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10:28 p.m. - July 19, 2002 Yesterday I was making toast, and I took some slices of bread out of the Schwebel's bag, and I was horrified at the squishiness of the bread. Eew. Granted, I didn't eat a lot of breads from the bakery in Germany, but even the sliced bread I bought at the grocery store was firm and had a definite non-spongy texture. I think I want to go and buy myself a load of french bread or something that doesn't make me feel like I'm biting into a wet sponge. At least toasting the bread made it a bit more bearable by drying it out somewhat. I was sort of surprised by this; I didn't think I really would care one way or another about the bread. My friend, Jill, tells me that she likes her bread squishy. I'm horrified. If only she knew how good and dense German bread is! In other readjusting news...I think I forgot that you can make a right turn on a red light here in Ohio. I was sitting at the red light and a car behind me honks. Gee. And he wasn't making a right turn, either... At work, I'm still adjusting, trying to remember codes and buttons for different functions on the cash register. A customer today asked me how it was in Germany. It's funny, but I always--or at least at the beginning of this year--thought that I'd have a great time answering these questions about my Germany experience. But now I just feel really funny doing so. Is this just being weird or something else? I don't know. I also had one of those insane moments of klutziness today. I went to Acme to buy myself a frozen dinner. I managed to buy a Swanson meal with fried chicken (which I was dying for), and it was cheap, so I got it. I was sitting at the desk in the back room, starting in on my dinner. Ate a few bites of my chicken, some green beans, and some corn, a couple bites of mashed potatoes. I'm cutting a piece of the chicken, and the next thing I know, my tray of food is upended, sitting on my lap, warm food dribbling through my pant legs and splattered on the floor. I manage to get the food off me, but my pants look horrible. I was so furious because (1) I look stupid, (2) it's so uncomfortable, and (3) I really wanted fried chicken tonight. My mom sent me home to get changed. Since it was 8 PM, she told me to just go ahead and stay home, because the store closes at 9 PM anyway. I did enventually start laughing over this, after getting over my annoyance. So now my pants are in the washing machine, along with my uniform vest...yes, I got a bit of food on it too... I ate a bagel for dinner. We don't have much in the way of raw ingredients, and definetely no fried chicken. I'm thinking of bringing an apron or extra pants to work tomorrow. Oh, something I forgot. A Beanie Baby customer came in today (no matter how much she looks at other stuff, she never buys anything). She is looking for Beanies. She tells me, "I have 500 Beanie Babies. I used to buy two of each, one for me and one to keep. But now I buy one of each." I think that's a good move. But why do you want 500 Beanie Babies? This makes no sense to me. I mean, I work in a gift shop, and I see these things all the time but I've never been compelled to collect them outright. I mean, I have some Beanies, but maybe like ten of them or something. I buy them because I like certain ones (maybe like because it's my favorite animal, has my birthday, makes me think of Germany? and others are sentimental gifts from others...but 500 Beanies?) She's disappointed that the lady who writes the Beanie Baby book, listing resale values of Beanies, is no longer writing them. Thoughtfully, she added, "I really like that Beanie Baby cookbook...I bought two of 'em. One for me, and one to keep." I smile and try not to make a sarcastic comment. She continues, "My kids get so mad at me. They say, 'Mom, why do you have to get two of everything?' 'Because I like it!'" She left, and the door swung closed. I looked at Loretta, who was working today, and we laughed. "Two. One to use and one to keep?" says Loretta, "If I used one, I'd keep it..." Amen, sister...
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