Thursday, December 31, 2009

Hasta La Vista, Asswipe 2009

Greetings, holiday goers. I trust you had a wonderful holiday, safe and sound, full of commercialism and travel. The wife and I survived quite nicely, despite the ice storm start. We made it to/from the Cheddarlands two times in four days and the family was able to get to us on Christmas Day without incident. (Going home, so I hear, was a bit dicey, but they did get home and all is well.)

BTW, have you ever read the words to Auld Lang Syne?
Woof. Now, that's a strange song. You really should google the lyrics. Make sure to read the lyrics from our era, not the original lyrics of the 1700's.

I started to look back at the year via the blog, then decided I really didn't want to read about not going to Mexico, not being successfully "saved," not losing the new-found weight, not talking about the place of which I do not speak. Actually, I am quite relieved to say adios to 2009. In fact, I have an urge to scream, "DON'T LET THE DOOR HIT YOU IN THE ASS on your way out, 2009." I am so happy about 2010 I want to weep.

Don't get me wrong--there were wonderful, fabulous, awesome things that happened in 2009.

I will say that spending my morning in a pile of snow was the perfect ending for this year. Summed it up just fine. The photo doesn't do justice to how stuck I was. That's all ice under there and I managed to dig quite the rut with my front wheel drive. The ice was shoved under the entire front of my car.

....I was on the way to see my Beloved Lady Chiropractor one last time this year and was unable to stop as I slid down the hill to the driveway. I left the car and walked to the appointment, only to find out My Beloved Lady Chiropractor wasn't there!!!!! I was distraught. I still got my adjustment, just not from her. Sigh. Another sad moment on the last day of the year.

For blogging purposes (and, as means of cheap therapy), I decided I would distract myself by reflecting on my ever-so-favorite New Year's Eve party, called "No Shoes, No Booze" of 1995 (or, do you say 1996, as that is the year it was becoming?) instead of reflecting on 2009. The wife feels otherwise about this blessed event, as she was not entertained about me throwing a bowling ball off the deck, so she may rather think about 2009. To each their own.

I have written about No Shoes, No Booze party before but I've never featured photos, so I have to write about it again. I scanned this puppies in quickly while no one was looking at the place of which I do not speak. (I will deny everything.) I did get kinda freaked out when thinking about how long ago it was we had this party, but I'm over it now.

The concept was simple: you had to take your shoes off and there was no alcohol at the party. Lest you think it was a lame bust, I assure you we had plenty of party goers, as evidenced by the pile of shoes displayed at the front door. I tend to think the highlight of the party was me wrapping my bowling ball in tin foil and then launching it off the back porch. I did it to pretend we had our own New Year's ball dropping, like they do in Times Square. Okay, okay--I admit that was a stupid thing to do--it's hard to safely shot put a 14 pound bowling ball over one's head and into the night and I think I ripped about 12 different muscles, but it sure looked cool and was mighty fun and it's something no one will forget.

There will be no bowling ball launch this year.

We will be ringing in the new year with Cheeseball neighbor, her gaywad gal pal and Brown Dog, plus their closest 5000 friends. They are featuring a "no shoes" theme, but I'm pretty sure there will be alcohol.

....We don't have to drive, so I won't be stuck in any snow banks as the new year arrives. Hasta La Vista, 2009. Happy New Year, beloved Addiverse visitors!

Thursday, December 24, 2009

T minus three hours: The Iceman Cometh, Part II

Oh, the weather outside is frightful...

...actually, it was more frightful inside than outside, once we figured out the power was off.

Merry Christmas Eve Morning, by the way. Isn't this a beautiful photo? Well, besides the problem the ice causes. I love the way the neighbor's light shines off the icy trees. Fire on ice!

We probably wouldn't have known the power was out until later in the morning had Lucy not been licking. It's a horribly annoying habit she has and it wakes up the wife....so, Lucy's licking led to the wife getting out of bed to whack her....which led to the wife spying Freckles in the corner shaking like a leaf. I considered Freckles behavior and knew that something had happened--she's a smart cookie who "talks" to us via her neurotic behaviors. It dawned on me: when our power goes out, all the little smoke detectors give off a quick "beep" sound and I am here to tell you Freckles is terrified of that little beep sound. When the wife mentioned something was wrong with Freckles and I opened an eye to peek about, I realized that indeed something was wrong: it was too dark and too quiet.

I got my sorry ass out of bed and took a gander--not a light to be seen. We had no power.

Boy, talk about relying on power. Can't use the land line phone, cuz there's no power. Can't use the computer, cuz there's no power for the modem/router. Can't watch the Weather Channel cuz there's no power. Can't use the cell phone too much because I didn't re-charge it before going to bed. Can't go anyway, cuz there's no power to open the garage door. Can't make coffee, so no point in getting out of bed. Can't turn the heat up because......

Can't turn the heat up....or on. That got my attention. We keep the house cold at night, which is all fine and dandy for sleeping, but when the power goes out and there is nothing to re-heat the house in the morning, well that's a different story. It was 59 degrees in the house when I got up at 4 A.M. That sounded a lot colder when I thought about how there was no heat to come back on and warm things up.

Then, I realize it's pouring out....which is never a good thing with no electricity to pump that sump pump. I tried not to fret, because there was nothing to be done about that. I contemplated a trip to Wally World to buy a generator and a car charger plug thingy for my cell phone, but who am I kidding? I know nothing about generators and I'd have to get a non-electric one and....I let that idea go. The cell phone car charger thingy could wait.

The wife began fretting about the food in the frig, but I have to say that was of little concern to me; after all, it's easy to stick the food outside or in the garage when it's winter.

I had the wife get her cell phone and Com Ed's phone number. I gave a quick call, just to make sure they knew we were sitting in the dark, wide awake, freezing. Then, we did something we almost never, ever do: we put the dogs in bed with us. They are like little heaters. I know we will pay for this later, as Lucy only takes one time to learn a bad behavior, but little heaters are very nice company when the power is out.

Suffice it to say, two hours later we heard the faintest of beeps and then....then, the sweet sound of the heater kicking in. Praise the baby Jesus and the Com Ed crew! We weren't going to freeze on Christmas Eve, after all. I quickly plugged in my cell phone, fired up the computer and started the coffee. (I also ate chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, which always makes everything that much better.)

It could have been so much worse. I am worried about the poor white birch in the front yard--only time will tell if it will make it or not. (Last time, it was the river birch that lost a huge limb and portion of the trunk.) The Mold Mobile is a giant ice cube. Can't wait for that to melt, cuz it will all pour into the car, making more mold for us to inhale. Yum!

Duty to warn: I am going to kiss the next Com Ed person I see. What a lousy night to be out. What a wonderful job well done. Wipe that ice off your face and pucker up!

Now, we are off to the Cheddarlands. Yes, we are going to set forth, bravely armed with gifts and survival supplies. (Would be robbers, stay away: Cheeseball Neighbor and Brown dog are on the prowl--they got us covered.) It will be slow going but it should be relatively okay. I'm sure there will be many fun stories to be shared.

I hope you are doing okay, that your power is on and that your computer is working. After all, I'd hate for your crops to rot on Book de la Face's farm just because you couldn't harvest them due to a lack of power.

Merry Christmas Eve. I hear Santa is in New Zealand at this moment. Happy Birthday, baby Jesus; Thank you Com ed. Ho ho ho!
*********************************************************************

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

T minus 15 hours--The Ice Storm Cometh


Before lamenting about the ice storm going on outside at this very moment, I would like to take this opportunity to profess my undying dedication to my beloved lady chiropractor. I am happy to report that Master Pastor Reiki strolled in to MBLC's office and came out all cracked up...er, adjusted, quite to her satisfaction. 

Now, Master Pastor knows her stuff, so a compliment from MPR regarding MBLC is quite the stamp of approval. My cockles just get warmed thinking about it. No, that is not MBLC, but I liked the photo, so what the heck. MBLC is much more delicious than that. 

Ah, only 15 or so hours til Christmas Eve festivities in the Cheddarlands. The problem? The weather. If it were normal, everyday winter weather (aka snow, cold, wind), it really wouldn't be a problem. But, the stuff falling from the sky--and that is literally coating the roads--is ice, and plenty of it. See that pink stuff in the picture (as afforded to me by the Channel de la Weather). There isn't much we can do about it. We can stare at the Weather Channel. We can check the road conditions. We can refresh the Road Conditions web page, but it's not going to change anything. We just have to wait. 

  If the precipitation were only as "big" as what is on this map, that wouldn't be a problem for tomorrow. If the precipitation were going anywhere but due north, that would also not be a problem. If we were only going an hour or something away, it wouldn't be as traumatic. Alas, the blob you can't see is ginormous and it's all going north like it's looking for Santa's home and we're supposed to be going three hours (on a normal day) north with the pink blob. Of course, when we get there, we have to turn around and come home. That's potentially six hours--or more--of sheer terror. 

  But, as we all know, the weather has a mind of its own. The weather has us by the balls. There is no guarantee the weather will do what it is said to be set to do. It makes fools of weathermen. It is more unpredictable than my hairdos. So, all of the wife's family are, understandably, in a tizzy. Everyone has to travel to get to the Christmas Eve festivities. Everyone has to wait to see what will transpire, but in the meantime, everyone has to get ready as if we will really be making the trip. 

While thinking for Christmas Eve morning and while waiting to see what the weather will bring, we plan on watching television (that's productive), staring out the window (to make sure no tree limbs have crashed to the ground as they did during our last ice storm), heckling Book de la Friend via status updates and watching Xena reruns on my computer (well, I'll be doing that--the wife will pass on this activity). I tried doing some walking with Leslie Sansone but I lost interest after two miles, so that' wasn't a very good distraction. My knee hurts so I have to pass on "seeing" my gal pal Jillian. It's too icy to see if MBLC has evening hours to work on my knee. I could take the new little electric snow blower outside and see how it reacts to 1/2 of ice on the driveway but that doesn't sound like a good idea. T minus 15 hours. Can't wait to see what Local on the 8's brings us tomorrow morning....

Friday, December 18, 2009

Get off the Couch: T-minus one week

Why get off the couch and go holiday shopping when there is blogging and non-productive farming to be had?
 
Here's a few photos of our backyard from the recent snow fall AND a big holiday wish from Terri Clark to you. She has nothing to do with this blog except that I really like her music and that this "card" came to my email and thus I must share it with you. I must admit that I like it better when she wears her hat but the wife finds her quite fine without it. You really should take a listen to her new album....




The owl is back!
I am way excited. While walking the dogs early this morning, I heard the hoo-hoo-hooooot of our friendly owl. Then, while getting dressed, I heard him calling from the back yard. You may not be enthralled by this, but I am. I mean, it's not like we live in the woods. He (she?) shows up every year just in time for the snow. For those of you who don't know of my owl antics (or about my love of owl poop, which is really not poop at all), please refer to (after reading this blog entry, of course!): http://addiwp.blogspot.com/2007/12/hoo-hoo-owl-poop-first-may-i-say-my-new.html


The wife scored us some Carrie Underwood tickets for late this spring. What a woman! We'll be going with Pastor Master Reiki, Blue Eyes and those gaywad neighbors. It's really interesting how they sell concert ticket these days--it's all about the "pre-sale." What a crock of owl poop! You pay to join a fan club, you get a special code, you get to buy tickets before the general public. Other concerts give you pre-sale access if you sign up for their email alerts. Seems like all the concerts do something like this now. Since we don't belong to anything special, we will not be up close and personal with Carrie's leather pants--we'll have to settle for dancing in our seats while staring at the jumbo-tron. The wife is VERY excited, to say the least. (Carrie will not be wearing a cowboy hat, unlike Terri Clark in concert.)

Being the concert whore that I am, I'm joining MJagger & her sister for a Black Eyed Peas concert in the spring. Purchasing BEP tickets also involved pre-sale nonsense, only for that one you had to have an American Express card AND join the club. Geez. What happened to standing in line waiting to buy the actual ticket? I remember waiting for Vince Gill tickets back in 1995....we waiting outside the venue, freezing our tails off...5 AM in line for tickets going on sale at 10 AM. There was no wimpy Internet ticket buying nor was there the cell phone while on the Internet tactic. Are there even actual Ticketmaster outlets anymore? Anyone remember standing in line at Colonial Village to get seats for a concert? Quarterflash, Loverboy, The Motels, Styx, REO Speedwagon, Foreigner....all tickets purchased at the mall. (Oh dear, I am really dating myself here--by the bands, not the ticket-buying part. Dare I even mention the Michael Stanley Band? Probably not. Only three or four of you--if I'm lucky--will know who the hell they were.)

As mentioned a few blogs ago, I went on line and bought us a new snow blower. I think I neglected to mention that it is a teeny, weeny electric snow blower. I wish you could've seen the wife's face when she took it out of the box. She muttered something about the tires looking like something for toys (which is actually an accurate description of said wheels). I have to tell you, though--that puppy plowed through that last snow blast. As noted, the photos depicted here are from our first major snow storm faced by the snow blower. If it can make it through eight inches of wet snow, I think it can make it through the season--as long as I don't run over the electric cord. It's light weight, it doesn't need a mix of gas/oil, I don't smell like a diesel truck when I'm done and it cleans the drive way better than the big, smelly snow blower did. Go figure. For those of you who enjoyed the "I sucked the neighbors' Christmas lights into the new snow blower" story, be sure to 'flashback' to that blog entry. It's such a great story, I might have to "run" it again (I should probably make it an annual event); but, for now you can check it out via link: http://addiwp.blogspot.com/2006/12/friendly-neighbor-with-snow-blower.html

Finally, for no known reason, I am closing this blog entry with this precious diddy (below), for no reason other than it made me laugh. I know, I know, it's gross. At least we know it's not owl poop.

T-minus one week, people! Get out there with me tomorrow and shop!

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Bear Down, Chicago Bears!

Be warned, men: there is WAY too much information included in this blog. You squeamish guys who don't want to hear about certain womanly issues should turn away now, no matter how much you love the Bears.

Well, the Bears may have lost to Green Bay last Sunday but it didn't stop me from having a great time at Soldier Field. The wife was in her glory with a Packer win, but I'm not sure she had as much fun as I did--worrying about your team takes its toll. That's the beauty about cheering for the Bears--they suck, so you don't really expect them to win. You just bitch about them losing and call it a day.

In preparation for my first trip to Soldier Field, we went on a shopping spree only a hunter or a outdoor sportsman could love. I found an awesome pair of winter boots at Gander-at-that-Mountain, home of the snow-boot-for-25-degrees-below-zero-weather; although they cost more than I wanted to spend, I knew they would keep my tootsies toasty and was glad that they were not camouflage. I also bought some new socks, some of those hand-warmer thingies and a new orange and blue hat. Yummy!

My second line of defense would be layers--lots of them. I had it all planned out--base layer of long-underwear; second layer of "normal" clothes (jeans and sweater); outer layer of snow pants and Bears jacket. I knew it was "scarf" day at the game, so I'd also don my new, free, orange & blue scarf. This all sounded good in theory and I was quite impressed with my planning, until......

......I woke up with a surprise. Yes, ladies---under all those layers, I would be dealing with a monthly womanly delight. Now, THERE'S some fun at a football game where you are dressed like the kid in "A Christmas Story." The thought of having to take off all those layers to go to a public bathroom made me break out in a cold sweat. So much for my planned limitation of liquid intake--it wouldn't matter, as I'd have to go to the bathroom while at the game. Might as well drink up that hot chocolate in the $6.50 commemorative cup.

Men, you cannot appreciate this. Women, feel my pain!

Armed with warm clothes, money, parking pass, tickets and tampons, we hopped in the car nice and early, as suggested by our ticket-giving neighbors. The goal, they explained to us, was to beat the traffic jam. As they are seasoned Bears-game-goers, we took their advice and got to the parking lot by 9:30 AM. (I hear many a fan has missed the beginning of the game due to being stuck in traffic.) We did indeed miss the traffic and we scored a great parking space. Unbelievably to us, the lot was filled with tail-gating football fans at this early hour. Beer flowing, bags flying, grills grilling--it was an explosion of blue and orange. Even more unbelievably, there was a ton of green and gold milling about in the Parking lot--in fact, I'd guess a fourth of the people in the lot (and, at the game) were Packer fans. And, here I was afraid the wife would be in danger due to her decision to wear her packer coat--instead, she was safely surrounded by her peeps.

Once we left the car, we were exposed to the elements. Unlike Lambeau Field, Soldier Field does not have any "indoor" areas offering shelter from the cold. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as cold as I thought it would be--the temp hovered around 35 degrees--which is quite balmy for Chicago in December. Those new boots and all those layers kept me warm and dry.

We wandered around the tail-gate area and enjoyed the sites before entering the hallowed halls of Soldier Field. (If you click on the photo collage above, you can get a closer look at the photos.) We saw a little of everything. Everyone seemed festive and jolly, even though Chicago fans are basically bitter and angry people. Before the game, they are happy and smiling--during and after the game, it's a hate fest. The wife still can't get over that part of the event.

I'm not sure why they (whoever they are) decided to "upgrade" and make Soldier Field look like a giant space ship, but they did and it is indeed quite the site, from inside and out. It was still awe-inspiring to be at Soldier Field, home of Walter Payton, Dick Butkus, Gayle Sayers and the fifty some quarterbacks that have played for the Bears in the last ten minutes...

After snarfing down a pizza (God, I love Chicago for its pizza) and after finding the wife a hot dog (which basically sucked, per her report-- it wasn't a true Chicago hot dog and so she was very disappointed but ate it anyways--she said she had paid too much to throw it away), we found our way to our seats. We were able to see everything from our perch--it was awesome. Man, we love our neighbors!

The wife was lucky enough to be seated next to a Bears fan who just happened to have four Packer players on his fantasy football team; hence, he found himself cheering for both teams. (Fantasy football sure makes football-watching that much more interesting, if you ask me. The wife feels otherwise.)

While the pre-game antics were in full gear, I kept putting out the thought that there would be an Air Force fly-by at the end of the Star Spangled Banner. I mean, come on: is there any better way to start a football game than with the roar of fighter jets? We stood, sang, put our hats back on....damn, no fly by. Just as I was about to sit down for the start of the game, I heard them---the jets were coming! Better a few seconds late than never. They swooped in from the south, gave the crowd a thrill and roared off to the north, finishing their fly-by with a criss-cross move. NOW the game could begin!

I must admit, the most entertaining part of the game was when a very drunk man (sitting two people to my right) managed to fall over into the row in front of him, falling directly on some small woman--who promptly let out a blood-curdling scream.....the guy ended up with his feet literally in the air, his head on the cement between the rows. He kept yelling, "I'm all right!" while his feet flayed in the air. He was not able to get up on his own--he required help from several fans to right himself. Thankfully, the smooshed woman was no worse for the wear. Once it was determined she was fine, the ribbing began. That man didn't hear the end of it for the remainder of the game, deservedly so.

As for the rest of the crowd, there was a lot of yelling, moaning, bitching, whining, spewing, threatening. Chicago fans are serious about their sports and they do not take kindly to losing teams, losing coaches, losing seasons. The wife was quite enthralled--she'd never experienced anything like it. If I were Lovie, I'd need therapy. Everyone wants him fired or worse. Like I said, Chicago fans are brutal. (It was rumored there were so many Packer fans at this game because the season ticket holders were boycotting and thus sold their tickets.)

Anyone who knows me knows that we didn't stay for the end of the game. I'm so predictable. We left so I could get out of the lot without incident and so I could get to a bathroom sooner than later. Hey, I drive a stick shift car and I had my period--no need to make things more stressful than they might be. Have you ever been in stop-and-go Chicago traffic in an automatic? We zipped out of there and were back on the expressway before the wife could even get the game tuned in on the A.M. dial.....

....we listened as the Bears lost....again (or, the Packers won, depending on your point of view). Oh well--in the words of Cubs fans, "there's always next year."

I can't wait to use my commemorative cup.....maybe when the wife's family visits.....
***********************************************************

Friday, December 11, 2009

Ahoy, Matey! Is that a Pirate by the Copy Machine?


I've been snookered! Hustled! Fooled!

Many, I hate when that happens. I consider myself a savvy consumer.....

Although I do not write about the place of which I work, I cannot pass up the chance to talk about
"Toner Pirates." I want the world to be on the look out for these very naughty scammers.

We were out of toner for the copier, so I called our Office manager, as she is in charge of such things. As we were also having problems with the copier, she set up a visit from the fabulous copy machine technician as well as put in an order for toner.

Later that day, I get a call from the Copier Company. The guy asks for me by name, then confirms I just ordered toner. As I have just done that, I agree that I have ordered toner. He confirms the model of the machine--I don't tell him, he tells me what copier I have--he is correct, so I confirm this. He asks if he can ship out the toner; of course I agree. For crying out loud, I just asked for toner, didn't I? He tells me my address--he is right. I am assured my toner is being sent out as ordered.

I go back to my work and think nothing more of this.

Later that day, I see Mr. Copy Man but pay no attention to him. He fixes the machine and leaves. I don't ask him any questions, don't see any boxes, don't think anything about it. I'm just happy the machine works.

A day or two later, the toner arrives. There is no invoice, but I don't think anything of it. I just unwrap the cartridge, remove the old cartridge, put in the new cartridge. Problem solved, world turns, work continues.

Today--ten days later--I go to my mailbox and find an bill. It's from some company I have never heard of.....it's for the toner. I take the bill to my office so I can type up a purchase order....I start the PO, look at the bill for the price.....

.....and see I just purchased a cartridge of copier toner for $459.00.

I re-read it, thinking the decimal must be misplaced....but, no it's $459.00. I find this to be really absurd, but I've never paid for toner before--the invoice has always gone directly to the Office Manager. This gets me thinking--hey, why DID I get this bill, anyways? I finish the PO and decide it's time to drive to the office and talk to the person who can answer the questions: Queen of the Office Supplies (QoOS).

I hand the PO and bill to QoOS, explain that I got it today and that I found it crazy that toner costs $459.00. She has this look on her face that suggests I have lost my mind and am no longer speaking English. Clear as day she says: "We don't pay for toner. It's part of our copier agreement."

Huh?

She takes a closer look at the bill. I explain that I got a call from the company on the same day she ordered the toner, that they knew what kind of machine I had, knew my mailing info and my name, knew that I had ordered toner. I do not understand any if this. QoOS grabs the phone and calls our copier company.

It is confirmed: I am the victim of Toner Pirates!!


Who the hell thinks of these things and how the hell did they know all that information? I have NEVER heard of a toner pirate until this very minute.

In case you think this is a random thing, be assured this is quite the elaborate scam and is not at all unusual. These guys are masters--the copier company assured us that it is quite the business racket: "....operated a classic "toner pirate" scheme, sometimes called "toner hustlers" or "toner phoners." Toner pirates call churches, charities, day-care centers, nursing homes and small businesses and use carefully worded scripts to trick victims into thinking the call is coming from the victim's regular office supply company". (http://www.iowa.gov/government/ag/consumer/press_releases/toner.html)

While standing there with QoOS, it hits me: not only have I been snookered, I have replaced a perfectly good cartridge with the $459 one.....I learn that the copier guy had replaced the toner when he was on site and left no trace....so, me not knowing this, thought he just fixed the copier and was waiting for the toner to be delivered as usual, figuring I'd change out the cartridge when it came in the mail.

Making things worse: even though this all transpired ten days ago, I hadn't thrown away any of the packaging or the toner cartridge.....until literally yesterday afternoon. Of course, the cleaning company came last night and removed the garbage...and, of course the garbage trucks came and emptied the dumpster by the time I figure this all out. A perfectly good toner cartridge gone with the wind.

For the record, those puppies are heavy. I didn't shake it or weigh it or anything. It's not like I replace copier cartridges every day. I wouldn't know if it was full or empty....

Thankfully, QoOS finds this all very humorous, as does my boss (of which I do not speak but since I am employed, I obviously have a boss and thus it's no surprise I have a boss). Seems they have both been snookered about office supplies in the past, too. Who knew there was such a big business about screwing companies through such simple schemes?

I don't want any of you getting scammed by such naughty people. We are all on the lookout for the credit card scams and on-line scams but who thinks of office supply scams? I am here to educate and save you beloved readers in the Addiverse! For more information, check out sites such as http://www.integratedofficesolutions.com/TonerPirates.html, who write:

"As in the days of the real pirates, the "Toner Pirate" many times pretends to be someone they are not. They will claim to be from "your normal supplier", "the warehouse that ships the toner for your supplier", and in some cases they will even use the name of the dealer where you purchased your equipment....Toner Pirates usually work in groups and may use a three call approach....The first call is innocuous enough to an unsuspecting individual, they call "to verify the make and model" of your copier/printer.....For those who have fallen prey, what they get is a big surprise. The price can be four to five times the normal price and in some instances the amount of toner in the cartridge is half what it is supposed to be."

Shiver me timbers! A pirate's life is not for me.


QoOS is sending the cartridge back and assures me we will not be charged for this. Don't ask; just know that it's covered and if anyone can rectify this situation, it's her. she's also going to follow through with legal avenues. Don't be messing with QoOS, damn pirates! You know not who you are messing with.

As for you, readers of the Addiverse--if a toner pirate or toner phoner fools you as they did me, I'll stand proudly next to you and even wear an eye patch and a parrot if it will make you feel any better. Just don't open the box and don't replace the full toner. Arrrg! *********************************************************

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

I'm too old for this

I forgot one of my cardinal rules: I am of an age that demands a four or more star-rated hotel room.

In a game-time decision, I decided to stay in a hotel during this week's business outing. I could have easily stayed with my parents, but no--I went with the "just down the street hotel," for my winter weather convenience.

As I am an Internet whore, I went on line and found a cheap hotel in the area I wanted to stay AND in an area of which I was familiar. I read the reviews and found them to be rather generous for something that had been rated two stars by the website. Mind you, I've been very spoiled by recent hotel stayings--we stay at places like "W," Westin.... the "lower end" of our star chain being a Doubletree with warm chocolate chip cookies; we gave up two star hotels years and years ago. We're just too old (and waaaaay too sober) to be sleeping in gross hotel rooms with pillows that smell like beer and bedding that features cigarette burns....or, worse. Give me a pillow top mattress with big, fluffy pillows and white, fluffy robes any day.

Lest you think I'm kidding about the beer-flavored pillow, I assure you the wife and I have enjoyed such an adventure. Thankfully, we were in our 20's and didn't care or know better. The places we stayed during softball tournaments would bring a little vomit into your throat. Or, we could talk about the Jackson, Mississippi Lodge of Econo, where the cock roaches were literally looking down upon me from the headboard....and, that was during day light hours. Grand Canyon Black Toes can confirm that I am not making this up or exaggerating one bit.

I shall not mention the Six Motel in Texarkana where the softball team broke a picture window by accident because we were wearing pillowcases on our heads.....oh, never mind....

After my business training, I zipped over to the local Pan-Pan-air-ah, stuffed my face with their delicious fare, did a lap around the mall and then pulled up to the hotel. It was located exactly where I thought it would be and thus I was delighted. Once I entered the building, I felt my excitement wane. Not exactly "W" material.

The adage, "you get what you pay for" quickly and deservedly came to mind.

I focused on the really cheap price and signed in for the night. Cheap, cheap, convenient, cheap, cheap.....

Now, I can't say the room was technically gross or dirty & it probably was just about right for a two-star hotel. It just was not what I am accustomed to when staying in a hotel. Call me spoiled, call me snobbish, just don't call me for a bed bug check.

I surveyed the lands, decided to open the window (hmmmm, a hotel room with a window that opens--haven't seen that for awhile), kept my shoes on, threw the comforter on the floor (the wife taught me that's the first thing you should always do), and inspected the bed for bugs, burns and beer stains. I thought about turning around and going directly to my parents, but there is no refund when you've checked in after 6 PM on an Internet reservation. I decided to be brave and stay, just like in the olden days.....

....but first, a trip to Bull's Eye was in order.

I drove to the store and contemplated my needs. Bottled water: check. Germ wipe towelette things: Check. Lysol spray: check. Protein bar: check (need breakfast, you know). "Off" Bug spray.....hmmm--fights chiggers, fleas, mosquitoes, flies....check!

I took my purchases back to my luscious accommodations and de-germed the piss out of that room. The wife would have been so proud.

I am not ashamed to admit that I covered the pillow with some pads meant for the butts of adults with incontinence issues. (See? There is a reason I have those stupid things in my trunk. You never know when you'll have to cover a used pillow so you can sleep on it without fear.) I am not embarrassed to tell you I slept covered with a towel instead of the sheet. I won't blush when I tell you I drown that bed with Lysol or that I slept with my pajama bottom legs tucked in my socks. I kept my shoes on at all times except when in bed. I scrubbed that remote like there was no tomorrow and I sat in no chair with upholstery. I cleaned the counter and put my laptop on the hard surface, giving me distraction from my surroundings.

It was a long night, more because of the Lysol fall out cloud than anything. It turned out to be a quiet place, comfortable enough, safe. Nothing appeared to attach itself to me nor did I seem to have any unidentified bites on any of my body parts. Had I not had to pee, I probably would've slept through the night. I blame the sinus headache on the ball of Lysol I inhaled all night, not due to anything the hotel did or didn't do.

Two stars. Okay, I'll give you that.....

.....just please don't let me do that to myself again. I'm sticking with four stars or higher. This princess needs her amenities.....

Ouch! Did something just bite me?
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Saturday, December 05, 2009

Bears vs. Packers, Here we Come!

For those of you that don't know, I was born and bred in the jurisdiction of the Chicago Bears, so it's been a long (Lambeau) leap to hang out with the wife's ever-loving, all-residing Cheddar heads without guilt and shame. As evidenced in this picture, I have indeed embraced the ways of the wife, as it not only assures my place with the in-laws, it also has allowed me to attend some awesome professional football games in a town that loves football more than life itself. (It's a terrible photo of me but what the hell--I'm in the land of green and gold and I was freezing and I was pouring hot chocolate down my pants in an effort to get warm--it illustrates my dedication to the wife and her beliefs as well as illustrates my interest in attending professional football games....) I grew up in the landing pattern of O'Hare, far away from Vince Lombardi and the Frozen Tundra. I grew up eating Gene & Jude "rubber dawgs," not some brat product. In other words, deep down inside, little blobs of blue and orange blood pulse through my veins.

So, last night we are eating dinner with the gaybors and they ask us if we would like their Bear vs. Packers tickets for next weekend at Soldier Field. I thought I might have guacamole in my ears--I could have sworn they just ask us if we wanted their tickets so we could go to Soldier Field for a Bears/Packers game......

The look on the wife's face assured me I had heard correctly. Tickets to Soldier Field! Wow! I think I was speechless. At least, I don't remember speaking. I was too surprised and excited to think or speak. Yup, the gaybors were giving us their tickets (and parking pass!) to the game, as they have a conflicting commitment.

Is life good or what?!

I've never been to a Bears Game nor have I been to Soldier Field. I've been to a whole slew of Cubs games, I've even been to two (dear god) White Sox games (I've never admitted that til this moment), but never a Bears game. I've always wanted to go to a game there but have never made it, for one reason or another. I've driven by Soldier Field a bunch of times but have never been inside.

The thought of seeing the wife's beloved Packers playing the Bears in Soldier Field is almost enough to make my ovaries shoot out all their remaining eggs.

We are going to the Bears/Packers Game!

The wife inquired what might happen to her if she wore her Packer Paraphernalia to the game; the gaybors seemed to think it would be okay. I'm a bit more skeptical, but will go with whatever is decided. Just to be on the safe side, I'll keep the car keys--if Bears fans come crashing down on her, I can quickly (and with much cowardice) run away, jump in the car and scream down the Eisenhower, all the way professing my allegiance to Halas.

I, on the other hand, will proudly sport blue and orange, complete with my stadium length Bears coat my parents gave me many a Christmas ago. No green and gold for me. This game is all about the Monsters of the Midway, of Sweetness and of Sayers, of nasal Chicago accents and Chicago traffic jams.

It is also about dressing warmly. December in Chicago can be brutal. (Or, it can be in the 60's. One never knows.) Layers. I'll have to dress in layers. I know I'll be cold, I know I will whine, I know I will lose feeling in my feet....

....but, I also know that I will be one mighty happy Chi-caw-goan that day and know that my frozen toes are only temporary.

Note to the wife: next Sunday, I will be orange and blue and will remember what I was brought up to believe:

"I have two favorite football teams--The Bears and anyone who beats the Packers.
"

Amen.
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Wednesday, December 02, 2009

The Bitch is Back

WHAT was I thinking????

Maybe I was thinking: "My new pants don't fit and I have to do SOMETHING about it."

Maybe I was thinking: "Gee, I'm not seeing my Beloved Lady Chiropractor enough these days--maybe I should try to trash my knee for the holidays."

Or, maybe I was thinking: "It's all MJagger's fault. Her injury is prohibiting me from working out." (Blame others--a tried and true method. Why I can't walk without her while she's on the injured reserve list is beyond me.)

Maybe it was a moment of weakness...or one too many Biggest Loser Episodes....or, a moment of perimenopausal hysteria.....

Whatever I was thinking, all I can tell you is the Bitch is BACK!

While shopping on line (supposedly for the holidays and birthdays), I came upon Jillian's two "new" workout DVDs. I could have easily navigated away from the page. I could have easily redirected myself back on my task of buying gifts on line. I could have run to the frig and stuffed a bag of Dove Dark Chocolate in my mouth. I could have clicked on the Book de la Face tab and began harvesting my crops.....

But, no. No, I clicked on the reviews and read them. Hmmmm, sounds like these are good work-outs......I noticed that the DVDs were on sale, complete with free shipping. I thought about how MJagger and I haven't been able to walk and how I'm a little bored with my favorite walker DVD Leslie (no offense to Leslie--just having a moment of weakness) and how I can't walk alone after work because it's dark and.....

....the next thing I knew, Jillian's work-out DVDs were in my cart and the order had been processed and I blacked out.

I was on my way to Jillian hell.


Those of you who are regular readers know this is a bad, bad thing (well, unless you are my chiropractor--then it's a great thing). It took me HOW many months to get my knee back in working order after doing Jillian's 30 day Shred???

It did WHAT to my buttocks? That 30 day shred blew those glutes right out of my pants.

It took me HOW LONG to break up with her, despite the pain and agony she brought me?

Well, she's back and you know I can't say no to her.

When I got home from work, I saw the box from Warrior.com (aka that website where you used to buy books but now buy everything) sitting on the stoop (complete with two dog treats rubber banded onto the box--our mail lady rocks). I was foolishly excited to see that my Jillian had arrived. Jillian squared, that is--two DVDs!

I opened the "Banish Fat" DVD first, thinking it'd be better to start with the one that didn't require using weights. (BTW, I HATE the packaging on CDs and DVD boxes. You have no idea how many finger nails I have broken trying to open those stupid things.) I skimmed the back of the box, seeing that the work-out should take about 45 minutes. No problem--MJagger and I have been walking 12 minute miles for three miles--that's kind of like doing a 45 minute workout. I looked at the front of the case: "Lose up to Five Pounds a Week!" Hmmm, doubt that, don't wanna do that, just want my pants to fit. (Well, and keep my healthy heart healthy. I suppose that would be on the top of my exercise-to-do list.) I ran upstairs, peed, put on my shorts, slapped on my sports bra (can't work out in my favorite Wally World Sponge Bobs bra) and ran downstairs to start the DVD.

I began the workout, all the while trying to keep my knee attached to my body. I was very careful and promised myself I wouldn't do any of the squatty things; rather, I would jog in place. I told myself to take it slow and easy. And, that was only during her introduction.

Suffice it to say, I made it through most of the workout. Okay, okay, so I skipped Circuit Six. Well, and part of Circuit Four--or, was it Five? But, otherwise, I did fine. Well, besides my knee hurting a bit when doing those moguls. I did at one point think about how I am not going to be able to walk tomorrow but I quickly forgot about that due to my inability to breathe while doing ab work. Not being able to breathe is a good distraction for anything.

I figure if I do a Jillian tape twice a week, walk twice a week outside and once a week inside (I won't forsake you, Leslie), I'll be good to go, my pants will fit, my heart will be strong AND I'll be able to continue my love affair with chocolate extreme blizzards......

I am already scheduled to see my Beloved Lady Chiropractor this week. It's my "once a month" check-up. I was going to give her a Christmas card while there because I won't see her again til after the holidays, but....

.....I think I'll hang on to the card, as I'm pretty certain I'll be needing additional chiropractic services before the holidays. After all, the Bitch is Back.....is that my knee making little whimpering noises?
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