Back to reality.
More specifically, back to the catastophies that me to begin this blog in the first place.
Last Sunday, we went on a bike ride with our friend Zach who was in town visiting Rice (Zach and Paige are moving to Houston - hooray!!). We were supposed to ride 65 miles, but since I cried for the first 30ish miles of the ride, the guys let me go home (secretely, I know they wanted to go home too). DUDE. The wind was TERRIBLE and it was soooo cold. I could barely control my bike because the crosswinds were insane, and if we weren't in cross wind, we were in a headwind that was about 20-25 mph with 30mpg gusts. DUDE. It was miserable. I seriously cried. The whole way. And then my tears froze on my face. So, our 65 mile bike ride turned into 40ish miles...and took us the same amount of time. Our average speed was 14mph...which on a good day is like a leisurely bike ride. Last Sunday however, I was busting some serious arse to get my bike to go faster than 2mph. I swear.
Anyway, after that wonderful and enjoyable ride, I threw my bike in my car and headed home. I ran over a giant piece of metal that tore a hole in the condensor of my AC (thereby rendering it useless), cracked my windshield and tore up my bumper. Awesome.
Tommy left for Amsterdam right when we got home from the bike ride, so I got to deal with with my car troubles by myself.
On Tuesday evening, I took my pooch for a run...I had already worked out that day so I was just gonna do a couple of miles so he could get some exercise. When I came home, the cops were outside my house checking the place out. Apparently in the 20 minutes I was gone, my house alarm when off. The cops walked through the house with me and everything looked fine. I think (hope) it was a false alarm. I didn't sleep so well that night.
On Wednesday, I took my car to the shop. Repairs were estimated at about $2000 so I filed a claim with insurance. Since insurance takes a long time, it was estimated that my car wouldn't be done till the end of this week...so I am driving a Nissan Versa for now. It's a magical POS.
I drove the Versa for 2 days, during which I noticed a clanking everytime I made a right turn. Turns out that there were empty Modelo beer bottles under the passenger seat. Apparently Enterprise doesn't believe in cleaning cars before renting them out. But the good news is that I left my garage door opener and my work badge in my car at the dealership, so I can't get into my garage at home or the parking garage at work.
On Thursday my phone stopped working. The buttons just stopped doing anything. The music player would turn on all by itself but then the buttons would stop working, so you couldn't turn the music off. I would have to take the battery out to make the music stop. Very bizarre. In the mornings, my alarm would go off, but I wouldn't be able to turn it off. TMobile is sending me a new phone that should be here within 4-10 business days. GREAT. Almost 2 weeks without a phone - yippee. I can be reached by email, thanks. That night, I met Janelle and Thomas and Francis for dinner at Collina's where I got sufficiently drunk and all was okay with the world. Then we went to Onion Creek to wish Robert a farewell.
So, at this point, I am without a car, without a phone and my house keeps getting broken into!
Tommy and I spent Friday afternoon evening sitting on our porch at home drinking wine and chatting, and then we went to Onion Creek to meet some friends for crawfish and beer...however at $6 a pound for crawfish, we opted out and eventually came home to make sushi for dinner.
On Saturday, we woke up at 1am to meet Thomas at his house so we could drive to Gonzales, Texas to begin the TEXAS INDEPENDENCE RELAY. It's a 203 mile relay that follows the trail of battles that led to the Texas' independence. We had an 11 person team and we each ran 3-4 legs of 4-6 miles each. I ran 23 miles over Sat/Sun and Tommy ran 24. It was a lot of fun and my knee did surprisingly well (maybe acupuncture works?). My knee started hurting a bit on my 4th leg, but all in all, it was MUCH better than I anticipated. Setting low expectations is sometimes a good thing. Ha.
On Saturday night, we got a call (on Tommy's phone of course, mine is still broken) from the alarm company saying that our alarm had gone off AGAIN! and the cops had gone over, but it didn't look like anything was wrong. The glass break detector went off so we were worried...we had some time on Sunday morning to stop by the house real quick to check it out. Luckily, a bunch of magnet had just falled off the fridge and set it off, but dear gawd, I was freaked out.
36 hours later, we crossed the finish line at the San Jacinto Monument, the magical place where Santa Anna was finally defeated and Texas' Independence was won!!
We finished off a catastrophic (yet fun)week with some beer at Shady Tavern and pizza sponsored by Froehlich. It was delicious.
At about 8:30, we crawled into bed and passed out. We slept till 6:30 and I am still tired.
Hopefully I will get a phone and a car this week...keep your fingers crossed!!
Showing posts with label Customer Service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Customer Service. Show all posts
Monday, March 09, 2009
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Moving Day!!
On Tuesday, November 4, 2008, I officially became a homeowner.
Tommy and I purchased our first home together and man, it was a great feeling walking into that brand-new, GORGEOUS house with our bottle of champagne, knowing that it was all ours.
That is, it was great until the phone installation guy backed over a water main and shut off water to our whole block within 15 minutes of homeownership. I mean, we didn't even have a chance to toast to our new house yet!! Luckily, after a trip to Lowe's down the street, the phone guy was able to repair the water line and turn the water back on. But seriously? We had only owned the home for half an hour.
THEN...yes, there's more. It's me. Of course there is more.
Tommy went to the old house to help the movers load the truck while I stayed at home to unpack the kitchen stuff we brought over earlier. The movers showed up an hour and a half late (at 4PM instead of 2:30) and it took them FOREVER to load the truck. When they finally had everything in the truck and they were about to head to the new house, the truck broke down. Yup, that's right. The truck broke down, in the driveway of my old house, with all my belongings in it at 6:30PM. They were able to get it started again, but it broke down several more times in the 4 mile journey from old to new house. It took them an hour to drive 4 miles. They finally finished unpacking around 8:30 and we were able to unpack a little before passing out.
All in all the house is great and we are so thankful that everything has worked out thus far.
Here is a picture of Don in all my packing materials. He is clearly not enjoying this. I think the crinkling of the paper was too loud for him. (In the background you can see the floor of the living room...oooh, ahhh)
Tommy and I purchased our first home together and man, it was a great feeling walking into that brand-new, GORGEOUS house with our bottle of champagne, knowing that it was all ours.
That is, it was great until the phone installation guy backed over a water main and shut off water to our whole block within 15 minutes of homeownership. I mean, we didn't even have a chance to toast to our new house yet!! Luckily, after a trip to Lowe's down the street, the phone guy was able to repair the water line and turn the water back on. But seriously? We had only owned the home for half an hour.
THEN...yes, there's more. It's me. Of course there is more.
Tommy went to the old house to help the movers load the truck while I stayed at home to unpack the kitchen stuff we brought over earlier. The movers showed up an hour and a half late (at 4PM instead of 2:30) and it took them FOREVER to load the truck. When they finally had everything in the truck and they were about to head to the new house, the truck broke down. Yup, that's right. The truck broke down, in the driveway of my old house, with all my belongings in it at 6:30PM. They were able to get it started again, but it broke down several more times in the 4 mile journey from old to new house. It took them an hour to drive 4 miles. They finally finished unpacking around 8:30 and we were able to unpack a little before passing out.
All in all the house is great and we are so thankful that everything has worked out thus far.
Here is a picture of Don in all my packing materials. He is clearly not enjoying this. I think the crinkling of the paper was too loud for him. (In the background you can see the floor of the living room...oooh, ahhh)
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Ode to my old phone
I just got a new phone. My old phone totally sucked so this is a great improvement. HOWEVER, there is one feature that my old phone had that my new one is lacking and it saddens me greatly.
I se predictive text while texting (duh.). I have gotten pretty good at it and I feel that I can safely text while driving at most speeds. This isn't relevant, I just wanted to brag.
My old phones predictive text was amazing though. When I type the word "comes" into my phone for texting, the predictive texter would guess that I was trying to type "boner". Every single time. You can't buy that can't of humor. You have no idea how many texts I sent to my mother about boners.
You know there are a bunch of Asians out there who design phones and are just cracking themselves up. I just wish this novel feature had been incorporated into my new model. Siiiiiigh.
Speaking of boners, have you heard that Rod Ryan show where they get the grandma's to call in and see how many times they can say "boner"? Hahahahahaha.
I miss my phone.
I se predictive text while texting (duh.). I have gotten pretty good at it and I feel that I can safely text while driving at most speeds. This isn't relevant, I just wanted to brag.
My old phones predictive text was amazing though. When I type the word "comes" into my phone for texting, the predictive texter would guess that I was trying to type "boner". Every single time. You can't buy that can't of humor. You have no idea how many texts I sent to my mother about boners.
You know there are a bunch of Asians out there who design phones and are just cracking themselves up. I just wish this novel feature had been incorporated into my new model. Siiiiiigh.
Speaking of boners, have you heard that Rod Ryan show where they get the grandma's to call in and see how many times they can say "boner"? Hahahahahaha.
I miss my phone.
What's in a name?
I normally don't print full names or email addresses on here for fear that some of you might turn out to be crazy stalker people and show up outside my window one night...but this practice also protects the innocents in my stories. However, in this instance, I can't avoid it. So, I apologize in advance.
Simple Disclaimer (stolen from The Bachelor blog I sdore):
The following information you are about to read is of personal opinion. If this e-mail circulates to friends, family, enemies…that is your business. However, if you or someone in your address book happens to personally know, sort of know, know the brother/cousin of, thought you saw in the grocery store buying Spring Oreos and Spaghetti O’s or have a spin instructor that looks exactly like one of the Bachelorettes…none of this is personal and I’m sure they are all lovely people.
So, I'm sorry too.
What's in a name? I have two stories.
Story #1
At Academy the other day, Tommy and I had some issues at the customer service counter. The girl couldn't figure out how to make our 37 gift cards into one giant gift card. We fought with her forever about it. Finally, we convinced her that buying ONE gift card for $214.67 and paying for that ONE gift card with 37 gift cards was the easiest way to do this. I maintain that her lack of brain cells is due to the fact that her name was TREMENDOUS JOHNSON. Yes, folks, you heard me right. Her name was Tremendous Johnson. When I have children, I hope I go through the list of names and pick something that means Giant Wiener as well.
Story #2
I had to set up a meeting last week with a woman named Betty Heverly whom I have never met. Everytime I looked at her name, I said "Beverly Heverly"...instead of Betty. Our meeting began and the first thing she says to me is "Do not call me Beverly." I spent the next two hours calling her Beverly...over and over again. I can't figure out why I'm not CEO yet.
Simple Disclaimer (stolen from The Bachelor blog I sdore):
The following information you are about to read is of personal opinion. If this e-mail circulates to friends, family, enemies…that is your business. However, if you or someone in your address book happens to personally know, sort of know, know the brother/cousin of, thought you saw in the grocery store buying Spring Oreos and Spaghetti O’s or have a spin instructor that looks exactly like one of the Bachelorettes…none of this is personal and I’m sure they are all lovely people.
So, I'm sorry too.
What's in a name? I have two stories.
Story #1
At Academy the other day, Tommy and I had some issues at the customer service counter. The girl couldn't figure out how to make our 37 gift cards into one giant gift card. We fought with her forever about it. Finally, we convinced her that buying ONE gift card for $214.67 and paying for that ONE gift card with 37 gift cards was the easiest way to do this. I maintain that her lack of brain cells is due to the fact that her name was TREMENDOUS JOHNSON. Yes, folks, you heard me right. Her name was Tremendous Johnson. When I have children, I hope I go through the list of names and pick something that means Giant Wiener as well.
Story #2
I had to set up a meeting last week with a woman named Betty Heverly whom I have never met. Everytime I looked at her name, I said "Beverly Heverly"...instead of Betty. Our meeting began and the first thing she says to me is "Do not call me Beverly." I spent the next two hours calling her Beverly...over and over again. I can't figure out why I'm not CEO yet.
Monday, May 19, 2008
10 Things I Hate About You
Whistling/Singing/Humming to oneself. I just don't understand the reasoning behind this. Never once have I sung to myself in the presence of others. Don't get me wrong, I sing by myself all the time...that's the key though, I'm BY MYSELF. I don't understand people who hum while they pee, or sing in the stairwell, or whistle while they grocery shop. It's annoying. If I wanted music, I'd wear headphones. I may have to start wearing headphones just drown you out.
Conference calls on speakerphone in a cubicle farm.
Body Odor. But more specifically, men who sit next to me on planes with body odor.
Men with long gnarly fingernails (who don't do drugs and therefore have no need for gnarly long fingernails.)
Men with long gnarly fingernails...including the ones who do drugs.
Farting in a cubicle farm...we are not talking SBD's (Silent But Deadlys), we are talking full on tooting at regular intervals. Why must I be forced to contain my laughter? And why doens't anyone else think this is funny?
When the queso at a mexican food place is gross.
Valet parking at ridiculous places and at ridiculous times. More specifically, I hate paying to park and this is considered an acceptable reason for me to decline an invitation somewhere.
People with names like Tremendous Johnson. Yes, I have met a woman named Tremendous - she works at Academy on Westheimer at Voss. She was dumb as a stick. I realize these two things would appear to be unrelated, but I know that if my name was Tremendous, I probably wouldn't feel like I needed to use my brain either.
Customer Service Representatives. I dislike them all out of principle, but I really hate the ones who can't speak my language and/or who have absolutely no desire to actually fix the problem. I REALLY hate Comcast.
People who consistently can't turn off their cell phone ringers. And especially people who consistently can't turn off their cell phone ringers who have annoying rings. No, it not cool when your phone barks instead of rings. No, I do not like the theme song from Growing Pains (that's a lie, I DO like the theme song, just not every 20 minutes). You've been reminded 37 times to turn off your ringer...why are you an idiot?
People who repeat the same joke over and over again until you laugh. And before any of you judge me, I am well aware that I do this...but I hate it about myself. Ugh!The first step is recognizing that you have a problem. The second step is remembering that you don't talk about Fight Club.
Crumbly cheeses. Rain. Brussel sprouts. Small dogs. Small cars. Big bridges. Treadmill. Spiders, snakes and most other reptilia and amphibia and arachnids and such. Tequila. Retractable leashes. Cats.
These are just to name a few. I'm such an upbeat person.
Conference calls on speakerphone in a cubicle farm.
Body Odor. But more specifically, men who sit next to me on planes with body odor.
Men with long gnarly fingernails (who don't do drugs and therefore have no need for gnarly long fingernails.)
Men with long gnarly fingernails...including the ones who do drugs.
Farting in a cubicle farm...we are not talking SBD's (Silent But Deadlys), we are talking full on tooting at regular intervals. Why must I be forced to contain my laughter? And why doens't anyone else think this is funny?
When the queso at a mexican food place is gross.
Valet parking at ridiculous places and at ridiculous times. More specifically, I hate paying to park and this is considered an acceptable reason for me to decline an invitation somewhere.
People with names like Tremendous Johnson. Yes, I have met a woman named Tremendous - she works at Academy on Westheimer at Voss. She was dumb as a stick. I realize these two things would appear to be unrelated, but I know that if my name was Tremendous, I probably wouldn't feel like I needed to use my brain either.
Customer Service Representatives. I dislike them all out of principle, but I really hate the ones who can't speak my language and/or who have absolutely no desire to actually fix the problem. I REALLY hate Comcast.
People who consistently can't turn off their cell phone ringers. And especially people who consistently can't turn off their cell phone ringers who have annoying rings. No, it not cool when your phone barks instead of rings. No, I do not like the theme song from Growing Pains (that's a lie, I DO like the theme song, just not every 20 minutes). You've been reminded 37 times to turn off your ringer...why are you an idiot?
People who repeat the same joke over and over again until you laugh. And before any of you judge me, I am well aware that I do this...but I hate it about myself. Ugh!The first step is recognizing that you have a problem. The second step is remembering that you don't talk about Fight Club.
Crumbly cheeses. Rain. Brussel sprouts. Small dogs. Small cars. Big bridges. Treadmill. Spiders, snakes and most other reptilia and amphibia and arachnids and such. Tequila. Retractable leashes. Cats.
These are just to name a few. I'm such an upbeat person.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
My. Life. Goal.
I have always talked about how awesome it would be if a group of arbitrary people broke out in song and dance for no apparent reason. Well, these people have made my dreams come true. Please check out this video. I worship these people.
http://improveverywhere.com/2008/03/09/food-court-musical/#more-221
http://improveverywhere.com/2008/03/09/food-court-musical/#more-221
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Sunday the 17th
Usually it's Friday the 13th that makes people's hair stand on end, but not for our family. Sunday the 17th was the Day of the Devil...I swear it was out to get us.
We awoke to the bedroom that was sweltering because our AC had broken and Conn's sucks and has decided to take their sweet time to fix it. I, having not slept well for the past 3 nights, popped out of bed because I had really just been waiting for an appropriate time to get up...I was bored senseless. I let the dog out to pee. Tommy and I start puttering. We are checking mail and chatting, reading the newspaper, making coffee, etc...typically Sunday morning.
Then the guitar to Rock Band breaks. This is a crisis. Our lives have just got flipped turned upside down. A trip to Best Buy is in order...STAT.
Then we start trying to pay bills when we learn that the bank has charged us an annual fee for something we didn't want, but they convinced us we needed...eff you Wells Fargo. We tried to get it taken off, but to no avail...they are all incompetent. I'll be switching banks as soon as I can.
Then we find a "Customer Fee" on our gas bill for $20. What the hell is a customer fee?? We tried calling, but the "Estimated Wait Time is 9,000,000,023 minutes. We will process your call in the order in which it was recieved." Eff you Centerpoint!!! If I had other gas options, I would take them!!
Finally we decide to take the guitar back...because really, a day without Rock Band is like a day in the burning inferno of hell. It takes awhile to return it because, let's be honest, despite the awesomeness that is Rock Band, it is a very poorly made game and it has broken about 4 times in the last 3 weeks. Luckily, we are still within our one month of returns to Best Buy...we have been back there thrice.
We get home and install the new guitar. It's "overdrive" mode doesn't work as well as the old one and is frankly, kind of retarded. It will likely go back by the end of the week.
After this debacle, Tommy is thouroughly depressed. I decide that it is better for us to stay home - leaving the house doesn't seem safe at this point. So, we try to watch Lord of the Rings - Return of the King (I haven't seen it). Of course, while we own all the other movies in the universe, this one has escaped out collection...so off to Blockbuster I go. But alas, the Blockbuster near our house is out of the movie. BUT in a highlight of my day, the Blockbuster person was not totally imcompetent...she knew what she was doing and she actually attempted to help a customer. Thank you Aisha...you deserve a raise. Sooo, she called another Blockbuster (about 15 minutes away)...and I went to pick up my movie. In typical (Aisha was a-typical) Blcokbuster fashion, renting a movie was a difficult task. My credit card on file expired so they need a new one, my address was wrong, my name was misspelled, blah blah blah...just let me rent a freaking movie...you have one late fee from 1997 at a Blockbuster in Timbuktu. Whatever. Just give me my effing movie!!
Ugh. I can't remember what else happened, but I am glad we stayed inside most of the day...who knows what lurked for us out our front door...
We awoke to the bedroom that was sweltering because our AC had broken and Conn's sucks and has decided to take their sweet time to fix it. I, having not slept well for the past 3 nights, popped out of bed because I had really just been waiting for an appropriate time to get up...I was bored senseless. I let the dog out to pee. Tommy and I start puttering. We are checking mail and chatting, reading the newspaper, making coffee, etc...typically Sunday morning.
Then the guitar to Rock Band breaks. This is a crisis. Our lives have just got flipped turned upside down. A trip to Best Buy is in order...STAT.
Then we start trying to pay bills when we learn that the bank has charged us an annual fee for something we didn't want, but they convinced us we needed...eff you Wells Fargo. We tried to get it taken off, but to no avail...they are all incompetent. I'll be switching banks as soon as I can.
Then we find a "Customer Fee" on our gas bill for $20. What the hell is a customer fee?? We tried calling, but the "Estimated Wait Time is 9,000,000,023 minutes. We will process your call in the order in which it was recieved." Eff you Centerpoint!!! If I had other gas options, I would take them!!
Finally we decide to take the guitar back...because really, a day without Rock Band is like a day in the burning inferno of hell. It takes awhile to return it because, let's be honest, despite the awesomeness that is Rock Band, it is a very poorly made game and it has broken about 4 times in the last 3 weeks. Luckily, we are still within our one month of returns to Best Buy...we have been back there thrice.
We get home and install the new guitar. It's "overdrive" mode doesn't work as well as the old one and is frankly, kind of retarded. It will likely go back by the end of the week.
After this debacle, Tommy is thouroughly depressed. I decide that it is better for us to stay home - leaving the house doesn't seem safe at this point. So, we try to watch Lord of the Rings - Return of the King (I haven't seen it). Of course, while we own all the other movies in the universe, this one has escaped out collection...so off to Blockbuster I go. But alas, the Blockbuster near our house is out of the movie. BUT in a highlight of my day, the Blockbuster person was not totally imcompetent...she knew what she was doing and she actually attempted to help a customer. Thank you Aisha...you deserve a raise. Sooo, she called another Blockbuster (about 15 minutes away)...and I went to pick up my movie. In typical (Aisha was a-typical) Blcokbuster fashion, renting a movie was a difficult task. My credit card on file expired so they need a new one, my address was wrong, my name was misspelled, blah blah blah...just let me rent a freaking movie...you have one late fee from 1997 at a Blockbuster in Timbuktu. Whatever. Just give me my effing movie!!
Ugh. I can't remember what else happened, but I am glad we stayed inside most of the day...who knows what lurked for us out our front door...
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
The 35 Cent Check
I found this article today and was amused...
How Far Would You Go to Cash a $0.35 Check?
Would you cash a 35-cent check? Two days ago I wouldn't have known the answer to that question. Now I do, and, I'm sorry to say, the answer for me is yes. Yesterday I spent 30 minutes traveling to my bank and back to cash a 35-cent check.
Here's the story and what I plan to do with my spoils.
Two weeks ago I received a letter from my health insurance carrier. Excited to be receiving an unexpected check, I tore into the envelope and retrieved a check written out to me for the grand sum of $0.35. I went to chuck the check into the trash bin, but some unknown and unseen force held me back.
Staring at the check, I laid it next to my computer, where it sat for two weeks, buried by the usual clutter that seems to follow me like grunge follows Pigpen of Charlie Brown fame. Two days ago while I sifted through the grunge, the check resurfaced. Convinced it had taken on a life of its own, I started to tear it up, but again something held me back. So I relented and took the check to work with me yesterday.
My bank, Citibank, is just across the street from where I work, so at midday I set out on a 35-cent adventure.
As I neared the bank, though, something didn't look quite right. As I got closer I noticed a large chain wrapped around and through the bank's door handles and held together by a padlock. At first I thought, "Wow, the credit meltdown took out Citibank! This is worse than I thought." Looking around I soon realized, however, that all the shops were closed because the office building had just begun renovations.
Racking my brain to remember where the next closest Citibank branch was, I reversed course and headed back the other way for five blocks. Entering the Citibank branch, I marched up to the teller and triumphantly tendered my 35-cent check.
"I'd like to cash this check, please. I'd prefer quarters and dimes." The teller looked at the check and without missing a beat said, "Are you sure you're comfortable walking around with this much money?" Nice.
Now get this: I actually had to sign for the cash. She just smiled and said it was bank policy. Now I'm thinking the insurance company and the bank are owned by the same company. Anyway, with cash in hand, I left the financial institution with my head held high and change a-jiggling in my pocket.
So what am I going to do with my newfound wealth? I'm putting it toward my savings goal. With that $0.35, I've already achieved .000875% of my goal. Giddy up.
How Far Would You Go to Cash a $0.35 Check?
Would you cash a 35-cent check? Two days ago I wouldn't have known the answer to that question. Now I do, and, I'm sorry to say, the answer for me is yes. Yesterday I spent 30 minutes traveling to my bank and back to cash a 35-cent check.
Here's the story and what I plan to do with my spoils.
Two weeks ago I received a letter from my health insurance carrier. Excited to be receiving an unexpected check, I tore into the envelope and retrieved a check written out to me for the grand sum of $0.35. I went to chuck the check into the trash bin, but some unknown and unseen force held me back.
Staring at the check, I laid it next to my computer, where it sat for two weeks, buried by the usual clutter that seems to follow me like grunge follows Pigpen of Charlie Brown fame. Two days ago while I sifted through the grunge, the check resurfaced. Convinced it had taken on a life of its own, I started to tear it up, but again something held me back. So I relented and took the check to work with me yesterday.
My bank, Citibank, is just across the street from where I work, so at midday I set out on a 35-cent adventure.
As I neared the bank, though, something didn't look quite right. As I got closer I noticed a large chain wrapped around and through the bank's door handles and held together by a padlock. At first I thought, "Wow, the credit meltdown took out Citibank! This is worse than I thought." Looking around I soon realized, however, that all the shops were closed because the office building had just begun renovations.
Racking my brain to remember where the next closest Citibank branch was, I reversed course and headed back the other way for five blocks. Entering the Citibank branch, I marched up to the teller and triumphantly tendered my 35-cent check.
"I'd like to cash this check, please. I'd prefer quarters and dimes." The teller looked at the check and without missing a beat said, "Are you sure you're comfortable walking around with this much money?" Nice.
Now get this: I actually had to sign for the cash. She just smiled and said it was bank policy. Now I'm thinking the insurance company and the bank are owned by the same company. Anyway, with cash in hand, I left the financial institution with my head held high and change a-jiggling in my pocket.
So what am I going to do with my newfound wealth? I'm putting it toward my savings goal. With that $0.35, I've already achieved .000875% of my goal. Giddy up.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Houston. The Land That I Love.
There was a stray dog in our yard last night. It was a puppy, cute, whatever, but it didn't have tags and it was barking at us and I didn't want Donny the Dog to get any wierd diseases. Anyways, I called Animal Control, but they only work normal business hours. So, I called the police - they told me to shoot it.
Awesome.
Awesome.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Seriously? Seriously.
So, in addition to being a cripple who can't work out and therefore can't eat, (oh, and by the way, I have to take 10 students out to eat two meals a day every day this week...but I can't actually consume anything), my computer crashed on Tuesday morning. I called our service center and they said it would be fixed within 24 hours...3 days later, still nothing. I am using a spare, but you know, none of my info is on this one. It's a pain. But the real problem is that most of my wedding stuff is saved on that laptop as well, and I can't access any of it. Normally, I wouldn't save all that personal stuff on a work computer, but since ours got stolen when we were robbed a few months ago, I don't have another choice.
Seriously? So for those of you coming to the wedding, don't expect much. I will likely not be wearing a wedding dress because it won't fit. There probably won't be flowers or food because I can't access the phone numbers. And the odds are pretty high that we will get robbed again or I will amputate an arm or something in the next 9 days.
So, in addition to being a cripple who can't work out and therefore can't eat, (oh, and by the way, I have to take 10 students out to eat two meals a day every day this week...but I can't actually consume anything), my computer crashed on Tuesday morning. I called our service center and they said it would be fixed within 24 hours...3 days later, still nothing. I am using a spare, but you know, none of my info is on this one. It's a pain. But the real problem is that most of my wedding stuff is saved on that laptop as well, and I can't access any of it. Normally, I wouldn't save all that personal stuff on a work computer, but since ours got stolen when we were robbed a few months ago, I don't have another choice.
Seriously? So for those of you coming to the wedding, don't expect much. I will likely not be wearing a wedding dress because it won't fit. There probably won't be flowers or food because I can't access the phone numbers. And the odds are pretty high that we will get robbed again or I will amputate an arm or something in the next 9 days.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Not a Racist.
A funny thing happened on the way to the forum (and by forum, I mean gas station).
We all got together to watch the LSU game this past weekend, and despite the gorgeous weather, I sat inside (quietly and without complaining...I'm such a big girl) and watched LSU play football...and then lose 17 hours later. Since the game lasted so long, we ran out of beer and decided a beer run was in order. Jeff accompanied Brandie and I, which we turned out to be thankful for because Jeff may or may not live on the wrong side of the tracks.
When we walked into the crowded gas station, the conversation that we overhead went something like this:
Man with cigarette hanging from his mouth, and a 40 in his hand: "Man, you been workin lately?"
Other man with ass crack hanging out, and a 40 in his hand: "Ah man, I been workin so hard. I work from 5 to 9 every day, 5 days a week!"
You are right good sir. You are an upstanding citizen. Most people consider working 20 hours a week working hard.
Then we feared so much for our lives that we fled the scene quietly, but now we had beer.
This story brought on a new level of conversation at the party. Brandie offered up this story...(told from Brandie's point of view)...
So, I used to live in a small town in Mississippi where I was the minority. A typical small town...for example, when I walked into a furniture store, the clerks said, "Oh, you must be the new white engineer in town". One day, I got hungry for some ice cream, so I went to a Marble Slab type place. I asked the [black] guy for an ice cream cone with colored sprinkles. He gave me an ice cream cone with the chocolate sprinkles...and by "colored sprinkles", I actually meant the rainbow ones. Not black ones.
Seriously though. I'm not a racist. I just know good jokes when I hear them.
A funny thing happened on the way to the forum (and by forum, I mean gas station).
We all got together to watch the LSU game this past weekend, and despite the gorgeous weather, I sat inside (quietly and without complaining...I'm such a big girl) and watched LSU play football...and then lose 17 hours later. Since the game lasted so long, we ran out of beer and decided a beer run was in order. Jeff accompanied Brandie and I, which we turned out to be thankful for because Jeff may or may not live on the wrong side of the tracks.
When we walked into the crowded gas station, the conversation that we overhead went something like this:
Man with cigarette hanging from his mouth, and a 40 in his hand: "Man, you been workin lately?"
Other man with ass crack hanging out, and a 40 in his hand: "Ah man, I been workin so hard. I work from 5 to 9 every day, 5 days a week!"
You are right good sir. You are an upstanding citizen. Most people consider working 20 hours a week working hard.
Then we feared so much for our lives that we fled the scene quietly, but now we had beer.
This story brought on a new level of conversation at the party. Brandie offered up this story...(told from Brandie's point of view)...
So, I used to live in a small town in Mississippi where I was the minority. A typical small town...for example, when I walked into a furniture store, the clerks said, "Oh, you must be the new white engineer in town". One day, I got hungry for some ice cream, so I went to a Marble Slab type place. I asked the [black] guy for an ice cream cone with colored sprinkles. He gave me an ice cream cone with the chocolate sprinkles...and by "colored sprinkles", I actually meant the rainbow ones. Not black ones.
Seriously though. I'm not a racist. I just know good jokes when I hear them.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
I heart donuts.
I really do heart them. More than I heart cheese. Seriously. The only thing that makes me eat cheese more often than donuts is the total absence of anything remotely healthy about donuts. Cheese at least has SOMETHING going for it. It may be fattening, but it has nutrients!!
I gave up donuts for 419 days...it was a miserable time. I am now back on the donuts, but I am no longer addicted. I would even venture to say that I only eat them as often as the normal American person. But there was a time, in a magical land, far far away, when I would eat at least 5 a day...a dozen was no big thing.
Brandie sent me this today:
http://cityguides.msn.com/citylife/article.aspx?cp-documentid=5354141&page=1
I heart them. I really do. I also think I may heart the man who wrote this article...he and I cold be BFF.
I really do heart them. More than I heart cheese. Seriously. The only thing that makes me eat cheese more often than donuts is the total absence of anything remotely healthy about donuts. Cheese at least has SOMETHING going for it. It may be fattening, but it has nutrients!!
I gave up donuts for 419 days...it was a miserable time. I am now back on the donuts, but I am no longer addicted. I would even venture to say that I only eat them as often as the normal American person. But there was a time, in a magical land, far far away, when I would eat at least 5 a day...a dozen was no big thing.
Brandie sent me this today:
http://cityguides.msn.com/citylife/article.aspx?cp-documentid=5354141&page=1
I heart them. I really do. I also think I may heart the man who wrote this article...he and I cold be BFF.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Too Much Information.
I am trying to buy a new car. Despite all the irritating salesmen (most of whos names I can't pronounce nor understand when they say them), I am actually enjoying the process. Buying a new big something is fun and it kind of gets your adrenaline pumping. I'm a fan.
I called my bank today to try to get financing and see what sorts of interest rates they were offering. I get a lady, who I CAN actually understand - which is totally bizarre and completely unheard of - so I am more friendly than usual with this particular customer service representative, we will call her Carol (because that's her name). So maybe this can be blamed on me...but I doubt it.
After a few minutes of explaining my situation, i.e. I want a loan for a new car, etc, etc, she starts to ask me questions. All (okay MOST) of which are valid. What's my address? Houston. Her response is to tell me about the last time she was in Texas there was like tennis ball size hail and it was 100 degrees outside...which means like that up in the sky in must have been like the size of basketball because it was so like hot. First of all, I don't know about the rest of you Texans, but I do not like to have my state dissed. This is the best state ever. She goes on to tell me that she lives in San Diego and the weather is always gorgeous and how she hears how awful it is in Texas and how she wouldn't live here if someone paid her. It just isn't her cup of tea, but obviously it suits you, she says.
A few more questions and then she wants to know my birthday - March 13, 1981. Oh, yayy she says, hers is on the 20th. WOW Carol, we have SO much in common. Did you know that about 1 out of every 12 people you meet has a birthday in the same month as you? Awesome. Like totally awesome. Well, in addition to having her birthday 3 days after St. Patty's day, and getting to drink left over green beer, the St. Pattys Day before her 21st birthday, she got wasted and got a four-leaf clover tattooed on her ankle. Lucky for her, she was like smart enough not to get it on her boob or arm or anywhere where she could get like fat and saggy. She's a smart cookie, that Carol.
But obviously not as smart as her oldest sister (she has 2 older siblings), who graduated from University of Texas (see, it IS the best state EVER) in 2002 with a civil engineering degree. Oh my gosh, we STILL have so much in common!! Oldest sister now works in Dallas for a large surveying company, (name unknown by Carol) doing the exact same thing as me (she seems to know exactly what I do, despite the fact that I have given her no details other than the fact that I work for a chemical company). Oldest sister decided to leave California to get away from her parents. Carol doesn't know why, she like LOVES her parents...but that's probably because the last child has more freedom. Parents like put like all the boundaries on the oldest and then the youngest get to like run around and do whatever. Carol would like totally move back home now. Awesome.
In addition to the fact that Carol is apparently from The Valley and thinks that we are BFF, she wanted to know all about my wedding plans and Tommy and why I am buying the car I am buying and if we were saving for a house and if so, were we going to buy in Texas? 'Cause really, Texas sucks.
Really, Carol, I just want to know what sort of interest rate I can get if I finance my car through your bank. I don't need to know the date of your last period or mother's maiden name. What's the interest rate? C'mon sister, like, what's it gonna be?
I am trying to buy a new car. Despite all the irritating salesmen (most of whos names I can't pronounce nor understand when they say them), I am actually enjoying the process. Buying a new big something is fun and it kind of gets your adrenaline pumping. I'm a fan.
I called my bank today to try to get financing and see what sorts of interest rates they were offering. I get a lady, who I CAN actually understand - which is totally bizarre and completely unheard of - so I am more friendly than usual with this particular customer service representative, we will call her Carol (because that's her name). So maybe this can be blamed on me...but I doubt it.
After a few minutes of explaining my situation, i.e. I want a loan for a new car, etc, etc, she starts to ask me questions. All (okay MOST) of which are valid. What's my address? Houston. Her response is to tell me about the last time she was in Texas there was like tennis ball size hail and it was 100 degrees outside...which means like that up in the sky in must have been like the size of basketball because it was so like hot. First of all, I don't know about the rest of you Texans, but I do not like to have my state dissed. This is the best state ever. She goes on to tell me that she lives in San Diego and the weather is always gorgeous and how she hears how awful it is in Texas and how she wouldn't live here if someone paid her. It just isn't her cup of tea, but obviously it suits you, she says.
A few more questions and then she wants to know my birthday - March 13, 1981. Oh, yayy she says, hers is on the 20th. WOW Carol, we have SO much in common. Did you know that about 1 out of every 12 people you meet has a birthday in the same month as you? Awesome. Like totally awesome. Well, in addition to having her birthday 3 days after St. Patty's day, and getting to drink left over green beer, the St. Pattys Day before her 21st birthday, she got wasted and got a four-leaf clover tattooed on her ankle. Lucky for her, she was like smart enough not to get it on her boob or arm or anywhere where she could get like fat and saggy. She's a smart cookie, that Carol.
But obviously not as smart as her oldest sister (she has 2 older siblings), who graduated from University of Texas (see, it IS the best state EVER) in 2002 with a civil engineering degree. Oh my gosh, we STILL have so much in common!! Oldest sister now works in Dallas for a large surveying company, (name unknown by Carol) doing the exact same thing as me (she seems to know exactly what I do, despite the fact that I have given her no details other than the fact that I work for a chemical company). Oldest sister decided to leave California to get away from her parents. Carol doesn't know why, she like LOVES her parents...but that's probably because the last child has more freedom. Parents like put like all the boundaries on the oldest and then the youngest get to like run around and do whatever. Carol would like totally move back home now. Awesome.
In addition to the fact that Carol is apparently from The Valley and thinks that we are BFF, she wanted to know all about my wedding plans and Tommy and why I am buying the car I am buying and if we were saving for a house and if so, were we going to buy in Texas? 'Cause really, Texas sucks.
Really, Carol, I just want to know what sort of interest rate I can get if I finance my car through your bank. I don't need to know the date of your last period or mother's maiden name. What's the interest rate? C'mon sister, like, what's it gonna be?
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
So sum up my anger on this day, view the email exchange from Tommy and I shown here. Some background:
-----Original Message-----
From: Tommy tommy@home.com
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 3:14 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension
Not cats? And velveeta?
-----Original Message-----
From: "Christy (CM)" christy@work.com
Date: Wed, 18 Jul 2007 16:02:59
To:Tommy tommy@home.com
Subject: RE: pension
Oh, and also my old landlord Karl. And Aetna. And mosquitos and bug repellant.
Christy
----------------
From: Tommy tommy@home.com
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 3:00 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension
Hahahaha. That's so much hate!
On 7/18/07, Christy (CM) Christy@work.com wrote:
Awesome. I hate Toyota and Allstate and Celso. And Ralph. And Liberty Mutual and Burnie. And all customer service people.
Christy
----------------
From: Tommy [mailto:tommy@homte.com]
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 2:34 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension
No word from Celso. And the effers already have taken my car apart, just waiting on the one part to come in. So I cant cancel. Toyotaman is checking status and calling me back.
On 7/18/07, Christy (CM) mailto:Christy@work.comwrote:
silly. I hate it. you know what else I hate? Celso Garcia's and Allstates. Did you ever hear back from Celso?
Christy
- Aetna is my medical insurance provider - they suck for not being able to actually fill precriptions.
- Celso Garcia is our new ADT security salesman - he sucks for being a totally incompetent at what he does.
- Burnie is the man who broke into our house (his name has been changed due to a lack of actually knowing his name) - he sucks because he is he broke into our house without my permission.
- Cats are evil.
- Velveeta cheese is wrong. American cheese is also wrong. Bleu and feta tie in their wrongness.
- Karl is my creepy old landlord who came into my house and rearranged my furniture.
- Ralph (Perez) is my other creepy landlord who bathes at BurgerKing and thinks that 'debris' is spelled 'dupree'. He is just an effing idiot.
- Toyotaman is the Toyota dealership that is changing the locks on Tommy's car - they have to order parts from Nigeria and have slaves strap the pieces to their backs and swim through the gulf to bring them here. It is estimated to take 4 weeks.
-----Original Message-----
From: Tommy tommy@home.com
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 3:14 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension
Not cats? And velveeta?
-----Original Message-----
From: "Christy (CM)" christy@work.com
Date: Wed, 18 Jul 2007 16:02:59
To:Tommy tommy@home.com
Subject: RE: pension
Oh, and also my old landlord Karl. And Aetna. And mosquitos and bug repellant.
Christy
----------------
From: Tommy tommy@home.com
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 3:00 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension
Hahahaha. That's so much hate!
On 7/18/07, Christy (CM) Christy@work.com wrote:
Awesome. I hate Toyota and Allstate and Celso. And Ralph. And Liberty Mutual and Burnie. And all customer service people.
Christy
----------------
From: Tommy [mailto:tommy@homte.com]
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 2:34 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension
No word from Celso. And the effers already have taken my car apart, just waiting on the one part to come in. So I cant cancel. Toyotaman is checking status and calling me back.
On 7/18/07, Christy (CM) mailto:Christy@work.comwrote:
silly. I hate it. you know what else I hate? Celso Garcia's and Allstates. Did you ever hear back from Celso?
Christy
Thursday, April 13, 2006
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