Where the hell is that cleaning fairy???

My house is a wreck.  I mean, wow, it’s bad.  It looks like it’s been ransacked and I am not exaggerating.  Huge pile of dirty dishes.  HUGE HUGE pile of clean clothes that has multiplied and spread all over the living room (yall know how much I love doing laundry). Junk on the kitchen table.  Junk on the kitchen counters.  Junk on all the floors.  UGH!  I would DIE, like, fall over DEAD from embarrassment, if anyone popped in on me right now.  The problem is that I do not have any time.  Between school and work (that’s 7 days a week) and kids (the rest of my imaginary free time), I have no time to clean.  I don’t even cook anymore!  And if you know me, your mouth is hanging open in shock.  When I do have a free minute, I prefer to sleep.  My sleep bank account is majorly overdrawn.  The Sandman is hanging around me at all times waiting for my daily deposit of shut-eye.  And he overpowers me at the most inopportune times, like when I’m in class, to demand payment.  So, that being said… I overslept this morning.  I turned the alarm off in a half-sleeping stupor.  So I didn’t make it to clinical today.  My head is killing me but I’m going to clean house today.  I need some motivation, though. I mean, other than complete shame over the state of my living quarters.  My get-up-and-go got up and went a long time ago.  Ok, time to “get off this box”, as my mom says, and get started.  I’m taking Hurricane (who has been named The Princess because she loves pink, anything sparkly, and wearing dresses 24/7) to daycare then coming back and getting started.  Yes, I am.  If you are a friend of mine on Facebook and you haven’t heard from me in another day or two, send out the search party.  I might have been eaten by the mountain of laundry and the little munchkins that I imagine live in there lol.  Come on, you know they exist.  Why else would all of your socks (and undershirts) go missing in the wash?

It comes in threes…

First, a little over a week ago, I get hit by a piece of tire in my car.  Then, yesterday, the transmission went out in my van.  What’s next???  Or maybe the alternator going out a couple months ago was the first thing.  That would be nice.  That would mean I’ve had my three and “fate” can move on to someone else for a while.  Or then again… maybe it’s not the “threes” rule but just more of that damned Jones Luck striking again…  Ugh.  Come on Murph… leave me alone for a while, willya???

Tink You Veddy Mooch

Get ready… soap box time!!!

I had to call my auto finance company today.  After weaving my way though a long line of “press one” for this and “press two” for that, I finally got an actual human on the phone.  She said her name was Jennifer.  She sounded middle-eastern.  I told her that my insurance company had written the repairs check out to me and the finance company and I needed instructions for how to handle it.  She responded with “I will be happy to assist you with this issue” (like reading from a script), then she said “I’m sorry maam, can you repeat that more slowly?”  Ok, yall.  I’m SOUTHERN.  I already speak pretty slowly according to the rest of the country.  So I stated, again, a little slower, what I needed.  She said “I’m sorry maam, I do not understand.  Repeat again?”  At this point I feel my ears getting hot.  I said VERY slowly and VERY clearly, as if speaking to a three-year-old, what I needed.  This went on for TEN minutes!  At one point, I demanded that she find someone to speak to me who spoke ENGLISH as their first language.  She said “I speak English well, maam.”  Um… NO YOU DO NOT!  If you did, we wouldn’t be having this problem!  And I don’t believe for a minute that your name is “Jennifer!!!!”  It’s probably Habibah or something.  No, I didn’t say these things to her, I was just thinking them very loudly in my head.  Anyway, I FINALLY got her to understand me.  Then she tells me I have to endorse the check, mail it to them, and then fax the final repair bill.  THEN they will send a check directly to the repair shop.  After that, I can get my car back.  I don’t friggin THINK so!  I tried to explain to her that I cannot get my car repaired until I have the money.  I need my car back ASAP.  Not two weeks from now when they decide to process my check!  She was insistent and refused to listen to anything else I had to say.  I finally just got the fax and address from her and hung up.  I was on my cell phone, so that means I just pushed the “end” button.  Not nearly as satisfying as slamming down an old phone and making a loud clattering noise in their ear.  Why people?  WHY can’t we have ENGLISH speaking people in customer service positions at American companies?  Is it too much to ask?  A language barrier is extremely frustrating for both parties.  I can’t get my point across and the other person can’t understand me.  My southern drawl isn’t so bad that I’m hard to understand.  I cancelled my internet service with MSN about 10 years ago because of this same issue.  Anytime I called customer service or technical support, I got a foreigner (most likely a company contracted out of India) on the phone who didn’t understand a word I said and only gave responses that sounded like they came out of a book and had nothing to do with my complaint.  I’ve posted before about how customer service in this country has gone to shit.  This just further proves my point. There IS no customer service.  Just an idiot with a phone who barely speaks English.  And don’t get me started on people who move to this country and won’t learn our language…  I refuse to learn their language.  This is AMERICA and we speak English.  Learn OUR language or go home!!

Stepping down off my soap box before I go off on another tirade….

Watch out for those flying tires!

I was driving along Interstate 65 North this afternoon, minding my own business, when WHAM!  The windshield shattered.  I don’t remember exactly what my reaction was.  I pulled to the side of the road and jumped out of the car (why???).  I brushed the glass from my clothes, made sure Hurricane was ok, then dialed 911.  The operator asked me where I was.  I had no clue.  I was standing on the side of the interstate in tears.  He told me to drive down to the nearest exit (I had told him the car was drivable.)  Just after pulling back onto the interstate I see a camper pulled to the side of the road with a shredded tire.  I’m guessing that’s what hit me. I get to exit 280 and the 911 operator patches me through to the local police.  The dispatcher tells me how to get to the station.  I get there and the cop says, “Oh, that’s not our area, you need to go back to Kimberly.”  Then he says, “Your insurance probably won’t require a police report, I wouldn’t worry about it.”  So then I call my insurance company and file a claim.  The lady at the insurance claims office said she didn’t think I would need a report.  As I’m standing there, I notice black marks on the bumper (which is knocked out of whack) and on the hood (with a nice dent.)  The place where the tire hit the windshield is punched in.  I’m so thankful it didn’t come THROUGH the windshield.  It bounced off.  I decided since the car is drivable and the windshield isn’t blocking my view and is safe to drive, to continue on my journey.  About 10 minutes later I had to pull off to the side of the interstate again because I guess the shock wore off and I needed to cry.  Hurricane was asleep in the back seat.  I had checked and she didn’t get any glass at all on her.  I, however, am still picking glass shards out of my arms and from my bra.  As I’m sitting there hyperventilating and crying, I notice the very same camper pass me by.  In a very lady-like fashion, I flipped them the international sign of disgust.  They didn’t see it, of course, and it’s not like it was their fault, but it made me feel a tiny bit better.  What are the odds, really?  I mean, of all those cars travelling along at 70 mph on the interstate, the rogue tire hits ME!  That’s just my luck folks….

That damned “Jones Luck”

Anytime anyone in my family has bad luck, we call it “Jones Luck” (my mom’s family name)

Last week, Leila got ahold of my glasses. when I found them, one of the “arms” was broken off. Now, she’s a strong baby, but I don’t think she could have broken them that cleanly without some bending. I think it already had a weak spot. I just got the new lenses a few months ago, so I went to Wal-Mart to buy a new set of frames. No go. They can’t get them anymore. I looked online and found them for $100 (about $40 cheaper than Wal-Mart) Now lets just hope when they get here that my lenses will actually fit. The lenses are the expensive part of my glasses.

Then, last night I was on my way home with both kiddos in the car and I heard an awful noise. I stopped and got out. It was really dark so I kicked all four tires and none of them were flat. I shrugged and got back in. Started driving again, and the noise started back up. I pulled back over and got out again. It sounded like the rear passenger tire. I felt around the tire, and sure enough, there was something stuck in it. It was a piece of a bungee strap. The metal part was stuck in my tire. I yanked on it and wiggled it but it wouldn’t come out, I could just hear air hissing when I messed with it. I pulled the rubber piece off and left the metal in the tire and drove the mile or so home (very slowly with my flashers on.) It was too dark out there to attempt changing the tire (yes I can change a tire) and I didn’t have a flashlight. I’ll go out there in a bit and put the spare on and take the tire to WalMart and hope they can patch it. I can’t afford a new tire right now.

Ok, things happen in threes right? So what’s next?

Batteries Not Included

Have you ever wondered why so few items actually come with the batteries they require? Obvoious items, like cordless phones, MP3 players, and laptop computers come with their own nifty rechargables. But everything else says “batteries not included” right there on the package. You buy a nice new multi-tasking remote control. It can be used for five different electronics. Does it use AA batteries that you already have a huge stockpile of? NooOOOoooo. It needs AAA. That means you have to go back to the store, assuming you didn’t check the packaging when you bought it to see what type batteries it actually needs, and spend another ten dollars. If you’re lucky enough to buy an electronic device that comes with batteries, they are the el-cheap-o types that won’t last a week. Why can’t the manufacturers get together with the battery folks, like energizer or duracel, and just package the items together? Just jack up the price a few extra bucks to cover the cost of the batteries and be done with it. Or better yet, just put rechargables in everything! There’s an idea!   But I guess that would be too simple.

My least favorite chore

My fiance and I share most of the “chores” around the house.  With the exception of the litter box, that one’s all mine.  In return for that unpleasant task, I only ask that he take out the trash.  Which fueled a nasty little tiff the other day.  Anyhoo… I don’t mind doing dishes, doing the floors, scrubbing the bathroom, cooking, etc.  The one chore I absolutely HATE to do and will put off as long as possible:  folding and putting away laundry.  Seems silly doesn’t it?  I don’t know why, but I’ve always hated doing the laundry.  The easy part gets done, washing and drying.  Heck, the machines do all the work there.  And then I pile all the clean clothes up.  In baskets.  On the bed. On top of the dresser.  I just HATE folding it and putting it away.  Is it some deep-rooted, sub-conscience-type thing?  Maybe I need a shrink to tell me the “hidden meaning” behind it.  So how does the laundry make me feel?  Like running away lol.  I would rather do anything at all than put away the clean clothes.  I don’t get it.  Typing it out makes me sound even more nuts doesn’t it?  I would rather clean the whooooole house and cut the entire yard with a pair of scissors than put away the laundry!  I kid you not.  As much as this bothers Bob, bless his heart, he doesn’t nag me about it.  He just digs through the piles for something to wear (as do my daughter and I) and moves said piles when they are in the way.  I’ve tried tricking myself.  I’ll pile the clothes on the bed and think that I HAVE to put them away to go to bed, right?  Nope.  I move the pile.  Or in some desperate times, just shove the pile over on the bed enough to make a little space to sleep.  *shakes head at self*  I know…. its sad.

Ohhhh an afterthought (and reason for the edit):  Why not make disposable clothes?  No need to wash.  Ever.  These clothes would be like scrubs.  But you wear them once and toss them.  They could come in several different colors and patterns.  No need for expensive brand names again.  We could eliminate the plastic bottles of laundry detergent and softener clogging up our landfills.  No more dry-cleaning.  No more folding and putting away.  EVER!!  Hey, I can dream.

I guess it serves me right…

My fiance’s birthday was Thursday.  To celebrate, we went out to eat and to see a movie, my treat.  I, for once, actually carried cash with me, so I took my wallet.  I am not a purse-carrying kinda person.  I usually just stick my debit card and chapstick  in my pocket and go.  However, since we were going to be drinking beer with our dinner and paying cash, I carried my wallet.  Bob has such a baby face.  We get carded any time we try to drink in public lol.  So anyhoo…  Dinner was nice.  The movie (“Yes Man”) was hilarious and we really enjoyed it.  Drove home, picked up the baby, went to bed. 

The next morning, as I was getting ready to go in to the office, I realized I didn’t have my wallet.  Hmmm… did I leave it in the van?  Nope, not there.  Did I leave it in the car?  I checked there too.  Shit.  I last remembered I had it at the movie theater.  I thought I gave it to Bob to put in his jacket.  He said I didn’t.  Shit.  I called the theater every 30 minutes until I finally got someone on the phone.  Yep, they had it. 

Now, I expected the cash to be gone.  Because, lets be honest, that’s just the type of society we live in.  Personally, I *know* if I found a wallet, it would be returned with ALL of its contents.  I have a horrible guilty conscience and would never be able to live with myself if I stole something intentionally.  Thankfully, I only had about $15.00 cash left in there.  So no big loss.  I was just praying that my drivers license and social security card were still there.  I know, not supposed to carry them together. 

So we made the 30 minute drive to the movie theater.  I got up there and requested my wallet.  The dude handed it to me and the first thing I did was look for the cash.  Of course, it was gone.  As I walked out to my car, I realized the change was gone too.  They took my freakin CHANGE yall.  I probably had a whole dollar in change, mostly pennies, in the zipper change hickey.  And they took it.  That peeved me a little bit.

As I was driving away, I thought about something:  I had two Wal*Mart gift cards in there.  One was empty, I had just shoved it back in there.  The other had $25.00 on it (and they had to dig to find it.)  That was it.  I was pissed off then.  Not only did the dishonest creatins take my cash and my change, they had to actually rifle through my wallet, touching ALL my personal stuff, to find the gift cards.  Now, if they had taken my credit cards, they would have been sorely disappointed to find that they would all be declined.  I really gotta get those things paid… but I digress.  My debit card wouldn’t have done them much good without the PIN.  However, it could have been swiped as a credit card, but again, they would have been disappointed.  So as I’m ranting and raving, Bob says, just call the theater and tell the manager how you feel.  Right.  I can’t prove anything.  They wouldn’t know if I had $15 or $100 in there.  And there is nothing they could do anyway.  I’m sure nobody would own up to finding my wallet knowing that shit was missing from it.  But I was angry, so I called and vented my anger anyway.  The manager unsuccesfully tried to placate me by saying “I’m sorry that happened ma’am.”  Uh huh.

*sigh*  Guess it serves me right.  I shouldn’t have left the damn thing behind.  I just wish people were more honest and didn’t take what didn’t belong to them.  I really hope I can teach my children morals and value and they will never feel like they would want (or need) to steal.  No matter how convenient or easy it may be.

The worst day EVER!

I couldn’t sleep last night because of Bob’s snoring. So I grabbed up Leila and we slept in Baylie’s bed. I hit snooze for an hour and a half this morning. Flo showed up first thing, finally. Got up, showered, got myself and Leila dressed and out the door. Mama called and asked me to bring her some milk (she’s keeping Leila today so I said ok). Ugh. So I swing around and go to the bank to get cash. I realized I left Leila’s formula at home on the counter so I swung back by the house to get it. I left the car running and was just going to jump out and grab it. As I was getting out of the car, my elbow hit the “lock” switch for the doors. I heard it and tried to catch the door but it closed too fast. So here I was standing outside my car with it running and my cell phone and my baby locked inside. I was trying not to panic. I called Bob’s cell phone from the house phone. He can’t answer at work so I called his job and told them it was an emergency. He came to the phone and I was in tears. I asked him if he had Mama’s or Scott’s cell phone number. Mama has my spare set of keys to the van. He said no, he didn’t have their numbers, but he would run down and get the keys for me. So I was standing outside my van, looking through the window at Leila. She was screaming because she couldn’t get her toboggin (sp?) off her head and it was covering her eyes. Once she wiggled it off and could see, she was fine. I stood there crying and talking to her through the window for a few minutes. I figured, well, I can stand here and cry, or I can do something constructive. So I decided to wash the car. It was about 45 degrees this morning (shut up all you northern folks, that’s COLD to me!) and I’m out there washing the van. Leila was watching me and doing just fine. Finally, she just fell asleep. So I finished up. It had been about 45 minutes. Bob comes screeching to a halt in front of the house and jumps out of his truck. He says “Your mom doesn’t have your keys and I ran out of gas on the way back.” I said “The hell she don’t! I left them with her!!” (starting to panic now). He said, “Nope, your van keys are in Birmingham with Scott and YOUR car.” UGGGHHHH!!! I was seeing red and starting to cry again. I bought a little Honda to work in a while back and let Mama use the van. I traded vehicles with her before we went up to visit Haley so she’s had my Honda ever since. Well apparently she let her good for nuthin boyfriend drive it and he’s an hour away with the keys to my van! Bob asked if I had called a locksmith or the cops. Of course, I hadn’t because I thought he was comign back with my keys. He gets a wire hanger and starts digging around. Making me very nervous. I know you can really tear up a car with power locks that way. And I was NOT calling the cops. I don’t need DHR on my ass and especially don’t want anything out there that Kevin can use against me in court (even thought its not a custody case, still…). Bob says, “I’m tempted to just break out the window” and I was like “Ummm NOOOO. That would cost alot more than a locksmith! I’m going to call and see how much it costs”. I was on the phone with the lady giving her the information and Bob ran inside and told me to give him 5 minutes, he almost had it. He was able to pull the weather stripping away from the top of the window and snake the hanger down in there to the switch. He finally got it (and saved me $45, not to mention my sanity). Leila slept through the whole thing. So I get on the road and get to my mom’s. I forgot to get her some milk. I explained to her that I do NOT wanting Scott driving my car (I’ve already told her this one time before) and that I let her use it so she wouldn’t be stranded, not for Scott’s benefit. He HAS a car. It’s been “broken” for a couple months now. Know what’s wrong with it??? It needs a battery and vacuum hoses. Um… HELLO?? OMG that’s a whole other bitch all in itself. He’s a piece of shit. I told her I wasn’t very comfortable leaving Leila there with her having no way to go. She said “I won’t let him drive it anymore.” Mmmhhhhmmm. I’m taking my car back this evening when Scott gets home. My mother has NO respect for me or my things. I told her when I left her the van that I would keep the oil changed, tires rotated, etc on it. All she had to do was put gas in it and NOT SMOKE in it. When I got it back from her to go to Haley’s, I had to thoroughly clean it out. It smelled like an ashtray and there were ashes all in it. I called her that day and pitched a fit with her and she said “I won’t do it anymore.” I bet you money she’s been smoking in my freakin Honda too. So that’s it, I’m tired of being nice and getting shit on. Anyhoo… I left Leila there because I didn’t have any other choice. I HAD to get some work done today and I can’t very well take her with me. I get a few miles down the road from Mamas house and I get pulled over by a state trooper. That did it for me. I started bawling. I handed him my driver’s license, but I couldn’t find my proof of insurance. I started bawling harder. I was appologizing to him the whole time (I felt like an idiot for crying) and babbling about how bad my day sucked. I mentioned locking my baby in the car and I didn’t need a ticket becasue I do sales for a living. He asked me where I was going and I told him Talladega (county seat) and he said “You’re not going to DHR are you?” I was mortified. I said “NooOOOooo!!!” and he laughed. He said, “I was kidding” (I guess because I said I locked my baby in the car, I dunno, wasn’t funny to me) He told me to slow it down and he hoped my day got better. I was shocked. I have NEVER gotten out of a ticket. Ever. And I’m not one of these women who cries to get out of a ticket. I am not that talented. I was gratefull that he let me go though! And all this happened BEFORE LUNCH! I went on with my day trying to get some work done. I’m waiting on Bob to get off work now and I’m going to call Mama and make sure Scott is back before I go down there. I’m hungry, cramping, my back hurts, I’m tired…. I want a do-over!!!!!!

Watermelon Seeds

This is something I wrote back in August of 2006.  I dug it up and decided to repost it here.

 

I love watermelon.  It’s one of my favorite fruits.  Or is it a vegetable?  Anyhoo… As I sit here eating this sweet juicy treat, I can’t fully enjoy it because I have to constantly spit out seeds.  Of course, I could have spent twice as much on a smaller watermelon that is seedless.  BTW, whoever came up with seedless watermelon was a friggin GENIOUS.  And I have come to the conclusion that it really is worth the extra money to not have to worry about biting into a seed or spitting them out and compromising my image of being a “lady”.  So as I eat my watermelon and watch a favorite movie, I start to wonder about other “seeds” in life.  Think about it:  we would all enjoy things in life much better without the little annoyances that seem to come with them.  Rides at Six Flags would be much more enjoyable if the lines weren’t two hours long.  You could get off the ride, jump back in line and get right back on.  Hence the invention of the “Q-Bot”.  With this wonderful invention, you can pay a fee (usually quite hefty) and not have to bear the lines.  You still have to wait, but not crammed in those que lines like cattle being corralled.  And if you purchase the most expensive option, you only have to wait a nominal time.  But as more and more people are using this feature, the wait times start to increase.  Seeds.  Or what about toy stores around Christmas time.  Toy stores are great.  They have every type of toy any child (or grown-up) could ever want.  Children can run amock and ooh and ahhh and demand every toy in the store to their little hearts content.  But around the holidays, Moms are stressed out and trying to control their brood.  Their are 4 million people crammed into that one store that was once upon a time seemed so magical and huge.  Suddenly, it’s become the seventh circle of hell.  Children are screaming, crying, throwing fits in the isles, running around in circles burning off stored up energy from the long ride in the car.  Moms are pulling thier hair out trying to control the children, snatching items off the shelves before another mom can grab it, wandering around with blank looks on their faces trying to find the one important and yet hard to find item on thier dear child’s list to “Santa”.  What was once a fun and enjoyable shopping trip has become somewhat traumatic.  Seeds.  Movies can be a great way to spend an afternoon or evening.  Not so great for first dates (can’t talk!) but a good and fun activity for anyone.  You can even purchase your tickets online in advance in many cases.  You get there, get your tickets, purchase your grossly overpriced candies, popcorn, and drinks and find a comfy seat in the auditorium.  The seats fill up, the lights dim, and the excitement begins.  Then, about 5 minutes into the movie, a small child behind you starts to squirm and squeal.  Mom tries to calm and entertain the child, further distracting you from the film.  You want to turn around and glare at the little urchin and his busy mom who is ruining your fun.  But good manners prevent it.  Just as Mom gets the little one quieted down, a couple of teenagers in the row in front of you start whispering and then giggling loudly.   Or if it’s a scary movie, they squeel every time something startling happens.  Or how about Shauntay and her three girlfriends who want to holler at the screen “Girl!  Don’t go in there!” or “Honey, you know that man is gonna get you!” or “noooo you didn’t!”  any time the heroine of the film enters a room, doesn’t look behind her, or does something brainless.  Seeds.
     If only we could all develop seedless watermelons of life.  But then, what would we have to complain about?