TMI

WARNING: This post is about an experience I just finished having with a hot pepper eaten last night. If you don't want to know about the workings of my digestion track, you have probably already read too much.

That said, the reason for this post is because we all have painful bowel movements and I'm not ashamed to share mine with the world via the internets. Last night, Eric, Robin and myself went to a local favorite restaurant Asado for some yummy dinner.

As we hungrily read the menu, Eric was reminded of a particularly delicious appetizer they served - the Jalapeno poppers. Now, these aren't your typical popper. They are an entire jalapeno, stuffed with a creamy mixture of sour cream, bacon and onion, then deep fried to perfection. Four of them came on a plate and the dipping sauce was a thick blue cheese concoction. Trust me, they were amazing. Oh my god. They were so good. So creamy, so flavorful, so, so, HOT AS HELL.

Tears poured down my cheeks from the high concentration of acid and heat. I couldn't stop eating it, even though my body begged me to do so. My tongue soon lost the ability to distinguish between tastes. We motioned to the server for water in a typical this-pepper-is-fucking-hot-as-shit-holy-shit-I-might-die-HOLY-SHIT manner, "Watah... bwa. Watah!", waving hysterically towards our table. She smirked and produced three tumblers filled with water. By that time, the scorching had subsided and we were free to finish our own thoughts again.

The night was capped with Sakitinis and a viewing of Blades of Glory, which far exceeded my expectations. We talked and visited, all the while laughing gaily (especially Eric). Unbeknown to me at the time, that pepper was far from finished with its punishment. In fact, what happened to my mouth was only a taste of the power this ONE pepper was about to unleash.

I slept peacefully through the night; no leaping from the bed to deal with an eruption. This morning, however, was a different story. My usual routine involves waking up, getting up, using the potty and taking a shower. From the moment I sat on the toilet, my bowels clenched and I knew something was about to happen. My entire body flushed red. My intestines burned red hot and I knew I was in for an unpleasant experience.

15 minutes passed, my body clenching and quaking from the heat, reeling in agony, sitting upright, bending over and clenching my feet. As it exited my body, the toxic waste evaporated the water on contact, a sulfurous odor filled the air. Was I dying? Why is it burning so much? Why can I feel my entire intestinal track? Was that my LIVER?!

This bout with my bowels utterly wrecked my morning schedule. While I do use the potty and sometimes it takes 5 minutes, this morning's marathon was an unwelcome addition to the morning rush. The contractions finally subsided enough for me to hop off the potty and into the shower. Now at a breakneck pace, I was furiously ironing my shirt, threw on my clothes, didn't even eat breakfast, and off I went.

By this time, I thought the battle was finished. I felt a calm, cooling sensation rush over my belly; surely a sign that the worst was over. As if to say "FUCK YOU", my body started heating up again on the bus. I was still 7 minutes away from campus and I was sitting on an atomic bomb. To make matters worse, the bus drops me off on the opposite end of campus from the law school. At a good clip, it takes 10 minutes to walk there. I couldn't wait. I ran across the street and into the basement of the bookstore. There, on an unsuspecting toilet did I unleash Round Two of the jalapeno saga.

I twisted and turned from the sensation of needles puncturing my insides. The spicy odor once again filled the air and I knew that if anyone else came in, they would hopefully turn and run before they asphyxiated from the stench. The bowel movements were more severe this time, sputtering and lurching like a hose under too much water pressure. I remained in control, though I think I passed out for a minute or so.

Now almost late for work, I ran across campus. I couldn't tell whether or not the jalapeno had run its course. There was no cooling sensation this time but even if there was, I wouldn't have trusted it. I made it to work on time and sat to go through my email. Just when I least suspected it, my body flushed.

I leaped from my chair and towards the main door of the library. In a cruel twist of engineering, the bathrooms for our floor are located half way down the building. I whimpered as I knew I couldn't make an ass of myself careening towards the stall. Instead, I stood upright, clenched my buttocks and pretended like everything was just peachy keen. Bowel movement? What bowel movement? Japaleno poppers? Why, I barely remember them...

Inside the bathroom the third and thankfully final round of the jalapeno saga raged with unbridled fury. In a spectacular display, I was practically blown off the toilet due to the sheer force with which the jalapeno was making its final approach. I quickly braced myself against the front door of the stall, determined to rid my body of this evil force. The smell threatened to choke the consciousness right out of me but I held on, determined to finish what I started. My eyes watered, my head burned. I was certain nothing was left of my intestines. It was worth it! No regrets! GAAAAAA!!!

And then it was over. Somehow I knew it was all over. I washed my hands, walked outside and the sun was beaming down through the skylight. As if god itself were speaking, a voice from inside the bathroom then yelled, "HOLY SHIT!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SMELL??!!"

All is right with the world.

Customer Service Training

An email went out to all library personnel that they were to attend a mandatory meeting yesterday that would review customer service. I hope the irony is already swirling around your head, as (let's face it) many librarians have the same attitude as your local DMV worker. Unlike other offices I have worked in, what the library staff as a whole lacks in gossipy bullcrap is more than made up for with social ineptitude. Some might find their direct communication style refreshing, as you certainly can't accuse the librarians of wasting your time with chit chat. That said, their "directness" has recently come under fire and the peeps in power decided it would be good to remind them of some simple Do's and Do Not Do's of basic customer service:

Do
Acknowledge people with a word or nod
Make eye contact
Ask May I help you?
Listen to what they are saying

Do Not Do
Ignore people
Sigh or roll your eyes
React angrily to their questions

My favorite is, of course, "react angrily to their questions". I would love to see one of the library staff just lose their shit and get all nasty with a student or client. Another piece to the presentation were sections utilizing ridiculous examples, script style, which were not only hard to follow as there was only one speaker, but they were also lame (provided is one of the actual "anger" examples I took notes on):

Librarian: Can I help you?

Student: Yes, I was looking for a book.

Librarian: Do you know what book?

Student: Well, I was reading from an article in my class, it was an article by Robert Smith, but I can't remember the book.

Librarian: (frustrated) Can you remember the title of the article?

Student: No

Librarian: (screaming) WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD LEARN HOW TO WRITE THINGS DOWN SO YOU WOULD KNOW WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR!!!!!!!!!!

We also learned that students, staff, faculty and other community members are all the same! A member is a member, no matter who they are. Diversity rules! So, we have to treat all our members the same. In my mind, this means that somewhere along the line, some librarian somewhere was taking a member's ID card and said something like:

Librarian: Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Johnson. We can't help you.

Mr. Johnson: (community member, looking around confused): But, I have a membership here. All I want is to know where the journals are kept.

Librarian (quietly sneering): Yes, but you see I can't help you.

Mr. Johnson: Why is that?

Librarian (leaning closer): Mr. Johnson, we don't help your "kind".


A little customer service refresher is good for everyone from time to time. But taking a bunch of grown adults and giving them a customer service lecture obviously geared towards sales clerks and, well, customer service support specialists was a hilarious waste of time. My boss and peer were seated on either side of me and we all got a nasty case of the church giggles through the presentation, and especially during the video.

We watched a video in which a male actor, let's call him Phil, chewed the scenery while fantasizing about different scenarios in which he either had bad or good customer service. Set in a diner, his primary example was a loud-mouthed, hospitable southern woman of generous size. She zipped all over the restaurant, talking to folks and serving them while Phil pointed out how much he loved the place. "That's Mary," he said at one point far too articulately, "the food's okay, but I come here because of her. Just look at her!" Mary, in an equally scenery chewing performance, was basically yelling at the other actors, "Y'ALL WANT SOMMORE HAESHBROWNS?!?! (To an exiting couple) Y'ALL COME BACK NOW, 'YA HEAR?!?!" At one moment in the presentation, Phil talked of the importance for people in customer service situations to use the customer's name. If my bank, who has all of my most sensitive information uses my name, that's cool. I mean, they can look at my social security number for pete's sake. But if my local librarian says "thank you Mr. Moore" not because she knows me but because she read it off my membership card, I will leave the library totally creeped out.

Aside from all the over-the-top examples Phil gave was the fact that the sugary sweet kind of customer service he was explaining would hopefully not be found in a library. People aren't there to chat. They're not there to socialize. They're there to study and research particularly in a university library. If every time I checked out a book for my thesis and the student assistant said, "How's the research going, Mr. Moore?", I would be inclined to give them a bewildered head tilt, not feel placated by their false attempt at sincerity.

iPhone Madness!!!

Robin and I were talking this weekend and he came up with a fabulous idea. He wanted to go and buy an iPhone. We had spoken a while back about this, but since that time, I saw several demo videos and commercials. Because of that, I couldn't stomach the thought of only one of us having an iPhone. So, I said honestly, "Okay, but you realize we have to get two. I will get really cranky if you're walking around with your iPhone and I only have my Samsung." Robin sighed, knowing that I was absolutely correct.

My threat was perhaps a bit toddler-ish (and true!), but it was effective. It also meant that Robin had to somehow justify us dropping [insert ludicrous sum of money for two phones here] on two iPhones instead of one, and he did so by making these our five year anniversary presents to one another. The only justification I needed was in having an iPhone. Yay! Our actual anniversary is on October 15th, but hell. Why wait when you can buy now? We're such good consumers! Trickle down, money! Trickle down!!

When we pulled into AT&T to buy our little trifles, Robin first wanted to play with the ones they had sitting out on display. Fine with me. I knew the only thing that could happen was that Robin would want them more. We held the perfect little devices in our hands, picked them up and from the moment the screen turned on, we were giggling. The hype is real. Oh god, it is SO real.

10 minutes later and we were on our way with our new 8 Gig iPhones. It only took one minute to buy them; the other nine was spent playing on the store's iPhones until I said, "Why the hell are we standing here? We can play with ours at home!" And play we did. Over the past two days, Robin and I have been adding our favorite music, videos and pictures. Robin also made a bunch of ring tones and individualized the hell out of his. I programmed the moon with mine.

On my way to work this morning I had my iPhone out and as I was flipping through my music ready to board the bus, I realized that I could watch Youtube videos if I wanted. And watch I did. At least I haven't let this go to my head. I mean, I could have very easily made sure others on the bus could see my new techno sexiness, but I sat in the back and watched the video to myself. Ah, life is good.

One more thing: if you're thinking I'm selfish and materialistic and have no sense of obligation to those less fortunate all because I wanted a fancy new trinket, I'm going to assume you don't have an iPhone ;)

LA LA LAnd

The past 11 days were a whirlwind. We left on the 2nd to visit Robin's family for a few days. Then, to make matters crazier, my family (minus Chris, who we missed terribly) flew down to spend five days in Disneyland.

Robin's SoCal family is great. His aunt and uncle live in Torrance, along with his cousins. His grandfather and stepgrandmother live in Redondo Beach. At his aunt and uncle's home, we swam in the pool, ate delicious food and had a spectacular time. We took a trip to the Getty Villa, which was astounding. Hooray for rich people that share their wealth and art! There is no admission price, save the $8 to park your car. The Getty family purchased something like 60 acres on a hill overlooking the ocean in Malibu. If you've been to Malibu, you know that real estate is prime, so basically you have all these ginormous homes stacked on top of one another (except the filthy stinking rich who can afford more property). The Getty Villa is truly special, for there aren't homes surrounding it. You feel completely isolated and if you focus on the Cyprus trees and travertine enough, you just might feel like you're in Italy. The center focuses only on antiquities: sculptures, jewelry, furniture and anything besides painting in the Etruscan, Greek and Roman cultures. If you're in the area, you really need to spend the 2 hours it takes to walk through and visit the Getty Villa. Oh, and their restaurant is phenomenal. Wow. SO good and not too bad on the wallet.

On Tuesday, Robin and I got our first taste of some really well crafted California Pinot Noir! We had lunch in Redondo Beach with his grandparents and drank a luscious Babcock Pinot Noir. California Pinots I knew by reputation but had never actually tasted one that impressed me. That changed on Tuesday. They are so different from Oregon Pinot Noirs in that they're really jammy and packed full of earthiness. Contrast this to Oregon Pinot Noirs which are more delicate and certainly not as dark and you have two different styles of one varietal both of which are fantastic. I love Pinot Noir. Love. It.

On Wednesday, we bid adieu to his family but not after a trip to the South Coast Plaza, a humongous mall in Costa Mesa. This mall is freaking unbelievable. We didn't even scratch the surface of stores because all we wanted to do was hit up H&M, which we did with formidable success. H&M, for those that don't know, is like the IKEA of clothing stores. Totally cool stuff for totally inexpensive prices. I even got out of paying sales tax because I thought being from Oregon made me exempt from the 8%. Turns out it doesn't, but the manager in H&M didn't care and just subtracted the sales tax. The thing about H&M's is, however, that they only go into hugely dense populations. I'd be surprised if one goes to Portland. Maybe Seattle. While shopping in the South Coast Plaza, I was reminded how truly over-the-top some of those SoCal malls can be. Gucci, anyone? Fendi perhaps? Maybe some Christian Dior? Though I find fashion extremely interesting and artful (sometimes), I have no interest in being stared down by anorexic store clerks who know I have neither the desire nor the cash to buy their overpriced wares.

Then came Disneyland. Wednesday night saw us dining in Downtown Disney with my parents, and we were later joined by Bonnie and Bryan (Bonnie's bf) who drove all the way from Eugene. We had a delicious dinner at Tortilla Joe's, replete with yummy sangria. Then the marathon of Disney began. FIVE DAYS. Thursday through Monday were our Disney days and let me tell you, five days is too much for this little bunny. My legs were totally giving out on me by day 4 and my attitude showed it. Robin reminded me to check it and thank Jebus he did.

Disneyland and California Adventure are really fun and really out of this world. The rides are great, the shows are spectacular, and overall, one would be hard pressed not to have a good time. If anything else, watching the little kids scurry around could give you hours of entertainment. Of course, I don't know why one would pay $83 (price of ONE DAY admission in the park) to sit and watch little kids. Unless, of course, you're some kind of creep. Or a Republican senator.

Let me tell you, it's good to be back. SO GOOD. I don't mind LA for a time, but after day five, I start to hate it. It's really, truly disgusting there. The people have sticks up their asses all the time, trying to get anywhere is a huge pain, and the air quality, well let's just say there's a reason not too many plants can survive there. Sitting in my office, I'm happy to look out on a cloudy but green and lush day. I can breathe deep and not start to cough. Holy crap, I can drink the tap water! All in all, it was a great vacay, but I'm in no hurry to go back.