictionary). I rocked hard core at this game and whenever it was my turn, it went to full contact sculpterades. I tackled one guy and ended up head butting another. After someone on your team got the right answer, you had to run to the center of the room, grab the bucket and run back to your team. At one point, I accidentally collided with James (the fainting one) and tossed the bucket to the other side of the room. Two words: hard core.

We got bored so we painted Peter instead.

Oscar (guy in the blue) and Monica (in the grey) had very loud personalities but Peter (the boy in the middle) is SUPER quiet. On our missions trip to Georgia, I volunteered to paint with them. It beat going outside in the hot Georgia sun. We, unfortunately, got assigned to the men's bathroom. It was gross. Even Oscar didn't want to go in. But we sucked it up and went in, scrubbed the walls and painted. However, the paint was the EXACT same color and we couldn't tell where we had painted. Peter is a very nice young man and obliged us when we joked about painting him because at least on him, we could tell where we had painted.

Although, there was the time the youth leaders put make up on one of boys who fell asleep in the van. Unlike Peter, he was not amused.

So on this Thanksgiving Eve, I want to thank my youth pastors and their wives. For the support, confidence, training and guidance. I wouldn't have survived high school. To my leaders, you set Godly examples for me to follow when I needed it most. You provided countless hours of amusement and prayed with me hundreds of times. You truly cared about me and gave me something to look forward to every week. To this day, my favorite day of the week is Wednesday because that's when I attended youth group. You truly made a difference in my life and I just wanted you to know.

And oddly enough, my blog name came from my time in youth group. When I started youth group, I was trying to be someone else but the people I met taught me that it was enough to simply be Alison.

P.S. I will be writing an actual Thanksgiving blog tomorrow. Please be safe during your travels!

Mr. Rogers' Congress

I've had it. Completely, utterly fed up with this all.

I try to avoid discussing politics because let's face it, everyone has their own beliefs and people rarely change their minds. People will never truly see eye to eye on political issues. But what happened tonight is a travesty of epic proportions.

I was CNN.com catching up on the latest news when I discovered that this "Super" committee to deal with our budget deficit decided it couldn't get its act together and come to an agreement. $1.2 TRILLION hangs in the balance and the officials we ELECTED sat around on Capitol Hill for 5 months arguing like pre-schoolers.

When I registered to vote, I marked Democrat on the party affiliation thing. And to be honest, I normally vote Democrat (expect for Blago... he was the exception). I come from a conservative background and some people I know would scoff at a Christian Democrat. I don't agree with all the Democrat party lines but I can't vote for a party that likes to give tax breaks to the wealthy and leave me whimpering every time I look at the tax taken out of my paycheck. And they also like to cut spending to programs for the poor... Can't do it. I have this super over-arching sense of wanting to help everyone. Republicans don't like to do that.

Now despite my normal devotion to the Democrats, I'm utterly ashamed that they're sitting on Capitol Hill blaming the Republicans. Even my bff Obama is blaming the Republicans. What every Congressman needs to do is pull out a mirror and look at it before placing blame. And you know something, as Americans we're to blame too. We ALL elected these people into office and then let them sit around and refuse to act like grown ups.

When they sat around back in June bickering about the overwhelming debt, we all just sat around and grumbled. Then Obama put together the super committee and maybe we felt a little better. Maybe the thought of sweeping cuts to everything (especially the defense budget) would get them to work together. Neither party liked the idea of sequestration so they should have done everything to avoid it. But they didn't.

And this Occupy Wall Street movement, why did it take so long? Where was this in June when this whole debacle started? Why did it take us SO long to start voicing our discontent? Have we really become this complacent with our government?

You want to what I think? I think we've become lazy with our politics. We let the machine run too long and we've run ourselves into the ground. We have no one to blame here but ourselves. Beware, my friends, America is finished as the no. 1 superpower because we can't even agree on budget cuts. If we can't solve our own problems, why should we be trusted to go to other nations and solve theirs? We can't.

And I know this seems doom and gloom. Maybe it won't come to that... maybe we can figure it out. Maybe the Occupy Wall Street movement will bring sweeping changes to the government. But I doubt it. We are so stuck in this age of bureaucracy and bickering that the only thing that will change it is complete revolution.

So here's my clever solution to all this: Congress needs to be rehauled. Completely replaced. Replace them with a normal, civilian group and then EVERYONE has to go through intensive Mr. Rogers training. I'm going to start a curriculum for new Congressional members and Mr. Rogers will be at the core. Because he knew how to act like an adult and treat each other fairly. He understood that we may not agree on everything but we can embrace the differences and work together. If Mr. Rogers can get it right, then why can't the rest of us? It's so amazingly simple. Sure, he made a kids television show but if Congress can't act like adults, then it works out perfectly. So yes, my solution to this whole problem after completely voting out Congress is Mr. Rogers. Because he got it right and let's be honest, we could all take a page from Mr. Rogers once in a while.

So after everyone attends my Mr. Rogers seminar, we put them through a worst case scenario simulation. If they can't solve their differences and be like Mr. Rogers, then they're gone. Plain and simple. Imagine how many headaches we could save ourselves if Congress actually took some of Mr. Rogers' advice to heart and started treating each other like good neighbors. And yes, every morning would start with the House and Senate meeting together in a Joint sessions and singing the familiar tune of the opening song. And yes, I'm deadly serious about all this. Got any other ideas? Because nothing else we've tried has worked.

My Real Life Santa

For those of you who haven't been following my Facebook posts, my grandfather, John William Traughber, died on Nov. 9, 2011. I've always said that God blessed me beyond compare when he gave me the family he did. We aren't perfect but we also understand that family means looking beyond each other's imperfections.

My grandparents: the world's greatest people

For my family, the death of my grandfather was a relief. He had been suffering for many months and he needed rest. My grandfather loved God and even became an ordained minister in later years, so he's in a place with no suffering or pain. He was greatly loved by my family and his presence will be sorely missed.

For me, the dealing with my grandfathers death over the next few weeks will be very difficult. I loved him very much and considered him one of the best men I will ever know. A grandchild always looks past their grandparents faults and as such, he was the epitome of perfection to me.

Now normally, I believe in holiday equality. Thanksgiving IS just an important as Christmas but in light of recent events, I'm foregoing that rule. And when you finish my blog, you'll understand why.

When I was a kid, I was convinced my grandfather was Santa. He even looked like Santa. He had the bushy white beard that was soft but tickled your cheek. He had the big tummy and even the twinkle in his eye. I was always passionate about my friends meeting my grandparents because then they'd get to know the real Santa too.

As I grew older, I still retained that child-like faith of Santa because to me, he was real. I got to see him every time I went to Decatur. When I about 12 or 13, my grandma admitted to me that my grandfather always ate the Christmas cookies we left out. Even though my sisters and I were all old enough not to believe in Santa, we still left cookies for my grandfather to eat. And my grandfather, in true Santa form, left us little notes on the cookie plate. Mostly "Yum, yum, yum" or "Be good."

But mostly, he remained Santa to me because he shared 3 of Santa's main traits: talent, commitment and jolliness. When I started thinking about writing my blog, I asked Zack who he though made the toys before the Elves came. He thought about it for a minute and said "Santa." For this to be true, Santa must be a very talented craftsmen. He would be an expert at woodworking, welding and the world's greatest artist. My grandfather equaled Santa's talent. He was a wonderful stained glass artist. After he retired, he traveled to different churches and did stained glass windows for them. One of my most prized possessions is a stained glass frog lamp he made me when I was a teenager. I also discovered shortly after his death that he once entered a citywide stained glass competition and placed 2nd.

He was also a very talented musician and loved music. Every church he ever joined, he immediately joined the choir. He sung with the deepest, richest bass voice that shook the earth when he sang. He loved Southern Gospel Music, especially the Gaithers and had EVERY single Gaither video ever released. He knew all the songs and although I thought the Gaithers were boring, I still enjoyed hearing him sing. He is also the only person I've ever met who plays the dulcimer. Still not sure what it is but it sounds epic.

Santa was also very committed. Once he started delivering presents, there was no turning back for him. Think about what a huge commitment Christmas is. He spends 364 days preparing for one night. He organizes the elves, reindeer and has to make sure to get home to Mrs. Claus at some point. When my grandfather married my grandmother in 1961, he made that Santa-like commitment to her. When she entered the TB sanitarium not 2 years later, he committed himself to caring for my aunt, dad, and uncle. He fed them, clothed them, and entertained them for 6 months. He even convinced the TB hospital officials to let them in so they could visit their mom.  He also showed that same commitment to his grandkids. There is not one drop of my grandfather's blood in my veins but that didn't matter to him. I was his granddaughter and he loved me as such.

To say my grandfather loved my grandma is a gross understatement. He adored her. During their courtship, he asked her to marry him every single day and I'm sure he meant it everyday too. My grandma often laughs about it and says, "I said no so much that when I actually said yes, he didn't hear me."  When she was in the TB hospital, my grandfather visited her twice a day, everyday. During his lunch break and after he got off of work. When she was admitted to the hospital in January, he visited her everyday. Often spending the whole day by her bedside. In June, my grandparents celebrated 50 years of marriage. His Santa-like commitment never wavered to his 5 kids and wife.

Santa is also known for his happy demeanor and jolly laugh. My grandfather loved to tell jokes and took delight in the corny. His jokes were often told repeatedly and became known in my house as "Grandpa John" jokes. Like his jokes, his humorous stories were told hundreds of times. And there were always new people to tell his stories too. My dad said at the funeral that my grandfather, "Never met a stranger." He talked to everyone and I truly believe he enjoyed seeing people smile. He would be your new best friend whether you liked it or not. And truthfully, it was probably pretty hard not to like him. He had a wonderful, friendly disposition that you couldn't hate. I know he didn't always smile and as he got sicker, he could be grumpy at times. But as his grandchild, I will always say, he was always smiling and the jolliest person I ever knew.

I read this blog entry at his funeral and it surprised me how many people after came up and told me that he was Santa to them too. Not only did he look like Santa, he acted like him too. As I was talking to my younger sister about this, she even said, "I thought he was Santa too!" I loved my grandfather very much and I will him miss more than words can ever say. My world was made that much brighter by his goodness and humor. And I expect Christmas will be a little sadder this year without my Santa. I will never forget my grandfather. And even if I wanted too, I don't think I could because Santa never truly dies. His laugh, like my grandfathers, is immortalized in 3 short words: Ho, ho, ho.

Friends Forever.

I've always believed God puts people in your life for a reason. In my lifetime, I've been particularly blessed with the friends I've had and the memories I've shared with those people. This has particularly been on my mind lately when I saw that my friend from EIU and her husband are expecting their first child (and I am very excited for them both!). In college, D and I shared many fond memories together. We played poker together on Monday nights my sophomore year, we t.p.'d my RA's door, we went to countless basketball games together, and if it wasn't for her... there's a good chance Zack and I may not be together. I credit her and Beth for teaching me how to effectively boo the other team at basketball games.

I could continue on about all the fun times we had together at college but I won't. And I'm sad that we've gone our separate ways and perhaps don't keep in touch very well. But I guess that's life.

I've had many best friends during my life and I still care about all them very deeply. Recently at work, I was told that I simply care too much about my employees. But that also follows being told I have an enormous heart. For some reason or other, God gave me this HUGE capacity to love everyone. 

I've always believed it to be one of my greatest strengths because all I really want to do is help people. It's that simple for me. My reason for living on this Earth is to help out the people I come into contact with. That's why I'll never make in corporate America because I am far too honest and care far too much about the people around me.

Tonight I was also able to catch up with an old friend of mine from church, Jessie. She's currently working as a missionary in southeast Asia doing research. I've been following all her newsletters and e-mails and I pray for her every day. Like D and I, my friendship with Jessie has shared very fond memories. We coached the church's JBQ team together, went on countless missions trips/retreats/conventions together, and so many other memories. Jessie made my faith in God stronger and always lifted my spirits with her laughter and boundless energy. She has invited me to see her speak at a church around Chicago when she returns to the states in December. I'm very excited and cannot wait to see her again.

So I guess the point of my blog tonight is that if you were ever a close friend of mine, you're still very important to me. I know our paths may have split and gone separate ways. Heck, we may not have a single thing in common anymore (even though part of me wishes we did). And even if your world falls apart and everyone else runs off, I never will. I have this fault of being desperately loyal and once you've gained it, it never waivers.

I have this dream of one day being best friends with everyone again. Learning about what you're up to and where life has taken you. We probably once said best friends forever and when I said it, I meant it. If we never speak again, then it's ok but I will always cherish the friendship we shared for the rest of my life.

So thank you for allowing me to be your friend. I won't list you all because that will take forever. I have MANY people that I would consider close friends.I will consider you all my friends until the day I die (whether you like it or not). And to end my blog... I end with this fun video from Youtube. Just remember... you've got a friend in me.

Candy W(Rappers).... ???

I have to say first and foremost, I am so SAD Steve Jobs died. I am both a lover of Apple computers and Pixar so I feel the world has lost a huge force in the fields of technology and creativity. I bought my first Mac, named Machiavelli, right as I entered college in 2006. The thing is a beast! Five years later and it still runs like the day I pulled it out of the box. Eventually one day I will have to replace it because I can no longer update the software. It's sadly far away from me in the great state of Missouri on loan to the youngest Burge, as she soon will finish her first semester of college. I immediately knew that I would never own another PC. Now Zack and I argue on this but he can live with his stinkin' Dell. Apple is 100 times better!

I actually do remember watching Toy Story in theaters. I think I was only 7 at the time but I remember it being super awesome! Who doesn't imagine their toys actually having lives of their own? I used to pretend to fall asleep at night and tell my toys I was doing it so I could catch them in the act. The only Pixar movie I have not seen in theaters was Monsters, Inc. When the movie comes out each summer, I put it at the TOP of my priority list of must-see summer blockbusters. I wish I could pick a favorite Pixar movie but I really can't. It's like trying to tell which part of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup is better: Peanut Butter or Chocolate? I would have to argue that's its one of those questions like "How many licks does it take to get the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop?" You will never know the answer because it's different every time.

I could go on talking about how Steve Jobs changed my life but CNN does it so well. But while I was reading his obituary in the entertainment section, I came across this fascinating article on one of their entertainment blogs. The title reads... "Method Man raps about Sour Patch Kids." Yep... I had the same reaction.

It is, naturally, for an upcoming promotion but Method Man, who is part of the Wu-Tang Clan (a rap group), actually came out with a legit song AND a music video. The song is 3:28 and yes, the Sour Patch Kids candies do actually appear in the music video along with the whole Wu-Tang Clan and a dancing video girl.

I was so curious I watched the music video and was surprised, the song isn't too bad. I wouldn't go download it or anything but for a song about candy... it's better that what I expected. Some of the lyrics are pretty catchy. My favorite line is "They'll throw bleach in your laundry and then fold your origami."

I also enjoy eating Sour Patch Kids so now that the song worked and I want to go out and buy some, I'll do what the song says and "Shut up and eat 'em up."

The Webs We Weave: A Halloween Soap Opera

I have just gotten through what may be the longest day of my entire life. It wasn't due to job stress or crazy co-workers or even overbearing boss... no it was due to the drama. My job has turned into one ginormous soap opera with all the drama coming at me from every possible angle. We can't do anything without there being some form of drama and for the next couple of paragraphs, I will confuse you with a number of plot twists, rip your heart out with tear-jerking sadness and give the story no real good ending because every good soap opera never truly ends. It just continues on an endless cycle of insanity. I've changed all the names to protect my butt but it's also a lot of fun.

It all started one week ago when my district manager, named Francisco, went to Wisconsin because his uncle died of cancer. We weren't really sure what we were doing yet with the whole store situation but we extended our condolences and let Francisco leave in peace. We chose not to bother him during his time of grief and turned our many hundred questions to his boss, whom we shall call Jane Lynch.

Now Jane Lynch is a very formidable character. She requires everything to be done a certain way and will not give any room for variation and does not keep an open door policy. You may give her your ideas but I can guarantee you that Jane Lynch will never listen. So Jane Lynch gave us very strict direction on what needed to be done and sent in another district manager to help cover for Francisco.

The other district manager immediately saw our stores were in a total state of disarray. He came in and immediately got us going on the right track.  None of us had any idea what we were doing in terms of hanging up merchandise, putting together elaborate halloween displays or even hanging up the snap walls correctly. This started poor Francisco on a long road the would ultimately lead to his untimely doom.

Now fast forward to last Thursday, when Francisco returns from Wisconsin and meets with us all to see our progress. By this point, we are all exhausted and my store manager, named Pierre the Frenchman, was at his wits end. Pierre was super sick but still came in to work because Jane Lynch told him he couldn't miss a day of work until after the store was ready to open. But Pierre's condition was made worse by the fact that he wasn't working on his store. Oh no... Pierre had spent countless hours coaching, building and repairing another manager's store because Francisco hadn't been around to pick up the keys of Pierre's store. And Pierre was ticked and it was obvious.

With Francisco back at the helm and the other district manager driving 3 long hours back to his region, we continued our hurried effort to open the store. Pierre went home early on Thursday to catch up on sleep and prepare for his long battle the next morning at his own store. Friday was very uneventful because all I and the other people did was hang merchandise.

There were whispers among us that the co-manager at Pierre's (my) store, named Zeida, was being transferred to a new store in the wonderful world of Skokie. But Francisco could neither confirm nor deny this because he was AWOL. Poor Francisco suffered further heart break when his own father, just days after the loss of a beloved uncle, went into the hospital only to discover he had a cancerous tumor.

While my Friday was considerably boring, Pierre (who was still very ill) got hit in the head with a box and had to unload 3 enormous semi trailers full of merchandise. Pierre had enough of all this and wrote quitely simply on a piece of printer paper, "To Spirit- I quit!! Pierre the Frenchman." He left Zeida a voicemail telling her the Schaumburg store was now hers and she would no longer hear from him.

In the beautiful village of Buffalo Grove, everything came to a shattering halt with the news that our beloved Pierre the Frenchman had raised his white flag. Everyone was in shock. We must have sat around for 15 minutes just talking about how Pierre could have betrayed us all.

Zeida thought it was a conspiracy. Francisco had wanted to rid himself of Pierre the Frenchman forever. She knew that Francisco and Pierre did not get along and were constantly fighting for control of the troops. But I became worried. My store was supposed to have 2 managers and 2 assistants. We were down 1 manager and the other assistant still hadn't been named. Would I be thrown into the position of power? Would I ascend to Pierre's throne of managerdom? Only time would tell.

But Francisco was in no shape to celebrate his glory because as far as we knew, he was at the hospital. Unfortunately no one had heard from him. He wouldn't return phone calls or text messages. Jane Lynch came bounding back into the picture and introduced us to Hogan, the incredible Hulk. Hogan is a short, fat man with no sense of humor and whose language would make even the filthiest sailor blush.

I never met Hogan until about 4:30 p.m. today. Zeida, me and another sales associate met at Schaumburg to take over the long list Pierre never completed. We had an easy day with Zeida. We painted and put together some merchandise racks. THEN came the dreaded phone call none of us saw coming.

Francisco was schedule to meet with Jane Lynch, Hogan and the other district manager this morning to discuss what his situation was. But he never showed up. Instead, he went to the Jewish bakery next door to the intended meeting place and called Jane Lynch. To her, this was completely unacceptable and went next door to the Bakery to tell him he was fired.

When Jane Lynch called Zeida, we knew something had gone down. There was talk of firing the Buffalo Grove store manager, who goes by Franz, because apparently Hogan didn't like him. The third and final store in our region was completely shut down due to fire code violations and that store manager, named Betty Boop, was shipped off to somewhere far, far away. Jane Lynch said it was only a miracle that kept Betty Boop was getting the same phone call as Francisco.

So Jane Lynch informs us that Hogan is now our district manager and he will arrive later the afternoon to check on the status of the store. In the meantime, we are supposed to keep working to make sure we can get the store open by this Saturday. We haven't even finished constructing the store yet.

By this point Zeida was beyond ticked, she was hungry and super thirsty because she was broke. We were supposed to get paid on Friday BUT the FedEx man who was supposed to deliver our checks didn't show. Someone called FedEx and they said Saturday. Well, FedEx man drives past the building and attempts to look into the building from his truck. Not seeing any signs of occupancy, he drives off assuming the store was abandoned. Had he taken the time to get out of the truck, he would met Jane Lynch and a very perturbed Zeida.

So FedEx says Monday between 9-11. Monday came... no FedEx. So Zeida calls Hogan, who calls FedEx and spends the next 10 minutes cursing at the lady on the other end. The lady calls the courier and 5 minutes later we have our paychecks. Hogan tells us not to worry any more because he is the Incredible Hulk and will turn green, ugly and mean when things go wrong.

Hogan also tells us that he was in this situation two years ago when he took over another store and fired the manager and 2 assistants the first day. I looked at him and cowered in fear. He may be shorter and fatter than me but he is one man I do not want to cross. The whole turning green thing creeps me out.

Then Hogan discovers that neither me or my manager have been trained and immediately ships us off to be trained tomorrow on everything. Tomorrow I have the pleasure of working with M.J., also known as Mary Jane or Peter Parker's girlfriend.

Hogan also informed me quite abruptly that in no way during this lifetime would I become store manager. He only wanted one store manager and was going to do everything in his power to make it stayed that way. And that was perfectly fine with me. After all the drama of the last week, I will stay an assistant.

Hogan also told us that if we didn't have fun and we were automatically fired. And he was seriously... deadly serious. He said he once fired all the employees from a store because they weren't having enough fun. I hard core believe him. Anyone who turns ugly and green is someone you should totally believe.

So that my friends is the beginning of the unending saga, the Webs We Weave: A Halloween Soap Opera. All the events listed in my story are fact even in the names are false. I hope you're satisifyingly confused... because I know I am. Boy, I love my job!!!!!