...so here goes:
Forgive me, people. It's been six days since my last confessional blog post. Lots has happened since Tuesday. I've committed some venial sins. I've had violent, murderous thoughts toward several parties. I'm hoping that the fact that they deserve to die a slow, torturous death will ameliorate the seriousness of my transgressions - I'd hate to have comitted mortal sins. In case you don't already know, the difference between venial and mortal sins is as follows (per Wikipedia):
A venial sin does not concern a "grave matter," is not comitted with full knowledge, or is not comitted with both deliberate and complete consent.
Therefore, if it doesn't fit into all three categories, it's not venial. It's mortal. Which ain't good. I think it involves a lake of fire, weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, and other unpleasantness. Apparently, my good karma doesn't amount to a hill of beans since I've continued to be afflicted by so many unbearable tribulations. The karma credits are a result of the fact that I pick up rusty nails in the street on my runs - as many as 12 after it rains - and take them home to dispose of safely? I hope the fact that I haven't gotten a flat tire lately is not the only reward I'll get for that selfless act.
About my sins, I won't provide the details here, because that could be used by extremist, religious fanatics to support the argument that I had full knowledge of my actions. On the other hand, I've used the defense of "not guilty by reason of insanity" successfully in the past, so maybe it'll work again. I have plenty of friends who will attest to my inability to make rational decisions when I shift into a quixotic state. By the way, in case you didn't know, quixotic rhymes with Twixotic. You say the X in the usual English way, not an H like when you say Don Quixote. But I digress.
Back to my legal defense. I also have some licensed professionals who would take the stand to defend me, I'm sure. (See comments above re rusty nails, and you'll understand the severity of my "challenges.") OCD is a bitch. Crazy-making. It's what causes me to have such extreme, compulsive tendancies toward the evil princes of darkness who constantly attack me. Specifically, Comcast, health insurance companies, and too many others to name.
Well, I'm thinking that unless I act on my evil impulses, I don't need to worry. On the other hand, I seem to remember hearing something to the effect that if we think it in our heart, it's the same as doing it. I think it's attributed to JC. That is, Jimmy Carter.
Wow. Crazy, huh? Not like me at all. Gotta run. Literally. It's time to retrieve some rusty nails from the mean streets of Memphis..
Monday, June 24, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Rites of Passage
I took Sally to get spayed this morning. She could be in surgery at this very moment. I am surprised at how nervous I am. I've had that surgery, and I know first hand how awful it is. They asked me if I wanted pain medicine for her. What kind of monster wouldn't give their puppy relief after being sliced open. I guess someone who didn't want to spend the extra $12. The same kinda person who rushes their offsprings' potty training (and thus inflicting severe emotional damage) because they don't want to buy diapers. Once on the local news, I saw a story about the boyfriend of some pathetic excuse for a mother who beat the baby to death because she pooped in her pants.
This stuff stirs up violent, Death Wishesque, vengeful thoughts in me. I think every idiot who leaves their child/dog in the car in the summer oughta have to sit locked in a car in full sun in July until they die. The monsters who use pit bulls to fight to the death for their entertainment should be thrown to some of those hungry dogs they tie to stakes and neglect in their yard.
I could go on and on, but I'm shaking. So I should stop. Because I still haven't resolved my problems with Comcrap. Or wrangling with my new insurance which doesn't have prescription coverage, which means it'll cost me three times the insurance premium to buy my drugs. Then there's the mammo thing. Between dealing with insurance company, the preferred provider company, and the clueless providers themselves, I'm on the verge of using an apple corer to remove the suspicious lump myself. I spent three crazy-making hours on the phone yesterday - two of which were spent listening to crappy pseudo-jazz hold music. I'm not crazy about jazz to start with. Maybe that's good though. It would probably be unbearable if I did. I guess the only thing worse would be porn movie music. Not that I know about that first-hand. I've just heard it's really bad. No wonder you never see skin flick soundtracks for sale. Wow, I just had a scary thought. What if they played porn music while you were on hold? I shudder to think.
As usual, I have so many unpleasant things to do, that I'm overwhelmed. Which is why I sit here blogging instead of doing them. This, after I made myself stop doing crossword puzzles for way too long. It's all I can do not to tuck into my new David Sedaris book. I love him. He makes my life seem somewhat normal.
Ok. It's time to face the music. More hold music. At least it's not the porn kind.
Over and out...
This stuff stirs up violent, Death Wishesque, vengeful thoughts in me. I think every idiot who leaves their child/dog in the car in the summer oughta have to sit locked in a car in full sun in July until they die. The monsters who use pit bulls to fight to the death for their entertainment should be thrown to some of those hungry dogs they tie to stakes and neglect in their yard.
I could go on and on, but I'm shaking. So I should stop. Because I still haven't resolved my problems with Comcrap. Or wrangling with my new insurance which doesn't have prescription coverage, which means it'll cost me three times the insurance premium to buy my drugs. Then there's the mammo thing. Between dealing with insurance company, the preferred provider company, and the clueless providers themselves, I'm on the verge of using an apple corer to remove the suspicious lump myself. I spent three crazy-making hours on the phone yesterday - two of which were spent listening to crappy pseudo-jazz hold music. I'm not crazy about jazz to start with. Maybe that's good though. It would probably be unbearable if I did. I guess the only thing worse would be porn movie music. Not that I know about that first-hand. I've just heard it's really bad. No wonder you never see skin flick soundtracks for sale. Wow, I just had a scary thought. What if they played porn music while you were on hold? I shudder to think.
As usual, I have so many unpleasant things to do, that I'm overwhelmed. Which is why I sit here blogging instead of doing them. This, after I made myself stop doing crossword puzzles for way too long. It's all I can do not to tuck into my new David Sedaris book. I love him. He makes my life seem somewhat normal.
Ok. It's time to face the music. More hold music. At least it's not the porn kind.
Over and out...
Friday, June 14, 2013
The Eagle has Landed
The Eagle being The Daddler. He just got home from a week with two of his brothers and their wives. They go to Gatlinburg every fall, and he and Mother used to go, too. The D hasn't been since Mother died almost three years ago. I don't think they went the year or two before that since Mother's health was so bad. So it had been a long time. He was really happy and excited when they invited him.
I started thinking that this is the first time I've been home alone since The D and I became roomies. Wow. What freedom! Especially since Kiddo is in NYC doing his big internship. I could transform this multi-generational abode into a swingin' bachelorette pad for four days and nights.
I wish I could say that it was like Grand Central Station here. That I had a stream of friends coming over and hanging out at all hours. Sleepovers with all my besties, complete with constant chick flicks, trash-talkin' and junk food. That I had every spare minute crammed full of "me time." I hate that phrase, by the way. It sounds so hokey. But I can't think of anything better to describe what I had in mind.
Instead, it turned out to be pretty lonely, and very quiet. I did random things around the house and yard, read and did crossword puzzles, sat on the patio in my swimsuit, took occasional dips in my new kiddie pool (Sally loved it.) The only company I had was one friend who stayed a couple hours. Other than that, it was me and the dogs. I was surprised to find myself missing The D on the second day. I didn't miss fixing his meals, though.
Back to the dogs. They were experiencing severe separation anxiety. They went nuts when he got home today. I swear, I could hook them behind a plow and they'd outdo any mules around. They're incredibly strong. I had them on their leashes, waiting in the front yard for The D's big arrival. It was a sweet reunion. For me, too. In fact, I was surprised when The Daddler made a bee-line for me and gave me a big hug. Pleasantly, of course. Maybe he missed me, too.
He brought me a few gifts. Namely, some fried apple pies from some place called The Apple Barn. A loaded baked potato soup mix. And a tiny bottle of maple syrup. Since I don't eat any of those things, and he loves them, it's the equivalent of a husband buying his wife a power saw for her birthday. Or sexy lingerie.
Speaking of gifts, I've decided to skip the Father's Day gifts. Instead, I'm gonna fix a nice lunch. Little sis will come, and nothing could make him happier.
Well, I'm gonna wrap up this post and go spend a little quality time napping on the sofa with Fox News blaring on the TV. Now, that'll feel like home...
I started thinking that this is the first time I've been home alone since The D and I became roomies. Wow. What freedom! Especially since Kiddo is in NYC doing his big internship. I could transform this multi-generational abode into a swingin' bachelorette pad for four days and nights.
I wish I could say that it was like Grand Central Station here. That I had a stream of friends coming over and hanging out at all hours. Sleepovers with all my besties, complete with constant chick flicks, trash-talkin' and junk food. That I had every spare minute crammed full of "me time." I hate that phrase, by the way. It sounds so hokey. But I can't think of anything better to describe what I had in mind.
Instead, it turned out to be pretty lonely, and very quiet. I did random things around the house and yard, read and did crossword puzzles, sat on the patio in my swimsuit, took occasional dips in my new kiddie pool (Sally loved it.) The only company I had was one friend who stayed a couple hours. Other than that, it was me and the dogs. I was surprised to find myself missing The D on the second day. I didn't miss fixing his meals, though.
Back to the dogs. They were experiencing severe separation anxiety. They went nuts when he got home today. I swear, I could hook them behind a plow and they'd outdo any mules around. They're incredibly strong. I had them on their leashes, waiting in the front yard for The D's big arrival. It was a sweet reunion. For me, too. In fact, I was surprised when The Daddler made a bee-line for me and gave me a big hug. Pleasantly, of course. Maybe he missed me, too.
He brought me a few gifts. Namely, some fried apple pies from some place called The Apple Barn. A loaded baked potato soup mix. And a tiny bottle of maple syrup. Since I don't eat any of those things, and he loves them, it's the equivalent of a husband buying his wife a power saw for her birthday. Or sexy lingerie.
Speaking of gifts, I've decided to skip the Father's Day gifts. Instead, I'm gonna fix a nice lunch. Little sis will come, and nothing could make him happier.
Well, I'm gonna wrap up this post and go spend a little quality time napping on the sofa with Fox News blaring on the TV. Now, that'll feel like home...
Monday, June 10, 2013
Hell hath no fury...
...like me. When it comes to Comcrap.
After four weeks of fucking with those idiots, I still haven't resolved the problem (namely, the two-plus years of double billing.) Sooo, this morning, I talked with a friend who's a partner at their audit firm (since clearly they are the Enron of the 2000-teens - what do you call this decade?) After that, I talked to an attorney in the SEC's fraud department. By the way, she hates Comcast, too. Funny, huh? She told me how to file a complaint there, and said I should also file one with the FCC. The forms are hot off the press.
Then, I called Comcast's legal compliance department. Of course, I had to leave a message - they can't be bothered with answering the phone. Maybe instead of calling the Routine Requests and Information Line, I should've tried the Imminent Loss of Life or Body Injury line. Which might have been appropriate considering the extremely violent thoughts I've been having.
So, between Deloitte and Touche (the auditors), the SEC and FCC, and extortion, I should get some results soon. Actually, extortion isn't the right term, unless you consider threats to hire the shadiest attorney I can find to sue the defendant for a bazillion dollars in both criminal and civil courts. And to make the talk show circuit, appear on national news and Court TV (Nancy Grace is a close, personal friend of mine,) unless I'm well compensated for financial, emotional, and physical (my cortisol levels are surging,) damages. Of course, I'll be subtle about how I express my willingness to cut a deal, given that they have what I'm sure is a huge in-house counsel department, and they'd slap a counter-suit on me as quickly as you can say "Bob's your uncle." On the other hand, it would be a pain in the ass for them to have to deal with the SEC and FCC. And their auditors.
Wow. Do I sound like a lunatic? If so, it's all Comcast's fault.
Now, for something positive. The Daddler left for Gatlinburg at 5:45 this morning. He's going with two brothers and their wives. This is the very first time I will have been home alone since we became roommates. Kiddo is in NYC for his internship, so I am footloose and fancy free. I'm closing the kitchen - it's peanut butter sammiches for me for the next five days. I can walk around nekkid, play the stereo as loud as I want, and have wild parties if I want. The possibilites are endless.
On that note, I shouldn't be wasting time on this silly blog. Adventure awaits me. And hopefully, justice...
After four weeks of fucking with those idiots, I still haven't resolved the problem (namely, the two-plus years of double billing.) Sooo, this morning, I talked with a friend who's a partner at their audit firm (since clearly they are the Enron of the 2000-teens - what do you call this decade?) After that, I talked to an attorney in the SEC's fraud department. By the way, she hates Comcast, too. Funny, huh? She told me how to file a complaint there, and said I should also file one with the FCC. The forms are hot off the press.
Then, I called Comcast's legal compliance department. Of course, I had to leave a message - they can't be bothered with answering the phone. Maybe instead of calling the Routine Requests and Information Line, I should've tried the Imminent Loss of Life or Body Injury line. Which might have been appropriate considering the extremely violent thoughts I've been having.
So, between Deloitte and Touche (the auditors), the SEC and FCC, and extortion, I should get some results soon. Actually, extortion isn't the right term, unless you consider threats to hire the shadiest attorney I can find to sue the defendant for a bazillion dollars in both criminal and civil courts. And to make the talk show circuit, appear on national news and Court TV (Nancy Grace is a close, personal friend of mine,) unless I'm well compensated for financial, emotional, and physical (my cortisol levels are surging,) damages. Of course, I'll be subtle about how I express my willingness to cut a deal, given that they have what I'm sure is a huge in-house counsel department, and they'd slap a counter-suit on me as quickly as you can say "Bob's your uncle." On the other hand, it would be a pain in the ass for them to have to deal with the SEC and FCC. And their auditors.
Wow. Do I sound like a lunatic? If so, it's all Comcast's fault.
Now, for something positive. The Daddler left for Gatlinburg at 5:45 this morning. He's going with two brothers and their wives. This is the very first time I will have been home alone since we became roommates. Kiddo is in NYC for his internship, so I am footloose and fancy free. I'm closing the kitchen - it's peanut butter sammiches for me for the next five days. I can walk around nekkid, play the stereo as loud as I want, and have wild parties if I want. The possibilites are endless.
On that note, I shouldn't be wasting time on this silly blog. Adventure awaits me. And hopefully, justice...
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Comcast Takes First Prize...
...for the company with the worst customer service in America. Google it.
I discovered this fascinating fact when I decided to investigate the commenter who always pops up to leave a consoling comment on my posts about the evil, execrable, accursed C-Crap. See, I wasn't born yesterday, so I knew better than to think that Comcast had an employee (or even an automated web crawler) on hand to "reach out" to a disgruntled customer/blogger. And I'm not stupid enough to click on an email address to a nice sounding Mark Something or Other at the caring URL called WeCareAboutYouAndWantToHelpAndWeAreSorryYouAreExperiencingProblemsWithYourServiceWeAppreciateYouAndItIsOurMissionInLife ToMeetAllYourWorldlyNeeds.comcast.com. Seriously. I can suspend my disbelief long enough to enjoy an occasional sci-fi movie, and even once in a while, a cute rom-com. Well, that last one's a stretch. Why is it all the chick-flicks are so stupidly, saccharinely, sickeningly sentimental?
But I digress. My main point was to let you know that everything isn't what it appears to be. There are two truths I hold dear. The relevant one here is "If it seems too good to be true, it is." Or should that be, "isn't?" Hmmm. Maybe I should put it this way: "If it seems too good be true, it's a big fat lie and you're an inane idiot/sucker if you believe it." So that's why I'm too smart/suspicious/skeptical to fall for the average internet scam. Especially after that stupid FaceBook IQ test that dinged my cell phone for 99 cents five times in four minutes. Wow. How embarrassing. And apt. Obviously, my IQ was sub-par that day.
The other, equally cynical, tenet I'd love to share, will have to wait until later. It deserves its own blog post.
Ok, my blood pressure is rising, so I'm leaving. Later...
I discovered this fascinating fact when I decided to investigate the commenter who always pops up to leave a consoling comment on my posts about the evil, execrable, accursed C-Crap. See, I wasn't born yesterday, so I knew better than to think that Comcast had an employee (or even an automated web crawler) on hand to "reach out" to a disgruntled customer/blogger. And I'm not stupid enough to click on an email address to a nice sounding Mark Something or Other at the caring URL called WeCareAboutYouAndWantToHelpAndWeAreSorryYouAreExperiencingProblemsWithYourServiceWeAppreciateYouAndItIsOurMissionInLife ToMeetAllYourWorldlyNeeds.comcast.com. Seriously. I can suspend my disbelief long enough to enjoy an occasional sci-fi movie, and even once in a while, a cute rom-com. Well, that last one's a stretch. Why is it all the chick-flicks are so stupidly, saccharinely, sickeningly sentimental?
But I digress. My main point was to let you know that everything isn't what it appears to be. There are two truths I hold dear. The relevant one here is "If it seems too good to be true, it is." Or should that be, "isn't?" Hmmm. Maybe I should put it this way: "If it seems too good be true, it's a big fat lie and you're an inane idiot/sucker if you believe it." So that's why I'm too smart/suspicious/skeptical to fall for the average internet scam. Especially after that stupid FaceBook IQ test that dinged my cell phone for 99 cents five times in four minutes. Wow. How embarrassing. And apt. Obviously, my IQ was sub-par that day.
The other, equally cynical, tenet I'd love to share, will have to wait until later. It deserves its own blog post.
Ok, my blood pressure is rising, so I'm leaving. Later...
Comcast is Killing Me!
Oh. My. God.
I have just spent an hour on the horn with the bane of my existence - Comcrap. I know I've ranted about them here repeatedly, but I have to do it again, before my head explodes. Not that my rants prevent that. It's so I can document Comcast's causal liability for my demise. So that my heirs will have plenty of hard evidence when they file the $10 million product liability lawsuit. But if I make it through this without spontaneously combusting (is that a word?), maybe I could file a class-action lawsuit, because I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm not the only poor schmo who's been double-billed by this blood-sucking, money-grubbing excuse for a technology company. I won't even get started on the countless calls I've made to the tech department in an attempt to resolve problems with my internet and cable tv connections, logging on to my account, retrieving my email, and so much more.
I wish I could take the time to record this latest cluster-fuck, but my hands are shaking so much I can barely type.
I missed my kick-boxing class. It's a damn shame because it might have prevented my death (I could tape the logo to the punching bag and vent my frustrations on that) which was caused by Comcast.
Hey, here's another idea. I could write a suicide note saying I was jumping off the Mississippi river bridge because I'd lost my will to live (they'd never find my body in The Big Muddy,) all because of Comcast. First though, I'll have to set up an unnumbered Swiss bank account and give wiring instructions to Kiddo. Knowing him, though, I'd never see a penny of it.
Gotta go. Need to get a paper bag and try to stop this damn hyperventilating...
I have just spent an hour on the horn with the bane of my existence - Comcrap. I know I've ranted about them here repeatedly, but I have to do it again, before my head explodes. Not that my rants prevent that. It's so I can document Comcast's causal liability for my demise. So that my heirs will have plenty of hard evidence when they file the $10 million product liability lawsuit. But if I make it through this without spontaneously combusting (is that a word?), maybe I could file a class-action lawsuit, because I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm not the only poor schmo who's been double-billed by this blood-sucking, money-grubbing excuse for a technology company. I won't even get started on the countless calls I've made to the tech department in an attempt to resolve problems with my internet and cable tv connections, logging on to my account, retrieving my email, and so much more.
I wish I could take the time to record this latest cluster-fuck, but my hands are shaking so much I can barely type.
I missed my kick-boxing class. It's a damn shame because it might have prevented my death (I could tape the logo to the punching bag and vent my frustrations on that) which was caused by Comcast.
Hey, here's another idea. I could write a suicide note saying I was jumping off the Mississippi river bridge because I'd lost my will to live (they'd never find my body in The Big Muddy,) all because of Comcast. First though, I'll have to set up an unnumbered Swiss bank account and give wiring instructions to Kiddo. Knowing him, though, I'd never see a penny of it.
Gotta go. Need to get a paper bag and try to stop this damn hyperventilating...
Monday, May 6, 2013
Crazy Busy
It's a nice feeling. I always have plenty to do, but somehow, I just procrastinate forever. That creates so much anxiety. Which causes me to throw up my hands and shift into avoidance mood. So I've spent way too many hours lounging on the sofa, listing to the same old shit over and over again on Fox News (The Daddler watches it day and night) and doing crossword puzzles, texting, playing Words With Friends, and other unproductive pursuits.
In the last coupla weeks, however, I've sprung into action. Lots of new stuff going on, including: Taekwondo and cardio kick classes; getting back to running; doing re-fi's on two of my houses; taking Lucy and Sally to the vet all the time; mowing and gardening; and working on my new rental house. All this on top of the regular stuff like taking The D to the doctor, laundry, grocery shopping, cooking and cleaning...
The rental house has turned into a full time job. So much to do. Painting everything inside. Buying supplies. Mowing the lawn and weeding the beds and pruning the shrubs. Knocking out tile in the bathroom. Cleaning the windows. Measuring for blinds (gotta buy the blinds.) Getting bids for the bigger stuff. Keeping the books and managing cash flow.
On top of all this, my social life is improving. Funny how it's feast or famine. I've been feasting lately. Last week, I decided to go on a diet (figuratively speaking.) So I'm thinning the herd. I hate doing that. But I just don't have time to hang out with people I don't enjoy. Besides, all those dinners out have taken their toll on my figure, so I've also started a literal diet.
I'm feeling good about these decisions. I'm making progress on my endless To Do list - it feels good to actually finish some of my projects.
Unfortunately, though, I haven't had much time to blog. It's so therapeutic for me, but so is exercise and sunshine and fresh air, so I'm gonna be kinda scarce on here for a while. But life is full of trade-offs, and a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
Until next time...
In the last coupla weeks, however, I've sprung into action. Lots of new stuff going on, including: Taekwondo and cardio kick classes; getting back to running; doing re-fi's on two of my houses; taking Lucy and Sally to the vet all the time; mowing and gardening; and working on my new rental house. All this on top of the regular stuff like taking The D to the doctor, laundry, grocery shopping, cooking and cleaning...
The rental house has turned into a full time job. So much to do. Painting everything inside. Buying supplies. Mowing the lawn and weeding the beds and pruning the shrubs. Knocking out tile in the bathroom. Cleaning the windows. Measuring for blinds (gotta buy the blinds.) Getting bids for the bigger stuff. Keeping the books and managing cash flow.
On top of all this, my social life is improving. Funny how it's feast or famine. I've been feasting lately. Last week, I decided to go on a diet (figuratively speaking.) So I'm thinning the herd. I hate doing that. But I just don't have time to hang out with people I don't enjoy. Besides, all those dinners out have taken their toll on my figure, so I've also started a literal diet.
I'm feeling good about these decisions. I'm making progress on my endless To Do list - it feels good to actually finish some of my projects.
Unfortunately, though, I haven't had much time to blog. It's so therapeutic for me, but so is exercise and sunshine and fresh air, so I'm gonna be kinda scarce on here for a while. But life is full of trade-offs, and a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
Until next time...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)