Can't I read the signs? Can't I take a hint? Apparently not.
I'm back from vacation. Not one of my better vacations either. But then, I'm not really remembering when I last went on a vacation that could truly be classified as a "good vacation". It was the week from hell. But what else would one expect me to experience? I've come to the conclusion that it was not in the cards for John & I to experience a truly wonderful vacation. Or at the very least, a dull, uneventful, yet relaxing vacation.
Here is my story...
Sunday, 10/22: our first official day of vacation together. So much to do! Take our two eldest children to "camp grandmas" (a.k.a. our breeder's kennel) for the week, get our youngest child bathed before the trip, open up the camper and give it a good cleaning (and pray that nothing has broken during the summer of just sitting idle). The first two tasks we completed with little problem. John brought the camper home (it's been parked at the firehouse since wednesday evening) and we opened it up. At first, aside from a few small cobwebs, nothing seemed amiss. But then, once I started inspecting things a little closer, I discovered a blue-ish colored mold growing on a few things, but it only seemed to appear on things that were very dark in color. I started cleaning all the surfaces vigorously, removing the mattresses (which seemed to be mold free), and spraying everything down with Lysol, including the mattresses. Everything that could be removed from the camper was taken indoors and washed. So now we wanted to let the camper sit overnight and allow it to get a good airing-out and the Lysol a chance to dry and hopefully work some magic.
Okay, so there was "sign" #1. It was a minor set-back... I'd just have to wait 'til monday morning to pack the camper. No big deal.
Monday, 10/23: Sign #2... Olivia took a dump in the middle of the living room floor. She never does that! What brought this behavior on from out of the blue? I cleaned up the mess, used clorox to clean the area... so what if it left a bleach spot on the carpet, the carpet was ruined a long time ago. At least I know I killed the poo-poo germs.
While I was stuffing things in every knook & cranny of the camper, I was bitten (by a spider I assume) on the wrist. I didn't feel the bite, but when my wrist started itching like crazy, I noticed some bite marks that had popped out. I dabbed some cortizone creme on the area, and went to finish packing.
We continued to ignore the warning signs, and proceeded to pack the camper. I made the beds up with fresh linens, and just before we prepared to close it up, we discovered we had a new pet (sign #3) which had taken up residence in the camper. The backside of the curtains are white, so our "pet" stood out vividly against the background. It was a very large spider. **BLECH!!!!** I do believe I jumped about 3 feet in the air, and another 6 feet sideways to get away from the critter. I screamed, shivered, and did my best to avoid soiling myself. Where had that thing come from? How did I miss seeing it on my other trips right past it?? My thoughts turned to the bite marks on my wrist. Oh crap!, what if that's the thing that bit me? Of course one's first instinct is to smash a spider flat and not give it another thought. But since there was the possibility that this thing had bitten me, what if I got deathly ill? Or worse? No, we needed to keep this spider alive, for evidence. I ran into the house and grabbed a large pickle jar, which I promptly handed over to the husband to go capture it.
Well, I'm happy to report that whatever did bite me, it left no lasting marks on my wrist. So I've been carrying this spider around with me all week, catching flies or moths and tossing them in the jar. I now have a pet spider (which I think I've identified as being a wolf spider), I've been calling him Furry-Freddy.
We finally hit the road around 1 or 2pm, later than we had intended, but what did it matter? We weren't on a schedule.
As we headed down I-65, just past Shepherdsville, we encountered the Titanic. Sort of. There was a houseboat, of proportions the likes I've never seen before, being hauled down the road on the back of a tractor-trailer. It was so wide, it took up two lanes of the interstate. If I'm lying, I'm dying. It was enormous!!!
By the time we reached the campgound 90 minutes later, my back was starting to ache. We virtually had the campground to ourselves. When we arrived, there were three other campers spread out over the 4 sections. No need to worry about disturing anyone, or about being disturbed. Throughout the week, there were never more than five other campers, but usually only 2 or 3. I dare say, all the other campers were older than us, and not one of them had a child, other than the 4-legged variety with them. That was the most delightful part of the whole trip... the peace and quiet!!
We set up camp in site B-5, which we kept referring to as "After"... a bingo joke. We chose it as it was a little closer to the bath-house than our usual site, and as our friends (a pregnant friend no less) were supposed to join us later in the week, we wanted to be closer to the toilets for her frequent urges.
John went to the host site and asked where we could purchase some firewood, but the kindly attendant offered up his whole supply, as he was leaving in a few days, and wouldn't be needing any more. So we made off with quite a stache of firewood.
By the time we were done setting up, we were both worn out, my back was really aching by now, and we just wanted to rest. So we opted for heating up some pork tenderloin I'd fixed at home, instead of cooking a big meal over the fire.
It got pretty darned cold that night. The space-heater ran non-st0p. Olivia slept curled up next to John in his sleeping bag on the bed below mine, leaving me to shiver alone. Hmph!, my Kelsey would never have left my side. I see who my loyal companions are!!
Tuesday, 10/24: we awoke to a heavy frost on everything, and my back in absolute agony. I was having pain-flashbacks to August, when my troubles began. I called my friend that was watching the house at 7:30 that morning and had her go root through the cabinet to find my muscle-relaxers, so I could get the prescription number and have it refilled at the Wal-mart in Leitchfield. Like we've always said, never camp anywhere that doesn't have a Wal-mart within a half hour drive!
Once I was finally able to crawl off my bed and get dressed, I fixed a big breakfast, did the dishes, then limped up to the bath-house for a hot shower. Thankfully, the water was hot. Unfortunately though, the heat wasn't turned on in the building, so I was very cold once the water was turned off. My teeth chattered uncontrollably while I got dressed.
We got to the Wal-mart and John dropped me off. Of course, this store is laid out the exact opposite from the one by my house, so the door I entered was the furthest one away from the pharmacy. I limped across the store, gave them my refill number and insurance info, and they informed me it would take 30 minutes. Fine. While I was waiting, I picked out yet another heating pad (this makes the 3rd one in my collecti0n), and a bottle of Advil PM, then I sat in the waiting area and waited, and waited, and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. One was not to be found. I cried a few tears from the pain and frustration, and waited some more. After 30 minutes had come and gone, I finally went to find out what was taking so long. Oh, my prescription was ready... then why the hell didn't they call my name? I was sitting right in front of them! Arghhh!!!
Back at camp, we ate lunch and waited for John's aunt/uncle to arrive for a visit. 45 minutes past the scheduled arrival time, I gave up waiting and went to lay down. I had no sooner plopped down then they showed up. Figures! I went outside, and Olivia proceeded to try and take a bite out of aunt Jane. I was horrified!! My sweet little child has never acted so horribly before, but she just did not want Jane anywhere near us.
They wanted to take us to dinner that evening, and I was just in a mood not to argue, so we met them at BB's Italian Restaurant. Olivia was left in the car while we dined. Our waitress was a low-talker, and for anyone that's a Seinfeld fan, then you know what I'm talking about. We couldn't understand a word she was saying, and had to strain to catch a word here and there.
Back at camp, I opted to sleep in the lower bunk, opposite of John, as I'd be able to prop myself up somewhat, and hopefully that would help ease the pain. It didn't help.
Wednesday, 10/25: I wasn't getting any relief from the back pain, and refused to fix breakfast. Coffee was all I was willing to prepare. We lazed around, not even getting dressed until almost noon. We skipped the showers, and wore hats over our mussed hair. We went out driving around, and witnessed the odometer on the 4-Runner roll over to 123,000 miles. There was lots of wildlife... deer, turkey buzzards, woodpeckers, chipmunks & squirrels, and a huge flock of wild turkey that ran past our campsite before flying out across the lake. That evening, we cooked a big meal, John grilled chops out over the fire. After dinner, I had the space-heater on low, just to keep the chill at bay, and I plugged the slow-roaster oven in and fixed a pan of brownies. While I was washing the dishes, the power suddenly went out. John checked the circuit breaker outside, but nothing was tripped. He unplugged the camper and re-plugged it anyways, but that didn't help. I unplugged everything in the camper. We were at a loss. John drove up to the host site and informed the attendant that we were without power... thinking that maybe the power was out to our area of the campground.
The host came and tested the electrical post, but wasn't getting any juice. He was perplexed. He walked to the next site and tested it. At this point, I misunderstood him, and thought he said it didn't have power either. I was now getting frustrated by everything. If we had to move our camper to another site, then I'd just as soon pack it in and go home. Finally, the host said we needed to check our fuse & breaker box in the camper. Huh?? Didn't know we had one. He & John looked around, then finally found it... back under our beds. So John had to disassemble our bunks and crawl back to the box. He finally got the breaker reset, and we were back in business. Yeah, John disassembled the bed, so you know who got to re-make them. Moi.
That night, the sky was so very clear, the stars were very bright and we enjoyed the campfire.
Thursday, 10/26: It sprinkled rain off and on throughout the day, but never rained much... even our bath towels that we hung on the clothes line we'd tied between two trees stayed dry. The temperature was warm enough to enjoy wearing shorts. The heat had finally been turned on in the bath house, so now it was a toasty affair while taking a shower. We knew the real rain would be setting in soon, so we tried to make the best of our time outside. I couldn't walk very far, as my back wouldn't allow it. I gave serious consideration to making the drive back to Louisville for a trip to my chiropractor, but nixed the idea and toughed it out. Late Thursday night, the rain picked up. By now, our friends had informed us they wouldn't be coming down, but I wasn't even upset. I wasn't in the mood to play hostess.
Friday, 10/27: We awoke to drizzle. It drizzled off and on all day. It would rain for 10 minutes, then stop for 5, then start again, repeating a similar cycle all day long. It was depressing. By now, we had exhausted our supply of movies that we'd brough along, so we made another trip to Wal-mart. I scoured the 2/$11 bin and came away with a handful of movies. Most of which proved to be total duds!! I also picked up a Nyla-bone for Olivia, thinking it would help keep her occupied. Not!!
Back at the camper, I suggested setting the dinette table up and playing some cards or dice games (thus far, we hadn't had need for the dinette table). Bad idea! I tossed all the bedding onto the spare bunks, and reassembled the beds into the settees and the dinette area. As I was lowering the legs on the table, one of the legs broke off. Crap!! What else was going to go wrong?? There was no way to fix it either. I just reassembled the beds (again!), and told John we'd just continue to watch movies. Now we were both fairly bored out of our minds!!
And poor Olivia!! Anytime we tried to eat or even prepare a meal, we had to lock her in the back of the 4-runner. She wasn't happy about it. She threw a few fits over being confined to the car, but what could we do? One can not eat any food in her presence, or else she's right there in your face. Even at home, we have to put her in her crate while we eat. I will say this though... by having her there, we didn't eat nearly as much junk food as we'd normally have consumed. Usually within the first 24 hours, we'd have nearly consumed an entire container of dip and a bag of chips. But by having her there, we didn't even break the seal on the chips/dip until friday, as it wasn't worth the hassle of putting her in the car just to indulge our snack-attacks. At home, she normally works off her excess energy by trotting up/down the hall, wrestling with our other danes, or else by running circles on the retractable leash in the side yard. But on this trip, when I put her on the retractable leash, she just kind of wondered around, sniffing the ground, eating acorns. She tried to run laps inside the camper a couple of times, but we had to discourage that and give her a couple of Benadryls to help calm her down. I'm a such bad mother. Then Nyla-bone, which normally lasts a dog several days, if not weeks (I've even had them last for a year or so with previous danes), was completely eaten by Olivia in less than 20 minutes. Good luck with that bowel-movement girlfriend!
This next little story falls under the catagory of T.M.I., but I'll tell you anyway. Normally, when I pack clothes for a trip, I pack 1 pair of underwear more than what I should need, just in case. I mean hey, you never know when you'll slip and fall in some mud or a puddle, or have an auto accident causing you to have an accident. But not this time, no, I packed exactly the number I needed. I don't know why. Friday afternoon, Olivia's devouring her Nylabone, we're watching a movie, munching on Pringles, when I got choked on a chip. I started coughing uncontrollably, which only made my back spasm even worse. The inevitable happened, and I wet my pants. (Ah yes, I see Depends in my future.) Okay, remove the now wet panties... I now have one clean pair of undies left. Crud. I wanted to save them for my shower in the morning so I could be dressed in nice clean clothes. The alternative? Put yesterdays underwear back on.
We picked up aunt Janie and took her to dinner at the local Mexican restaurant. John & I ordered different things off the menu, but when our plates arrived, they were exactly the same, the only difference being his had green bell peppers mixed in. Of course, our waiter couldn't understand our questions, so we just had to shrug and accept what was served us was the correct thing.
The rain finally stopped (for the most part) that night, but now the wind had picked up. At times, it felt as if our little camper would blow away. But I guess it wasn't that bad, as we never had to take our awning in (unlike the last trip where we put it up and took it down at least twice a day).
Saturday, 10/28: When we got up, the wind was still fierce, but this was actually a good thing. It had dried everything out, so we didn't have to wait 'til later in the day for the camper to dry. At least, not for the outside. We noticed that there was a dewey layer of condensation all over the inside of the camper. Grrrr. As it had been zipped up tight, the steam from cooking, our warm breath as we slept, the steam from doing dishes, etc. etc., had all collected on the ceiling. Now I had to crawl around with a towel and dry the inside before we could close it up.
We fixed a quick breakfast over the fire, which barely stayed lit because of the high winds. We were both fed up, and decided to forego showering, instead we decided to pack it in and hit the road for home. We didn't even take the time to change clothes, but just wore the clothes we'd slept in. Okay, so by the time we arrived home, I've now been wearing the same pair of undies for three days. I think they could have crawled into the washer unassisted.
When we got home and got everything unloaded, the dirty laundry filled the hallway. I did no less than 8 loads of laundry. How do two people manage to dirty up so much stuff? A hot shower and clean clothes does wonders for one's spirits. We went out to dinner with our friends, where I proceeded to dribble bbq sauce down my clean shirt and pants, and left a permanent grease stain on the shirt that didn't come out when I laundered it the next day. : (
Olivia was glad to be back home in her recliner. That makes two of us!!
Sunday, 10/29: We went to pick up our other children. They seemed oh so very excited to see us. I couldn't keep Bootsy from jumping up and trying to hug me, and Eliott knocked John down into a chair and did his very best to climb up on top of him. We managed to get them both bathed, then peeked in at the 8-day old puppies that were their nieces/nephews. Too cute!!
Back home, Eliott gave us the pouty-silent treatment the rest of the evening, I suppose his way of letting us know he resented being left for so long.
So now it's monday, I'm back to work and finally caught up.
I think I've come to the conclusion that John & I need to take separate vacations in the future. That way, one of us can stay home with the children at all times, and we won't get on each others nerves in the event we'd get cooped up in a small space together as we did this past week.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Friday, October 20, 2006
Correction!
Okay, I must correct myself from the last blog. It was Guy Clark, not Bobby Bare that sang about home grown tomatoes.
Bobby Bare did sing the song entitled "New Cut Road", which I think was out around the same time though.
ARTIST: Guy ClarkTITLE: Homegrown TomatoesLyrics and Chords
There's nothin' in the world that I like better thanBacon, lettuce and home grown tomatoesUp in the morning and out in the gardenPick you a ripe one, don't get a hard 'unPlant 'em in the springtime eat 'em in the summerAll winter without 'em's a culinary bummerI forget all about the sweatin' and the diggin'Every time I go out and pick me a big'un
{Refrain}Home grown tomatoes, home grown tomatoesWhat'd life be without home grown tomatoesThere's only two things that money can't buyThat's true love and home grown tomatoesYou can go out and eat 'em, that's for sureBut there's nothin' a home grown tomato won't cureYou can put 'em in a salad, put 'em in a stewYou can make your own, very own tomato juiceYou can eat 'em with eggs, you can eat 'em with gravyYou can eat 'em with beans, pinto or navyPut em on the side, put em on the middleHome grown tomatoes on a hot cake griddle{Refrain}If I could change this life I leadYou could call me Johnny Tomato SeedI know what this country needsIt's home grown tomatoes in every yard you seeWhen I die don't bury meIn a box in a cold dark cemeteryOut in the garden would be much betterWhere I could be pushin' up home grown tomatoes
Bobby Bare did sing the song entitled "New Cut Road", which I think was out around the same time though.
ARTIST: Guy ClarkTITLE: Homegrown TomatoesLyrics and Chords
There's nothin' in the world that I like better thanBacon, lettuce and home grown tomatoesUp in the morning and out in the gardenPick you a ripe one, don't get a hard 'unPlant 'em in the springtime eat 'em in the summerAll winter without 'em's a culinary bummerI forget all about the sweatin' and the diggin'Every time I go out and pick me a big'un
{Refrain}Home grown tomatoes, home grown tomatoesWhat'd life be without home grown tomatoesThere's only two things that money can't buyThat's true love and home grown tomatoesYou can go out and eat 'em, that's for sureBut there's nothin' a home grown tomato won't cureYou can put 'em in a salad, put 'em in a stewYou can make your own, very own tomato juiceYou can eat 'em with eggs, you can eat 'em with gravyYou can eat 'em with beans, pinto or navyPut em on the side, put em on the middleHome grown tomatoes on a hot cake griddle{Refrain}If I could change this life I leadYou could call me Johnny Tomato SeedI know what this country needsIt's home grown tomatoes in every yard you seeWhen I die don't bury meIn a box in a cold dark cemeteryOut in the garden would be much betterWhere I could be pushin' up home grown tomatoes
Driver-Ed
Very often, when turning the corner to either enter the parking lot or exiting it at work, I encounter a vehicle (almost daily!) with the "beware" sign on top, letting the rest of us that are sharing the road know that the person driving that car is a student-driver.
Sometimes I get stuck behind one of these cars as they ever so carefully navigate their way around the corner, stop to attempt parallel parking, etc. When I first started encountering these cars (seems most of them are marked AAA of KY student drivers), I used to get somewhat annoyed, would get impatient with the excessively slow speed that these drivers traveled and such, and I also wondered at the fact there was only 1 student in the car. Hmmm.
Eventually I got used to these student driver cars, and have learned to go around (when it's appropriate), or just to wait patiently. But part of me is still wondering, "why only 1 student to a car? And why the AAAKY?, isn't drivers-ed offered through the high-schools?"
A few days ago, as I again encountered yet another one of these students, I again mentally asked the same questions. I then flashed back to when I took drivers-ed the summer between my freshman & sophomore years. Besides the instructor, Mr. Downey, there were four students in the car... myself, and three guys: Paul Brinley, Darrin Erwin & Scott Crone. We had (or, at least, I had) a ball in that class!! Even on the days when we all got bad marks or fussed at for not doing so well, we still had fun. I remember there were some occasions we (I) laughed so hard there were tears flowing, and seemed to be constant giggling in the back seat, either from some error the driver had made, something Mr. Downey was doing, or even from the music he insisted we listen to on the radio. At that time, it was country music, and I recall the popular song that summer was called "Home Grown Tomatoes", I think by a local artist named Bobby Bare... I'll have to investigate that fact a little further and get back with you.
So a part of me is now thinking that perhaps todays students are getting a better education behind the wheel, in that they are getting more one-on-one tutoring from the instructor without distractions from the backseat, but then, I'm also thinking that todays students are the unfortunate ones, as they're missing out on an occasion they can look back on years from now and remember fondly.
I don't have many fond memories of high school, and wouldn't do it over again for anything, but drivers-ed was one of those gems that will shine in my childhood memory.
Sometimes I get stuck behind one of these cars as they ever so carefully navigate their way around the corner, stop to attempt parallel parking, etc. When I first started encountering these cars (seems most of them are marked AAA of KY student drivers), I used to get somewhat annoyed, would get impatient with the excessively slow speed that these drivers traveled and such, and I also wondered at the fact there was only 1 student in the car. Hmmm.
Eventually I got used to these student driver cars, and have learned to go around (when it's appropriate), or just to wait patiently. But part of me is still wondering, "why only 1 student to a car? And why the AAAKY?, isn't drivers-ed offered through the high-schools?"
A few days ago, as I again encountered yet another one of these students, I again mentally asked the same questions. I then flashed back to when I took drivers-ed the summer between my freshman & sophomore years. Besides the instructor, Mr. Downey, there were four students in the car... myself, and three guys: Paul Brinley, Darrin Erwin & Scott Crone. We had (or, at least, I had) a ball in that class!! Even on the days when we all got bad marks or fussed at for not doing so well, we still had fun. I remember there were some occasions we (I) laughed so hard there were tears flowing, and seemed to be constant giggling in the back seat, either from some error the driver had made, something Mr. Downey was doing, or even from the music he insisted we listen to on the radio. At that time, it was country music, and I recall the popular song that summer was called "Home Grown Tomatoes", I think by a local artist named Bobby Bare... I'll have to investigate that fact a little further and get back with you.
So a part of me is now thinking that perhaps todays students are getting a better education behind the wheel, in that they are getting more one-on-one tutoring from the instructor without distractions from the backseat, but then, I'm also thinking that todays students are the unfortunate ones, as they're missing out on an occasion they can look back on years from now and remember fondly.
I don't have many fond memories of high school, and wouldn't do it over again for anything, but drivers-ed was one of those gems that will shine in my childhood memory.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Thank goodness for...
Thanksgiving is fast approaching. I'd like to take this moment to pause and give thanks for a few things in our lives...
Thank goodness for Chick-Fillet's cole slaw... it's simply the BEST!
Thank goodness for bad customer-service workers... if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have nearly as much stuff to blog about.
Thank goodness for politicians... otherwise, I don't think the television stations would have anybody to pay for advertising those horrid commercials and keep the stations on the air. And too, otherwise a lot of printing companies would probably go out of business if they didn't have those trashy political signs & bumper stickers to print up that pollute the medians, ditches, lawns, and car windows/bumpers.
Thank goodness for dumb-ass drivers, otherwise the other motorists wouldn't have as much to complain about, and we might become complacent in our driving habits and become dumb-asses ourselves.
Thank goodness for cell phones... I just don't know how my grandparents and their relatives before them, ever managed! How on earth did they ever go to work and come home, go to the grocery store and shop from a list, drive their cars (or horse & buggies) without carrying on a conversation w/their spouse/friend/parent whoever!, about so-and-so's boyfriend running around on Yolanda's cheating self, 'cause girlfriend, you already know...!
Thank goodness for email (and computers!)... otherwise, I'd probably never converse with a lot of people (family & friends).
And last but not least, thank goodness for blogs... otherwise, I'd be forced to actually do something productive once in a while, and I couldn't release my pent-up frustrations.
: )
Thank goodness for Chick-Fillet's cole slaw... it's simply the BEST!
Thank goodness for bad customer-service workers... if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have nearly as much stuff to blog about.
Thank goodness for politicians... otherwise, I don't think the television stations would have anybody to pay for advertising those horrid commercials and keep the stations on the air. And too, otherwise a lot of printing companies would probably go out of business if they didn't have those trashy political signs & bumper stickers to print up that pollute the medians, ditches, lawns, and car windows/bumpers.
Thank goodness for dumb-ass drivers, otherwise the other motorists wouldn't have as much to complain about, and we might become complacent in our driving habits and become dumb-asses ourselves.
Thank goodness for cell phones... I just don't know how my grandparents and their relatives before them, ever managed! How on earth did they ever go to work and come home, go to the grocery store and shop from a list, drive their cars (or horse & buggies) without carrying on a conversation w/their spouse/friend/parent whoever!, about so-and-so's boyfriend running around on Yolanda's cheating self, 'cause girlfriend, you already know...!
Thank goodness for email (and computers!)... otherwise, I'd probably never converse with a lot of people (family & friends).
And last but not least, thank goodness for blogs... otherwise, I'd be forced to actually do something productive once in a while, and I couldn't release my pent-up frustrations.
: )
Free...
I saw a sign in the median next to the off-ramp as I was getting off the interstate this morning, it read:
FREE
MALE CAT
NEUTER
222-####
and some fine print at the bottom that I was too far away to read.
I couldn't help but wonder, was the sign offering a free male cat that had been neutered? or was it offering to neuter your male cat for free?
I wish I'd been able to read that fine print, perhaps the mystery would've been solved. As it is, now that sign is going to bug me all day.
FREE
MALE CAT
NEUTER
222-####
and some fine print at the bottom that I was too far away to read.
I couldn't help but wonder, was the sign offering a free male cat that had been neutered? or was it offering to neuter your male cat for free?
I wish I'd been able to read that fine print, perhaps the mystery would've been solved. As it is, now that sign is going to bug me all day.
Tax dollars
I noticed on the drive into work a couple of weeks ago, that there was a new sign posted on the interstate, announcing that I had entered Oldham County.
Most of you are thinking, "So what? There are always signs posted announcing when you enter a new county."
True, but this new sign was a bit different. The old sign had the standard lettering, (block lettering perhaps?) that you see on pretty much all highway signs.
But this new sign, the letters were written out in fancy letters, hung on brand new poles, about 3 feet in front of the old poles. The old sign was gone, but the old poles remained.
I couldn't help but think, "Ah, there's my tax dollars being put to good use (NOT!!)." What was wrong with the old sign? Why couldn't they use the old poles? And does the fancier lettering cost more than the regular?
I'm thinking those tax dollars could've been better spent on police to run radar or patrol the interstates.
Most of you are thinking, "So what? There are always signs posted announcing when you enter a new county."
True, but this new sign was a bit different. The old sign had the standard lettering, (block lettering perhaps?) that you see on pretty much all highway signs.
But this new sign, the letters were written out in fancy letters, hung on brand new poles, about 3 feet in front of the old poles. The old sign was gone, but the old poles remained.
I couldn't help but think, "Ah, there's my tax dollars being put to good use (NOT!!)." What was wrong with the old sign? Why couldn't they use the old poles? And does the fancier lettering cost more than the regular?
I'm thinking those tax dollars could've been better spent on police to run radar or patrol the interstates.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Monopoly
Monopoly... there's a game that usually causes most people to groan in despair! The game that seems to drag on 4-EVER, usually to one or more of the players drop out, not so much from lack of "funds", but from bordem. I admit, I've only ever successfully completed the game one time, and as it was, I came in 2nd out of 4. Of course, it helped that we were playing Dog-opoly.
Anyway, if any of you ever dine at Mickey Dee's, then you're probably aware of the Monopoly game they put out once every year or so. Purchase certain food items, get a couple of game pieces... some are instant-win, others correspond to places on a Monopoly board. Collect all the pieces, and you can win some major bucks!
Of course, you don't necessarily have to fill all the blank spots to win, even if you just fill in certain sections, you can still win a nice chunk of change.
Anybody else out there playing the game, in need of game pieces?, or want to share a game board?... and split the winnings (if there are any)?
Anyway, if any of you ever dine at Mickey Dee's, then you're probably aware of the Monopoly game they put out once every year or so. Purchase certain food items, get a couple of game pieces... some are instant-win, others correspond to places on a Monopoly board. Collect all the pieces, and you can win some major bucks!
Of course, you don't necessarily have to fill all the blank spots to win, even if you just fill in certain sections, you can still win a nice chunk of change.
Anybody else out there playing the game, in need of game pieces?, or want to share a game board?... and split the winnings (if there are any)?
pin cushion
I had an appointment yesterday with my allergist, for a follow-up. I get my shot every 4 weeks, and a visit to the doctor to make some small talk about every 18 months. Yesterday was the bestest visit yet (and yes, I know bestest ain't good language).
After he burped in my face while looking up my nose (he did excuse himself), he asked if I wanted to take a chance at getting off of shots for good. Did I? Well, YEAH! Duh!! Who enjoys getting shots, aside from junkies? Not I! He warned that it may not work, read me the statistics on relapsing and having to start over from ground zero, etc. etc.
First, I'd need to get re-tested, so I needed to make an appointment for that. If I pass that without incident, then I can take the leap. If I still have reactions to the tests, then I'll have to continue with the shots. Hey, I'm game... nothing ventured, nothing gained! So now I have to go back on the 31st, and get 99 mini-injections in my back. Talk about feeling like a pin-cushion!!
I haven't taken allergy medicine in probably a year or more, as I've not had a need. My allergies rarely if ever bother me now. There are, however, things that irritate my sinuses, such as cigarette smoke and strong fragrances. I asked him about these things. He said those weren't allergy related, and put me on Astelyn (sp?) to help with those irritants. Grrr, back on meds. Not where I wanted to be, but I don't think I'd have much luck finding another job, that was fragrance free to boot.
Wish me luck!!
After he burped in my face while looking up my nose (he did excuse himself), he asked if I wanted to take a chance at getting off of shots for good. Did I? Well, YEAH! Duh!! Who enjoys getting shots, aside from junkies? Not I! He warned that it may not work, read me the statistics on relapsing and having to start over from ground zero, etc. etc.
First, I'd need to get re-tested, so I needed to make an appointment for that. If I pass that without incident, then I can take the leap. If I still have reactions to the tests, then I'll have to continue with the shots. Hey, I'm game... nothing ventured, nothing gained! So now I have to go back on the 31st, and get 99 mini-injections in my back. Talk about feeling like a pin-cushion!!
I haven't taken allergy medicine in probably a year or more, as I've not had a need. My allergies rarely if ever bother me now. There are, however, things that irritate my sinuses, such as cigarette smoke and strong fragrances. I asked him about these things. He said those weren't allergy related, and put me on Astelyn (sp?) to help with those irritants. Grrr, back on meds. Not where I wanted to be, but I don't think I'd have much luck finding another job, that was fragrance free to boot.
Wish me luck!!
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Somethings up
When I left work yesterday, headed to p.t., I noticed my car was running on fumes. I hopped off the interstate at exit 14 and while I was waiting to turn on to Hwy 329, I noticed one of Oldham County's finest pulled off the side of the road. No lights flashing, no car pulled over in front of him, just merely sitting there. Okay, seemed a little strange, but I didn't give it much thought, at least, not at that moment.
As I turned onto the lot of the Chevron, I noticed two more Oldham County police cars pulled off to the side of the lot, conversing (the officers, not the cars). I pulled up to one of the far gas pumps, and noticed a state trooper at one of the other pumps, another state trooper parked in front of the store, and an unmarked police car next to it.
Hmmm, somethings up.
Nobody was scrambling around, guns drawn, ducking for cover or filling out paperwork, so I didn't feel a robbery was or just had taken place. But still, something was up. Wonder what's going on?
While pumping gas, yet another state trooper drove past the station. Okay, now my curiousity is really piqued! That made 7 police cars in one small area at one time. That's not normal, especially since this wasn't a donut shop.
Once back on the interstate, I headed south towards 265. I was passed by another unmarked car, then I passed another Oldham Co. car sitting in the median. Okay, now we're up to 9 cars in less than a two-mile stretch of road. Now I'm really getting an uneasy feeling.
As I was merging from the ramp onto I-265, there sat a Louisville police officer, and yet antoher unmarked vehicle.
Okay, I couldn't take it anymore! I grabbed the cell phone & called the husband. Had he heard of anything going on? Was the president in town or something? No, he didn't know of anything.
I arrived at p.t. One of the girls asked if I'd gotten caught in the traffic from the wreck. I hadn't, said I didn't know anything about it. I told her mabye that's why there were so many cops around, and that I'd called my husband inquiring if the president was in town. She informed me I was close, that it was the V.P.
Oh, him. For a minute there I thought it was somebody important.
As I turned onto the lot of the Chevron, I noticed two more Oldham County police cars pulled off to the side of the lot, conversing (the officers, not the cars). I pulled up to one of the far gas pumps, and noticed a state trooper at one of the other pumps, another state trooper parked in front of the store, and an unmarked police car next to it.
Hmmm, somethings up.
Nobody was scrambling around, guns drawn, ducking for cover or filling out paperwork, so I didn't feel a robbery was or just had taken place. But still, something was up. Wonder what's going on?
While pumping gas, yet another state trooper drove past the station. Okay, now my curiousity is really piqued! That made 7 police cars in one small area at one time. That's not normal, especially since this wasn't a donut shop.
Once back on the interstate, I headed south towards 265. I was passed by another unmarked car, then I passed another Oldham Co. car sitting in the median. Okay, now we're up to 9 cars in less than a two-mile stretch of road. Now I'm really getting an uneasy feeling.
As I was merging from the ramp onto I-265, there sat a Louisville police officer, and yet antoher unmarked vehicle.
Okay, I couldn't take it anymore! I grabbed the cell phone & called the husband. Had he heard of anything going on? Was the president in town or something? No, he didn't know of anything.
I arrived at p.t. One of the girls asked if I'd gotten caught in the traffic from the wreck. I hadn't, said I didn't know anything about it. I told her mabye that's why there were so many cops around, and that I'd called my husband inquiring if the president was in town. She informed me I was close, that it was the V.P.
Oh, him. For a minute there I thought it was somebody important.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Whole lotta blogging goin' on
Fortunately, it's a slow day at the office. It seems we've been so very busy for the past month straight, that it's a much welcomed slow-day. Good thing too... this is my third blog of the morning, and I haven't even been here 3 hours yet. I have a lot on my mind, a lot of things I'd like to get off my chest, but alas, much of it will have to stay bottled up inside me, as some things are just taboo to write about. My seasoned readers probably have a good idea of what main topic(s) are off limit for me, from my past writing faux pas. So I'll let those issues lie... take a deep breath, count to 10, and try to move past them.
On to other thoughts!
If you're caught up on your reading (of my blogs), then I last left you on Friday with my story of how much I was disliking US Bank. I had at least hoped that when I last spoke with them that afternoon, that I wouldn't have to deal with them again until sometime today, if/when that woman called me to let me know if they'd ever picked up my car. That was my hope. But that was not to be.
Friday evening, around 7 or 8 o'clock, the husband & I stopped in Walmart to get furnace filters and a couple of other items, which quickly turned into a buggy full of "necessities". While I was checking out my purchases in the You-scan lane (meaning: I was scanning, John was standing their trying to stay out of my way), when his cell phone rang. It was again, US Bank. He tried to hand the phone to me. Um, excuse me, can you not see I'm busy here? So he starts trying to talk to the unknown person on the other end, and explain everything that's been happening up to this point, and I'm hearing him mangle the facts something awful. I'm getting more and more frustrated by the moment and wanted nothing more than to rip the phone from his hand and go off on the caller. But as there was a line of people behind me, I kept scanning and told the husband to tell the caller to wait 10 minutes and call us back, then I'd gladly talk to them. But did the husband do that? No, of course not. Instead he asks for their phone number (which didn't appear on the caller i.d.), and he did his best to remember the number, as he had nothing to write on.
Once in the car, I chastised him for not having them call me back (as a lab-monkey could've done that!). He insisted they couldn't do that. Why not?, they've been calling us almost daily for a week!!
He hands me his phone and tells me the number to dial. When the call went through, I was greeted with a recording for something not un-like "976-babe" and I was informed I'd be charged X number of dollars per minute to "chat". I hung up and glared at the husband. Wrong number! He gave me another number to try, this time changing the last number from a 5 to a 2.
This time I was connected to USBank, and the unfortunate young man that answered my call is, I'm sure, still regretting having gone into work that day. I unleashed 6 weeks worth of hassles, run-arounds, inconveniences, and fury on the poor guy. When I finished my verbal assault on him, he apologized profusely, stated that our account would be marked "closed", and that we'd be getting no further calls from them.
Hmm, we'll see.
When I hung up the phone, John just let out a long, low sigh. I think he was sweating, feeling the young man's misery, and just glad that it hadn't been directed at him.
I'm telling ya folks, stay away from USBank, and stay away from leasing vehicles!
On to other thoughts!
If you're caught up on your reading (of my blogs), then I last left you on Friday with my story of how much I was disliking US Bank. I had at least hoped that when I last spoke with them that afternoon, that I wouldn't have to deal with them again until sometime today, if/when that woman called me to let me know if they'd ever picked up my car. That was my hope. But that was not to be.
Friday evening, around 7 or 8 o'clock, the husband & I stopped in Walmart to get furnace filters and a couple of other items, which quickly turned into a buggy full of "necessities". While I was checking out my purchases in the You-scan lane (meaning: I was scanning, John was standing their trying to stay out of my way), when his cell phone rang. It was again, US Bank. He tried to hand the phone to me. Um, excuse me, can you not see I'm busy here? So he starts trying to talk to the unknown person on the other end, and explain everything that's been happening up to this point, and I'm hearing him mangle the facts something awful. I'm getting more and more frustrated by the moment and wanted nothing more than to rip the phone from his hand and go off on the caller. But as there was a line of people behind me, I kept scanning and told the husband to tell the caller to wait 10 minutes and call us back, then I'd gladly talk to them. But did the husband do that? No, of course not. Instead he asks for their phone number (which didn't appear on the caller i.d.), and he did his best to remember the number, as he had nothing to write on.
Once in the car, I chastised him for not having them call me back (as a lab-monkey could've done that!). He insisted they couldn't do that. Why not?, they've been calling us almost daily for a week!!
He hands me his phone and tells me the number to dial. When the call went through, I was greeted with a recording for something not un-like "976-babe" and I was informed I'd be charged X number of dollars per minute to "chat". I hung up and glared at the husband. Wrong number! He gave me another number to try, this time changing the last number from a 5 to a 2.
This time I was connected to USBank, and the unfortunate young man that answered my call is, I'm sure, still regretting having gone into work that day. I unleashed 6 weeks worth of hassles, run-arounds, inconveniences, and fury on the poor guy. When I finished my verbal assault on him, he apologized profusely, stated that our account would be marked "closed", and that we'd be getting no further calls from them.
Hmm, we'll see.
When I hung up the phone, John just let out a long, low sigh. I think he was sweating, feeling the young man's misery, and just glad that it hadn't been directed at him.
I'm telling ya folks, stay away from USBank, and stay away from leasing vehicles!
Here today, gone tomorrow
Last evening, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air. As usual, my first thought was, "wonder if they're headed to Mrs. S's house?" As I stepped out on the front porch, the husband echoed my thoughts out loud, and we stood there, waiting, watching... where would the fire truck be going?
----
Gotta stop for a moment here... I'm sure many of you are asking "John's a fireman, wouldn't he know where the trucks are headed?" If it were a fire-run, yes, his pager would've gone off and he'd gone off too. But if it's a medical-assist run, then No, his pager doesn't go off, and he remains as clueless as the rest of us.
-----
As we stood there, sure enough, the firetruck turned into our subdivision. We were completely expecting it to speed on past and turn down the court behind us. Imagine our surprise when they slowed and made the turn onto our court. Now the worry is stepped up a notch. The first thought is always the elderly... so now my worry turned to neighor "MM"... sorry MM, if you're reading this. Don't mean to imply that you're old, but certainly the most "senior" neighbor on our street (that I know of).
The truck went on past MM's house (whew!) and swerved over to the left hand side. Okay, I don't know any of those people down in that area, so while I don't want to see anyone sick or hurt, at least it's not anyone I know or care about.
John took off trotting down the street to lend assistance if needed.
Neighbors were coming out of their homes, drawn by the loud sirens and flashing lights. We gawked, speculated, waited. Then come more sirens...the ambulance had arrived. Another neighbor was returning home and stopped her car in the street to ask me what was going on. As I stooped to tell her my speculations, a maroon Crown Vic turned onto our street and drove way, WAY too fast down the court. I'm cussing them to slow down.
As we're watching, the stretcher is being loaded into the ambulance, and a woman jumps from the C.V., I think before it had even stopped moving. She starts screaming hysterically and jumping up and down in the street. Now the real drama was beginning! From out observation point several houses away, we couldn't hear what the woman was screaming, but it almost appearred as if pushing & shoving were going to take place. This was getting better than a friday-night suspense movie.
Once the patient was loaded and took off, hysterical-woman got back in her car and it roared off too. Other family members were piling into their cars in pursuit of the ambulance. John came running back up the street, hollering for his keys. Now that the duty-crew from the fire house was short a person (as one of the guys had road out on the ambulance), John was going to go stand-by at the station until the staff was complete again. But, I wasn't letting him go anywhere until I had the low-down.
Apparently the mother of the woman that lived in the house was staying there, and had choked on a piece of meat. From what I'm gathering, they lost her at one point (ie, no pulse), and had to revive her.
When John got back home last night, I inquired if he knew of her condition. Last he'd heard, she was still alive, but not doing very well at all.
I'm hoping this morning finds her better, and if not already returned home, then at least, will be returning home soon.
We hadn't met those neighbors yet... they just moved in over the summer, and quite honestly, there's such a turn-over of families in that area of the street (lot of renters it seems), that we usually don't take the time to foster any friendships. Now I feel bad that John had to meet them under such circumstances.
On a slightly different note (sort of, but not really)...
One of John's co-workers, and a man that I met a couple of years before meeting John, passed away over the weekend. I'm not sure of Dave's age, I'd guess between 57 & 62. He always seemed in fairly good health to me (but then, I usually only see him once or twice a year, if that, since I left the company). Anyway, somebody found him at his home, dead (John wasn't sure if he was in his car, or working on his car), but what a horrible way to go. We just never know when our number is up.
Live life to the fullest. It's too short!!
----
Gotta stop for a moment here... I'm sure many of you are asking "John's a fireman, wouldn't he know where the trucks are headed?" If it were a fire-run, yes, his pager would've gone off and he'd gone off too. But if it's a medical-assist run, then No, his pager doesn't go off, and he remains as clueless as the rest of us.
-----
As we stood there, sure enough, the firetruck turned into our subdivision. We were completely expecting it to speed on past and turn down the court behind us. Imagine our surprise when they slowed and made the turn onto our court. Now the worry is stepped up a notch. The first thought is always the elderly... so now my worry turned to neighor "MM"... sorry MM, if you're reading this. Don't mean to imply that you're old, but certainly the most "senior" neighbor on our street (that I know of).
The truck went on past MM's house (whew!) and swerved over to the left hand side. Okay, I don't know any of those people down in that area, so while I don't want to see anyone sick or hurt, at least it's not anyone I know or care about.
John took off trotting down the street to lend assistance if needed.
Neighbors were coming out of their homes, drawn by the loud sirens and flashing lights. We gawked, speculated, waited. Then come more sirens...the ambulance had arrived. Another neighbor was returning home and stopped her car in the street to ask me what was going on. As I stooped to tell her my speculations, a maroon Crown Vic turned onto our street and drove way, WAY too fast down the court. I'm cussing them to slow down.
As we're watching, the stretcher is being loaded into the ambulance, and a woman jumps from the C.V., I think before it had even stopped moving. She starts screaming hysterically and jumping up and down in the street. Now the real drama was beginning! From out observation point several houses away, we couldn't hear what the woman was screaming, but it almost appearred as if pushing & shoving were going to take place. This was getting better than a friday-night suspense movie.
Once the patient was loaded and took off, hysterical-woman got back in her car and it roared off too. Other family members were piling into their cars in pursuit of the ambulance. John came running back up the street, hollering for his keys. Now that the duty-crew from the fire house was short a person (as one of the guys had road out on the ambulance), John was going to go stand-by at the station until the staff was complete again. But, I wasn't letting him go anywhere until I had the low-down.
Apparently the mother of the woman that lived in the house was staying there, and had choked on a piece of meat. From what I'm gathering, they lost her at one point (ie, no pulse), and had to revive her.
When John got back home last night, I inquired if he knew of her condition. Last he'd heard, she was still alive, but not doing very well at all.
I'm hoping this morning finds her better, and if not already returned home, then at least, will be returning home soon.
We hadn't met those neighbors yet... they just moved in over the summer, and quite honestly, there's such a turn-over of families in that area of the street (lot of renters it seems), that we usually don't take the time to foster any friendships. Now I feel bad that John had to meet them under such circumstances.
On a slightly different note (sort of, but not really)...
One of John's co-workers, and a man that I met a couple of years before meeting John, passed away over the weekend. I'm not sure of Dave's age, I'd guess between 57 & 62. He always seemed in fairly good health to me (but then, I usually only see him once or twice a year, if that, since I left the company). Anyway, somebody found him at his home, dead (John wasn't sure if he was in his car, or working on his car), but what a horrible way to go. We just never know when our number is up.
Live life to the fullest. It's too short!!
Going senile?
Well, I must be losing my mind. Two saturdays ago, I went to the Chocolate Scrapbook, as I had a coupon I'd been wanting to use, and it was close to expiring. Imagine my surprise when I got there and saw a huge "going out of business" sign in the window. Everything in the store was on sale for 30-75% off... so much for using my coupon. I went in and had a field-day!
Among the items I purchased was a scrapbook with a Coca-Cola theme. I would never have paid the regular price marked on it, but since it was marked way down... I thought, what the heck? I've got gobs of pictures at home from different company functions and from my glory-days at Coke. As I was rummaging through the racks upon racks of paper, I came across some Coca-Cola themed paper. I started to pick it up and add it to my basket, but then decided against it, as I was sure I already had some at home. Now I know, sure as my name is Pita-Woman, that there were at least two, if not three or more (but definately 2) different designs of Coke paper on that shelf.
Later that evening as I sat down to start on that book, I got to looking through my drawers of paper, and guess what?... needless to say, I didn't have any Coke paper after all. Grrrr! Now I was kicking myself. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it back over to that store for at least a week, and I feared it would all be sold out.
Saturday morning, I made a bee-line back over there and searched the store high & low. No Coke paper to be found. : (
I asked the Queen at the register if they had sold out, and Queen promptly informed me that they had never carried it. They'd ordered it several times, but it was always on back order, and had never gotten any in.
Me: But, you had it when I was here last week.
Queen: No, no, no, wasn't here. Maybe it was at our New Albany store (long since closed down).
Me: No, I've never been to that store.
Queen: Well, it wasn't here.
Me: But I didn't go any place else last weekend.
Queen: All we've ever had was the Coke scrapbook.
Me: Yeah, I got that. But you had the paper. I saw it. At least 2 different designs!
Queen: No, sorry, wasn't this store.
ARGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
So now I'm questioning my sanity. Did I really see the paper? I was sure I had. I remember the designs so vividly. Did I dream it?
I've never seen Queen in here on the other occasions I've been in here, perhaps Queen doesn't know jack-sh!t about what this store has carried in the past.
Just to be on the safe side, I stopped at Wal-mart & Michaels, and they didn't have the paper either.
Am I going senile?? Did I imagine it??
Among the items I purchased was a scrapbook with a Coca-Cola theme. I would never have paid the regular price marked on it, but since it was marked way down... I thought, what the heck? I've got gobs of pictures at home from different company functions and from my glory-days at Coke. As I was rummaging through the racks upon racks of paper, I came across some Coca-Cola themed paper. I started to pick it up and add it to my basket, but then decided against it, as I was sure I already had some at home. Now I know, sure as my name is Pita-Woman, that there were at least two, if not three or more (but definately 2) different designs of Coke paper on that shelf.
Later that evening as I sat down to start on that book, I got to looking through my drawers of paper, and guess what?... needless to say, I didn't have any Coke paper after all. Grrrr! Now I was kicking myself. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it back over to that store for at least a week, and I feared it would all be sold out.
Saturday morning, I made a bee-line back over there and searched the store high & low. No Coke paper to be found. : (
I asked the Queen at the register if they had sold out, and Queen promptly informed me that they had never carried it. They'd ordered it several times, but it was always on back order, and had never gotten any in.
Me: But, you had it when I was here last week.
Queen: No, no, no, wasn't here. Maybe it was at our New Albany store (long since closed down).
Me: No, I've never been to that store.
Queen: Well, it wasn't here.
Me: But I didn't go any place else last weekend.
Queen: All we've ever had was the Coke scrapbook.
Me: Yeah, I got that. But you had the paper. I saw it. At least 2 different designs!
Queen: No, sorry, wasn't this store.
ARGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
So now I'm questioning my sanity. Did I really see the paper? I was sure I had. I remember the designs so vividly. Did I dream it?
I've never seen Queen in here on the other occasions I've been in here, perhaps Queen doesn't know jack-sh!t about what this store has carried in the past.
Just to be on the safe side, I stopped at Wal-mart & Michaels, and they didn't have the paper either.
Am I going senile?? Did I imagine it??
Friday, October 13, 2006
My Vue on US Bank
US Bank sucks. Plain & simple, they suck.
Years ago, I used to do my banking with Great Financial, and I loved it! Then suddenly, out of the blue, they were bought out by Star Bank (or maybe it was Firstar Bank). I wasn't happy about it, but decided to go with the flow. They closed down the branch on Westport Rd., and while they were building a new branch near Springhurst, they opened a temporary branch in a construction-trailer. It sucked. All the personnel from the old location were gone, and new people (might I add, totally clueless! people) had taken their place. I wasn't happy, but still, I stuck it out.
Then, before the new, permanent branch is even half-way through being constructed, they inform us (the customers) that they are changing names again, this time to Firstar (or maybe it was just Star this time). Now I'm getting really p.o.'d. They were changing my account number, demanding to see i.d. everytime I wanted to make a deposit... a deposit for crying out loud!!, it wasn't like I was even trying to take money out of the account, just put it in. Then something happened one day, I don't even remember what it was now, but it was enough to upset me so I called the bank manager to complain about it (shocking, I know), and he had the audacity to hang up on me. It was some young twirp that hadn't quite sharpened his people-skills yet. I called back, and after telling him he'd hung up on me, and not receiving an apology from young-twirp, I didn't even bother telling him my original complaint. Just told him right then & there he'd lost a customer, as I was closing my account, post-haste!! And I did, and I've had no regrets.
Fast-forward several years, when we got our Mazda back in '01, the lease was financed through, what else?, US Bank, which had bought out the Star/Firstar Bank. Arghhh, can't I get away from these people???
Okay, things are going along fairly smoothly for the duration of the lease, until time to turn the lease vehicle in. I know I blogged about that last week, how they lost my payment in inter-company mail, I had to put a stop-payment on it and re-issue the check, how they "lost" my Mazda, only to discover that it was sitting on the back lot of the Saturn dealership because nobody from US Bank had picked it up yet...
Now we're up to date, and it's Friday the 13th. Not a good thing.
My huband got a call at work this week from USBank, because we were now some 43 days past due on our account. They wanted to know where their money was. John told them to call me, as I had all the info on what was going on. They didn't call. Instead, we get a past-due notice in the mail, demanding payment. I'm really getting tired of all this!!
I checked my checking account today, the check STILL hasn't cleared my bank. I called USBank... the first number I called I got a recording that the offices were closed due to bad weather (okay, the 20+ inches in Buffalo, NY perhaps is a viable excuse), so I called another number, spoke w/Michelle. She checked my account, still no payment received. I'm beginning to feel physically ill at this point. I've already incurred one stop-payment charge, was I going to have to incur another one? Was I going to have to drive the payment to Oshkosh Wisconsin and hand-deliver it myself??? What seems to be the problem here???
Michelle put me on hold and did some investigating, finally came back and said they had received the payment the day before, and that it would be posted to my account today. FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
However, she couldn't tell me whether or not the car had ever been picked up. She gave me yet another number to call. I did, was put on hold for about 9 minutes before finally speaking to Mary. Mary confirmed that the payment was received, my late fees retracted, but didn't know about my missing car. She told me to call the number in Buffalo, but I told her it was pointless.
Truly, I've never had such a miserable experience with a bank in all my life. If I never again have to do business with a US Bank, it will be too soon.
US Bank sucks!!
Years ago, I used to do my banking with Great Financial, and I loved it! Then suddenly, out of the blue, they were bought out by Star Bank (or maybe it was Firstar Bank). I wasn't happy about it, but decided to go with the flow. They closed down the branch on Westport Rd., and while they were building a new branch near Springhurst, they opened a temporary branch in a construction-trailer. It sucked. All the personnel from the old location were gone, and new people (might I add, totally clueless! people) had taken their place. I wasn't happy, but still, I stuck it out.
Then, before the new, permanent branch is even half-way through being constructed, they inform us (the customers) that they are changing names again, this time to Firstar (or maybe it was just Star this time). Now I'm getting really p.o.'d. They were changing my account number, demanding to see i.d. everytime I wanted to make a deposit... a deposit for crying out loud!!, it wasn't like I was even trying to take money out of the account, just put it in. Then something happened one day, I don't even remember what it was now, but it was enough to upset me so I called the bank manager to complain about it (shocking, I know), and he had the audacity to hang up on me. It was some young twirp that hadn't quite sharpened his people-skills yet. I called back, and after telling him he'd hung up on me, and not receiving an apology from young-twirp, I didn't even bother telling him my original complaint. Just told him right then & there he'd lost a customer, as I was closing my account, post-haste!! And I did, and I've had no regrets.
Fast-forward several years, when we got our Mazda back in '01, the lease was financed through, what else?, US Bank, which had bought out the Star/Firstar Bank. Arghhh, can't I get away from these people???
Okay, things are going along fairly smoothly for the duration of the lease, until time to turn the lease vehicle in. I know I blogged about that last week, how they lost my payment in inter-company mail, I had to put a stop-payment on it and re-issue the check, how they "lost" my Mazda, only to discover that it was sitting on the back lot of the Saturn dealership because nobody from US Bank had picked it up yet...
Now we're up to date, and it's Friday the 13th. Not a good thing.
My huband got a call at work this week from USBank, because we were now some 43 days past due on our account. They wanted to know where their money was. John told them to call me, as I had all the info on what was going on. They didn't call. Instead, we get a past-due notice in the mail, demanding payment. I'm really getting tired of all this!!
I checked my checking account today, the check STILL hasn't cleared my bank. I called USBank... the first number I called I got a recording that the offices were closed due to bad weather (okay, the 20+ inches in Buffalo, NY perhaps is a viable excuse), so I called another number, spoke w/Michelle. She checked my account, still no payment received. I'm beginning to feel physically ill at this point. I've already incurred one stop-payment charge, was I going to have to incur another one? Was I going to have to drive the payment to Oshkosh Wisconsin and hand-deliver it myself??? What seems to be the problem here???
Michelle put me on hold and did some investigating, finally came back and said they had received the payment the day before, and that it would be posted to my account today. FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
However, she couldn't tell me whether or not the car had ever been picked up. She gave me yet another number to call. I did, was put on hold for about 9 minutes before finally speaking to Mary. Mary confirmed that the payment was received, my late fees retracted, but didn't know about my missing car. She told me to call the number in Buffalo, but I told her it was pointless.
Truly, I've never had such a miserable experience with a bank in all my life. If I never again have to do business with a US Bank, it will be too soon.
US Bank sucks!!
Thursday, October 12, 2006
14, 15, 16, 9, 10, 27, 28
14, 15, 16, 9, 10, 27, 28... Those numbers don't make much sense in that order, do they? That's what I was contending with at p.t. last night. I absolutely wanted to scream!
Each of us in p.t. is given a routine of exercises to follow: stretching exercises, 2 reps for 30 seconds each, and all others, 2 reps for 25 counts (or, at least, I'm up to 25... we start at 15 and eventually work our way up). When doing my routine, if it involves "seconds", I use my watch to know when the 30 seconds are up. If it's counting reps, then I usually close my eyes or stare at the ceiling and count to myself (in my head!). This is what most people do. After all, it is the polite thing to do, that way you're not distracting anyone around you.
Before I go any further, let me just say this: there are signs posted around the facility that if you feel it necessary to bring your child with you, then you're asked that you keep your child either in the "nursery area" (filled with kids toys, tv, all kinds of kid things), or that the child stay with you (the PARENT!!) at all times.
Please, don't jump to conclusions here... I'm not anti-children. I just happen to think there is a time and a place for them, and running amok at p.t. isn't one of those places.
Okay, back to what I was originally talking about... so I'm lying on the table, preparing to do my routine, when another regular patient comes in and lies on the table next to me. This time, she's brought her 3 year old son, Tee, with her. Well, Tee didn't want to stay in the kids room, he wanted to stay with mom. Okay, fine. Would it be asking too much for the child to just sit in the floor next to her table and watch her? I don't think so. But apparently she felt that Tee had to be kept occupied, so she has him counting her reps for her. So while I'm counting to myself, 15, 16, 17... she's counting out loud, 5, 6, 7, 8... and Tee, who really can't count sequentially beyond 4 yet, is randomly calling out numbers, 5, 12, 2, 19, 7... okay, ... while I should now be at ...18, 19, 20... I now find myself at 8, 9, no, that's not right, um, 21?, 22, 23, 10, 11... no, that's not it... oh!, I've probably done enough of this exercise, just move on to the next. 1, 2, 3, 21, 22, 9, 11,... ARGHHHHH!!!! Darn this woman and her kid!!!
Fine, time to flip over, face down, and lift my weights. The kid had better move, or he's going to get bashed in the chin or nose every time I raise my arm.
Okay, aside from the counting issue with Tee, I will admit he was one of the better behaved children I've seen in there. On Monday, one woman brought two of her little darlings in, and turned them loose like it was a playground. One of the little darlings ran around pestering patient after patient, throwing tempertantrums when people ignored her, then kept screaming at the top of her lungs when the main physical therapist wouldn't come play with her because she was too busy working with patients. The other darling decided she needed to play on the treadmill. I must make note here that the treadmill was broken last night & I didn't get to use it... I can't help but wonder if it broke as a result of children playing on it.
The patient files have color-coded dots on the front of them. I don't know what the dots stand for, but obviously the employees do. The files are laid out on a counter so that the technicians can mark things on our daily sheets as we complete our routines. The other day, yet another of these little darlings had started going through the cabinet, found a sheet of the colored dots, and decided to do some re-decorating, by slapping different colored dots randomly on the files.
Okay, I gotta ask, where are the parents?? Sometimes, I just want to grab these parents by their pony-tails (because, as much as I hate to admit it, it's always the young mothers that have the little kids with them) and slap the taste out of their mouths!
A friend recently stated that she'd asked her mother why parents would haul all the young children and their paraphernalia into restaurants, etc.... wasn't it a hassle? Her mom replied, yes, but by taking them out in public, that's how they learn to behave properly. So here's where I have to argue that point... these children only learn how to properly behave, if the parent is there to supervise them, admonish/correct them when they do wrong, praise them for doing well. If the parent is letting the child do anything/everything they want, they aren't learning proper public behavior. But then, I have to wonder if the parent knows how to properly behave in public.
Each of us in p.t. is given a routine of exercises to follow: stretching exercises, 2 reps for 30 seconds each, and all others, 2 reps for 25 counts (or, at least, I'm up to 25... we start at 15 and eventually work our way up). When doing my routine, if it involves "seconds", I use my watch to know when the 30 seconds are up. If it's counting reps, then I usually close my eyes or stare at the ceiling and count to myself (in my head!). This is what most people do. After all, it is the polite thing to do, that way you're not distracting anyone around you.
Before I go any further, let me just say this: there are signs posted around the facility that if you feel it necessary to bring your child with you, then you're asked that you keep your child either in the "nursery area" (filled with kids toys, tv, all kinds of kid things), or that the child stay with you (the PARENT!!) at all times.
Please, don't jump to conclusions here... I'm not anti-children. I just happen to think there is a time and a place for them, and running amok at p.t. isn't one of those places.
Okay, back to what I was originally talking about... so I'm lying on the table, preparing to do my routine, when another regular patient comes in and lies on the table next to me. This time, she's brought her 3 year old son, Tee, with her. Well, Tee didn't want to stay in the kids room, he wanted to stay with mom. Okay, fine. Would it be asking too much for the child to just sit in the floor next to her table and watch her? I don't think so. But apparently she felt that Tee had to be kept occupied, so she has him counting her reps for her. So while I'm counting to myself, 15, 16, 17... she's counting out loud, 5, 6, 7, 8... and Tee, who really can't count sequentially beyond 4 yet, is randomly calling out numbers, 5, 12, 2, 19, 7... okay, ... while I should now be at ...18, 19, 20... I now find myself at 8, 9, no, that's not right, um, 21?, 22, 23, 10, 11... no, that's not it... oh!, I've probably done enough of this exercise, just move on to the next. 1, 2, 3, 21, 22, 9, 11,... ARGHHHHH!!!! Darn this woman and her kid!!!
Fine, time to flip over, face down, and lift my weights. The kid had better move, or he's going to get bashed in the chin or nose every time I raise my arm.
Okay, aside from the counting issue with Tee, I will admit he was one of the better behaved children I've seen in there. On Monday, one woman brought two of her little darlings in, and turned them loose like it was a playground. One of the little darlings ran around pestering patient after patient, throwing tempertantrums when people ignored her, then kept screaming at the top of her lungs when the main physical therapist wouldn't come play with her because she was too busy working with patients. The other darling decided she needed to play on the treadmill. I must make note here that the treadmill was broken last night & I didn't get to use it... I can't help but wonder if it broke as a result of children playing on it.
The patient files have color-coded dots on the front of them. I don't know what the dots stand for, but obviously the employees do. The files are laid out on a counter so that the technicians can mark things on our daily sheets as we complete our routines. The other day, yet another of these little darlings had started going through the cabinet, found a sheet of the colored dots, and decided to do some re-decorating, by slapping different colored dots randomly on the files.
Okay, I gotta ask, where are the parents?? Sometimes, I just want to grab these parents by their pony-tails (because, as much as I hate to admit it, it's always the young mothers that have the little kids with them) and slap the taste out of their mouths!
A friend recently stated that she'd asked her mother why parents would haul all the young children and their paraphernalia into restaurants, etc.... wasn't it a hassle? Her mom replied, yes, but by taking them out in public, that's how they learn to behave properly. So here's where I have to argue that point... these children only learn how to properly behave, if the parent is there to supervise them, admonish/correct them when they do wrong, praise them for doing well. If the parent is letting the child do anything/everything they want, they aren't learning proper public behavior. But then, I have to wonder if the parent knows how to properly behave in public.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Jeckyll & Hyde
I suppose we all have two sides to us... the side our very closest of family & friends see, and then the side that everyone else sees. This is definitely true of my husband... everybody, and I do mean EVERYBODY else only sees his good side. I honestly believe I'm the only one that ever sees his bad side and even knows he has a bad side. Most find it hard to believe when I make mention of some of his pissy attitudes. But, he's not alone here...
I know I'm guilty of being J&H... please don't confuse this with being 2-faced. It's hardly the same thing.
My Jeckyll & Hyde personas are as follows: to most who don't know me, or haven't gotten to really know me, I probably seem like, or come across as, a rather cold-hearted bitch, uncaring-don't-give-a-darn, mad at the world, Miss Negativity... you get the picture. And I suppose at times, on occasions, that is true.
But my other side, and I like to think this is the real me (although some of you may disagree), I'm very emotional, get my feelings hurt easily, cry over non-consequential things at times, big-hearted, and am basically a big softy.
Please, some of you control your laughter. Don't wet your pants and don't hurt yourselves laughing too hard. Pick yourself up off the floor and hear me out!
I bring all this up for two reasons, both of which came to light in the past 48 hours.
One of the girls at bunco last night mentioned that when she first met me (and I may not be quoting her exactly) she thought I had no emotions. Now that she's gotten to know me, I'm one of the most emotional people she knows.
The second thing, I've gotten my feelings so hurt over something that has happened this week. At first, I swore up and down I wasn't going to mention any names that had offended me, but then 24 hours later, after getting them hurt a little more, I couldn't help but name names to a friend that was commiserating with me via email. Then less than two hours later, I was just about back to normal, ready to forgive (almost ready, but not quite there yet) the person that initially offended me.
Jeckyll & Hyde? Yeah, it would seem so.
Ah but heck, maybe I need to check the calendar, perhaps it's just p.m.s. sneaking up on me.
I know I'm guilty of being J&H... please don't confuse this with being 2-faced. It's hardly the same thing.
My Jeckyll & Hyde personas are as follows: to most who don't know me, or haven't gotten to really know me, I probably seem like, or come across as, a rather cold-hearted bitch, uncaring-don't-give-a-darn, mad at the world, Miss Negativity... you get the picture. And I suppose at times, on occasions, that is true.
But my other side, and I like to think this is the real me (although some of you may disagree), I'm very emotional, get my feelings hurt easily, cry over non-consequential things at times, big-hearted, and am basically a big softy.
Please, some of you control your laughter. Don't wet your pants and don't hurt yourselves laughing too hard. Pick yourself up off the floor and hear me out!
I bring all this up for two reasons, both of which came to light in the past 48 hours.
One of the girls at bunco last night mentioned that when she first met me (and I may not be quoting her exactly) she thought I had no emotions. Now that she's gotten to know me, I'm one of the most emotional people she knows.
The second thing, I've gotten my feelings so hurt over something that has happened this week. At first, I swore up and down I wasn't going to mention any names that had offended me, but then 24 hours later, after getting them hurt a little more, I couldn't help but name names to a friend that was commiserating with me via email. Then less than two hours later, I was just about back to normal, ready to forgive (almost ready, but not quite there yet) the person that initially offended me.
Jeckyll & Hyde? Yeah, it would seem so.
Ah but heck, maybe I need to check the calendar, perhaps it's just p.m.s. sneaking up on me.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Random Thoughts
More of my random musings...
As mentioned in a previous blog, my shoulder was aching fiercly yesterday. I went to p.t., had to skip a couple of my scheduled exercises because the pain was too intense. When finally it was my turn with the chiropractor, he questioned me about this new ache, he looked me over, felt the spine in my neck, made a quick adjustment to it and to the shoulder, and WOW!, it was like someone had flipped a light switch. Aside from feeling a little tender, I could now suddenly raise my arm and move it all around without problem. This is sooo cool!! I just love chiropractic medicine! : )
Did you know that the actor, Oliver Platt (I just love that guy!!), is a cousin (3rd I think) to the late Diana, Princess of Wales.
Tonight is Bunco night. Can't wait!!
Only 8 more days (working days that is) 'til vacation. Woo-Hoo
I had a dream the other night that I was standing in line at the store, and it truly wasn't moving. In line behind me was a skinny young twit dressed in yellow. Even though she was skinny, she did have just the slightest belly bulge. I wondered if she was expecting. Finally "twit" started talking about babies, yadda, yadda, so I felt she must be. She finally said to me, "You're huge! When are you due?"
I said, "I know I'm huge, but this is my natural state. I'm not expecting."
Maybe this dream was my inner-self telling me that it's time to get serious and lose some weight... again. Yeah, I know I need to lose it, but getting motivated is another story. I should be motivated by my "work-outs" at p.t. I'm developing muscle tone in several places, only to be surrounded by chub in other areas. I'll truly look like a mis-shapen blob before it's over.
The doc did compliment me and boost my spirits yesterday by telling me how proud he was of me for sticking to my scheduled therapy, and that I was standing taller. Yes, it did make me feel good, because I know he meant it. I see way, way too many people in there giving it half an effort or doing more standing around talking than working out... it's like social-hour for them, and they wonder why they aren't getting better!
Downside to going away on our vacation: we'll miss the grand-opening of the new Costco by our house. : (
As mentioned in a previous blog, my shoulder was aching fiercly yesterday. I went to p.t., had to skip a couple of my scheduled exercises because the pain was too intense. When finally it was my turn with the chiropractor, he questioned me about this new ache, he looked me over, felt the spine in my neck, made a quick adjustment to it and to the shoulder, and WOW!, it was like someone had flipped a light switch. Aside from feeling a little tender, I could now suddenly raise my arm and move it all around without problem. This is sooo cool!! I just love chiropractic medicine! : )
Did you know that the actor, Oliver Platt (I just love that guy!!), is a cousin (3rd I think) to the late Diana, Princess of Wales.
Tonight is Bunco night. Can't wait!!
Only 8 more days (working days that is) 'til vacation. Woo-Hoo
I had a dream the other night that I was standing in line at the store, and it truly wasn't moving. In line behind me was a skinny young twit dressed in yellow. Even though she was skinny, she did have just the slightest belly bulge. I wondered if she was expecting. Finally "twit" started talking about babies, yadda, yadda, so I felt she must be. She finally said to me, "You're huge! When are you due?"
I said, "I know I'm huge, but this is my natural state. I'm not expecting."
Maybe this dream was my inner-self telling me that it's time to get serious and lose some weight... again. Yeah, I know I need to lose it, but getting motivated is another story. I should be motivated by my "work-outs" at p.t. I'm developing muscle tone in several places, only to be surrounded by chub in other areas. I'll truly look like a mis-shapen blob before it's over.
The doc did compliment me and boost my spirits yesterday by telling me how proud he was of me for sticking to my scheduled therapy, and that I was standing taller. Yes, it did make me feel good, because I know he meant it. I see way, way too many people in there giving it half an effort or doing more standing around talking than working out... it's like social-hour for them, and they wonder why they aren't getting better!
Downside to going away on our vacation: we'll miss the grand-opening of the new Costco by our house. : (
Monday, October 09, 2006
A little truth in advertising, please...
As I was sitting here, getting caught up on my much neglected stack of coupons, I was struck by the absurdity of some of the ads within...
All these ads for women's beauty products, (hair coloring is what I'm mostly amazed at), I can't help but wonder if the advertisers really think we're dumb enough to believe that these mega-million-dollar actresses and models actually use their products? I seriously doubt that these women go to the grocery store or the nearest Wal-mart and pick up a package of Nice 'n' Easy or Miss Clairol (or whatever!), and then go home and color their own hair. Be serious!! These women go to the top salons in Beverly Hills, Manhattan, Palm Springs or jet over to Paris for a day of pampering. Apply their own hair color themselves, and for just a few bucks? Puh-leeze!!!!
All these ads for women's beauty products, (hair coloring is what I'm mostly amazed at), I can't help but wonder if the advertisers really think we're dumb enough to believe that these mega-million-dollar actresses and models actually use their products? I seriously doubt that these women go to the grocery store or the nearest Wal-mart and pick up a package of Nice 'n' Easy or Miss Clairol (or whatever!), and then go home and color their own hair. Be serious!! These women go to the top salons in Beverly Hills, Manhattan, Palm Springs or jet over to Paris for a day of pampering. Apply their own hair color themselves, and for just a few bucks? Puh-leeze!!!!
And the winner is....
OLIVIA!!!!!!!!!
I'm delighted to report that Olivia won the bragging rights in the "my pet rocks" contest, just like her big brother Eliott did 8 months ago. Now I need to wait a few months and come up with a sob story for Bootsy, see if we can get her to make it a clean-sweep. Thanks to everyone who voted for my little princess. : )
Well, if it's not one thing, it's another... Now that the aches/pains in my back have all but totally disappeared, I've developed a new ache over the weekend, this one located in my right shoulder. I woke up with it hurting Saturday morning, and it's getting progressively worse. It was all I could do to shift gears while driving to work this morning. That's all I need!, a new set of aches.
As great as vacations are, and I am totally looking forward to mine later this month (woo-hoo, only 9 more work days remaining!!), they really make the paycheck sucks, at least where the husband's check is concerned. : (
Speaking of vacations... I hope this fabulous weather we've been having holds out. We have every intention of going camping. Hopefully we won't have to dodge high-winds, tornadoes and torrential rains this time.
I made the trek to Turner's Station yesterday for a load of dogfood... 356 pounds of dog-food, and it only cost me $147.25, I was quite happy. Those "thornybucks" really come in handy to lower the cost of feeding my babies. If any of my kind readers feed their dogs Purina products (except for Beneful & Mainstay varieties), and if you take a notion, I could really use the weight circles off of your food bags. They really do add up after a while. : )
I made it my weekend-long project to get my class-reunion photos put into a scrapbook. Done in orange & blue (school colors, what else??), it doesn't look half bad if I do say so myself. I don't like to over-embellish, and sometimes I feel I lack the imagination (as I wasn't born with a decorating gene) to make it really eye-catching, but it'll suffice. Better than just having them stuffed into envelopes, never to be seen again.
Have a fabulous week everyone!!
I'm delighted to report that Olivia won the bragging rights in the "my pet rocks" contest, just like her big brother Eliott did 8 months ago. Now I need to wait a few months and come up with a sob story for Bootsy, see if we can get her to make it a clean-sweep. Thanks to everyone who voted for my little princess. : )
Well, if it's not one thing, it's another... Now that the aches/pains in my back have all but totally disappeared, I've developed a new ache over the weekend, this one located in my right shoulder. I woke up with it hurting Saturday morning, and it's getting progressively worse. It was all I could do to shift gears while driving to work this morning. That's all I need!, a new set of aches.
As great as vacations are, and I am totally looking forward to mine later this month (woo-hoo, only 9 more work days remaining!!), they really make the paycheck sucks, at least where the husband's check is concerned. : (
Speaking of vacations... I hope this fabulous weather we've been having holds out. We have every intention of going camping. Hopefully we won't have to dodge high-winds, tornadoes and torrential rains this time.
I made the trek to Turner's Station yesterday for a load of dogfood... 356 pounds of dog-food, and it only cost me $147.25, I was quite happy. Those "thornybucks" really come in handy to lower the cost of feeding my babies. If any of my kind readers feed their dogs Purina products (except for Beneful & Mainstay varieties), and if you take a notion, I could really use the weight circles off of your food bags. They really do add up after a while. : )
I made it my weekend-long project to get my class-reunion photos put into a scrapbook. Done in orange & blue (school colors, what else??), it doesn't look half bad if I do say so myself. I don't like to over-embellish, and sometimes I feel I lack the imagination (as I wasn't born with a decorating gene) to make it really eye-catching, but it'll suffice. Better than just having them stuffed into envelopes, never to be seen again.
Have a fabulous week everyone!!
Friday, October 06, 2006
Pack-rat syndrome
I find myself more and more, becoming a pack-rat for everybody else.
It isn't bad enough that we've more crap lying around our house that we can't seem to let go of, but now I found my preciously small counter-space being taken up by my collection of things for other people.
I collect box-tops-for-education for my nephew.
Campbell's soup labels for my neighbor who is a teacher.
And pull-tabs off of soda cans for the daughter of one of my bunco gals.
This pack-rat syndrome has got to stop!!!
Okay, I'm not really complaining about collecting saving these things... truly, I don't mind, especially if it helps out the kids/school without raising my taxes. I just get aggrevated with myself when I can't find things in my purse or pockets, because of all these little items I've collected at work, and then carry home, but don't quite sort out into their proper containers.
It isn't bad enough that we've more crap lying around our house that we can't seem to let go of, but now I found my preciously small counter-space being taken up by my collection of things for other people.
I collect box-tops-for-education for my nephew.
Campbell's soup labels for my neighbor who is a teacher.
And pull-tabs off of soda cans for the daughter of one of my bunco gals.
This pack-rat syndrome has got to stop!!!
Okay, I'm not really complaining about collecting saving these things... truly, I don't mind, especially if it helps out the kids/school without raising my taxes. I just get aggrevated with myself when I can't find things in my purse or pockets, because of all these little items I've collected at work, and then carry home, but don't quite sort out into their proper containers.
Nylons
Nylons...
N = Non-
Y = Yielding
L = Leg
O = Obstructing
N = Noose
We women have a love-hate relationship with our panty-hose. On the one hand, a good pair makes our legs look great!, and a good pair of support hose even makes our legs feel great. They can compliment or spruce up an outfit.
But I think that's where it ends.
It's nearly impossible to find a pair that fits "just right". Get a pair that's too long, and you've got elephant wrinkles around your ankles. Get a pair that's too big in the waist and they want to fall down. Get a pair that's too small, well, assuming you don't put a hole in them while trying to put them on, then they will start to roll-up and then drop from the waist, causing us to tug & pull at them all day long.
Cheaply made hose snag too easy and look like crap. Hose with support can be dangerous in that if you have big thighs that rub together, well, you're in danger of spontaneous combustion between your legs, not to mention that annoying swish-swish noise your nylon-clad thighs make while rubbing together.
Then there are the ones, that if you don't get them on just-right, then the legs twist and turn, pinch your legs (or worse), and you again spend half the day tugging at them.
Who came up with these torture devices??? Why don't men (most men that is) have to wear them?
One last note on women's undergarments...
Bra = Booby-trap
N = Non-
Y = Yielding
L = Leg
O = Obstructing
N = Noose
We women have a love-hate relationship with our panty-hose. On the one hand, a good pair makes our legs look great!, and a good pair of support hose even makes our legs feel great. They can compliment or spruce up an outfit.
But I think that's where it ends.
It's nearly impossible to find a pair that fits "just right". Get a pair that's too long, and you've got elephant wrinkles around your ankles. Get a pair that's too big in the waist and they want to fall down. Get a pair that's too small, well, assuming you don't put a hole in them while trying to put them on, then they will start to roll-up and then drop from the waist, causing us to tug & pull at them all day long.
Cheaply made hose snag too easy and look like crap. Hose with support can be dangerous in that if you have big thighs that rub together, well, you're in danger of spontaneous combustion between your legs, not to mention that annoying swish-swish noise your nylon-clad thighs make while rubbing together.
Then there are the ones, that if you don't get them on just-right, then the legs twist and turn, pinch your legs (or worse), and you again spend half the day tugging at them.
Who came up with these torture devices??? Why don't men (most men that is) have to wear them?
One last note on women's undergarments...
Bra = Booby-trap
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Proud bitch-parent
I'm once again, a proud bitch-parent. Some of you may recall back in February, my k-9 son, Eliott, was the featured pet of the week in the My Pet Rocks column of the Courier-Journal. The voting was fierce! He started off to an impressive lead, but then some other mutt jumped ahead. It was an all-out battle right down to the close of the voting polls. But Eliott's fan-base, family & friends persevered, and he won!!
Now my darling "dogter" Olivia (Eliott's half-sister) is following in his footsteps... er, make that pawprints. She's the featured pet this week. She too is off to an impressive lead. But we can't rest easy until the polls close on monday. Got to keep voting, and drumming up support!!!
Click on the following link, it will take you to the voting page. Help Olivia win bragging rights. Woo-Hoo!
http://www.courier-journal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061004/NEWS0102/310040003
Now my darling "dogter" Olivia (Eliott's half-sister) is following in his footsteps... er, make that pawprints. She's the featured pet this week. She too is off to an impressive lead. But we can't rest easy until the polls close on monday. Got to keep voting, and drumming up support!!!
Click on the following link, it will take you to the voting page. Help Olivia win bragging rights. Woo-Hoo!
http://www.courier-journal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061004/NEWS0102/310040003
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
The Perfect Couple?
I went to that dreaded place, the mall (Oxmoor no less) last night, accompanied by my friend/neighbor "B". We chit-chatted & did the girly-thing, checking out the new scrap-booking place. I could spend all day in a place like that. Fortunately though, their prices brought me back to reality, and I kept my purchases to a minimum.
As "B" and I were leaving the mall, she confessed to me that one of my recent blogs had made her feel better about her marriage (not her exact words, but close enough). I asked why.
She mentioned how I had stated in the blog that the husband and I had been arguing all week. This was some kind of revelation for her. She thought that John & I were the perfect couple that never fought.
I nearly fell on the floor laughing. Well okay, not really, but I wanted to.
That was too funny!!
John & I the perfect couple? I appreciate the sentiment, but puh-leeze!, that's not the case.
I then asked, "you mean you've never heard any of our arguements when we've had our windows open?"
She hadn't. I was amazed, as I can sometimes be quite vocal when arguing. I know, I know, this shocks some of you, but it's true.
She felt that because she and her spouse argued, there was something wrong with them. Oh honey, if you didn't argue, then I truly would think something was wrong. That's what couples DO! It relieves stress & frustrations, gets things out in the open (sometimes). There is no such thing as the "perfect" couple. There are those that are perfectly suited to one another, some that are very romantic and appear "perfect", but trust me, they have their spats too. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they do.
An old friend from childhood that I had re-connected with after several years apart, told me a while back (she had recently married for the first time) that she & her husband did everything together. They didn't marry each other, just to spend time apart. This was after I suggested perhaps we get together with some other old friends and catch up.
After she told me this, I couldn't help but roll my eyes mentally. I thought, "okay.... but one of these days you'll need to get a life".
I love my husband too and like spending time with him. But GIMME A BREAK!!!, who wants to spend every waking hour of the day with their spouse?? Girls need girl-time, away from the men. And guys need guy-time, away from the wives. I only hope that one of these days she wakes up and realizes what she's missed out on. Oh well, maybe they will turn out to be the "perfect couple."
As "B" and I were leaving the mall, she confessed to me that one of my recent blogs had made her feel better about her marriage (not her exact words, but close enough). I asked why.
She mentioned how I had stated in the blog that the husband and I had been arguing all week. This was some kind of revelation for her. She thought that John & I were the perfect couple that never fought.
I nearly fell on the floor laughing. Well okay, not really, but I wanted to.
That was too funny!!
John & I the perfect couple? I appreciate the sentiment, but puh-leeze!, that's not the case.
I then asked, "you mean you've never heard any of our arguements when we've had our windows open?"
She hadn't. I was amazed, as I can sometimes be quite vocal when arguing. I know, I know, this shocks some of you, but it's true.
She felt that because she and her spouse argued, there was something wrong with them. Oh honey, if you didn't argue, then I truly would think something was wrong. That's what couples DO! It relieves stress & frustrations, gets things out in the open (sometimes). There is no such thing as the "perfect" couple. There are those that are perfectly suited to one another, some that are very romantic and appear "perfect", but trust me, they have their spats too. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they do.
An old friend from childhood that I had re-connected with after several years apart, told me a while back (she had recently married for the first time) that she & her husband did everything together. They didn't marry each other, just to spend time apart. This was after I suggested perhaps we get together with some other old friends and catch up.
After she told me this, I couldn't help but roll my eyes mentally. I thought, "okay.... but one of these days you'll need to get a life".
I love my husband too and like spending time with him. But GIMME A BREAK!!!, who wants to spend every waking hour of the day with their spouse?? Girls need girl-time, away from the men. And guys need guy-time, away from the wives. I only hope that one of these days she wakes up and realizes what she's missed out on. Oh well, maybe they will turn out to be the "perfect couple."
Pain in the side
I've developed a pain in my side. My left side to be exact. Were it on the right, I'd think I was having an attack of appendicitis.
I can't help but wonder if my pain hasn't been brought on by a combination of U.S. Bank and Swope Saturn South auto dealership.
Allow me to elaborate...
As most of you know by now, on Aug. 28th, we parked our Mazda Tribute at the Saturn dealership on Dixie Hwy (ie: turned it in, not to be confused with traded it in), and we drove away that evening in a brand new Saturn Vue.
On Saturday, Sept. 9th, I drove to the USBank near our house, and wrote them a check for a whole lot of money, to pay off the lease on the Mazda, and to allow for the excess mileage. The teller at the bank had me make it out to Dealer Services instead of just USBank, and said she'd inter-company the check. She wrote me a receipt and I went on my merry way, feeling that everything was behind me now.
How wrong I was.
This past friday, 9/29, I got a call from USBank's leasing dept. "Rachel" informed me that my account was past due. I said, nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-NO!, it wasn't. I told her the dates and amounts, names and places of everything that had happened. Well, apparently someone within the USBank system has lost my check. I now needed to put a stop-payment on my check and re-issue it.
Okay, fine, but I really don't think I should be paying the stop-payment fee or the late-fee. Your bank is the one that screwed up.
Yes, yes, that's fine, we'll make good on those charges.
Can I get that in writing please? In blood no less?
Now for the really good news... NOT! Rachel said not only was my account delinquent, but the dealership never notified them that the car was ready to be picked up.
Great (dripping w/sarcasm), I guess that means somebody at Swope auto could be driving my Mazda around, racking up the miles, and I'd have to pay for it. I think this is the point when my pains started, only it was more of a sickening feeling at this point.
Well, it was late in the day on friday, I couldn't do anything about the bank 'til saturday.
Fast forward to today. USBank still can't find my check. Not only that, they've called the dealership which informed them that my Mazda has been gone for quite some time. Sickening feeling is getting worse... has my car been stolen????? And since I cancelled my auto insurance on it, now what would happen?????? The bile is slowly starting to rise.
I called the dealership myself, asked for our saleswoman, explained the situation to her. She went in search of the car, blessedly found it parked in the back lot, and gave me the name of the man the bank needed to see in order to retrieve the car.
Whew! Okay, that's one less thing to be stressed about. At least the car isn't stolen. I called USBank back & told them where to find the car.
Now on to my bank. I put a stop-payment on the check. $32 later I'm ready to write a new check and mail it in to USBank, via snail-mail, which has proven to be more reliable than inter-company. I've a few less worries on my mind now, aside from getting the late fees & stop-payment fees refunded to me, but the major pain in my side remains.
I can't help but wonder if my pain hasn't been brought on by a combination of U.S. Bank and Swope Saturn South auto dealership.
Allow me to elaborate...
As most of you know by now, on Aug. 28th, we parked our Mazda Tribute at the Saturn dealership on Dixie Hwy (ie: turned it in, not to be confused with traded it in), and we drove away that evening in a brand new Saturn Vue.
On Saturday, Sept. 9th, I drove to the USBank near our house, and wrote them a check for a whole lot of money, to pay off the lease on the Mazda, and to allow for the excess mileage. The teller at the bank had me make it out to Dealer Services instead of just USBank, and said she'd inter-company the check. She wrote me a receipt and I went on my merry way, feeling that everything was behind me now.
How wrong I was.
This past friday, 9/29, I got a call from USBank's leasing dept. "Rachel" informed me that my account was past due. I said, nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-NO!, it wasn't. I told her the dates and amounts, names and places of everything that had happened. Well, apparently someone within the USBank system has lost my check. I now needed to put a stop-payment on my check and re-issue it.
Okay, fine, but I really don't think I should be paying the stop-payment fee or the late-fee. Your bank is the one that screwed up.
Yes, yes, that's fine, we'll make good on those charges.
Can I get that in writing please? In blood no less?
Now for the really good news... NOT! Rachel said not only was my account delinquent, but the dealership never notified them that the car was ready to be picked up.
Great (dripping w/sarcasm), I guess that means somebody at Swope auto could be driving my Mazda around, racking up the miles, and I'd have to pay for it. I think this is the point when my pains started, only it was more of a sickening feeling at this point.
Well, it was late in the day on friday, I couldn't do anything about the bank 'til saturday.
Fast forward to today. USBank still can't find my check. Not only that, they've called the dealership which informed them that my Mazda has been gone for quite some time. Sickening feeling is getting worse... has my car been stolen????? And since I cancelled my auto insurance on it, now what would happen?????? The bile is slowly starting to rise.
I called the dealership myself, asked for our saleswoman, explained the situation to her. She went in search of the car, blessedly found it parked in the back lot, and gave me the name of the man the bank needed to see in order to retrieve the car.
Whew! Okay, that's one less thing to be stressed about. At least the car isn't stolen. I called USBank back & told them where to find the car.
Now on to my bank. I put a stop-payment on the check. $32 later I'm ready to write a new check and mail it in to USBank, via snail-mail, which has proven to be more reliable than inter-company. I've a few less worries on my mind now, aside from getting the late fees & stop-payment fees refunded to me, but the major pain in my side remains.
Love this story!
My friend wrote this story, I just love it! I guess it's the innocence & sincerity of children that appealed to me. She originally had it on her blog, then submitted it to Christianity Today magazine where it was published. Hope you don't mind "Scooter", I'm posting the link to your story.
http://www.christianitytoday.com/tc/2006/004/3.26.html
http://www.christianitytoday.com/tc/2006/004/3.26.html
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)