in a mall

i am in a mall, not because i am shopping (normal reason), but because i am working.
how did this come about, what with my lofty real estate licence and all?

well...as anyone that is "smarter than a fifth grader" knows; the real estate/mortgage business is not the place to be right now if your life requires any semblance of stability, and it turns out that mine does.

as a paycheck became more and more of a distant memory, i threw my self, or my daughter anyway, on the mercy of my mom and mother-in-law.
lucky for me, they were all to happy to pitch in and take care of the little muffin.

i spent a couple of weeks applying and interviewing, and this was the job that made the most sense.
i am the guest services supervisor for the mall at northgate.
translation: i, along with five other ladies, provide concierge service to mall goers from a kiosk between stores.

as it turns out i am working for a really good company that manages shopping centers across the united states.

they are talking about implementing uniforms, now i know that this may sound horrible, but in my busy life i welcome the spare time this would afford me.
can you imagine?
no need to change my clothes several times each morning just to put on the first outfit,
no need to iron, as the company covers dry cleaning,
no need for me to get a pair of new brown loafers (as everything does not go with the two pairs of acceptable shoes i own, they are both black)
and at last, no need to rehang all of the outfits that did not make the cut during my morning fashion show
BRING IT ON!!!!

whats in a name

i am the first on to tell you how much i love my name, but despite my elementary school secretary telling (evey single day), that the name "abbie st marie" should be up in lights, because it just sounds like a movie star; i did not enjoy this name as a child. i knew no other abbie's growing up. and unlike my sister amy, i was never able to find my name on a pencil, or one of those cute little plastic licence plates, and on the rare occation i did...it was never spelled like my name. so....in the sixth grade i decided that i was going to change my name to tracy, i informed my friends , family and teachers, i wrote on all of my binders and even went so far as to write it at the top of my school papers (mrs hill was kind enough to allow it, but never called me that no matter how many times i reminded her), needless to say it never stuck!
i was eighteen years old when i understood the significance of being my grandmother's namesake, that was when she gave me my beloved "ABBIE" box. my grandmother must have know that she would someday pass it on to me, as it was passed to her; the funny thing is, until she gave it to me, i had never seen it! maybe she knew that i would beg for it and that was why she decided to make it a surprise.
the box is made of a dark wood and you can tell it it really old by the way it is crafted, it has a skeleton key lock, that no longer catches and a thick lid that houses a "secret" flap down compartment (which has always thrilled me!) inside of the compartment is the real treasure, my name has been passed down for many generations and my grandmother documented it for me with notes and pictures dating back to the eighteen hundreds. the box also has my name inlaid on the top of it's lid.
THAT ws my moment, the defining moment it my life that made me feel special, my very own place in the world, my grandmothers namesake.
like my grandmother, i am no stranger to hard times and heartache, i have a love for travel, seafood, sweets and am strong willed and stubborn. i have a quick wit about me, like to make my opinions known and can bit quite sassy when a moment strikes me.
sadly, the grandmother for whom i was named, passed on friday, october the fifth at one thirty in the afternoon, and it seemed fitting that i was there with her.
i am so sad, but again like her, i promise to carry her name with grace, dignity and strength.

love you grandma,
abbie