What's in a name?

A lot.

Just ask the DiMera's or the Kiriakas.' In Salem, USA those names go far, their power reaches well beyond Chez Rouge, The Port of Salem and the Brady Pub. All you have to mention is one of those names and you're either in, or you're in trouble. All depends on your audience.

Take a name like Conquistador. It's a noun, profession! You decide to name your kid that, and he's got to be some sort of major player in the game of life. Of course, probably not in the US. Can you imagine an executive in a Fortune 500 company with a name like that? It's like Oranjello or Lemonjello, just isn't serious enough. But maybe he could thrive in a Latin land, he most certainly would. But then if your name is Conquistador and you virtually suck, you have no job, no car, maybe you're a convicted felon, you're not allowed to see your kid, your idea of the jackpot is a "woman" who needs prescriptive assistance to get out of bed, ha, you really have no choice but to change your name, don't you? In this case, maybe that's called an alias, and it's on file with the county.

What about a name like Towar, sounds like tower. Another noun, though misspelled, so it doesn't count. I know a guy, that's his name. He's my dad and it's his real, true, birth name. He was the second born of 3, with an older brother named Malcolm and a younger sister named Lisa. Yep, he got Towar. Now imagine a kid heading off to kindergarten and making new friends. What a big, funny name for a little, tiny boy. In 7th grade a classmate of mine was attempting to set up a sleepover and needed my phone number. 411...well she asked for Vilas, Towar and the operator said she was certain Cleveland was the wrong city and that particular tower was in Chicago. Well it's a super-cool name now, though there were likely some touch-and-go years way back when.

Let's talk about Stuart.
Preppy, strong, formal. So I'm talking to my uncle (Chip) and he's telling me about Stuart. I'm like....what, all confused like. Then he said Stuart is a woman. OK....

We have some ooddball ones in the fam for sure. Cocky, Frat, Bing, Chip, as I mentioned, oh there is one really wackadoo one but I can't remember and my dad's phone is busy, dang! He still uses a phone line for the internet, can you imagine?

At work some ladies decided to rename some of us based on our personalities, I guess. It appears our parents messed up. And I agree now that I know mine. I love my new work name even though I don't know yet whether it will be used for good or evil. It's Mallory, I will go by Mal, like Mallory Keaton on Family Ties. She was so cool, so fashionable. Like me?

Names can make or break you. Not too many CPAs named Candi or attorneys named Ziggy. Your name certainly determines a good amount of your path. I thought it would have been nice to have had the millenium baby. That kid and his parents got a lot of cool prizes and I think he's set for life. If I had I wanted to name him The Whistler. No one would ever mess with The Whistler, and no one would ever forget him either. No millenium baby though. He would be in 4th grade now, zoinks!

A few housekeeping items. Shaker would not budge on the sidewalk and did not feel it appropriate for me to pay $2 per month until it was paid off. A lost, though valiant battle.

And I never called Mario's back. Though I convinced at least one person not to go there.

I would like to give a shout out to some lovely ladies celebrating their birthday's this weekend. Happy 30th Birthday Laura! Happy 25th Birthday's to Morgan and Krostana! Hope you all have a grrrreat weekend.

Today I called a spa...

...well actually, I called several. I was on a mission. I thought I had all the answers, I thought I had completed the appropriate level of due diligence. However, when I called back to lay down the cash, well, let’s just say, Mario’s is officially out of the question for this visit and any other future consideration.

A week or so ago I found Mario’s and spoke with the lovely Pam or Pat. I wrote her name down but I didn’t have those notes with me today and I just couldn’t remember which it was. I do recall that she was very nice and very helpful; she had all the answers I needed and gave me a ton of detail around my inquiry.

I called back today to set it up, and I was super-lucky (NOT) to get Dude on the line. I threw that NOT in there to emote sarcasm.

I asked to speak with Pam or Pat, and to my surprise, he said neither was at work today. Now, I said Pam or Pat because I couldn’t remember her name, what are the odds people with these names would both work there? Well Dude said they aren’t on any type of commission system for sales, so I proceeded to verify the details as I had remembered. Dude cut me off mid-sentence twice, put me on hold once and was clearly busy doing something else. The last straw was when he asked for my name, I told him Lindsay, and he said to me, “no, I just need your last name” in this little obnoxious tone. How do you know Lindsay isn’t my last name, and seriously Dude, in this economy when people are cutting back on spa treatments, don’t ya think you would wanna be semi-pleasant? We expect some level of snobbery from this industry, but this was, I’m going to just say it, obscene!

I paused for a sec and took a breath. The normal Lindsay would have proceeded to lay in to him and let him have it as any proud garbage-mouth would, maybe he would even cry, but he lucked out. I was at work in close proximity to peers, bosses, managers and others with watchful eyes and hawk-like ears. Additionally, in the spirit of lent, (I’m not Catholic but I love a challenge), I gave up swearing this f-in’ morning because it certainly wasn’t going to be chocolate, sweets, pizza, or anything good. I didn’t want to be doomed to failure before I even put my head on my pillow tonight. And swearing is something I should really check. My co-workers were all doing it, so I thought what the hizzle! So with Dude, I was quite polite and let him know that he was clearly having a very bad day and that I would just call back.

He hung up, that was that. He just hung up.

So I debate, do I make this known to the higher-ups at Mario’s. Normally I would as customer service is very important and the art has clearly been lost. But I don’t want anything from them, no prize, no discount, and it’s not like they would fire him over it. What to do, what to do? Will consider throughout the day…

I wonder what Snooki would do?

Did you know, like Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino, Snooki has submitted to trademark her name? Mike’s abs are the actual Situation, Mike the man, the human, isn’t. That is beyond lame but ever so awesome at the same time.

Speaking of trademarking, I wanted to trademark the word “wackadoo,” but I’m afraid I'm too late. I used to say it all the time and it started spreading like wildfire. My boss said it once and she’s really not the type. Then while watching Kell on Earth last night, I heard Kelly Cutrone say it at least 3 times. I know it got to her via me; I just need to figure out how! But if she can coincidentally bump into the very dog that she gave up for adoption years ago, I can surely find our wackadoo connection.

Still no word from Shaker on the sidewalk inquiry. Will keep you posted!

Milka what?!

Like many others I hunkered down last night to watch the Superbowl with seven layer dip minus two and some lofty hopes. My team didn't win, but early on I could tell they never even had a chance. They weren't playing.

My second choice to win was Indianapolis because I think that Manning fella seems so nice, so down to earth, not like one of those guys who makes gagillions and does the windmill whenever he scores.

I like break dancing, I love it, I wish I could do it, but I would never bust into the worm just for doing my job. That would be a sight. Ha! Now that I think about it, maybe we should dance more often in public. It's something to consider. How bout this, I will if you do, but you go first.

I made sure to catch the commercials last night. I don't know if I've seen 10 commercials since I switched to DVR some 3 years ago but there were a few good ones. I have to say, that Hyundai they're pushing is looking pretty hot (still a Hyundai though), something I just can't get behind, but I had two fave's of the evening.

My hubby and I enjoy that E*TRADE baby stuff. Who wouldn't love to see a baby talking finance? He loves the one where that baby talks about flexing the golden pipes, but last night, oh last night, they introduced Lindsay in the mix! That jealous little baby trying to call Lindsay out, look little baby, he's just not into you. So what if Lindsay knows how to have fun and get down...you're gonna paint her a milkaholic! Please. Your game is so obvious. That is such a turnoff and he has moved on.

Then there was the Google commercial. Waterworks-city. Going from a fluke impulse to study abroad, to long-distance dating, to marriage, to a baby on the way...that commercial was simple and stellar and I loved it.

No work for me today, I needed a me day to catch my breath. I am gearing up for my morning challenge. I am attempting to negotiate paying less for the installation of some sidewalk in front of my house that was done in June. I think the city thought, let's bill the people at tax refund time and we won't get any squeaky wheels, BUT since I get to owe even more taxes than expected (because of Shaker and their funny ways) I don't have the money to give them. Maybe they will repossess my sidewalk! That would be something.

Motivated by a skiing Snoopy pin

I got home from work today and was not going to post. It was like one thing after another tonight, including some wild adventures.

I had to drop off the lil Nugget at the car dealership on the westside AGAIN, even though their policy is door-to-door pick up and delivery. She needed her 35,000 mile check-up.

Then I had to stop at Walgreens because I desperately needed foamy ear plugs to counter my husbands horrific snoring problem in the hope that one day soon I would sleep again. My husband is Bear, my tenderoni. Of course, I was suckered into purchasing a lovely lip gloss, unsalted peanuts and Dots.

Having spent more time and money in Walgreens than planned, I huffed out to the loaner and realize that I had been overcharged for the flirty gloss! A whole $0.50! I had to go back, on principal, you know? This was not the first time this had happened at said location. They often have HUGE SALES with REDUCED PRICES ALL OVER THE STORE but their trick is not to actually adjust those prices on the UPC codes 100% of the time and hope the customer doesn't notice. Well, they don't know me!

So the cashier has to call a manager on the store intercom for help. She used a special code to describe the reason she was asking for assistance. I wondered, could it stand for, "you won't believe it but someone is actually standing here and plans on staying until she is refunded her whole $0.50." I'm not paranoid, Toyota had a code language. The code for me was "Customer is not a friend," I saw it once on their computer screen. Don't worry Toyota, like many others, I'm not coming back.

So I get my refund, with tax, $0.54! Back in the car I am messing around with satellite radio and the other awesomely cool gadgets that make it virtually drive itself (it is quite fancy) and I see something between the seats. I reach down and find it's a small, bubble-wrapped mailing package, unopened, from Hong Kong. This is killing me. I love getting mail, real mail, packages, unexpected gifts, and this one, from a land so far away. It could be anything. Unfortunately, it's not addressed to me.

I am at a crossroads. Clearly it was left by the last person who used this loaner. But the postage date is like 5 days ago, so by now he certainly called his Hong Kong connection and notified them that the package had been lost. Maybe he even placed an insurance claim by now. Or he signed for it at the post office today, hours ago, and has just called Audi and they're about to call me to make sure it's safe. I want to open it so badly. It's partially opened...but it can't be that good, right, Dude hadn't opened it yet...

Well I decide against breaking federal, state, postal, international, ethical law. I didn't win the lottery, so I need my job, I cannot be a felon in 2 lands, and my luck, it's a little keychain or magnet. I do the right thing and call Audi to report the item. They thank me profusely for being wonderful and tell me they'll be calling Dude right away. Rewarding feeling.

I'm finally home, it's about 5:45 and I sit down to watch Teen Mom. Oh my gosh, I am hysterical crying for Catelynn and Tyler. I love these two. Mature, loving, kind, oh I could go on and on. I want to invite them over, have dinner, play cards, I want Snooki to come too. It would be great.

My emotional outbreak has sucked my motivation and I don't want to post.

But then I remember, the little skiing Snoopy pin in the bathroom at work. Someone had lost their little skiing Snoopy pin (possibly from their puffy Looney Tunes winter coat) and it was put on the counter in hopes of being returned to it's proud owner.

The moment I saw that pin I thought, I have to mention this pin tonight. It was a laugh-out-loud moment. What grown up, employed in a professional position, who speaks to decision makers and game players on a regular basis, would sport this pin? Tomorrow I will do some digging and find out. They need to be reported!

Oh did you hear, $104.3 million, most ever paid at auction, for the Walking Man I bronze sculpture. Unbelievable.

Soggy Bottom Girls

In the spirit of great and long-lasting friendship, I have been afforded the pleasure of guest commentary this evening. My stylish, gorgeous, talented, Beyonce-like friend, uhhhh, we'll just call her "N," has decided to post some thoughts. It's because she can shake it like Beyonce and shares, um, well similar assets.

**Note, the following represents the opinions of one writer and are not necessarily shared by anyone other than that writer. Not necessarily…**

This is pretty bad. Almost right up there with liars, sleazy con artists, and middle-aged men who cheat on their wives after twenty years of marriage. Bastards! Anyway, like I said, it’s pretty bad. Immediately I am under pressure and I don’t know how to react. Should I run? Fake being sick? Smile that awkward I care smile? I just hate it; actually I despise it - when a co-worker brings their baby to the office.

Seriously, I know exactly what you are thinking. What a nasty woman, what could be cuter, right? Guess she won’t be having any kids. (Though I have) Well that’s not the case, I am kind and good, but I was the one who never really liked babies or thought they were cute, let alone ever be trusted to baby-sit.

Anyhow… what is one to do in this situation? This woman brought her baby to the office and I am suddenly supposed to think it’s a little cutie. It’s not. And I am not kidding… He’s not even remotely chubby, he has no hair, and this outfit is just plain, old ugly. Now she decides to bring her germ-infested baby to my office and hands me the Purell like there are germs on ME. Um hello, you brought the kid into my space. I didn’t ask for it and now you actually think I want to hold it and be all goo goo gaa gaa as we bond.

So now I am holding this hot mess of a baby. The kid won’t stop crying and everyone is looking at me like I did something wrong since a second ago he was all bubbly and smiles. And then it really gets interesting. I suddenly notice a glimmer, a sort of wink and spark and think, well look at that, the kid is warming up to me, maybe I am in control of this hot mess, when in fact, the reality of the situation is a literal warming sensation on my arms that, for a moment, clouded my understanding. I look up and see the horror on everyone’s face, my senses kick in and I realize what happened. That little piece of bleep freed himself of the day’s gas and pissed all over me!

All I can pray is they know it was the kid with all the noises and smells and not me! However, I'm not sure I am that lucky. Great, funkin fantastic. Either way it’s the first week on the job and now I will forever be the girl who got pissed on.

Pampered Chef Parties are for drinking - a drunk blog

My name is Lindsay. On the urging of friends and co-workers, I have decided to start a blog and become very, very famous.

I have been known to be funny at times, hilarious in fact, and I think that I am well suited for t.v., though I am told, I should start with radio and move up the ranks. (Erin...nice...)

Well Friday I did the radio thing and proclaimed my graduation to the next step on the road to fame.

Did you hear me on Cleveland's 104.1 debating whether Operation Repo is reality or made for t.v.? Yep, that was me, Lindsay from Shaker. It's real and I heart Froy!!!

So this is me, starting a blog and hopefully soon your friends will know me too.

This afternoon I attended a Pampered Chef party. Have you been to one?
I do not cook well, often, or happily, however, I predicted there would be apps and alcohol.

I was right.

But that hostess and her posse were smarter than me because they knew I could not sit and eat dips and chips and drink the mango mojitos without ordering something too. They won.

Me, well, I left with a cookie press, cob nobs and something else, though I can't recall at this moment, thanks to the mojitos.

So now I am home, Sunday night, watching Saturday Night Live and thinking about Monday.

I hate Monday's. You know, there is no time better than 4:00 Friday afternoon, every moment following is downhill.