Please don't give up on me! I have so much to share! So much to tell! For instance, so desperately do I want to sit down and tell you all about this! And also this right here! And yet this week I have not a single spare moment to do so! Not even one! Tell you what, OK, I'll make you a deal. Don't give up on my blog and I promise to tell you a story about how my precious little baby Chickenbone peed on the red carpet of a black-tie event. Or perhaps how he picked a fight with a dog that only has three legs. Or maybe I'll tell you about how he has taken to chewing on the underwire of my bra. (Not while I'm wearing it. Yet.) You see what I mean? So much to tell. So stay tuned! Hang in there! Please don't give up on me!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
"You had a bad dayyyyyy...."
Here is how the day is going down, at barely 2:14 p.m.
1. I had an argument on the phone with a "service provider" who was so incompetent, so completely and blitheringly stupid, that I had to yell at them several times, including something that went a little like "Ma'am, I seriously want to assure you, to SWEAR to you, that I COMPLETELY, one THOUSAND PERCENT, underSTAND and compreHEND what you have been repeating to me OVER AND OVER again, OK? I'm not even KIDDING about this. I. GET. YOU." I later yelled other things that made me feel bad, so I apologized. Which kind of made me mad all over again.
2. In the ladies' restroom, I had to remove somebody else's ass-paper from the toilet seat.
3. Just now I glugged down about four swallows of a carton of milk that, though I purchased it from our company's cafeteria mere minutes ago, had expired almost a week ago. Expired, then curdled.
1. I had an argument on the phone with a "service provider" who was so incompetent, so completely and blitheringly stupid, that I had to yell at them several times, including something that went a little like "Ma'am, I seriously want to assure you, to SWEAR to you, that I COMPLETELY, one THOUSAND PERCENT, underSTAND and compreHEND what you have been repeating to me OVER AND OVER again, OK? I'm not even KIDDING about this. I. GET. YOU." I later yelled other things that made me feel bad, so I apologized. Which kind of made me mad all over again.
2. In the ladies' restroom, I had to remove somebody else's ass-paper from the toilet seat.
3. Just now I glugged down about four swallows of a carton of milk that, though I purchased it from our company's cafeteria mere minutes ago, had expired almost a week ago. Expired, then curdled.
Next, if I'm very lucky, a giant safe will fall from the sky, squarely onto my head.
Monday, March 19, 2007
SOLD! To the girl with the white knuckles and the cold sweat!
At first I swore I would not blog about this, because the regret, guilt, and sheer forehead-slapping idiocy of my very own self felt too painful to display. But after a couple stiff drinks, a good night's sleep and a long yoga class, I have unclenched just a little, just enough to maybe tell you what I did this weekend that burned a fresh ulcer into my stomach lining:
I accidentally bought a $5,000 trip to Cancun.
Yes, an accident. No lie. See, I go to a lot of fundraisers with my husband, who writes about them for his column in the newspaper. These events often have live auctions for things like fancy jewelry and exotic vacations. Sometimes I think it's fun to be the very first bidder on an item, especially because the first bid never wins. Well, at Saturday's auction there was this cool Hawaii vacation valued at $14,000. And obviously there's no way that would sell for a really low price, so for fun, Sal and I agreed I could bid up to 5K. We were right, and it ended up going for around 10K. Oh, well! But a little while later, another interesting item came up: seven nights at a four-star resort in Cancun, plus first-class round-trip airfare, valued at nearly 10K. I leaned over to Sal and whispered, "Pssst! Wanna try 5K on this one, too?!" "Sure!" he says. So I do.
AND I WIN.
You really cannot imagine how I froze, how the shock and fear coursed coldly through my veins when the grinning auctioneer pointed in my direction and yelled "SOLD!" And then came the clapping and cheering, and people coming up to thank us so much for the donation, and then I nearly toss my cookies because I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING. Five thousand bucks? Five thousand bucks -- and here is the part that really makes me puke -- on a credit card!?!
OK, admittedly, we are in relatively good shape as far as credit cards go. And for the record, Sal isn't freaking out about this at ALL. He points out that we already had plans to do a big vacation this year, so this is money we would have spent anyway. Plus, it's for charity. Plus, though it might seem like bad timing to buy this trip now with house-hunting and all, it actually could be the last best time for us to do something like this. I bet after we land ourselves a nice fat mortgage, and later a kid or two, it won't be cool for mommy to suck down a couple martinis and run around waving paddle No. 241 in the air.
But I just couldn't stop kicking myself. The queasy guilt was turning my stomach inside-out. And it made me realize that a reaction this violent doesn't have anything to do with houses or vacations or anything like that. It comes from a deep understanding of what it's like to live with unmanageable debt. I'm not talking about the kind of debt that tells you it's time to cut down on four-dollar lattes. I'm talking about the kind of debt where, one afternoon in college, I stared down at the credit-card bills and realized that even with BOTH of my part-time jobs, I didn't have the money to make my payments. So I got up from the desk, put on a skirt and heels, drove to the mall, and got a third job at a costume jewelry counter at Foley's department store. See what I mean? That kind of frightening, nauseating debt that keeps you awake at night. And over the past five or six years, I have been able to shake that off and become a responsible adult, with a savings account and great credit and financial freedom that I try to never take for granted. So to go five grand in the hole in rougly 45 seconds, well, it felt like a fist smashed into my gut.
But like I said, I'm starting to get over it. Me and money have come a long way, and I know one teeny auction blunder isn't going to send us into financial ruin. And seriously, OK, I don't think there are too many horrifying mistakes in life that come equipped with a week of relaxing on sunshiny white beaches of the Caribbean Sea.
I accidentally bought a $5,000 trip to Cancun.
Yes, an accident. No lie. See, I go to a lot of fundraisers with my husband, who writes about them for his column in the newspaper. These events often have live auctions for things like fancy jewelry and exotic vacations. Sometimes I think it's fun to be the very first bidder on an item, especially because the first bid never wins. Well, at Saturday's auction there was this cool Hawaii vacation valued at $14,000. And obviously there's no way that would sell for a really low price, so for fun, Sal and I agreed I could bid up to 5K. We were right, and it ended up going for around 10K. Oh, well! But a little while later, another interesting item came up: seven nights at a four-star resort in Cancun, plus first-class round-trip airfare, valued at nearly 10K. I leaned over to Sal and whispered, "Pssst! Wanna try 5K on this one, too?!" "Sure!" he says. So I do.
AND I WIN.
You really cannot imagine how I froze, how the shock and fear coursed coldly through my veins when the grinning auctioneer pointed in my direction and yelled "SOLD!" And then came the clapping and cheering, and people coming up to thank us so much for the donation, and then I nearly toss my cookies because I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING. Five thousand bucks? Five thousand bucks -- and here is the part that really makes me puke -- on a credit card!?!
OK, admittedly, we are in relatively good shape as far as credit cards go. And for the record, Sal isn't freaking out about this at ALL. He points out that we already had plans to do a big vacation this year, so this is money we would have spent anyway. Plus, it's for charity. Plus, though it might seem like bad timing to buy this trip now with house-hunting and all, it actually could be the last best time for us to do something like this. I bet after we land ourselves a nice fat mortgage, and later a kid or two, it won't be cool for mommy to suck down a couple martinis and run around waving paddle No. 241 in the air.
But I just couldn't stop kicking myself. The queasy guilt was turning my stomach inside-out. And it made me realize that a reaction this violent doesn't have anything to do with houses or vacations or anything like that. It comes from a deep understanding of what it's like to live with unmanageable debt. I'm not talking about the kind of debt that tells you it's time to cut down on four-dollar lattes. I'm talking about the kind of debt where, one afternoon in college, I stared down at the credit-card bills and realized that even with BOTH of my part-time jobs, I didn't have the money to make my payments. So I got up from the desk, put on a skirt and heels, drove to the mall, and got a third job at a costume jewelry counter at Foley's department store. See what I mean? That kind of frightening, nauseating debt that keeps you awake at night. And over the past five or six years, I have been able to shake that off and become a responsible adult, with a savings account and great credit and financial freedom that I try to never take for granted. So to go five grand in the hole in rougly 45 seconds, well, it felt like a fist smashed into my gut.
But like I said, I'm starting to get over it. Me and money have come a long way, and I know one teeny auction blunder isn't going to send us into financial ruin. And seriously, OK, I don't think there are too many horrifying mistakes in life that come equipped with a week of relaxing on sunshiny white beaches of the Caribbean Sea.
Friday, March 16, 2007
When it's OK to love hate
This made me laugh so hard that I cried, and had to go to the ladies' room to fix my mascara.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Your not going to believe this
Yesterday I began packing. No, we haven't the faintest idea where we'll move or when we'll move there, but our agent wants us to haul away our personal, messy junk and enjoy a "spartan" lifestyle while our condo is on the market.
Everything was going fine until I accidentally wrote "CD's" on one of the boxes, in big, black Sharpie letters. I sat back and stared. CD's? c-d-APOSTROPHE-s? I don't think so, Jake! I was so mad at myself. You see, it all started when I accidentally made the "s" uppercase, and so in a flash, I went ahead and added an apostrophe, to make it look like a plural word instead of C-D-S. But then I realized that makes me about as numbskulled as the bad spellers and grammarians I mock all the time! I considered tearing the box lid off and starting over, but then I realized a better course of action would be to write "CD's" on two more boxes. Because if you are going to be wrong, be wrong so boldly that it makes others wonder if they are wrong.
Everything was going fine until I accidentally wrote "CD's" on one of the boxes, in big, black Sharpie letters. I sat back and stared. CD's? c-d-APOSTROPHE-s? I don't think so, Jake! I was so mad at myself. You see, it all started when I accidentally made the "s" uppercase, and so in a flash, I went ahead and added an apostrophe, to make it look like a plural word instead of C-D-S. But then I realized that makes me about as numbskulled as the bad spellers and grammarians I mock all the time! I considered tearing the box lid off and starting over, but then I realized a better course of action would be to write "CD's" on two more boxes. Because if you are going to be wrong, be wrong so boldly that it makes others wonder if they are wrong.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Won't you be my neighbor?
Yesterday Sal and I found a house we adored. It was the first place that seemed to have almost everything we were looking for, and at a great price. We loved it so much, in fact, that we returned last night to check out the neighborhood after dark. The moment we get out of the car we hear this ear-blasting holler from across the street. "CAN I HELP YOU???"
Um ... no? We turned around and saw this woman with long stringy hair standing in her yard glaring at us. I responded that we were just looking and had been at the house earlier with our agent. But she seemed agitated, and we wanted to show her we were harmless, so we crossed the street to introduce ourselves.
First thing we notice is, she's wearing this tattered old George Strait/Coors Light T-shirt. (Now, to me, that's a plus, but Sal not so impressed.) I think she felt bad for yelling, because she tried to make us feel better by pointing out that she was just protecting the house. Because a few nights ago, she caught some people trying to break in. "They were MEX-icans," she said with a sneer that told me she hadn't paid much attention to my husband's ethnic background.
Then she went on to tell us all sorts of delightful things. Like how the house down the way had been broken into twice last year. And how she "gets sunstroke really easily," so that's why she works in her yard at night, and, you know, keeps an eye on things. Oh, and she loves animals. All animals. She "makes sure everyone has a home," and has helped raise lots of wildlife, including cats, dogs, owls, monkeys and ocelots! Oh, except four of her pets died last year. You know, because of the cancer in the water.
So, the block busybody is also a racist, ocelot-loving vampire. And she still finds time to be in charge of the Neighborhood Watch! Seriously, how soon can we move in?
Um ... no? We turned around and saw this woman with long stringy hair standing in her yard glaring at us. I responded that we were just looking and had been at the house earlier with our agent. But she seemed agitated, and we wanted to show her we were harmless, so we crossed the street to introduce ourselves.
First thing we notice is, she's wearing this tattered old George Strait/Coors Light T-shirt. (Now, to me, that's a plus, but Sal not so impressed.) I think she felt bad for yelling, because she tried to make us feel better by pointing out that she was just protecting the house. Because a few nights ago, she caught some people trying to break in. "They were MEX-icans," she said with a sneer that told me she hadn't paid much attention to my husband's ethnic background.
Then she went on to tell us all sorts of delightful things. Like how the house down the way had been broken into twice last year. And how she "gets sunstroke really easily," so that's why she works in her yard at night, and, you know, keeps an eye on things. Oh, and she loves animals. All animals. She "makes sure everyone has a home," and has helped raise lots of wildlife, including cats, dogs, owls, monkeys and ocelots! Oh, except four of her pets died last year. You know, because of the cancer in the water.
So, the block busybody is also a racist, ocelot-loving vampire. And she still finds time to be in charge of the Neighborhood Watch! Seriously, how soon can we move in?
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