One of my favorite websites "The Oatmeal," a collection of comics, frequently comments on how little differences in speach or phrase can make a huge difference. I just witnessed one with a coworker.
What she actually said to a student: "If I thought I'd look like you I would start Zoomba."
What I thought she said: "If I thought I looked like you I would start Zoomba."
Very small variance, VERY different meanings!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Christmas Gifts
I love how the holidays have changed for me since I was a child. Many people resist change but to me things typically change for the better and while holiday celebrations and the feelings they invoke might have morphed they are no less magical.
No one forgets that restless excitement deep in your heart on Christmas Eve as a child. The anticipation of Santa coming while you sleep was almost too much to bear; I am still not sure how I was able to get myself to sleep. Perhaps sheer exhaustion from all the visions of presents dancing in my head eventually caused me to collapse. But I am confident I was dreaming of that bearded fat man and his sack of fun while I slept. Toys were the name of the game, I didn’t want clothes, shoes or anything but something that was plastic and had a million parts for Dad to put together.
At some point, possibly in the course of a single year the list became all clothes. Nothing but a stack of clothes, crisp and folded and waiting for me to inventory, deciding when and where to wear which.
As a young adult the holiday wish list reads like a bed bath and beyond receipt. Items for the home became the goodies that I couldn’t wait to get my hands on and carefully place around my new condo.
As the years go by and the presents change, their importance seems to diminish exponentially. I remember being young at Munner’s for Thanksgiving and feeling so let down that there were no presents to go along with the big meal and family gathering. “What a tease” I would grumpily decide. Now the excited feeling in my heart is the anticipation of the time spent with my wonderful family. The new additions of Mike, Katie and now our darling Jack have only served to enhance the joy we experience when we gather together. I have visions of smiles, hugs, pajamas, wine, appetizers, peanut butter balls, and a sweet baby’s smile dancing in my head. I can’t wait to be with my family and I dread the weekend ending.
New Years Eve has transformed itself as well. As a child, banging pots and twirling noise makers in the street at midnight seemed so rebellious and exciting! As a teenager and young adult partying and drinking were musts. We would plan and plan the New Years Party only to feel slightly let down that alas, New Years is really just another night out. The bars entice me less now than ever, with their $20 cover charge which gets you a Dixie cup of champagne and four sad balloons falling from the ceiling. Now I am much more content to stay in, stay safe and warm to watch the Holiday Specials and the Ball Drop in New York City.
I know that things will continue to change, they always do. Maybe they will come full circle. Maybe when I am 90 I will think it is wonderfully exciting that I am able to stay up until midnight and have someone wheel me out in the streets to bang pots and pans together celebrating the events of a year in my life. Only time will tell, but I know that time is precious and spending it with my family is the best gift I can give myself during the holidays and throughout the year.
Happy Holidays, Everyone!!!
No one forgets that restless excitement deep in your heart on Christmas Eve as a child. The anticipation of Santa coming while you sleep was almost too much to bear; I am still not sure how I was able to get myself to sleep. Perhaps sheer exhaustion from all the visions of presents dancing in my head eventually caused me to collapse. But I am confident I was dreaming of that bearded fat man and his sack of fun while I slept. Toys were the name of the game, I didn’t want clothes, shoes or anything but something that was plastic and had a million parts for Dad to put together.
At some point, possibly in the course of a single year the list became all clothes. Nothing but a stack of clothes, crisp and folded and waiting for me to inventory, deciding when and where to wear which.
As a young adult the holiday wish list reads like a bed bath and beyond receipt. Items for the home became the goodies that I couldn’t wait to get my hands on and carefully place around my new condo.
As the years go by and the presents change, their importance seems to diminish exponentially. I remember being young at Munner’s for Thanksgiving and feeling so let down that there were no presents to go along with the big meal and family gathering. “What a tease” I would grumpily decide. Now the excited feeling in my heart is the anticipation of the time spent with my wonderful family. The new additions of Mike, Katie and now our darling Jack have only served to enhance the joy we experience when we gather together. I have visions of smiles, hugs, pajamas, wine, appetizers, peanut butter balls, and a sweet baby’s smile dancing in my head. I can’t wait to be with my family and I dread the weekend ending.
New Years Eve has transformed itself as well. As a child, banging pots and twirling noise makers in the street at midnight seemed so rebellious and exciting! As a teenager and young adult partying and drinking were musts. We would plan and plan the New Years Party only to feel slightly let down that alas, New Years is really just another night out. The bars entice me less now than ever, with their $20 cover charge which gets you a Dixie cup of champagne and four sad balloons falling from the ceiling. Now I am much more content to stay in, stay safe and warm to watch the Holiday Specials and the Ball Drop in New York City.
I know that things will continue to change, they always do. Maybe they will come full circle. Maybe when I am 90 I will think it is wonderfully exciting that I am able to stay up until midnight and have someone wheel me out in the streets to bang pots and pans together celebrating the events of a year in my life. Only time will tell, but I know that time is precious and spending it with my family is the best gift I can give myself during the holidays and throughout the year.
Happy Holidays, Everyone!!!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Christmas Wish List
Dear Santa,
I have been very good this year, and while my parents are always very good to me at Christmas Time and throughout the year, there are a few things that they have not been able to find. So I was hoping that in return for my position at the top of the Nice list you would be able to grant me the following wishes:
1.) The first one is an easy one, I want none of my appliances to ever break or become obsolete ever again. Don’t worry, Santa, the requests get more and more reasonable down the list.
2.) I need a way to have a child without paying thousands of dollars up front, but I am cool with the after pregnancy costs. More specifically, I would like a guy friend who is not very attached to his sperm.
3.) Please have people stop making baby’s pictures their profile picture. It is confusing because most of those babies look similar and I can’t tell who is who. Plus it is very disturbing to see a baby’s innocent face next to “wishes the f*cking traffic on Nicholasville road would G*d D*mn clear up and everyone would go the h*ll home!”
4.) Repeal Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.
5.) Disney World Season Pass and a Disney Vacation Club Membership. I guess I can front the plane tickets.
6.) Please de-scent all of my coworkers lunches so that I don’t have to smell things that offend me (like tuna) or things that make me hungry when I was doing just fine with my sandwich and apple (like Pizza.)
7.) Never Ending Toilet Paper Rolls for each bathroom.
8.) Gift Certificates to each of my favorite restaurants, alphabetized and organized into days of the week that I enjoy eating there.
9.) Make Cristy’s Diabetes go away.
10.) Helicopter so that I can go see Jack whenever I want. That means that Meg and Mike will need a landing pad in their back yard…so that, too.
11.) Vegan cheese that tastes like cheese
12.) After you drop off all of these gifts on Christmas Morning, please leave an elf behind to box up my decorations, roll up the lights, carry everything down to the garage, reorganize said garage, and take my dog out to pee before he leaves.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
I have been very good this year, and while my parents are always very good to me at Christmas Time and throughout the year, there are a few things that they have not been able to find. So I was hoping that in return for my position at the top of the Nice list you would be able to grant me the following wishes:
1.) The first one is an easy one, I want none of my appliances to ever break or become obsolete ever again. Don’t worry, Santa, the requests get more and more reasonable down the list.
2.) I need a way to have a child without paying thousands of dollars up front, but I am cool with the after pregnancy costs. More specifically, I would like a guy friend who is not very attached to his sperm.
3.) Please have people stop making baby’s pictures their profile picture. It is confusing because most of those babies look similar and I can’t tell who is who. Plus it is very disturbing to see a baby’s innocent face next to “wishes the f*cking traffic on Nicholasville road would G*d D*mn clear up and everyone would go the h*ll home!”
4.) Repeal Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.
5.) Disney World Season Pass and a Disney Vacation Club Membership. I guess I can front the plane tickets.
6.) Please de-scent all of my coworkers lunches so that I don’t have to smell things that offend me (like tuna) or things that make me hungry when I was doing just fine with my sandwich and apple (like Pizza.)
7.) Never Ending Toilet Paper Rolls for each bathroom.
8.) Gift Certificates to each of my favorite restaurants, alphabetized and organized into days of the week that I enjoy eating there.
9.) Make Cristy’s Diabetes go away.
10.) Helicopter so that I can go see Jack whenever I want. That means that Meg and Mike will need a landing pad in their back yard…so that, too.
11.) Vegan cheese that tastes like cheese
12.) After you drop off all of these gifts on Christmas Morning, please leave an elf behind to box up my decorations, roll up the lights, carry everything down to the garage, reorganize said garage, and take my dog out to pee before he leaves.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Letter to my Mutt
Dear Dakota,
I am so glad that you were born. Someone thought so little of you that they tossed you and your sisters in a box in the woods but luckily for you and the other rescue dogs most people are not like that person. Someone found you and gave you a temporary home until I could find you and become your lifetime home.
I love that there will never be another doggie just like you. You are unique and one of a kind and the fact that you are not a full breed dog means that you might not have undesirable characteristics that can result from over breeding.
I love that strangers are so curious about your sweet uniqueness that they consistently stop me to ask what type of dog you are. No one else can have one of you; you are your own individual made-up breed!
I love that you seem to know that you were rescued. You are so grateful to me for saving your life so you try extra hard to make me happy each day. Of course you are naughty sometimes but you find ways to say you are sorry.
I love your long undocked tail that looks like a broom sweeping the ground when you run by.
Your right ear will stand up but the other does not unless something extremely exciting is happening. Usually that floppy left ear just lies there, and it makes your face asymmetrical and adorable!
Above all else I love that you are my dog and I am so glad that you came into my life when you did, making you the only positive thing that resulted from my previous relationship! I will be your home and I promise to take good care of you because you love me unconditionally.
Love, Ann
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Break Up Blog
I was cruising back through my day planner today examining the events of the last year and phew, I am worn out now. The calendar is a tell-tale roadmap of the rollercoaster that was my life for the approximately 5 months that I allowed my ex to perpetually reenter it. Needless to say I am very much looking forward to 2011 and the beautiful things it should bring if I am entitled the karma that everyone keeps saying I am. I am picturing Ellen Degeneres showing up at my house and offering to entertain me personally with stand-up while her vegan chef cooks me a 6 course dinner. Additionally, global warming will be reversed by all the vegetarians taking over the US, so I don’t have to worry about that anymore, beer reverts to being a quarter at bars in the Northern Kentucky area, and I win four free trips to Disney…no make that five.
When someone tells you that they will never hurt you, all that means is that they can not envision themselves hurting you at that particular time. And being hurt sucks. When everything you think you want and love falls apart in a matter of a few weeks, the physical pain of it rivals the emotional pain. My calendar reads like a blank book for those three weeks following our return from the “Anniversary” Trip which was actually “Ann watches in vain while her wife texts her new girlfriend” Trip. The calendar is literally blank, which is how I felt. I look at it now as wasted time, a period in my life that I barely remember and don’t want to. I do remember at times walking through the grocery with an empty cart (see what I am doing with the empty metaphors?) in a zombie like state, not even knowing what I was doing there because I wasn’t hungry in the least.
Slowly but with marked set-backs every time she decided that she wanted to get back together (for sure this time, not like last time, I cant live without you, you are my everything, blah, blah, blah,) I began to climb through the fog. I could breathe easier each week, I could enjoy myself with my friends, I could get through most of a work day without spending 2 hours in the bathroom stall crying into my sad little wad of toilet paper. Set-backs however were usually fairly extreme each time that I caught her cheating again and felt insanity like I have never felt to the point of blind rage.
I would feel that I had finally reached the breaking point, that moment when I knew that I had to move on, however I never really got there. There was always this voice in my head telling me that I would never find someone again and that it would be best and easiest to try to go back to things the way they were before. But of course you can never go back to things the way they were before, life doesn’t work that way and thank God that it doesn’t. Too many of us would simply push that rewind button, go back to our old ways and never know what could have been or what should have been.
Advice from friends and from the rational side of my self would seem to make sense and register but then wisp out of my ear like smoke in a car escaping through open windows. The strength was there one minute, and gone the next. I had a distinct inability to hate any of her flaws. Things that I had known were flaws when we were together were always endearing to me since they were a part of her. Once I finally had the trigger that allowed me to pull away I saw all of those flaws in high definition and surround sound. They were magnified and so apparent to me that I could not understand why I had not been able to see them during the roller coaster ride. I guess when you are moving that fast and there is so much up and down and upside down turns you can’t see the bumps and cracks.
For example, how could overt narcissism be anything but disgustingly annoying? I don’t understand what I saw as endearing in that trait and the world may never know. When I finally opened myself up to meeting someone new at just the time that the final text that broke the cheater’s back was found, it was almost an instantaneous release of my feelings for her.
I was no longer attracted to her, I saw every flaw in her and her life, I could breathe, I could make decisions, and most importantly, I was happy. That moment when you know you are free is like finding the solution to the ultimate math problem.
Obviously that trigger is different for everyone, finding it is key, but it’s like one of those flying keys in Harry Potter that are nearly impossible to catch without magic. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that break ups and relationships are so difficult, just like snowflakes no two are the same.
So I am sure I will learn many more lessons but just a little too late, as is my trend. But for now I am going to go clean my house and give Koda a bath because Ellen Degeneres is coming over very soon!
When someone tells you that they will never hurt you, all that means is that they can not envision themselves hurting you at that particular time. And being hurt sucks. When everything you think you want and love falls apart in a matter of a few weeks, the physical pain of it rivals the emotional pain. My calendar reads like a blank book for those three weeks following our return from the “Anniversary” Trip which was actually “Ann watches in vain while her wife texts her new girlfriend” Trip. The calendar is literally blank, which is how I felt. I look at it now as wasted time, a period in my life that I barely remember and don’t want to. I do remember at times walking through the grocery with an empty cart (see what I am doing with the empty metaphors?) in a zombie like state, not even knowing what I was doing there because I wasn’t hungry in the least.
Slowly but with marked set-backs every time she decided that she wanted to get back together (for sure this time, not like last time, I cant live without you, you are my everything, blah, blah, blah,) I began to climb through the fog. I could breathe easier each week, I could enjoy myself with my friends, I could get through most of a work day without spending 2 hours in the bathroom stall crying into my sad little wad of toilet paper. Set-backs however were usually fairly extreme each time that I caught her cheating again and felt insanity like I have never felt to the point of blind rage.
I would feel that I had finally reached the breaking point, that moment when I knew that I had to move on, however I never really got there. There was always this voice in my head telling me that I would never find someone again and that it would be best and easiest to try to go back to things the way they were before. But of course you can never go back to things the way they were before, life doesn’t work that way and thank God that it doesn’t. Too many of us would simply push that rewind button, go back to our old ways and never know what could have been or what should have been.
Advice from friends and from the rational side of my self would seem to make sense and register but then wisp out of my ear like smoke in a car escaping through open windows. The strength was there one minute, and gone the next. I had a distinct inability to hate any of her flaws. Things that I had known were flaws when we were together were always endearing to me since they were a part of her. Once I finally had the trigger that allowed me to pull away I saw all of those flaws in high definition and surround sound. They were magnified and so apparent to me that I could not understand why I had not been able to see them during the roller coaster ride. I guess when you are moving that fast and there is so much up and down and upside down turns you can’t see the bumps and cracks.
For example, how could overt narcissism be anything but disgustingly annoying? I don’t understand what I saw as endearing in that trait and the world may never know. When I finally opened myself up to meeting someone new at just the time that the final text that broke the cheater’s back was found, it was almost an instantaneous release of my feelings for her.
I was no longer attracted to her, I saw every flaw in her and her life, I could breathe, I could make decisions, and most importantly, I was happy. That moment when you know you are free is like finding the solution to the ultimate math problem.
Obviously that trigger is different for everyone, finding it is key, but it’s like one of those flying keys in Harry Potter that are nearly impossible to catch without magic. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that break ups and relationships are so difficult, just like snowflakes no two are the same.
So I am sure I will learn many more lessons but just a little too late, as is my trend. But for now I am going to go clean my house and give Koda a bath because Ellen Degeneres is coming over very soon!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Movies My Dad Likes
My taste in movies is a bit like my taste in music, in that there is no real rhyme or reason to my collection. It is safe to assume that the collection of movies I currently own (minus some that were unfortunately lost in the robbery, I mean last break up) represent my favorite movies. Among them are romance, documentaries, scary movies, musicals (OK, maybe an overabundance of these,) cartoons, drama, etc.
I found myself DVRing and then watching Only The Lonely a few nights ago and I sat wondering why in the hell I consistently watch this movie when it is on and what about it I really enjoy. I couldn’t put my finger on it, save for one quality it contained. My Dad loves it. I then walked over to the bookcase containing all my DVDs (and yes some remaining VHS Tapes) and scanned the collection for further evidence of movies I like just because my Dad does. There they sat, staring back at me in all their randomness: Star Wars, Dances with Wolves, The Great Outdoors, The Muppets Take Manhattan, Riding in Cars with Boys, Superman. The list goes on and on.
For the most part, my personal favorite genres of movie can be summed up in Chick Flicks (i.e. Fried Green Tomatoes,) Musicals (duh,) and witty comedies (i.e. Mean Girls.) However my overall list of Favorite movies extends well beyond those constrictions. Our love for things such as movies and music can stem from so many factors other than simply plot, theme or category. Star Wars is the best example because under controlled circumstances I would never enjoy those movies. Poorly acted fantasy about space and robots, not my typical cup of tea. But we watched them when we were little, Dad liked them, so we wanted to like them, too so we could all watch together. They are attached to some foggy memories that I can’t even recall which make me feel comfortable and safe.
I believe that this love of things my parents love extends over to my Disney obsession. Just as my Dad rolls his eyes whenever I get a new pet and then gushes over them when he sees them, he will tease me about Disney trips but secretly loves being there as much as I do. Last time we went to Epcot we walked in grabbed a map and Dad said I don’t care what we do but when can we go on “Ellen’s Energy Adventure?” I regrettably had to inform him that this ride was under construction for the month, and darned if the 60 year old President of a successful Engineering firm didn’t look at me and pout his lower lip in protest. Now that I am older I realized that he loves the Hall of Presidents, so I love going to the Hall of Presidents with him, even though I likely would have skipped it without him.
Whether my love for Disney stems from my parents loving the place and taking us there every year, or they loved it so much because of watching me enjoy it, I can’t be sure. It’s the chicken or the egg question and honestly could be a combination of both factors.
Regardless, it is apparent to me that my parents values, pastimes and taste have a huge affect on my activities and I am glad that they do. Every time I watch Clueless I picture my dad holding up his fingers in a “W’ and saying “WHATever!!”
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Lessons for the Considerate
Thanks to the abundance of rude people I have encountered lately in the Tri-State area, I have composed a short list of guidelines for people who wish to be considerate.
1. Your time is less important than other people’s time.
2. It is your fault that you don’t possess the ability to read minds of other drivers. If someone wants to come over in your lane and doesn’t signal, use Jedi Mind Reading tricks to sense it and yield. Otherwise you will irritate them.
3. Always yield to anyone else in the grocery. You are invisible and they are likely under the reasonable impression that they are the only person in the store.
4. Other people don’t make mistakes driving, only you do. That belligerent red neck honking his horn and waving fingers at you is a perfect driver so you should understand his frustration with your incompetence.
5. It is a scientific fact that the line you are standing in will move faster if the person behind you stands on your heals and breathes down your neck, so deal with it. Additionally, if you are not panicking because you fear you are not putting your wallet away and moving from the register quickly enough, then you really aren’t all that considerate.
6. Four-way stops indicate that one should stop then go right away, however YOU must wait until all others have vacated the intersection.
7. If someone’s car music or motorcycle is too loud for your ears then buy earplugs and wear them whenever you are out of your home. Or even wear them at home if you find your neighbors dog barks through the night.
8. If a person is drunk then they are not responsible for their own actions, thus if they step on your foot, puke on your leg or grab your girlfriend’s boob then just shake it off and buy them another beer.
9. You are not permitted to park in the fire lane at the Grocery store but other people are. For explanation please see #1.
10. Even if the reason you are on the highway on-ramp is because you would like to merge onto the highway, allow the person behind you to merge before you so that they can zoom past you before you attempt to enter, even if it means driving in the emergency lane for a while. Again, Please see #1.
1. Your time is less important than other people’s time.
2. It is your fault that you don’t possess the ability to read minds of other drivers. If someone wants to come over in your lane and doesn’t signal, use Jedi Mind Reading tricks to sense it and yield. Otherwise you will irritate them.
3. Always yield to anyone else in the grocery. You are invisible and they are likely under the reasonable impression that they are the only person in the store.
4. Other people don’t make mistakes driving, only you do. That belligerent red neck honking his horn and waving fingers at you is a perfect driver so you should understand his frustration with your incompetence.
5. It is a scientific fact that the line you are standing in will move faster if the person behind you stands on your heals and breathes down your neck, so deal with it. Additionally, if you are not panicking because you fear you are not putting your wallet away and moving from the register quickly enough, then you really aren’t all that considerate.
6. Four-way stops indicate that one should stop then go right away, however YOU must wait until all others have vacated the intersection.
7. If someone’s car music or motorcycle is too loud for your ears then buy earplugs and wear them whenever you are out of your home. Or even wear them at home if you find your neighbors dog barks through the night.
8. If a person is drunk then they are not responsible for their own actions, thus if they step on your foot, puke on your leg or grab your girlfriend’s boob then just shake it off and buy them another beer.
9. You are not permitted to park in the fire lane at the Grocery store but other people are. For explanation please see #1.
10. Even if the reason you are on the highway on-ramp is because you would like to merge onto the highway, allow the person behind you to merge before you so that they can zoom past you before you attempt to enter, even if it means driving in the emergency lane for a while. Again, Please see #1.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
“Cancellation Specialists”
I fully understand that I am in sales and that I use classic sales tactics and training to better assist my students in making their school decision. I get it, I am a sales person. But I really hope that I am nothing like the cheesy AT&T sales person who just tried to pull one over on me.
I have had an unused second line on my cell phone plan for roughly 4 years. The phone companies are genius (on a side note does it mean that I am not one since I always misspell the word “genius?”) They set it up so that you get a discounted new phone every year, but only if you renew your contract for another year. Works well for me because I have been with AT&T for about 9 years, however when you add a second line for someone you are dating, not so brilliant.
Now that it is August my second line is finally able to be cancelled without a penalty and I am super pumped to have a lower cell phone bill. I was happily pondering the reduced amount as I jumped on AT&T’s website to find the customer service number. That was when this experience started to turn ugly. For Sales, click here. For Sales regarding your bill regarding your cell service on Jupiter, click here. Type in your password for online access…access denied. Seriously? I was thinking to myself that I really just want to talk to someone but the website phone number hunt was nothing compared to what happened when I actually found the number (not sure how it just popped up when I accidentally clicked somewhere that wasn’t what I thought I needed.)
The first person who attempted to “assist” me told me that I am not being charged for a second line. I was very disappointed because I was looking forward to that lower cell phone bill but I thanked him and hung up, only to look up my bill online and find that indeed I was being charged every month for that extra line. Thanks, sir. Of course I had already closed the magical portal to the customer service number so I had to rediscover it (again, no clue where it is if you are experiencing a similar issue.)
The second time I called I was passed around to three different people who all asked me the same questions in three different ways until I was finally on the phone with the Cancellation Specialist, i.e. Sales Person. His falsely chipper over annunciated sales voice thanked me for my patience and I immediately lost all patience with him and the whole situation.
“And who am I speaking with today?” He asked.
“Ann London.” I mean, who else would it be? At this point I have told them my name, address, phone number, social security number, pass code and number of freckles 10 times already.
“Alright Miss London, I understand that you want to cancel the second line on your phone plan, now tell me, what’s going on with you?” And his voice dropped into fake concerned “I’m here to help you” guy tone.
“You want to hear my whole life story? Ok, well I had a girlfriend and she joined my phone plan so that we could save money. Well we broke up because she was crazy and I tried to cancel the line then but she had just received a brand new phone so I kept the line inactive until I was able to cancel it without a penalty the size of my mortgage payment. About that time, girlfriend number two and I were cohabitating so she took over the second line, again so that we could both save money. ‘Both save money’ in both instances meant that I paid while the girlfriend in question saved money by not paying at all. Second girlfriend ditched her AT&T line when she didn’t want me to catch on that she was texting her new ‘friend’ 23.5 hours out of the day. Second girlfriend is now sleeping with her ‘friend’ and I will never share a line with someone again. So now I have had this line for 4 years and I want it gone…immediately.”
I am assuming that this situation is not in Cancellation Specialist’s training manual so he was quiet for a second. But he was a determined little sales guy, probably new, so he asked me if my ex wanted to keep the line and have it transferred to her. I told him I didn’t know he would have to call her himself, since I don’t care whether she has a place to live, much less a phone.
This is when I started to break him down and I could almost feel him wondering where he had gone wrong during his sales pitch. He switched directions and asked me if I had a laptop, presumably to sell me overpriced internet service.
“No.”
Denied again. I had demoted him to Customer Service Representative at this point, and he begrudgingly cancelled the line, and amazingly was able to change my rate plan so that I am saving $20 per month on my cell phone bill. I pointed the savings out to him before we said our goodbyes and he muttered “yeah.” I was able to get him to do the opposite of his intentions and he loathed me for it.
Long story short, don’t share phone plans with people unless they also sign their soul to you in writing as a good faith deposit. Secondly, always be prepared for Cancellation Specialists and their crappy sales training. You can come out on top without pulling a Chandler Bing and being forced to shout “I wanna quit the gym!!”
I have had an unused second line on my cell phone plan for roughly 4 years. The phone companies are genius (on a side note does it mean that I am not one since I always misspell the word “genius?”) They set it up so that you get a discounted new phone every year, but only if you renew your contract for another year. Works well for me because I have been with AT&T for about 9 years, however when you add a second line for someone you are dating, not so brilliant.
Now that it is August my second line is finally able to be cancelled without a penalty and I am super pumped to have a lower cell phone bill. I was happily pondering the reduced amount as I jumped on AT&T’s website to find the customer service number. That was when this experience started to turn ugly. For Sales, click here. For Sales regarding your bill regarding your cell service on Jupiter, click here. Type in your password for online access…access denied. Seriously? I was thinking to myself that I really just want to talk to someone but the website phone number hunt was nothing compared to what happened when I actually found the number (not sure how it just popped up when I accidentally clicked somewhere that wasn’t what I thought I needed.)
The first person who attempted to “assist” me told me that I am not being charged for a second line. I was very disappointed because I was looking forward to that lower cell phone bill but I thanked him and hung up, only to look up my bill online and find that indeed I was being charged every month for that extra line. Thanks, sir. Of course I had already closed the magical portal to the customer service number so I had to rediscover it (again, no clue where it is if you are experiencing a similar issue.)
The second time I called I was passed around to three different people who all asked me the same questions in three different ways until I was finally on the phone with the Cancellation Specialist, i.e. Sales Person. His falsely chipper over annunciated sales voice thanked me for my patience and I immediately lost all patience with him and the whole situation.
“And who am I speaking with today?” He asked.
“Ann London.” I mean, who else would it be? At this point I have told them my name, address, phone number, social security number, pass code and number of freckles 10 times already.
“Alright Miss London, I understand that you want to cancel the second line on your phone plan, now tell me, what’s going on with you?” And his voice dropped into fake concerned “I’m here to help you” guy tone.
“You want to hear my whole life story? Ok, well I had a girlfriend and she joined my phone plan so that we could save money. Well we broke up because she was crazy and I tried to cancel the line then but she had just received a brand new phone so I kept the line inactive until I was able to cancel it without a penalty the size of my mortgage payment. About that time, girlfriend number two and I were cohabitating so she took over the second line, again so that we could both save money. ‘Both save money’ in both instances meant that I paid while the girlfriend in question saved money by not paying at all. Second girlfriend ditched her AT&T line when she didn’t want me to catch on that she was texting her new ‘friend’ 23.5 hours out of the day. Second girlfriend is now sleeping with her ‘friend’ and I will never share a line with someone again. So now I have had this line for 4 years and I want it gone…immediately.”
I am assuming that this situation is not in Cancellation Specialist’s training manual so he was quiet for a second. But he was a determined little sales guy, probably new, so he asked me if my ex wanted to keep the line and have it transferred to her. I told him I didn’t know he would have to call her himself, since I don’t care whether she has a place to live, much less a phone.
This is when I started to break him down and I could almost feel him wondering where he had gone wrong during his sales pitch. He switched directions and asked me if I had a laptop, presumably to sell me overpriced internet service.
“No.”
Denied again. I had demoted him to Customer Service Representative at this point, and he begrudgingly cancelled the line, and amazingly was able to change my rate plan so that I am saving $20 per month on my cell phone bill. I pointed the savings out to him before we said our goodbyes and he muttered “yeah.” I was able to get him to do the opposite of his intentions and he loathed me for it.
Long story short, don’t share phone plans with people unless they also sign their soul to you in writing as a good faith deposit. Secondly, always be prepared for Cancellation Specialists and their crappy sales training. You can come out on top without pulling a Chandler Bing and being forced to shout “I wanna quit the gym!!”
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Disney Freak Discusses Disneyness
There was an article in my AllEars Newsletter this week regarding “Disney Hooks.” Things that keep you going back to Disney and also let you know that you have arrived in the most Magical World on the planet. To me those are two completely different things, so I will cover that more, later. I have been asked and teased so many times about my persistence in going back to Walt Disney World somewhat obsessively every year that I finally feel the need to try to justify my vacation planning redundancy. And also, who am I kidding, I love a chance to discuss all things Mickey.
There are first and foremost those moments where I realize that all my planning, packing and dreaming is at an end and I am actually, physically in Walt Disney World. I will flat out admit that before a Disney vacation I have recurring nightmares that I can’t find my tickets, or my favorite rides are all closed, or the entire park has been mysteriously removed by a giant alien’s laser gun. So once I arrive and I realize that every thing is as it should be and the forecast is not monsoons for the entire week then I feel utterly relieved and ecstatic.
One of the first of these moments I experience every trip is the sighting of whatever large landmark comes across my field of vision first. This will cause me to gasp dramatically and shout “Look it’s the Insert giant Icon here!!!” Tower of Terror, Swan and Dolphin Hotel, Castle, Ball (as Epcot’s Spaceship Earth will always be nicknamed) all evoke the same reaction.
Another right of passage into a Disney Vacation is your first interaction with a Disney Cast Member. Always happy, knowing exactly what to say to make me smile, they are trained to be aware that at any time they could be someone’s first interaction and first impression of their vacation in The World. Whatever Happy Pills those people take, I want some to take home with me. It could possibly aid with the post-Mickey tantrums. One vacation I was tearing up, shoulders slumped over as I dragged my sad little luggage down the hallway. A cast member recognized the body language and gently reminded me that there will always be time for more Disney Vacations and she would look forward to seeing me again. I looked up at her, tears pouring out of my eyes and ordered her not to be so nice to me since it only made it harder to leave!
Speaking of the resorts, that leads me to another heart pounding “I have finally arrived moment.” Ever since we were kids, my Brother and Sister and I loved arriving at new hotel rooms. Perhaps it is because we had 30 new hotel rooms per 2 week vacation sometimes, but now when I arrive in a room that will be my home for a whole week I feel like I am moving into a new apartment. No matter how many times I have looked up the pictures online of my Disney Hotel’s accommodations, I will still feel that familiar pounding in my chest and the grin on my face as I “Insert Key Card Here” and woosh the door open to see my Disney digs. I usually rush to turn on the TV and watch the Disney Vacation Club or Disney Resort Welcome channels which seem to annoy everyone else but make me giggle inside.
At the end of a long day at Disney, sometimes a good time for the vacation to sink in is the bus ride back to the hotel. Sore feet, tired, full of yummy food and new Disney memories; I usually tuck a purchase under my feet and reflect on why I love this place so much. Usually there is a kid who by some miracle is still awake rather than draped lifeless across their parent’s lap and I ask them what their favorite thing was. One little girl told me that it used to be the Pirates however she enlightened me that Pirates are in actuality thieves so she had decided they weren’t cool anymore. Pulling into the hotel, the announcer will ask me to enjoy the rest of my stay at Walt Disney World and bid me “welcome home” to my resort.
And that leads me to the magical moments I experience on vacation that fill my heart every year and keep me coming back to visit the Mouse. There are too many to list (have I mentioned that I love this freakin’ place) but I have narrowed down a few of my favorites.
My all time favorite ride is Peter Pan’s Flight in the Magic Kingdom’s Fantasy Land. I love it for a million reasons including the fact that it is my favorite Disney movie, I adore the characters, the ride has been the same since I was a little girl and I love the feeling of flying over London and then Never Never Land. The moment when I arrive at the point in line when only a few other guests and the Disney Cast Member stand between me and the moving walkway, I always count people to try to figure out what color ship will carry me on my flight with Peter Pan this time. It is a ritual I have performed countless times and I feel just as I did when I was 8 years old.
A few steps away into the Liberty Square area of Magic Kingdom sits the Haunted Mansion. I simply can never get enough of this ride. They recently added a whole new room and when I found that out I felt as though someone told me my condo was getting another whole floor. Although if it did it wouldn’t have ghostly footsteps on the ceiling or moving staircases so it still wouldn’t be quite as exciting. When I am standing in the stretching room at the beginning of this ride while the “Ghost Host” attempts to scare the little ones and adults suffering from claustrophobia; that is a moment when I stand in the dark and can’t fight the huge smile that inevitably follows. I probably look like a creepy haunted freak, now that I think about it…
My favorite night time show at Disney World is by far Illuminations at Epcot. They start warning people to move to their selected viewing location early on in order to avoid people tromping all over each other in the dark. The best thing to do is to find a spot close to a beer cart, preferably in England’s outside beer garden, and plop down early to await the show. The beer combined with the Disney Magic start to build the excitement, and then when the lights finally dim, the fiery torches light and the announcer’s booming yet comforting voice waves over the entire park:
"Good evening, and welcome.We've gathered here tonight, around the fire, as people of all lands have gathered for thousands and thousandsof years before us, to share the light and to share a story an amazing story, as old as time itselfbut still being written.”
Ok, so maybe it sounds cheesy but it is pure Disney awesomeness. Seriously I want to meet the dude that does the voice for this announcement and tell him he is a huge part of my Disney experience.
There is a sweet girl named Cristy who will be drug by her hair, ok maybe just by her arm cause her hair is too short, all over Disney World and I will apologize before hand for all of the useless Disney information that she will ingest. However I absolutely love sharing this special place with people who are special to me, and I guarantee she will be forced to giggle many times when she sees me hug characters and wave my Mickey Ice Cream around like a 5 year old.
Well, either I have inspired you to drop what you are doing, call the travel agent, and book a Disney Vacation as soon as the funds are available, or you have simply used this blog to confirm what you already knew, that I am a huge Cartoon loving, Parade Character waving, Mouse hugging, Firework crying, child in an adults body, Disney Freak. Either way, I will be back there in April, come hell or Alien Laser (and I will have nightmares about both beginning weeks before hand.)
There are first and foremost those moments where I realize that all my planning, packing and dreaming is at an end and I am actually, physically in Walt Disney World. I will flat out admit that before a Disney vacation I have recurring nightmares that I can’t find my tickets, or my favorite rides are all closed, or the entire park has been mysteriously removed by a giant alien’s laser gun. So once I arrive and I realize that every thing is as it should be and the forecast is not monsoons for the entire week then I feel utterly relieved and ecstatic.
One of the first of these moments I experience every trip is the sighting of whatever large landmark comes across my field of vision first. This will cause me to gasp dramatically and shout “Look it’s the Insert giant Icon here!!!” Tower of Terror, Swan and Dolphin Hotel, Castle, Ball (as Epcot’s Spaceship Earth will always be nicknamed) all evoke the same reaction.
Another right of passage into a Disney Vacation is your first interaction with a Disney Cast Member. Always happy, knowing exactly what to say to make me smile, they are trained to be aware that at any time they could be someone’s first interaction and first impression of their vacation in The World. Whatever Happy Pills those people take, I want some to take home with me. It could possibly aid with the post-Mickey tantrums. One vacation I was tearing up, shoulders slumped over as I dragged my sad little luggage down the hallway. A cast member recognized the body language and gently reminded me that there will always be time for more Disney Vacations and she would look forward to seeing me again. I looked up at her, tears pouring out of my eyes and ordered her not to be so nice to me since it only made it harder to leave!
Speaking of the resorts, that leads me to another heart pounding “I have finally arrived moment.” Ever since we were kids, my Brother and Sister and I loved arriving at new hotel rooms. Perhaps it is because we had 30 new hotel rooms per 2 week vacation sometimes, but now when I arrive in a room that will be my home for a whole week I feel like I am moving into a new apartment. No matter how many times I have looked up the pictures online of my Disney Hotel’s accommodations, I will still feel that familiar pounding in my chest and the grin on my face as I “Insert Key Card Here” and woosh the door open to see my Disney digs. I usually rush to turn on the TV and watch the Disney Vacation Club or Disney Resort Welcome channels which seem to annoy everyone else but make me giggle inside.
At the end of a long day at Disney, sometimes a good time for the vacation to sink in is the bus ride back to the hotel. Sore feet, tired, full of yummy food and new Disney memories; I usually tuck a purchase under my feet and reflect on why I love this place so much. Usually there is a kid who by some miracle is still awake rather than draped lifeless across their parent’s lap and I ask them what their favorite thing was. One little girl told me that it used to be the Pirates however she enlightened me that Pirates are in actuality thieves so she had decided they weren’t cool anymore. Pulling into the hotel, the announcer will ask me to enjoy the rest of my stay at Walt Disney World and bid me “welcome home” to my resort.
And that leads me to the magical moments I experience on vacation that fill my heart every year and keep me coming back to visit the Mouse. There are too many to list (have I mentioned that I love this freakin’ place) but I have narrowed down a few of my favorites.
My all time favorite ride is Peter Pan’s Flight in the Magic Kingdom’s Fantasy Land. I love it for a million reasons including the fact that it is my favorite Disney movie, I adore the characters, the ride has been the same since I was a little girl and I love the feeling of flying over London and then Never Never Land. The moment when I arrive at the point in line when only a few other guests and the Disney Cast Member stand between me and the moving walkway, I always count people to try to figure out what color ship will carry me on my flight with Peter Pan this time. It is a ritual I have performed countless times and I feel just as I did when I was 8 years old.
A few steps away into the Liberty Square area of Magic Kingdom sits the Haunted Mansion. I simply can never get enough of this ride. They recently added a whole new room and when I found that out I felt as though someone told me my condo was getting another whole floor. Although if it did it wouldn’t have ghostly footsteps on the ceiling or moving staircases so it still wouldn’t be quite as exciting. When I am standing in the stretching room at the beginning of this ride while the “Ghost Host” attempts to scare the little ones and adults suffering from claustrophobia; that is a moment when I stand in the dark and can’t fight the huge smile that inevitably follows. I probably look like a creepy haunted freak, now that I think about it…
My favorite night time show at Disney World is by far Illuminations at Epcot. They start warning people to move to their selected viewing location early on in order to avoid people tromping all over each other in the dark. The best thing to do is to find a spot close to a beer cart, preferably in England’s outside beer garden, and plop down early to await the show. The beer combined with the Disney Magic start to build the excitement, and then when the lights finally dim, the fiery torches light and the announcer’s booming yet comforting voice waves over the entire park:
"Good evening, and welcome.We've gathered here tonight, around the fire, as people of all lands have gathered for thousands and thousandsof years before us, to share the light and to share a story an amazing story, as old as time itselfbut still being written.”
Ok, so maybe it sounds cheesy but it is pure Disney awesomeness. Seriously I want to meet the dude that does the voice for this announcement and tell him he is a huge part of my Disney experience.
There is a sweet girl named Cristy who will be drug by her hair, ok maybe just by her arm cause her hair is too short, all over Disney World and I will apologize before hand for all of the useless Disney information that she will ingest. However I absolutely love sharing this special place with people who are special to me, and I guarantee she will be forced to giggle many times when she sees me hug characters and wave my Mickey Ice Cream around like a 5 year old.
Well, either I have inspired you to drop what you are doing, call the travel agent, and book a Disney Vacation as soon as the funds are available, or you have simply used this blog to confirm what you already knew, that I am a huge Cartoon loving, Parade Character waving, Mouse hugging, Firework crying, child in an adults body, Disney Freak. Either way, I will be back there in April, come hell or Alien Laser (and I will have nightmares about both beginning weeks before hand.)
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Donkeys
Donkeys
Today I didn’t have an idea for a blog, but knew that I wanted to write one (a common and uninteresting excuse for not writing, I know) so I used the oldest trick in the book – making someone else pick something for me. So I asked my coworker for an idea or something I could research. Her response?
“Donkeys, I like donkeys.”
Well, who doesn’t? And DeeAnne probably figured that I couldn’t say no to an animal topic, whether it be scorpions or a cute little donkey so here goes.
I actually feel a calling to own a little piece of land at some point so that I can provide home to various farm animals and pets coming from horrible situations all across the country. They can live out the rest of their lives forgetting that people are mean on my happy farm of love. Want to hug a pig? Come visit! Enjoy farm fresh eggs? I’ll have some for you! Want to cut off a chicken’s head and watch him run around and smack into things? Yeah, then find somewhere else.
But I think a donkey would be more than welcome, especially if he let me dress him up in dresses and bonnets and put lipstick on him like in Nanny McPhee. Or maybe he would talk like Donkey in Shreck and I could train him to go to other farms and recruit animals out of undesirable personal situations. My recruiting background lends me many questions I could have him ask them.
“Ppsst, hey goat, over here, it’s the donkey in the dress by the barbed wire. Is there anything you would change about your current situation? How long is your life expectancy on this farm? Tell me about your hopes and dreams, and do they involve branding and/or cattle prods?”
If he were able to get them to open up, I am confident that they would find my farm to be a much safer alternative which is free of barbed wire, and I would have a party of awesome animals on my hands in no time, flat.
Something that I have realized about donkeys, they must be extremely useful and super awesome, seeing as there are like a million names for them. Donkey, Ass, Jackass, Burro. Male ass is called a Jack, and female a Jenny, which seems more polite than “Ass.” Then if a Jack and a Mare get jiggy with it, they produce a Mule, and if a male horse accosts a Jenny she will give birth to a Hinny. Luckily for the female donkeys that doesn’t happen very often, which is why you don’t see many Hinny’s tromping around your local farms.
When donkeys were widely used as beasts of burden they would commonly follow their human companions without the use of a lead or rope. They are so loyal that they will carry all your crap for you and follow you into the Grand Canyon over and over again. That is dedication. If I strapped some beer and sandwiches to my dog Dakota, she would eat the sandwiches and then refuse to move until I unstrapped her, I am sure of it. However it might be worth a try.
Donkeys are basically just as cool and cute as zebras but they don’t have the stripes, or the distinction of being shouted last every time someone plays the alphabet game. When I have a donkey, or a pack of donkeys, which is called a Pace, then I will name one of them Zebra and just tell everyone he is a rare stripeless zebra from Africa. Unless he talks, then I will name him Recruiting Manager.
Today I didn’t have an idea for a blog, but knew that I wanted to write one (a common and uninteresting excuse for not writing, I know) so I used the oldest trick in the book – making someone else pick something for me. So I asked my coworker for an idea or something I could research. Her response?
“Donkeys, I like donkeys.”
Well, who doesn’t? And DeeAnne probably figured that I couldn’t say no to an animal topic, whether it be scorpions or a cute little donkey so here goes.
I actually feel a calling to own a little piece of land at some point so that I can provide home to various farm animals and pets coming from horrible situations all across the country. They can live out the rest of their lives forgetting that people are mean on my happy farm of love. Want to hug a pig? Come visit! Enjoy farm fresh eggs? I’ll have some for you! Want to cut off a chicken’s head and watch him run around and smack into things? Yeah, then find somewhere else.
But I think a donkey would be more than welcome, especially if he let me dress him up in dresses and bonnets and put lipstick on him like in Nanny McPhee. Or maybe he would talk like Donkey in Shreck and I could train him to go to other farms and recruit animals out of undesirable personal situations. My recruiting background lends me many questions I could have him ask them.
“Ppsst, hey goat, over here, it’s the donkey in the dress by the barbed wire. Is there anything you would change about your current situation? How long is your life expectancy on this farm? Tell me about your hopes and dreams, and do they involve branding and/or cattle prods?”
If he were able to get them to open up, I am confident that they would find my farm to be a much safer alternative which is free of barbed wire, and I would have a party of awesome animals on my hands in no time, flat.
Something that I have realized about donkeys, they must be extremely useful and super awesome, seeing as there are like a million names for them. Donkey, Ass, Jackass, Burro. Male ass is called a Jack, and female a Jenny, which seems more polite than “Ass.” Then if a Jack and a Mare get jiggy with it, they produce a Mule, and if a male horse accosts a Jenny she will give birth to a Hinny. Luckily for the female donkeys that doesn’t happen very often, which is why you don’t see many Hinny’s tromping around your local farms.
When donkeys were widely used as beasts of burden they would commonly follow their human companions without the use of a lead or rope. They are so loyal that they will carry all your crap for you and follow you into the Grand Canyon over and over again. That is dedication. If I strapped some beer and sandwiches to my dog Dakota, she would eat the sandwiches and then refuse to move until I unstrapped her, I am sure of it. However it might be worth a try.
Donkeys are basically just as cool and cute as zebras but they don’t have the stripes, or the distinction of being shouted last every time someone plays the alphabet game. When I have a donkey, or a pack of donkeys, which is called a Pace, then I will name one of them Zebra and just tell everyone he is a rare stripeless zebra from Africa. Unless he talks, then I will name him Recruiting Manager.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Adventures in Florence
We had an interesting evening last night to say the least. Koda, Sammy and I had a couple of unexpected visitors. Cristy’s air was out at home so her giant person of a doggie, Toby needed to stay at the condo due to his age and breathing problems (poor guy.) I prepared Koda and Sammy, telling them that Toby is just another dog and that he has no intentions of eating and/or stomping them. They seemed to understand but when Toby came in the condo he was breathing so loudly that he awoke the downstairs old man ghost (more on that later.) Needless to say Koda was not thrilled to let Toby smell her butt, so she hid under my legs (Ok, so she hid under Cristy’s legs but I like to pretend that she still loves me best.) Sammy slowly flattened herself further and further into the blanket on top of the chair, I assume attempting to go unseen…it worked for a while…
Once Toby stopped breathing like a freight train (mostly accomplished through him laying his belly flat on the cold floor, frog leg style) we settled in to watch Pretty Little Liars, I mean…CNN, we watched the news or something less embarrassing like that. On a side note, Toby eventually gets frustrated with having to breathe like that so he makes a giant huffy sigh which sends slobber in fourteen different directions. It’s really, um, cute…
After a well played round of PlayStation Jeopardy (seriously, Cristy, tell a girl the rules first next time,) it was time to take Koda and Toby out for their last potty break before bed. Grab leashes, grab dogs, barrel downstairs, dogs use the bathroom like good puppies so it’s time to go back in, and as I go to unlock the door, I realized….no keys. Brain was working overtime trying to think of options. Neighbor Harriet could let me in. Sure, its midnight but she locks herself out all the time. Buzzed her with a quick little buzz, not sure why, maybe it wasn’t as bad as buzzing for a long time. Might just jolt her out of her sleep rather than slowly annoying her into consciousness. Well, yeah that didn’t work so I buzzed a little longer the next time, and then again and again one more time. So about this time a very calm Cristy had taken Toby around back to check and see if we might be able to scale the balcony. And by “we” I mean Cristy because everyone knows what would happen to me if I tried to climb that thing. I’m thinking two fractured legs and a broken tail bone to start with. While she was scoping out the rock climbing situation, I was mulling over other options. Garage door opener is in my car!! Car is locked. Window beside the door, I could open it and reach through the screen….window is locked.
At this point the deck seemed to be the only option, so I followed Cristy around back. Calm as ever (even though her sugar was dropping and we had no food/juice, blood sugar meter, cell phones, etc.) she tried to see if she could jump up and grab the deck to pull herself up. It was just out of her reach, so I searched neighbors’ patios for appropriate furniture to give her a boost. Of course all I could find was a stool that probably couldn’t support a flower pot and two mesh spinning lawn chairs. Apprehensively I began to carry one of the spinning chairs over, picturing Cristy jumping from the chair, spinning in the air, then landing back with her foot piercing through the mesh, broken leg and barking dogs, and me helplessly standing there crying.
Suddenly I heard Cristy’s voice through the darkness “why don’t we just go in their door?” Could it be? The downstairs neighbors have moved to North Carolina, leaving an abandoned condo underneath mine. Their sliding door was open! All that had to be done was go in their condo, through the hallway and then back up to my door! Of course this left the burning question of how someone could pack up and move to another State and not bother to lock their ground floor sliding door which left access for every homeless person and rapist in the tri-state area to party in our hallway.
Standing on my deck in wonderment at our luck that we didn’t have to sleep in the gazebo by the pool with two dogs and only froggy lake water to drink, we came to the conclusion that the old man ghost who lived downstairs must have opened the door for us. I know he is there because he still throws tennis balls up to my deck when Koda drops them off, just the way he did when he was alive. Seriously, watch for me on Ghost Hunters. Oh and also if there is a show called “People Who do Dumb Stuff and Somehow Find Ways to Get Out of It,” then watch for me on there, as well.
Once Toby stopped breathing like a freight train (mostly accomplished through him laying his belly flat on the cold floor, frog leg style) we settled in to watch Pretty Little Liars, I mean…CNN, we watched the news or something less embarrassing like that. On a side note, Toby eventually gets frustrated with having to breathe like that so he makes a giant huffy sigh which sends slobber in fourteen different directions. It’s really, um, cute…
After a well played round of PlayStation Jeopardy (seriously, Cristy, tell a girl the rules first next time,) it was time to take Koda and Toby out for their last potty break before bed. Grab leashes, grab dogs, barrel downstairs, dogs use the bathroom like good puppies so it’s time to go back in, and as I go to unlock the door, I realized….no keys. Brain was working overtime trying to think of options. Neighbor Harriet could let me in. Sure, its midnight but she locks herself out all the time. Buzzed her with a quick little buzz, not sure why, maybe it wasn’t as bad as buzzing for a long time. Might just jolt her out of her sleep rather than slowly annoying her into consciousness. Well, yeah that didn’t work so I buzzed a little longer the next time, and then again and again one more time. So about this time a very calm Cristy had taken Toby around back to check and see if we might be able to scale the balcony. And by “we” I mean Cristy because everyone knows what would happen to me if I tried to climb that thing. I’m thinking two fractured legs and a broken tail bone to start with. While she was scoping out the rock climbing situation, I was mulling over other options. Garage door opener is in my car!! Car is locked. Window beside the door, I could open it and reach through the screen….window is locked.
At this point the deck seemed to be the only option, so I followed Cristy around back. Calm as ever (even though her sugar was dropping and we had no food/juice, blood sugar meter, cell phones, etc.) she tried to see if she could jump up and grab the deck to pull herself up. It was just out of her reach, so I searched neighbors’ patios for appropriate furniture to give her a boost. Of course all I could find was a stool that probably couldn’t support a flower pot and two mesh spinning lawn chairs. Apprehensively I began to carry one of the spinning chairs over, picturing Cristy jumping from the chair, spinning in the air, then landing back with her foot piercing through the mesh, broken leg and barking dogs, and me helplessly standing there crying.
Suddenly I heard Cristy’s voice through the darkness “why don’t we just go in their door?” Could it be? The downstairs neighbors have moved to North Carolina, leaving an abandoned condo underneath mine. Their sliding door was open! All that had to be done was go in their condo, through the hallway and then back up to my door! Of course this left the burning question of how someone could pack up and move to another State and not bother to lock their ground floor sliding door which left access for every homeless person and rapist in the tri-state area to party in our hallway.
Standing on my deck in wonderment at our luck that we didn’t have to sleep in the gazebo by the pool with two dogs and only froggy lake water to drink, we came to the conclusion that the old man ghost who lived downstairs must have opened the door for us. I know he is there because he still throws tennis balls up to my deck when Koda drops them off, just the way he did when he was alive. Seriously, watch for me on Ghost Hunters. Oh and also if there is a show called “People Who do Dumb Stuff and Somehow Find Ways to Get Out of It,” then watch for me on there, as well.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Cheese and Oreos
So, I have seriously neglected my blogging duties as of late, and the reason for that has one name. Cristy. I spend so much time trying to make her laugh via text, email or clever facebook postings (if they don’t come across as clever it’s cause we have inside jokes that you aren’t cool enough to understand, mmkay?!) that I have not needed this creative outlet. However the part of my brain that enjoys writing has begun to argue with the rest of my brain, and I am confident that is what has turned me into an Oreo Cookie addict. Yes, I have eaten a half a box of Oreos in the last couple of days….
Thus, I decided to blog about my adventures into veganism. No, I won’t lecture anyone…this time. I just have come to some conclusions worth sharing. Cheese is the best food on the planet. There, I said it. I love cheese and all its greasy, gooey, goodness. It holds casseroles together, it tops a taco and traps the yummy inside, it binds pasta dishes, makes pizza what it is and I have determined I will not be able to live much longer without my old friend, Cheese. Milk, I can do without. I think I could even learn to give up baked goods and other things that require eggs. They are weird little buggers anyways when you think about it. But Cheese is going to have to reenter my life, I just have to determine when.
I have also decided that had I not started dating a carnivore who can eat more than a giant after a 10k who fasted for a week before hand, then I might not have started craving the stuff so quickly. The biggest problem here is that I love to cook. I simply love cooking and having other people enjoy my creations. Cristy does not enjoy Peanut Butter and Jelly with vegetarian baked beans and broccoli with butter substitute. I mean, she is really nice and she would tell me she liked it and clean her plate but then I would be ordering her two large bacon pizzas with extra meat on the side in two hours time.
This diet has done a few things for me which I celebrate. First of all it has let me know that I CAN do this. I can live a vegan lifestyle and not starve. I believe that I will cut back on animal products in my life, for moral and health purposes and of course remain vegetarian.
Secondly, I have lost some weight, which always makes me happy. However one reason that I have yet to determine the end date of my vegan experience, is that I am worried I will put that weight back on immediately when I try to cram in three weeks worth of pizza, cheesy pasta, burritos, macaroni and cheese, sour creamy baked potatoes and god knows what else. Since I am dating the woman who can eat two Chipotle Burritos in one sitting and not gain an ounce on her tiny body, I fear that the only reason that I haven’t packed on weight recently given my crap-ass metabolism, is the V word. No, not that dirty minds, Veganism.
This will remain to be seen, but I am still thinking that if she has stuck around after finding nothing she likes to eat at my condo but lettuce with dressing, then she is probably a keeper…among other reasons.
Thus, I decided to blog about my adventures into veganism. No, I won’t lecture anyone…this time. I just have come to some conclusions worth sharing. Cheese is the best food on the planet. There, I said it. I love cheese and all its greasy, gooey, goodness. It holds casseroles together, it tops a taco and traps the yummy inside, it binds pasta dishes, makes pizza what it is and I have determined I will not be able to live much longer without my old friend, Cheese. Milk, I can do without. I think I could even learn to give up baked goods and other things that require eggs. They are weird little buggers anyways when you think about it. But Cheese is going to have to reenter my life, I just have to determine when.
I have also decided that had I not started dating a carnivore who can eat more than a giant after a 10k who fasted for a week before hand, then I might not have started craving the stuff so quickly. The biggest problem here is that I love to cook. I simply love cooking and having other people enjoy my creations. Cristy does not enjoy Peanut Butter and Jelly with vegetarian baked beans and broccoli with butter substitute. I mean, she is really nice and she would tell me she liked it and clean her plate but then I would be ordering her two large bacon pizzas with extra meat on the side in two hours time.
This diet has done a few things for me which I celebrate. First of all it has let me know that I CAN do this. I can live a vegan lifestyle and not starve. I believe that I will cut back on animal products in my life, for moral and health purposes and of course remain vegetarian.
Secondly, I have lost some weight, which always makes me happy. However one reason that I have yet to determine the end date of my vegan experience, is that I am worried I will put that weight back on immediately when I try to cram in three weeks worth of pizza, cheesy pasta, burritos, macaroni and cheese, sour creamy baked potatoes and god knows what else. Since I am dating the woman who can eat two Chipotle Burritos in one sitting and not gain an ounce on her tiny body, I fear that the only reason that I haven’t packed on weight recently given my crap-ass metabolism, is the V word. No, not that dirty minds, Veganism.
This will remain to be seen, but I am still thinking that if she has stuck around after finding nothing she likes to eat at my condo but lettuce with dressing, then she is probably a keeper…among other reasons.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Bodysuits
Meg: I just went into Forever 21 and they have body suits! No crotch snaps, though.
Me: What? Well in that case I dont want one.
Meg: Haha, me either, too hard to pee.
Me: I know, did we learn nothing from the 80's?
Me: What? Well in that case I dont want one.
Meg: Haha, me either, too hard to pee.
Me: I know, did we learn nothing from the 80's?
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
An Even More Inconvenient Truth
Disclaimer: if you don’t like to discuss where meat comes from, or if you simply “don’t want me throwing my veggie loving lifestyle in your face” then you might want to skip today’s blog!
Those who know me well know that I have been a successful vegetarian for about 8 years now. I have learned so much about vegetarianism, farming in the US, diet and health that my original reasons for becoming vegetarian (love for animals) still exists but has been complimented by many more reasons. So much so that my answer to the question “Why are you a vegetarian?” should politely be answered with “How much time do you have?”
Becoming Vegan will be an adjustment as I learn what I can and can not consume, and also as I miss certain items which I love (cheese, egg salad, mayonnaise.) However so far the biggest change for me is adjusting to calling myself “vegan” as opposed to “vegetarian,” a title I have held and adopted as a part of my self identity. This is consistent with my theory that while people always tell me that they are impressed with my diet and wonder how I can make such a sacrifice, in reality it is not that difficult. I will eat this, I won’t eat that. There are always appetizing alternatives.
Throughout my path to Veganism, I have been teased quite a bit based on my dietary choices, and it doesn’t bother me at all. “If God didn’t want us to eat meat, then why did He make it so tasty?” “Humans have been eating meat for thousands of years.” “It’s nature and natural selection for humans to eat ‘lesser beings’.” Perhaps if we still hunted, raised, killed our meat the way that we have for thousands of years, then I wouldn’t have a problem with it. I likely still wouldn’t eat it, but I wouldn’t be so disturbed by it. It is only in the last two generations that current attitudes toward animals and the Factory Farm have come into existence, and it is not a pretty change. The meat industry basically has the right to instill any practice that it deems necessary in order to produce meat cheaply and mass produce it.
I have long held the opinion that part of the origin behind our lack of respect for animals as well as our planet is based in Religion. We have, as a culture, developed a Human-centric ideology, whereby since we were supposedly crafted in the image of God, we are thus better than Animals (a category of which we are members) and also entitled to the earth and all of its inhabitants. I like to think of the cliché WWJD in this regard, how would Jesus have wanted us to treat animals? I seriously doubt he would be happy witnessing a downed cow dumped in a pit and left to die.
One argument I often hear is that chickens or cows are dumb (not the case) and thus it’s alright to eat them. Does intelligence even matter when it comes to pain and suffering? And if that is the argument then are dumb humans on the menu as well?
It is interesting to me that people are able to ignore morals when it comes to the animals they eat. Or at least ignore the situation from which the meat comes, which makes it easier to not consider those animals’ suffering and the applicable moral dilemma.
Daily I witness what seems almost a false concern for animals. Sadness over homeless dogs and cats, overcrowded shelters and oil drenched sea birds on TV is well founded, however what about the 99% of animals in our food source who are living in agony?
Few people have any idea what happens at Factory Farms. The issue isn’t only that they are killed inhumanely, which they are, but that they live their entire, insignificant lives in pain and discomfort. It amounts to torture and would be considered as such if it were a dog or cat not able to even turn around in its wire cage. Or what about health concerns? Cages upon cages stacked on top of each other with no flooring means that the chickens literally shit all over each other. Really healthy…
What do we expect to happen if we continue to exploit rather than respect our food sources? This could be our generation’s calling, our duty. It is not previous generations’ fault because as a country we have sought ways to mechanize production processes and increase output. Now it is time to put our ingenuity to better uses and find new ways to produce food. The Factory Farming process is a burden on the environment, bad for our health, and damaging to our reputation as an intelligent species on this planet.
Those who know me well know that I have been a successful vegetarian for about 8 years now. I have learned so much about vegetarianism, farming in the US, diet and health that my original reasons for becoming vegetarian (love for animals) still exists but has been complimented by many more reasons. So much so that my answer to the question “Why are you a vegetarian?” should politely be answered with “How much time do you have?”
Becoming Vegan will be an adjustment as I learn what I can and can not consume, and also as I miss certain items which I love (cheese, egg salad, mayonnaise.) However so far the biggest change for me is adjusting to calling myself “vegan” as opposed to “vegetarian,” a title I have held and adopted as a part of my self identity. This is consistent with my theory that while people always tell me that they are impressed with my diet and wonder how I can make such a sacrifice, in reality it is not that difficult. I will eat this, I won’t eat that. There are always appetizing alternatives.
Throughout my path to Veganism, I have been teased quite a bit based on my dietary choices, and it doesn’t bother me at all. “If God didn’t want us to eat meat, then why did He make it so tasty?” “Humans have been eating meat for thousands of years.” “It’s nature and natural selection for humans to eat ‘lesser beings’.” Perhaps if we still hunted, raised, killed our meat the way that we have for thousands of years, then I wouldn’t have a problem with it. I likely still wouldn’t eat it, but I wouldn’t be so disturbed by it. It is only in the last two generations that current attitudes toward animals and the Factory Farm have come into existence, and it is not a pretty change. The meat industry basically has the right to instill any practice that it deems necessary in order to produce meat cheaply and mass produce it.
I have long held the opinion that part of the origin behind our lack of respect for animals as well as our planet is based in Religion. We have, as a culture, developed a Human-centric ideology, whereby since we were supposedly crafted in the image of God, we are thus better than Animals (a category of which we are members) and also entitled to the earth and all of its inhabitants. I like to think of the cliché WWJD in this regard, how would Jesus have wanted us to treat animals? I seriously doubt he would be happy witnessing a downed cow dumped in a pit and left to die.
One argument I often hear is that chickens or cows are dumb (not the case) and thus it’s alright to eat them. Does intelligence even matter when it comes to pain and suffering? And if that is the argument then are dumb humans on the menu as well?
It is interesting to me that people are able to ignore morals when it comes to the animals they eat. Or at least ignore the situation from which the meat comes, which makes it easier to not consider those animals’ suffering and the applicable moral dilemma.
Daily I witness what seems almost a false concern for animals. Sadness over homeless dogs and cats, overcrowded shelters and oil drenched sea birds on TV is well founded, however what about the 99% of animals in our food source who are living in agony?
Few people have any idea what happens at Factory Farms. The issue isn’t only that they are killed inhumanely, which they are, but that they live their entire, insignificant lives in pain and discomfort. It amounts to torture and would be considered as such if it were a dog or cat not able to even turn around in its wire cage. Or what about health concerns? Cages upon cages stacked on top of each other with no flooring means that the chickens literally shit all over each other. Really healthy…
What do we expect to happen if we continue to exploit rather than respect our food sources? This could be our generation’s calling, our duty. It is not previous generations’ fault because as a country we have sought ways to mechanize production processes and increase output. Now it is time to put our ingenuity to better uses and find new ways to produce food. The Factory Farming process is a burden on the environment, bad for our health, and damaging to our reputation as an intelligent species on this planet.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Online Training
Sexual Harassment Training
I understand that we live in a litigious society full of internet hackers and douche bags who try to pick up coworkers, but online work trainings seem so pointless and wasteful. The one that I had to take today wasn’t even graded, but perhaps should have been, because I am pretty sure that if someone were to not pass this then they are too dumb to work here. Common sense apparently has to be spelled out in the form of trainings so that someone does not confuse their work computer with Hustler or post their password as their Facebook Status update.
In the spirit of online trainings I decided to create my own, enjoy:
1. Joe and Nancy are flirting in the cubicle next to you, they enjoy each other, but the situation is making Sally uncomfortable. Do you:
a.) tell your supervisor that you are working with whores.
b.) go ask them to have a threesome.
c.) tell Sally she is a huge p*ssy.
d.) screw your boss.
e.) all of the above
2. Your work place is on fire however you have sensitive client information on your computer screen and around your desk area. Do you:
a.) Run screaming through the halls and jump out of the nearest window.
b.) Safely shut down your computer, but only after changing your password and backing up all of the information to a flash drive, and shreding all sensitive information, all while your clothes begin to burn.
c.) Have sex with your coworker, you’re probably all going to die, anyway.
d.) Make fun of all of your coworkers of different ethnic backgrounds.
3. Frances, the IT guys smells like Alcohol and keeps emailing you pictures of his ass and tripping over paperclips. Do you:
a.) Post his ass pictures on Craig’s List along with Frances’ contact information in the “For Sale” section.
b.) Push Frances down the stairwell and blame Sally
c.) Pull out your boot flask and join Frances in the Boiler room for lunch time Happy Hour.
d.) First contact your manager however if your manager is not available then contact her manager along with the ethics hotline. If you receive a busy signal on the ethics hotline, however your manager also calls you back and asks what was wrong, you tell her nothing because you have already contacted the other manager. Unless that manager doesn’t answer, too and then you leave a message for Frances telling him that he needs to contact the Ethics hotline regarding himself.
e.) Quit
4. A socially awkward coworker asks you what your favorite color is. Do you:
a.) Tell him it is green.
b.) Tell him it is blue.
c.) Tell him that it is pink.
d.) Tell him that you are legally color blind.
e.) Refer him to the Code of Conduct section regarding color prejudices.
I understand that we live in a litigious society full of internet hackers and douche bags who try to pick up coworkers, but online work trainings seem so pointless and wasteful. The one that I had to take today wasn’t even graded, but perhaps should have been, because I am pretty sure that if someone were to not pass this then they are too dumb to work here. Common sense apparently has to be spelled out in the form of trainings so that someone does not confuse their work computer with Hustler or post their password as their Facebook Status update.
In the spirit of online trainings I decided to create my own, enjoy:
1. Joe and Nancy are flirting in the cubicle next to you, they enjoy each other, but the situation is making Sally uncomfortable. Do you:
a.) tell your supervisor that you are working with whores.
b.) go ask them to have a threesome.
c.) tell Sally she is a huge p*ssy.
d.) screw your boss.
e.) all of the above
2. Your work place is on fire however you have sensitive client information on your computer screen and around your desk area. Do you:
a.) Run screaming through the halls and jump out of the nearest window.
b.) Safely shut down your computer, but only after changing your password and backing up all of the information to a flash drive, and shreding all sensitive information, all while your clothes begin to burn.
c.) Have sex with your coworker, you’re probably all going to die, anyway.
d.) Make fun of all of your coworkers of different ethnic backgrounds.
3. Frances, the IT guys smells like Alcohol and keeps emailing you pictures of his ass and tripping over paperclips. Do you:
a.) Post his ass pictures on Craig’s List along with Frances’ contact information in the “For Sale” section.
b.) Push Frances down the stairwell and blame Sally
c.) Pull out your boot flask and join Frances in the Boiler room for lunch time Happy Hour.
d.) First contact your manager however if your manager is not available then contact her manager along with the ethics hotline. If you receive a busy signal on the ethics hotline, however your manager also calls you back and asks what was wrong, you tell her nothing because you have already contacted the other manager. Unless that manager doesn’t answer, too and then you leave a message for Frances telling him that he needs to contact the Ethics hotline regarding himself.
e.) Quit
4. A socially awkward coworker asks you what your favorite color is. Do you:
a.) Tell him it is green.
b.) Tell him it is blue.
c.) Tell him that it is pink.
d.) Tell him that you are legally color blind.
e.) Refer him to the Code of Conduct section regarding color prejudices.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Leave me alone when I'm reading...
Leave Me Alone While I Read
It seems that some people believe that when they see someone reading a book alone then that person must be sad and waiting for someone to initiate conversation. On the contrary, I actually enjoy reading! That is why I continue to buy these square things with pages in them off of Amazon, not because I confused them with the movie version. Or even when I am sitting alone thinking, pausing in my reading to stare at the grass and mull over recent events in my life, I wonder if people think that I am lonely. Sometimes I wish I could wear a sign on my head that says “Alone but not lonely.” Or maybe I will craft a fake book cover so that when someone wanders over to ask me what I am reading, I can hold it up and say “it’s called Leave Me Alone While I Read.” I know that people try to be friendly at work and perhaps they like to be interrupted while reading their US Weekly so that they can discuss Heidi Montag’s boob job. However I don’t enjoy being plucked out of New York, or Oz, or whatever setting I am enjoying in my book to talk about how it’s hot out. Yep, and it was hot yesterday, and probably some day in the future it will be hot, again. Neither the weather, your frozen lunch entrée, or the details of your out of work boyfriend’s night out last night, is as interesting as Lisbeth Salander’s life. So, unless you are already my friend, then I wish to continue reading, and the fact that I didn’t lift my eyes from the pages of my book to answer your question about the rain should have indicated that. Too bad it’s only my friends who read my blog but at least I had the opportunity to vent…
It seems that some people believe that when they see someone reading a book alone then that person must be sad and waiting for someone to initiate conversation. On the contrary, I actually enjoy reading! That is why I continue to buy these square things with pages in them off of Amazon, not because I confused them with the movie version. Or even when I am sitting alone thinking, pausing in my reading to stare at the grass and mull over recent events in my life, I wonder if people think that I am lonely. Sometimes I wish I could wear a sign on my head that says “Alone but not lonely.” Or maybe I will craft a fake book cover so that when someone wanders over to ask me what I am reading, I can hold it up and say “it’s called Leave Me Alone While I Read.” I know that people try to be friendly at work and perhaps they like to be interrupted while reading their US Weekly so that they can discuss Heidi Montag’s boob job. However I don’t enjoy being plucked out of New York, or Oz, or whatever setting I am enjoying in my book to talk about how it’s hot out. Yep, and it was hot yesterday, and probably some day in the future it will be hot, again. Neither the weather, your frozen lunch entrée, or the details of your out of work boyfriend’s night out last night, is as interesting as Lisbeth Salander’s life. So, unless you are already my friend, then I wish to continue reading, and the fact that I didn’t lift my eyes from the pages of my book to answer your question about the rain should have indicated that. Too bad it’s only my friends who read my blog but at least I had the opportunity to vent…
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Today
Today is the first day of the rest of my life, I can do anything that I want to do, and I promise myself that today is the last day I will cry over you...
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Frustrations in Admissions Chapter 3
Frustrations in Admissions
Chapter 3 – Hang Ups
As an admissions representative I get hung up on, on a daily basis. Today it happened when I was trying to secure an appointment for a prospective student to come in and visit the campus. “Does Kaplan sound like what you are looking for?” “Yes.” “The campus visit will accomplish A, B and C. Does that sound like something you would like to do?” “Yes.” “Awesome, what does your schedule look like…..” Click.
I don’t understand what the hang up accomplishes. As of now this prospective student has no concept of the amount of times I am willing to call him back, effectively harassing him to the point of questionable legality. So why not just tell me that he is not interested?
I will tell you why, he is concerned that as a sales person, I have some persuasive voodoo magic that will force him to sign papers, take out loans and sit in class like a zombie for 2 years. I must have that mutant ability (X-Men style) to control his very thoughts and actions, so he is going to quickly cutoff my mind control while he still has his own facilities. You know as in the old Sci-Fi classic “Attack of the Mind Altering Giant Admissions Representatives from Mars.”
The worst is the double hang up. Usually when I am hung up on mid-conversation then I will call right back to give myself the satisfaction of leaving a strongly worded voice mail suggesting that surely we were just disconnected and I would appreciate a call back. That’s when I sometimes get the pick up and hang up. Ahhh! You just denied me my revenge! Don’t worry though, I will call 125 more times to bother you until you can no longer take it and are reduced to singing Lady Gaga in fetal position in a corner: “Stop callin', stop callin', I don't wanna think anymore!” I would be surprised if most of these students end up running out of minutes on their crappy phone plan solely from listening to my voice mails.
Sometimes I will reach a prospective student who is so afraid of talking to me and my super powers that they will tell me that they are very busy at that time, and ask that I call back at another specific time. “Please call me back in 20 minutes.” Essentially so that they can note my phone number and not answer in 20 minutes, or ever again. Why not just tell me that they are not interested? “I am not interested” takes less time than arranging another call time!!
Again, I think that many times the prospective student wants to believe that they are going to go to school, wants to think that by requesting information that was all they have to do to feel better about not having started college, but they cant find it in themselves to take any further steps. It is therefore my job to use my super powers for good rather than evil, and try to find ways to motivate them. Suggestions will be noted from friends…
Chapter 3 – Hang Ups
As an admissions representative I get hung up on, on a daily basis. Today it happened when I was trying to secure an appointment for a prospective student to come in and visit the campus. “Does Kaplan sound like what you are looking for?” “Yes.” “The campus visit will accomplish A, B and C. Does that sound like something you would like to do?” “Yes.” “Awesome, what does your schedule look like…..” Click.
I don’t understand what the hang up accomplishes. As of now this prospective student has no concept of the amount of times I am willing to call him back, effectively harassing him to the point of questionable legality. So why not just tell me that he is not interested?
I will tell you why, he is concerned that as a sales person, I have some persuasive voodoo magic that will force him to sign papers, take out loans and sit in class like a zombie for 2 years. I must have that mutant ability (X-Men style) to control his very thoughts and actions, so he is going to quickly cutoff my mind control while he still has his own facilities. You know as in the old Sci-Fi classic “Attack of the Mind Altering Giant Admissions Representatives from Mars.”
The worst is the double hang up. Usually when I am hung up on mid-conversation then I will call right back to give myself the satisfaction of leaving a strongly worded voice mail suggesting that surely we were just disconnected and I would appreciate a call back. That’s when I sometimes get the pick up and hang up. Ahhh! You just denied me my revenge! Don’t worry though, I will call 125 more times to bother you until you can no longer take it and are reduced to singing Lady Gaga in fetal position in a corner: “Stop callin', stop callin', I don't wanna think anymore!” I would be surprised if most of these students end up running out of minutes on their crappy phone plan solely from listening to my voice mails.
Sometimes I will reach a prospective student who is so afraid of talking to me and my super powers that they will tell me that they are very busy at that time, and ask that I call back at another specific time. “Please call me back in 20 minutes.” Essentially so that they can note my phone number and not answer in 20 minutes, or ever again. Why not just tell me that they are not interested? “I am not interested” takes less time than arranging another call time!!
Again, I think that many times the prospective student wants to believe that they are going to go to school, wants to think that by requesting information that was all they have to do to feel better about not having started college, but they cant find it in themselves to take any further steps. It is therefore my job to use my super powers for good rather than evil, and try to find ways to motivate them. Suggestions will be noted from friends…
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Frustrations in Admissions
Frustrations in Admissions
Chapter 2 – “I can not make it to my appointment because….”
At ITT Tech we had started a running list of the most annoying excuses as to why prospective students could not make it in for their scheduled college visit.
The end-all be-all of excuses is “I had a family emergency.” Well as my good friend Nicole likes to say “no you didn’t.” But of course I can’t say that to the student so the next best thing is “oh, I am so sorry, what happened?” Silence – busted, you didn’t expect me to probe further!? You were thinking that you gave me the ultimate, most cleverly devised encrypted excuse. You expected me to throw up my hands in embarrassment that I even called you to find out why you no-showed me for the third time this week, and that I should bow down in apology, never to bother you with another phone call. Usually all the students come up with is “it’s personal” so I am left to invent possible scenarios of family emergencies that could have arisen and rendered the person unable to come invest one hour in their future. Family car squashed by dinosaur, so didn’t have transportation – naw, I would have seen that on the news. Discovered family tree has links to Hitler and so had to stay home and debate attending school with ethnic minorities – too simple an explanation. Most likely daughter stubbed toe, perfect excuse not to go in for my college visit, or Family Feud was on TV and was too exciting to consider leaving the couch.
Kira had a student who scheduled an appointment and when he proceeded to no-show she followed up with him efficiently. Upon finally reaching him he had a tragic story to tell. Remember the little boy on the news who was shot and killed downtown by a stray bullet? That was this student’s own brother! Kira, being the kind hearted person she is, expressed much concern, as did we all when we heard the sad tale. However, as Kira will also tell you, she “was born at night but it wasn’t last night,” so she proceeded to do some investigative work. Turns out the poor boy didn’t have any siblings. Lying about a dead relative, people do this every day, but a dead kid who has a real family who is actually grieving his death? That is a new low. Of course we had to call him out on it so he hung up on Kira when she tried to lecture him. The first of many lectures, classroom or otherwise, that he avoided by skipping out on his college education.
Rain, snow, wind, hunger, fights, pain, cousin’s friend had a baby, I have heard them all. Many times out of frustration with their own inability to make it in to the school they will demand that they be admitted to college without making a visit first. Really? How do you expect to succeed in college if you can’t even get off your butt to come find the place first? One guy did not have bus fare and didn’t want to walk (three blocks) in the cold so he spent 10 minutes arguing that I should come to his house to tell him about the programs. First of all, we don’t do that, second of all I do not look forward to being locked in your basement for 3 days.
I try to give these people the benefit of the doubt. I do realize that they are likely frustrated with their own inability to change their lives, and so they truly do believe that they will show up for that appointment that I scheduled with them. When they don’t move forward with it, whether the real reason is fear, laziness, apprehension, it is simply easier to make up an excuse. I just wish they would be more creative. Your dad turned into the Hulk, stole your car and rammed it into a fire hydrant which flooded the street and consequently every pair of shoes you own was washed away, rendering you unable to walk here? Now that is a good excuse
Chapter 2 – “I can not make it to my appointment because….”
At ITT Tech we had started a running list of the most annoying excuses as to why prospective students could not make it in for their scheduled college visit.
The end-all be-all of excuses is “I had a family emergency.” Well as my good friend Nicole likes to say “no you didn’t.” But of course I can’t say that to the student so the next best thing is “oh, I am so sorry, what happened?” Silence – busted, you didn’t expect me to probe further!? You were thinking that you gave me the ultimate, most cleverly devised encrypted excuse. You expected me to throw up my hands in embarrassment that I even called you to find out why you no-showed me for the third time this week, and that I should bow down in apology, never to bother you with another phone call. Usually all the students come up with is “it’s personal” so I am left to invent possible scenarios of family emergencies that could have arisen and rendered the person unable to come invest one hour in their future. Family car squashed by dinosaur, so didn’t have transportation – naw, I would have seen that on the news. Discovered family tree has links to Hitler and so had to stay home and debate attending school with ethnic minorities – too simple an explanation. Most likely daughter stubbed toe, perfect excuse not to go in for my college visit, or Family Feud was on TV and was too exciting to consider leaving the couch.
Kira had a student who scheduled an appointment and when he proceeded to no-show she followed up with him efficiently. Upon finally reaching him he had a tragic story to tell. Remember the little boy on the news who was shot and killed downtown by a stray bullet? That was this student’s own brother! Kira, being the kind hearted person she is, expressed much concern, as did we all when we heard the sad tale. However, as Kira will also tell you, she “was born at night but it wasn’t last night,” so she proceeded to do some investigative work. Turns out the poor boy didn’t have any siblings. Lying about a dead relative, people do this every day, but a dead kid who has a real family who is actually grieving his death? That is a new low. Of course we had to call him out on it so he hung up on Kira when she tried to lecture him. The first of many lectures, classroom or otherwise, that he avoided by skipping out on his college education.
Rain, snow, wind, hunger, fights, pain, cousin’s friend had a baby, I have heard them all. Many times out of frustration with their own inability to make it in to the school they will demand that they be admitted to college without making a visit first. Really? How do you expect to succeed in college if you can’t even get off your butt to come find the place first? One guy did not have bus fare and didn’t want to walk (three blocks) in the cold so he spent 10 minutes arguing that I should come to his house to tell him about the programs. First of all, we don’t do that, second of all I do not look forward to being locked in your basement for 3 days.
I try to give these people the benefit of the doubt. I do realize that they are likely frustrated with their own inability to change their lives, and so they truly do believe that they will show up for that appointment that I scheduled with them. When they don’t move forward with it, whether the real reason is fear, laziness, apprehension, it is simply easier to make up an excuse. I just wish they would be more creative. Your dad turned into the Hulk, stole your car and rammed it into a fire hydrant which flooded the street and consequently every pair of shoes you own was washed away, rendering you unable to walk here? Now that is a good excuse
Friday, May 7, 2010
Celebrities
I used to be able to easliy appease my jealous feelings towards celebrities and their wealth by reminding myself that most celebrities have issues of their own and numerous failed relationships. I, on the other hand, had a wonderful, lasting relationship which made me happy every day.
...Now I wish I was a celebrity again.
...Now I wish I was a celebrity again.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Frustrations in Admissions - Chapter 1
Frustrations in Admissions
Chapter 1 – “Send me a brochure”
I have entitled this piece “Chapter 1” because I am confident that I will come across sufficient material over my remaining time in admissions to warrant additional chapters.
The whole point of the admissions phone call is to convince prospective students to come in for a college visit where we sell them the benefits of the college education. This has been engrained in my subconscious, however I do recognize the usefulness of the visit beyond the necessity in closing the sale.
Frequently I will encounter a prospective student who is immune to my questioning strategies, answering with one word answers. “Why don’t I use open ended questions,” the experienced sales person might ask? Oh, but I do!
“What has you interested in Medical Assisting?”
“I like it.”
“What do you like about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are you looking for in a college?”
“The best.”
“What would make a college the best?”
“I don’t know.”
Trying to close these friendly folks down to an appointment is like trying to get my dog to stop nudging me with her tennis ball. Its not going to happen and we both end up frustrated. So inevitably the prospective student is going to ask for a brochure.
Why did you even waste your time calling in or signing up for information if you are going to request a brochure? What could a brochure possibly tell you about a school that you don’t know already? It will contain a brief overview of the program and a picture of a smiling student wearing their backpack in a sunny courtyard. Yeah, that fake student is a model and doesn’t go here, and I might as well send you a piece of toilet paper with my business card stapled to it. At least that might spark some curiosity and show that we have well stocked bathrooms.
Do you know the likelihood of a student who requests a brochure actually starting school? As likely as me actually sending toilet paper to a student in the mail. I will call that student in a week to see if they got the bath tissue, I mean brochure and will either
a.) call and call until someone finally answers and tells me to stop calling; or b.) they will tell me that they are still looking over the information and will get back to me.
Still looking over it? It is a one page brochure with less information than the back of a shampoo bottle. If you still haven’t finished reading it then I really doubt that you would be able to find your way to our school, much less pass our assessment test!
But I will politely tell them thank you and I will look forward to hearing from them. In reality I will look forward to hearing from their answering machine and crappy ring back tone, but that could take us into chapter 2. To be continued….
Chapter 1 – “Send me a brochure”
I have entitled this piece “Chapter 1” because I am confident that I will come across sufficient material over my remaining time in admissions to warrant additional chapters.
The whole point of the admissions phone call is to convince prospective students to come in for a college visit where we sell them the benefits of the college education. This has been engrained in my subconscious, however I do recognize the usefulness of the visit beyond the necessity in closing the sale.
Frequently I will encounter a prospective student who is immune to my questioning strategies, answering with one word answers. “Why don’t I use open ended questions,” the experienced sales person might ask? Oh, but I do!
“What has you interested in Medical Assisting?”
“I like it.”
“What do you like about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are you looking for in a college?”
“The best.”
“What would make a college the best?”
“I don’t know.”
Trying to close these friendly folks down to an appointment is like trying to get my dog to stop nudging me with her tennis ball. Its not going to happen and we both end up frustrated. So inevitably the prospective student is going to ask for a brochure.
Why did you even waste your time calling in or signing up for information if you are going to request a brochure? What could a brochure possibly tell you about a school that you don’t know already? It will contain a brief overview of the program and a picture of a smiling student wearing their backpack in a sunny courtyard. Yeah, that fake student is a model and doesn’t go here, and I might as well send you a piece of toilet paper with my business card stapled to it. At least that might spark some curiosity and show that we have well stocked bathrooms.
Do you know the likelihood of a student who requests a brochure actually starting school? As likely as me actually sending toilet paper to a student in the mail. I will call that student in a week to see if they got the bath tissue, I mean brochure and will either
a.) call and call until someone finally answers and tells me to stop calling; or b.) they will tell me that they are still looking over the information and will get back to me.
Still looking over it? It is a one page brochure with less information than the back of a shampoo bottle. If you still haven’t finished reading it then I really doubt that you would be able to find your way to our school, much less pass our assessment test!
But I will politely tell them thank you and I will look forward to hearing from them. In reality I will look forward to hearing from their answering machine and crappy ring back tone, but that could take us into chapter 2. To be continued….
Sugarland said it best...
i can't take it any longer
but my will is getting stronger
and i think i know just what i have to do
i can't waste another minute
after all that i've put in it
i've given you my best why does she get the best of you
so the next time you find
you wanna leave her bed for mine
why dont you stay
im up off my knees
im so tired of being lonely
you cant give me what i need
when she begs you not to go
there is one thing you should know
i dont have to live this way
baby why dont you stay
but my will is getting stronger
and i think i know just what i have to do
i can't waste another minute
after all that i've put in it
i've given you my best why does she get the best of you
so the next time you find
you wanna leave her bed for mine
why dont you stay
im up off my knees
im so tired of being lonely
you cant give me what i need
when she begs you not to go
there is one thing you should know
i dont have to live this way
baby why dont you stay
Monday, May 3, 2010
Meet The Londons
Meet the London’s
At the conclusion of another emotional day I caught the end of “Meet the Robinson’s” last night. An often overlooked however excellent Disney movie, I wondered once again why I don’t own the DVD. I know, you are probably shocked that there is ANYTHING Disney that I don’t own, but there are a few!
The story is that of a young orphan genius named Lewis, who is brought forward via time machine to his adulthood so that he can help his future son and family out of a dangerous situation. I am not sure why this movie was not as big of a hit as some of the other animated features. Perhaps its plot is a little confusing for children, but it never fails to make me laugh throughout and then cry in the ending. (I swear I don’t cry in every Disney movie every time, just some of them, so no poking fun, Paul!)
Apparently at some point in Future Lewis’ distinguished career, he invented a robot helper top-hat, which is too intelligent and escapes to wreak havoc. Throughout his journey to remedy this problem, Lewis frequently gets frustrated by mistakes or setbacks, but his son reminds him of Adult Lewis’ own motto “Keep Moving Forward.” It turns out that Lewis’ eclectic and eccentric family is comprised of people he has met throughout his life who were positive additions so he kept them close. The family who lives in his mansion is made up of his parents, crazy uncle, his frog-training wife, kids and many others who needed a place to fit in, but also encourage Lewis in his pursuits.
In our lives we meet thousands of people and call many people friends, but sometimes friends become our family. Whether they are people who we eventually marry so they join our family officially, or they are simply the friend whose shoulder we cry on and whose hand we grasp to keep from crumbling into despair, those people are our family. Those friends in whose eyes I see genuine concern and interest in my happiness are part of a larger family for me, and I pray that I am there for them the way that they need me to be. Not only was I blessed with an amazing biological family full of individuals who love me and tell me so every day, I also have the circle of friends who envelop me with additional support. They ensure that whatever happens in my life, I will never be alone.
Just as Lewis eventually chose people who would support him and provide a home full of positive energy and encouragement, I believe it is best for me to try to do the same. Other people’s negative energy and feelings can bring us down, and they are not people who we should be spending our valuable time with. Even at work we have a choice as to who we spend time with and allow into our lives on a deeper level.
Lewis eventually comes to realize that his young self needs to focus on the good in his life rather than the negative, and “Keep Moving Forward” into the future because he will make his own family and his own happiness.
The movie ends with a song and then a quote from Walt Disney himself.
let it go,
let it roll right off your shoulder
don't you know,
the hardest part is over
let it in,
let your clarity define you
in the end
we will only just remember how it feels
our lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but these small hours,
these small hours still remain
let it slide,
let your troubles fall behind you
let it shine
until you feel it all around you
and I don't mind
if it's me you need to turn to
we’ll get by,
it's the heart that really matters in the end
our lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but these small hours,
these small hours still remain
all of my regret
will wash away some how
but I can not forget
the way I feel right now
in these small hours
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away but these small hours
these small hours, still remain,
still remain
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away
but these small hours
these little wonders still remain
“Around here, however, we don't look backwards for very long.
We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things, because we're curious.....And curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”
-Walt Disney
At the conclusion of another emotional day I caught the end of “Meet the Robinson’s” last night. An often overlooked however excellent Disney movie, I wondered once again why I don’t own the DVD. I know, you are probably shocked that there is ANYTHING Disney that I don’t own, but there are a few!
The story is that of a young orphan genius named Lewis, who is brought forward via time machine to his adulthood so that he can help his future son and family out of a dangerous situation. I am not sure why this movie was not as big of a hit as some of the other animated features. Perhaps its plot is a little confusing for children, but it never fails to make me laugh throughout and then cry in the ending. (I swear I don’t cry in every Disney movie every time, just some of them, so no poking fun, Paul!)
Apparently at some point in Future Lewis’ distinguished career, he invented a robot helper top-hat, which is too intelligent and escapes to wreak havoc. Throughout his journey to remedy this problem, Lewis frequently gets frustrated by mistakes or setbacks, but his son reminds him of Adult Lewis’ own motto “Keep Moving Forward.” It turns out that Lewis’ eclectic and eccentric family is comprised of people he has met throughout his life who were positive additions so he kept them close. The family who lives in his mansion is made up of his parents, crazy uncle, his frog-training wife, kids and many others who needed a place to fit in, but also encourage Lewis in his pursuits.
In our lives we meet thousands of people and call many people friends, but sometimes friends become our family. Whether they are people who we eventually marry so they join our family officially, or they are simply the friend whose shoulder we cry on and whose hand we grasp to keep from crumbling into despair, those people are our family. Those friends in whose eyes I see genuine concern and interest in my happiness are part of a larger family for me, and I pray that I am there for them the way that they need me to be. Not only was I blessed with an amazing biological family full of individuals who love me and tell me so every day, I also have the circle of friends who envelop me with additional support. They ensure that whatever happens in my life, I will never be alone.
Just as Lewis eventually chose people who would support him and provide a home full of positive energy and encouragement, I believe it is best for me to try to do the same. Other people’s negative energy and feelings can bring us down, and they are not people who we should be spending our valuable time with. Even at work we have a choice as to who we spend time with and allow into our lives on a deeper level.
Lewis eventually comes to realize that his young self needs to focus on the good in his life rather than the negative, and “Keep Moving Forward” into the future because he will make his own family and his own happiness.
The movie ends with a song and then a quote from Walt Disney himself.
let it go,
let it roll right off your shoulder
don't you know,
the hardest part is over
let it in,
let your clarity define you
in the end
we will only just remember how it feels
our lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but these small hours,
these small hours still remain
let it slide,
let your troubles fall behind you
let it shine
until you feel it all around you
and I don't mind
if it's me you need to turn to
we’ll get by,
it's the heart that really matters in the end
our lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but these small hours,
these small hours still remain
all of my regret
will wash away some how
but I can not forget
the way I feel right now
in these small hours
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away but these small hours
these small hours, still remain,
still remain
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away
but these small hours
these little wonders still remain
“Around here, however, we don't look backwards for very long.
We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things, because we're curious.....And curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”
-Walt Disney
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Injuries
At this point, it goes way beyond “accident prone.” After my latest injury (assuming I snapped the muscle in my right calf,) I have come to a new conclusion. Weird stuff happens to me.
This goes way beyond clumsiness, since it is not just strange injuries, but health issues as well. The most ironic thing about it is that I am so cautious and I don’t have an adventurous/athletic bone in my body. Just watch videos of our childhood vacations for proof. Climbing on rock formations, a frightened young Ann scoots on her butt up the rocks one by one, while Meg (6 years younger) charges forward yelling back at me to hurry the heck up. I will point to those same videos for documented proof of one of my random injuries in the corn fields of Iowa where I sprained my ankle just standing around (no, you can not see the video, it’s incredibly embarrassing.) Sure, I played Field Hockey, but I sat on the bench most of the time because I was scared of the other players, and because I usually had sprained ankles.
As far as I can remember things started when I was little, when I broke my wrist falling out of a wagon – yes a wagon, the little boxes on wheels that are only 6 inches off the ground. My mom obviously thought it unlikely, too, because she didn’t take me to the hospital for three days. I also started having chronic UTI infections, yielding multiple antibiotics and trips to the hospital when I was very young. Through testing in college I would come to find that the culprit is that I have a humongous bladder and a teeny urethra, which is the perfect storm for UTI’s, fun stuff. At age 12 I had possibly the worst case of Chicken Pox in history. Seriously, my friend who also had them at the same time came over to visit and she was visibly scared of me. You couldn’t touch a place on my face where there was not a pock – I looked like and felt like an ogre. No, actually Shreck was hotter than me.
Had some stitches and I will make that short. Paul angered me so I jumped in the air, hit head on cabinet and bled all the way downstairs to find my mom. Also smashed my giant chin onto side of pool when I lifted myself up on the side to try to shoot down as quickly as possible to the bottom of the deep end. Busted chin, freaked out life guard.
In Middle School, as if braces and a self inflicted hideous perm were not enough, I also caught lice at Summer Camp. Lice that had to be cut individually out of my hair by my mom because my hair was “too fine” to catch the eggs with that little lice comb. Mom and I were up for about 4 hours one night sitting in the floor of my room, proving once again that a Mom will do just about anything for her child. This reminds me that Mom needs an extra big Mother’s day gift this year because I never properly thanked her for that 4 hours of agony she endured so that I could go back to school without bugs in my hair.
Middle School also brought the fated campout in Erin Tracey’s back yard, during which we “snuck out” to meet boys and hide from the useless Anchorage cops. Hiding from cops means that you squat in people’s bushes, bushes that contain poison ivy from which my Umbro’s provided me little defense. What does poison ivy on your butt and thighs look/feel like? You don’t even want to know. It got me out of gym for a week or so, though, so maybe I avoided another ankle sprain and getting nailed in the face with a dodgeball or two.
High school can be summed up in two words. Ankle Sprains. Field Hockey coach hated Ballet instructor, and vice versa because they each blamed the other on my weak ankles. I blame running the cross country course – hated that more than ankle sprains (perhaps subconsciously…..?)
In college I busted my head open on the bunk bed in my dorm room and needed stitches. Of course my biggest concern, other than that I felt my brain bounce off my skull when my head hit, was that they were going to have to shave my hair for the stitches. The nurse had mercy on me and worked around my hair so that I didn’t have to be bald for my next date party. Phew. At UK I also broke my foot coming out of Atomic Café, falling off the side of my shoe because I missed a step. Ok, so it was technically a “break in the pavement.” Whatever, I still broke the damn foot and had to be carried into my apartment by Lindsay’s boyfriend who was sweet enough not to laugh when I broke into hysterical crying as soon as the boys I didn’t know got out of the cab.
More recently I cut my hand, and in the process nicked the tendon, near my left thumb. I was cooking, but don’t jump to conclusions, it wasn’t a knife. I decided to try to fit more trash in the can, so pushed the contents down with my hand, thereby slashing myself with the lid of an opened tin can. Nice. I ran around screaming and bleeding and Samantha dashed around my feet freaking out while I talked to the 911 operator. Hospital visit and hand surgeon consultation resulted.
After this newest injury which resulted from a simple jog up a couple of stairs, I have concluded that I am either being punished for something, or I have just experienced all of my injuries and illnesses in my first half of life and from now on I will have a peaceful existence.
And though I know you are still thinking about it, you absolutely may NOT see that video from Iowa. It is highly classified.
At this point, it goes way beyond “accident prone.” After my latest injury (assuming I snapped the muscle in my right calf,) I have come to a new conclusion. Weird stuff happens to me.
This goes way beyond clumsiness, since it is not just strange injuries, but health issues as well. The most ironic thing about it is that I am so cautious and I don’t have an adventurous/athletic bone in my body. Just watch videos of our childhood vacations for proof. Climbing on rock formations, a frightened young Ann scoots on her butt up the rocks one by one, while Meg (6 years younger) charges forward yelling back at me to hurry the heck up. I will point to those same videos for documented proof of one of my random injuries in the corn fields of Iowa where I sprained my ankle just standing around (no, you can not see the video, it’s incredibly embarrassing.) Sure, I played Field Hockey, but I sat on the bench most of the time because I was scared of the other players, and because I usually had sprained ankles.
As far as I can remember things started when I was little, when I broke my wrist falling out of a wagon – yes a wagon, the little boxes on wheels that are only 6 inches off the ground. My mom obviously thought it unlikely, too, because she didn’t take me to the hospital for three days. I also started having chronic UTI infections, yielding multiple antibiotics and trips to the hospital when I was very young. Through testing in college I would come to find that the culprit is that I have a humongous bladder and a teeny urethra, which is the perfect storm for UTI’s, fun stuff. At age 12 I had possibly the worst case of Chicken Pox in history. Seriously, my friend who also had them at the same time came over to visit and she was visibly scared of me. You couldn’t touch a place on my face where there was not a pock – I looked like and felt like an ogre. No, actually Shreck was hotter than me.
Had some stitches and I will make that short. Paul angered me so I jumped in the air, hit head on cabinet and bled all the way downstairs to find my mom. Also smashed my giant chin onto side of pool when I lifted myself up on the side to try to shoot down as quickly as possible to the bottom of the deep end. Busted chin, freaked out life guard.
In Middle School, as if braces and a self inflicted hideous perm were not enough, I also caught lice at Summer Camp. Lice that had to be cut individually out of my hair by my mom because my hair was “too fine” to catch the eggs with that little lice comb. Mom and I were up for about 4 hours one night sitting in the floor of my room, proving once again that a Mom will do just about anything for her child. This reminds me that Mom needs an extra big Mother’s day gift this year because I never properly thanked her for that 4 hours of agony she endured so that I could go back to school without bugs in my hair.
Middle School also brought the fated campout in Erin Tracey’s back yard, during which we “snuck out” to meet boys and hide from the useless Anchorage cops. Hiding from cops means that you squat in people’s bushes, bushes that contain poison ivy from which my Umbro’s provided me little defense. What does poison ivy on your butt and thighs look/feel like? You don’t even want to know. It got me out of gym for a week or so, though, so maybe I avoided another ankle sprain and getting nailed in the face with a dodgeball or two.
High school can be summed up in two words. Ankle Sprains. Field Hockey coach hated Ballet instructor, and vice versa because they each blamed the other on my weak ankles. I blame running the cross country course – hated that more than ankle sprains (perhaps subconsciously…..?)
In college I busted my head open on the bunk bed in my dorm room and needed stitches. Of course my biggest concern, other than that I felt my brain bounce off my skull when my head hit, was that they were going to have to shave my hair for the stitches. The nurse had mercy on me and worked around my hair so that I didn’t have to be bald for my next date party. Phew. At UK I also broke my foot coming out of Atomic Café, falling off the side of my shoe because I missed a step. Ok, so it was technically a “break in the pavement.” Whatever, I still broke the damn foot and had to be carried into my apartment by Lindsay’s boyfriend who was sweet enough not to laugh when I broke into hysterical crying as soon as the boys I didn’t know got out of the cab.
More recently I cut my hand, and in the process nicked the tendon, near my left thumb. I was cooking, but don’t jump to conclusions, it wasn’t a knife. I decided to try to fit more trash in the can, so pushed the contents down with my hand, thereby slashing myself with the lid of an opened tin can. Nice. I ran around screaming and bleeding and Samantha dashed around my feet freaking out while I talked to the 911 operator. Hospital visit and hand surgeon consultation resulted.
After this newest injury which resulted from a simple jog up a couple of stairs, I have concluded that I am either being punished for something, or I have just experienced all of my injuries and illnesses in my first half of life and from now on I will have a peaceful existence.
And though I know you are still thinking about it, you absolutely may NOT see that video from Iowa. It is highly classified.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Facebook Attack on the President
Recent “hilarious” copy and paste recurring Facebook Status:
DEAR LORD, THIS YEAR YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTOR, PATRICK SWAYZE. YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTRESS, FARAH FAWCETT. YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE SINGER, MICHAEL JACKSON. I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW, MY FAVORITE PRESIDENT IS BARACK OBAMA. AMEN
Really?
I mean first of all, we all know that Patrick Swayze is not your favorite actor. Yes, we all enjoyed Ghost, who doesn’t love a sweet ghost trying to avenge his death and save his fiancé from an evil banker? And I don’t know a woman who doesn’t get all tingly at the sight of gigolo Johnnie wooing a virgin teenager named “Baby” in our all time favorite dancing movie. However, brave battle with cancer or not, he is NOT your favorite actor, so I call your bluff.
Secondly, and most importantly, did you really just state in front of God and Facebook users that you wish the President of the United States were dead? I mean that is what you are saying in your not so cleverly sarcastic way. God gets your sarcasm, I mean, he is God after all, and I doubt he thinks it’s funny.
In my darkest hours during the Bush administration, and there were many, I never at any point wished him dead. Impeached? Maybe. Lost in the wilderness for a while and rendered unable to perform his duties as President? Perhaps. But never dead. He is a father, a husband, a son, a human. And whatever our differences, I am sure that he was trying to do his job and make the best decisions that he deemed necessary.
So for your lies and your insult to the President of the United States, may God and Patrick Swayze have mercy on your soul.
Amen.
DEAR LORD, THIS YEAR YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTOR, PATRICK SWAYZE. YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTRESS, FARAH FAWCETT. YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE SINGER, MICHAEL JACKSON. I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW, MY FAVORITE PRESIDENT IS BARACK OBAMA. AMEN
Really?
I mean first of all, we all know that Patrick Swayze is not your favorite actor. Yes, we all enjoyed Ghost, who doesn’t love a sweet ghost trying to avenge his death and save his fiancé from an evil banker? And I don’t know a woman who doesn’t get all tingly at the sight of gigolo Johnnie wooing a virgin teenager named “Baby” in our all time favorite dancing movie. However, brave battle with cancer or not, he is NOT your favorite actor, so I call your bluff.
Secondly, and most importantly, did you really just state in front of God and Facebook users that you wish the President of the United States were dead? I mean that is what you are saying in your not so cleverly sarcastic way. God gets your sarcasm, I mean, he is God after all, and I doubt he thinks it’s funny.
In my darkest hours during the Bush administration, and there were many, I never at any point wished him dead. Impeached? Maybe. Lost in the wilderness for a while and rendered unable to perform his duties as President? Perhaps. But never dead. He is a father, a husband, a son, a human. And whatever our differences, I am sure that he was trying to do his job and make the best decisions that he deemed necessary.
So for your lies and your insult to the President of the United States, may God and Patrick Swayze have mercy on your soul.
Amen.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Why do bees chase people when people are obviously much larger?
A Study by Ann London
Few things strike as much fear into my heart as seeing a bee or wasp floating aimlessly through my peripheral vision. The way those bastards fly around, it’s like a tornado…which direction will the venom filled flying fuzzball take next? But why the fear? As humans we are much larger than they are, we have more control of our movements, we are stronger, smarter. “They are more scared of you than you are of them” my teacher would always say as I ran from them, arms flailing, on the playground. But in my opinion, that is bull shit. For something so small, a bee’s sting hurts, and a wasp, don’t get me started. I would rather have a doctor inject me with a shot of acid. Those little monsters know that I am scared, they enjoy it, and that is my theory as I embark on my journey to answer the question proposed in the title of this essay.
Now, I am fairly certain that I would have studied bees and hive behavior at some point in my schooling, but whether it was in High School (I would have been writing notes to friends) or College (same story except blatantly talking to them in those giant lecture classes,) the knowledge didn’t stick.
According to Wikipedia, “Bees are flying insects closely related to wasps and ants, and are known for their role in pollination and for producing honey and beeswax”….blah, blah, blah. Everyone knows that. What I was most interested to read in their analysis was “there are nearly 20,000 known species of bees in seven to nine recognized families.” What? Where are all those little nasty beasts hiding out? I am going to have to buy a bee keeper’s suit and also a smoke kettle to sit by me at the pool (because I can’t let that suit ruin my sun tan.)
In support of my theory, I read about a bee in New Zealand, which has figured out a way to open a spring loaded flower to reach the nectar. This flower typically is only opened by birds, however the bees have been observed “biting the top off the buds, then pushing with their legs, occasionally popping open the buds to allow the bees to harvest the nectar and pollen.” Seriously, bees are smart, and clearly have opposable thumbs if they can work all that out.
Apparently Bees’ ancestors were Crabronidae, no not a sexually transmitted holiday, but a type of insect which eats other insects. So, one could conclude that when bees chase us they are really trying to eat us, but I won’t go there…
According to my research, most native bees in North America do not “chase” people, they simply might be attracted to a perfume or brightly colored clothing. So to avoid them I guess I will have to contact my uncle to borrow hunting gear such as camouflage and/or deer piss to wear instead of my perfume. They rarely attack and only if directly threatened. (See they know the difference so they are smart little buggers.) However, Africanized bees, which have been introduced to North America by mistake from labs (when I find the scientists responsible I will paint their lab coats with pollen and stick them in a field of wild flowers) are much more aggressive. These “Killer Bees” are highly defensive of their hive, and will attack after even a very small perceived threat and with little notice. Regular “European Bees” take 30 seconds before they would consider attacking to protect their colony. Killer bees don’t take time to think about it, they just jump you.
There are some precautions about these gangster bees that I have found common in my research:
If you encounter Africanized honey bees:
• Run away as quickly as possible. Protect your head, especially your eyes and mouth. Africanized bees will chase for up to a quarter of a mile.
• Get inside a secure, enclosed structure, such as a car or building, before attempting to remove any stingers. A chemical called an "alarm pheromone" is released when bees sting. It draws more bees to the victim.
• Do not attempt to fool the bees by hiding or "playing dead" if you are stung. The bees will continue to sting you.
• Do not jump into water, such as a swimming pool. Africanized bees will wait for a victim to surface.
• If you are with someone who cannot run away from the bees, cover them with a blanket, tarp, or other material. This will not prevent bees already on the victim from stinging, but it could prevent additional injury. Do not stay with the victim -- the bees will turn their attention to you. Run for help.
• Do not throw rocks or other objects at a hive.
Ok, on that last one, if you throw a rock at them then you deserve to be stung, dumb ass. But on the rest of those…so you are telling me that there is really nothing I can do once these suckers are after me? We all know I can’t run so I would be the person under the tarp left for dead.
I will concede that there is no firm evidence that bees bother me simply to see the fear in my eyes, however they definitely suck more than I already thought they did. The other day I was headed to work, smiling as the spring sun kissed my cheeks. A golf ball sized bee buzzed out of the bush by my driveway and tried to zoom towards my car to get in with me. Even if I have disproven my theory about these creatures, I still maintain that I heard him laugh as my terror forced me to collapse in the seat and slam the door in his furry little face.
Few things strike as much fear into my heart as seeing a bee or wasp floating aimlessly through my peripheral vision. The way those bastards fly around, it’s like a tornado…which direction will the venom filled flying fuzzball take next? But why the fear? As humans we are much larger than they are, we have more control of our movements, we are stronger, smarter. “They are more scared of you than you are of them” my teacher would always say as I ran from them, arms flailing, on the playground. But in my opinion, that is bull shit. For something so small, a bee’s sting hurts, and a wasp, don’t get me started. I would rather have a doctor inject me with a shot of acid. Those little monsters know that I am scared, they enjoy it, and that is my theory as I embark on my journey to answer the question proposed in the title of this essay.
Now, I am fairly certain that I would have studied bees and hive behavior at some point in my schooling, but whether it was in High School (I would have been writing notes to friends) or College (same story except blatantly talking to them in those giant lecture classes,) the knowledge didn’t stick.
According to Wikipedia, “Bees are flying insects closely related to wasps and ants, and are known for their role in pollination and for producing honey and beeswax”….blah, blah, blah. Everyone knows that. What I was most interested to read in their analysis was “there are nearly 20,000 known species of bees in seven to nine recognized families.” What? Where are all those little nasty beasts hiding out? I am going to have to buy a bee keeper’s suit and also a smoke kettle to sit by me at the pool (because I can’t let that suit ruin my sun tan.)
In support of my theory, I read about a bee in New Zealand, which has figured out a way to open a spring loaded flower to reach the nectar. This flower typically is only opened by birds, however the bees have been observed “biting the top off the buds, then pushing with their legs, occasionally popping open the buds to allow the bees to harvest the nectar and pollen.” Seriously, bees are smart, and clearly have opposable thumbs if they can work all that out.
Apparently Bees’ ancestors were Crabronidae, no not a sexually transmitted holiday, but a type of insect which eats other insects. So, one could conclude that when bees chase us they are really trying to eat us, but I won’t go there…
According to my research, most native bees in North America do not “chase” people, they simply might be attracted to a perfume or brightly colored clothing. So to avoid them I guess I will have to contact my uncle to borrow hunting gear such as camouflage and/or deer piss to wear instead of my perfume. They rarely attack and only if directly threatened. (See they know the difference so they are smart little buggers.) However, Africanized bees, which have been introduced to North America by mistake from labs (when I find the scientists responsible I will paint their lab coats with pollen and stick them in a field of wild flowers) are much more aggressive. These “Killer Bees” are highly defensive of their hive, and will attack after even a very small perceived threat and with little notice. Regular “European Bees” take 30 seconds before they would consider attacking to protect their colony. Killer bees don’t take time to think about it, they just jump you.
There are some precautions about these gangster bees that I have found common in my research:
If you encounter Africanized honey bees:
• Run away as quickly as possible. Protect your head, especially your eyes and mouth. Africanized bees will chase for up to a quarter of a mile.
• Get inside a secure, enclosed structure, such as a car or building, before attempting to remove any stingers. A chemical called an "alarm pheromone" is released when bees sting. It draws more bees to the victim.
• Do not attempt to fool the bees by hiding or "playing dead" if you are stung. The bees will continue to sting you.
• Do not jump into water, such as a swimming pool. Africanized bees will wait for a victim to surface.
• If you are with someone who cannot run away from the bees, cover them with a blanket, tarp, or other material. This will not prevent bees already on the victim from stinging, but it could prevent additional injury. Do not stay with the victim -- the bees will turn their attention to you. Run for help.
• Do not throw rocks or other objects at a hive.
Ok, on that last one, if you throw a rock at them then you deserve to be stung, dumb ass. But on the rest of those…so you are telling me that there is really nothing I can do once these suckers are after me? We all know I can’t run so I would be the person under the tarp left for dead.
I will concede that there is no firm evidence that bees bother me simply to see the fear in my eyes, however they definitely suck more than I already thought they did. The other day I was headed to work, smiling as the spring sun kissed my cheeks. A golf ball sized bee buzzed out of the bush by my driveway and tried to zoom towards my car to get in with me. Even if I have disproven my theory about these creatures, I still maintain that I heard him laugh as my terror forced me to collapse in the seat and slam the door in his furry little face.
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