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Pros & Cons 9-1-06

Issue Date: Friday, Sept. 01, 2006

Sometimes I just wish I could be ten again. Sometimes I wish I could just come home from elementary school, drop my book bag on the green, red, gold and orange shag carpeting and then haul ass out the back door. From the back door I would then bound down the steps of the porch two at a time, pausing only to watch a green lizard scurry underneath the board of the railing. I would turn left and head directly into the woods, into the lush green bushes and pine straw slickness of the ground under the trees.

Times like today… actually, times like this week.

Let’s do a list of pros and cons, deal? Ya’ll post yours too and I’ll link to them.

I cleared the air with the IT lady who was hateful to me Monday. Around noon yesterday Wednesday I asked to speak to her in the hallway and I told her that I thought what she said was shitty, she hemmed and hawed and apologized profusely.

The puppy peed on the carpet yesterday Wednesday morning. I stumbled out of bed when he started his, “Leeeet meeeee ouuuuuuut!” whine at about the ass crack of dawn. I let him out of his kennel and while I was fumbling with the door lock to the back door, Galen looked up at me with those sweet brown eyes and promptly relieved himself on the carpet.
Then Mister and I got into a spat because he told me that there can not be any lag time when I am letting the puppy out in the mornings. Lag time. Laaaaaggggg TIME. I was all, “It’s your damn dog, then YOU let him out if you don’t want any dangblasted lag time.” [on the inside] and pouty [on the outside].

Then we made up.

Two weekends ago I had to get the hoopty inspected and get her oil changed. It was a frillion dollars and they laughed at me and my faded maroon (now purple) car. They changed the oil and then decided to make sure I knew they meant business when they charged me twelve dollars for a new gas cap.
The old gas cap had one of those little leashes that let it just hang there while you were filling up, the new one? Not so much. I am convinced that I am going to lose the world’s most expensive gas cap.

The gas cap, because it seals properly now gives me better gas mileage.

The hoopty also passed inspection.

She has started to make a death rattle noises at drive through windows and stop lights.

It is cooling down. You know it has been hot when you think that 96 degrees (35.5 Celsius) is actually quite pleasant.

I charged my old ass phone all night Wednesday night… as I do most nights... and this morning Thursday morning she went into “WARNING, I am going to die soon” mode when I went to check my voicemail.
I called Mister and told him about it. It came as no surprise as I have been making an “I need a new battery for my phone” racket for about three months. He asked me to go pick out a new phone at lunch yesterday.

I actually love my old ass phone and just wanted to go see if they still had batteries for the hand crank models of the 1920’s.

No go on the battery for the old phone.

The lady said that I qualified for a new phone that was only $30.00 plus tax because I have been a Sprint customer since God was in short pants. I was all, “Sweet.” And then, “But I love my phone.” And then, “Well, this one is pink, how cool is that? Sign me up.”

When she signed me up and ran my credit card for the $30.00 plus tax… that was totally a mail in rebate (score!)… she called in to verify the new phone information with the Sprint Wizard of Oz or whoever that person is on the phone. Actually, this guy’s name was Jason and then she handed me the store’s phone.
Jason: So, you are switching phones.
self: Yes sir.
Jason: Ok, so let me just verify the information that FHuckanomHMCOhhhsahnnn gave me.
self: Alrighty, shoot. [Watching FHuckanomHMCOhhhsahnnn – or whatever her name was – enter my information into the computer.]
Jason: And… you’re contract has been renewed for another two years.
self: Wait, what?
Jason: Then you will just have to pay for the phone outright.
self: [Tried calling Mister, several times… and then ended up crying.]

I have a BlackBerry. With the BlackBerry, I have a BlackBerry messenger. It is awesome. With this BlackBerry messenger I sent Mister a message, “Next time? You handle the phone thing.” Because ya’ll? I am like a kept woman or something. A kept woman who does dishes and laundry and cooks, but a kept woman nonetheless. The last time? When the first awesome phone was purchased? Guess who handled the details? You are right. Mister. I am not a good handler of services when it comes to things involving contracts and minutes and overages and phone details. Give me a hotel contract any day.

Mister was all, “We are returning that phone. And they are going to cancel that contract. I know this because I am Mister, born of thunder and haver of really great thighs.” He went on to say, “They should have disclosed to you, before the transaction was made, that the two year contract would be renewed and that is why you were getting the discount… as a consumer….” I blanked out at that point because I probably saw something shiny and knew that he was going to take care of it anyways… why should I bother my pretty little head with the details? See? Kept woman. But… I knew that this contract cancellation and phone return was going to take a frillion years ya’ll. I knew.

I called FHuckanomHMCOhhhsahnnn to let her know that we were coming back to her store to return the phone and cancel the contract. She was all, “That is totally fine.”

We showed up at 5:50 to her store. FHuckanomHMCOhhhsahnnn was nowhere to be found. And? AND… she was new. Apparently she also totally lied to me. Returning the phone was no big deal… but canceling the contract? That was going to require a blood sacrifice, a trip to British Columbia and a vat of ceviche.
Mister got on the phone with the Sprint Wizard of Oz facility and tried to talk to someone reasonably calm. No dice. He asked to be transferred to a manager, was on hold for 50 minutes, the peon picked up and said, “I am transferring you now”, and then promptly hung up on him.


But… also? Boo.

Mister got the contract cancelled, the phone returned and the credit restored for the $30.00 plus tax. Then he asked for proof that the contract had been cancelled.

We then got on a plane for British Columbia with our vat of freshly made ceviche and also vials of our own blood for the sacrifice.

Just kidding.

Mister never got his proof. And by the time we left it was almost 7:20 p.m…. no big deal to us… but to a little furry badger with sharp teeth and a bladder the size of a dime? Big deal. BIG BIG deal. Ya’ll, Galen not only peed on the floor the morning before, but last night he peed all of his bedding in his kennel and then when I replaced his linens and toys (the others to be burned and or washed during the night) he promptly urinated on the replacement pillow.

I can burn or wash that pillow too.

When does it end?

I think I am going to go make some mosticalli and have a drink. And also? Long weekend. Happy Labor Day Ya’ll!

And a shout out and a PS to my girlfriends in Chicago this weekend staying at Sesil’s house. I love ya’ll and will miss being there with you. Have a great weekend and Happy Birthday Sammie!!!!!!!!!!!


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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