Archive for the ‘Whoops’ Category

  • In Which Things Go Awry

    Date: 2010.10.27 | Category: Friends, Mark, Me, Weirdness, Whoops | Response: 9

    So my friend Kelly, now Mrs. Bachelor Girl, got married last weekend. Well really, weekend before last. And it was indeed a happy, creative and somewhat chaotic celebration.

    I had originally planned to get ready with all the bridesmaids at the salon around 10am that morning. But, due to tight finances following our vacation and the steep price of hair and makeup coupled with the fact that my sister, who is amazing at both hair and makeup, volunteered to do both for me for free, I canceled my salon appointment.

    However, I had already promised Kel that I would pick up sandwiches for the crew.

    Now my sister had limited time to get me looking top notch before she had to go to work. So I was trying to make sure I looked pretty and picked up and delivered sandwiches.

    At about 10:30am, Kel called halfway through my makeup application to tell me they were finishing up early and didn’t know what to do about the sandwiches. I reassured her I would take care of it.

    Shan finished up my makeup, then hair sprayed my face and I took off to get the sandwiches in a bit of a hurry.

    I successfully delivered the sandwiches to the salon and beautiful little Kel, who looked exactly like a little wood sprite and would have fit in nicely with an enchanted forest. I wanted to stay and chat, but I still had to get my hair done before my sister took off for work, so I quickly headed out the door.

    Now I was in Mark’s truck because my car was still in the body shop waiting on some specialty painted headlight to be shipped from Honda.

    And a Toyota Tacoma? Is a LOT longer than the tiny little Honda Fit I’m used to. So I start to back out. Stop. Realize I don’t have quite enough room to turn, ease up on the brake and then WHOMP! I looked back and saw a white car behind me and began screaming obscenities.

    I pulled the truck forward and ran to look at the car, which had lots of scuff marks on it. In hysterics I ran into the salon, where we quickly discovered the vehicle was Mere’s rental.

    The ever-present Kel swept up beside me and said, “Don’t you cry, you’ll ruin your makeup.” She pulled me together while we realized that, praise God, there were only scuff marks on the car that wiped off with a little spray.

    A quick series of relieved thoughts went through my head. “We don’t have to call the cops! There won’t be another thing on my insurance! I won’t have to pay to fix the rental!”

    But then I looked at Mark’s truck. And oh holy hell there was a giant dent in the left bumper.

    Now how did a plastic Toyota Camry come out with no damage while a metal trunk bumper had a huge dent in it? The tears started again and instantly I was surrounded by bridesmaids and salon workers telling me to calm down and to not even tell him.

    HA. Ha ha. HA. This is the man who inspects his truck every day for rock chips. He is going to notice a big dent in the bumper and THEN kill me.

    But I regrouped. Shannon finished my hair. I went home and told him.

    And cried and cried and had to put tissues under my eyes and redo my mascara. He, of course, was furious. I dented his new truck WHILE mine was in the shop. And I felt terrible and miserable and awful and reminded him that “I’m carrying your child, remember? You love me!”

    And he calmed down, sort of, and then we headed to the wedding.

    There things got infinitely more chaotic, but that story is for another post.

  • Sure, we all make mistakes.

    Date: 2010.05.27 | Category: Whoops, Work | Response: 5

    And most people are kind enough to overlook them, or at least wait and make fun of you when you’re not there to feel the burning shame of your mess up. (That is, of course, unless they are your family or spouse who love to relish in you being wrong).

    The bad part about working in the publishing industry though is that there are thousands and thousands of people who look at your work, waiting for a mistake.

    It’s like a game show. Who can be the first to call with the typo, or, “well actually you got it wrong…” Which is why I dread the day the publication comes out. I jump when the phone rings, I cringe when an email comes through. Because the feedback is coming; it always does.

    And in the following days handwritten letters and sometimes even anonymous faxes find their way to my desk.

    Now I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a kick out of some of them. Because, oh I do. I love reading very passionate and sometimes embittered and misguided responses. And, in a way, it shows me they care.

    But this last time, I admit it, I did make a kind of big mistake, one that slipped through the careful eyes of four proofreaders.

    I listed a prominent and important local city leader as DECEASED. And not only did I list him as dead, but I wrote that something was done in his honor because he was dead.

    You see…what had happened was… I misread the press release. The press release said the person who was actually deceased was a good friend and associate of the person I listed as dead. Follow that?

    So today I get a phone call from said not-dead person’s secretary who is very confused and wanted to make sure we knew he is “very much alive.” I returned the call, inwardly slapping myself, preparing to gravel. Thankfully though, she was very nice about the whole thing and said they all had a good laugh over it, especially when not-dead man’s friend called and asked if he could have his job because he would no longer need it, being dead and all.

    Note to self: Even when deadlines are tight, take the time to double check facts.

    Not to be outdone, shortly after I got that phone call, I realized I left leftover pad thai from lunch my car, baking in the 95-degree Louisiana sun. The same car that finally doesn’t smell like a souring latte anymore.  I just pray that smell clears out before Mark gets a chance to make fun of me for that mistake