Can I have those 2 hours back now?

Sunday I tried to connect to the internet from home, only to discover a bad connection.  I reset the modem, re-booted, all that good stuff, but no luck.  Knowing that this would now require a call to AT&T, the thought of which always curdles my blood and is a task equivalent of being stuck on the runway in an airplane for 8 hours, I opted to wait until Monday to call.

In the meantime, Tom discovered the cable that runs from the pole to the house laying in two pieces in the back yard.  At least I could be armed with knowledge when I made the call on Monday.

That was yesterday.

I called the number for “repair services” listed on my bill.  The automated voice, after asking and receiving answers of a few questions noted that I really needed to have called another number, but no worries, he’d connect me to the “AT&T Internet Services” number, which, I’ll point out is also on my bill.

I answered a few more of his questions, and then we got to the Mind-the-Chasm question: “Please say why you are calling. “  I said the wrong thing, apparently, and though I was told I was being directed to an agent, I fell into the chasm.

After listening to silence for several minutes, wondering if I were truly on hold, I hung up, called back and started the process again (from the AT&T Internet Services number).   By now, this call has eaten about 20 minutes of my time and I haven’t even talked to a person yet.

Finally, a person answers.  We confirm the information I told Autoguy. I explain the nature of my problem, including a description of the snapped cable.  She starts to put a ticket in and then asks for my modem model.  I explain that I’m at work and that information is not available to me.  She explains that she can’t put the ticket in without it.  I explain again that I’m at work.  She says it would be better if I had the model # and I agreed that may be true, but unfortunately we were going to have to do without it at this time. We are about at the 30 minute mark and I explain to her that I will not go through this process again from home so we had 3 options:

1) Put the ticket in without the modem model number.

2) Let me talk to someone who can.

3) I cancel my service.

She opts for item 2.  And then, very passive agressively I am left on hold for 10 more minutes.  Pedro or Jorge or whatever his name was gets on the phone, requires me to repeat some relavent information, uses all the good customer services tricks like calling me ma’am and Miss and starting every sentence with an apology, and assures me that we’ll get this taken care of, which does not have the intended effect, because every time he started a sentence with an apology and an assurance he ate up another 15 seconds.

And then he puts me on hold.  For another 10 minutes.  When he returns he presents me with What Will Happen Now, a jumble of words like schedule and phone call, I’m sure made jumbly by my impatience.  Whatever.  I get it. Someone will call me and then I’ll have to call or someone will call me twice or something like that.

Once our business was complete, Pedro or Jorge spent another 4 minutes saying goodbye.  Seriously.  He was worse than my husband.

As promised, I did receive a phone call.  From Autoguy who informed me pleasantly that they checked my line and no problems were found.  If I took issue with that I could call a number and discuss it with a technician, but ONLY if I had a ticket number (which, fortunately, I did).

I called this number; I pressed 2 for existing problem.  And then I waited.  On hold.  For 15 more minutes.  I was in transit and hung up after arriving home.  I probably would not have had the patience if I hadn’t been in the car.

I called back today.  While this call took another 20 minutes or so, most of it on hold, the personal interaction was much more productive, although when the guy asked for my modem model, I nearly had a melt-down; he accepted my inability to provide this in stride, however.  But. Then. Gave me an 9 hour service window.  Fortunately, he let me slide on mandatory attendance.  I live 3 minutes away and we negotiated a plan in which the service guy would call me on his way.

*Insert witty tie-up ending here* (I don’t have time).

Isn’t it? Don’t you think?

Yesterday morning I dreamed that I had moved a wine glass from the coffee table to the counter by the sink.  The next day, Tom told me that he broke it (this would not have been the first time), and I was pissed.  I wanted to know what he was doing when it broke and he said he’d washed it (this is how it always happens).  I started to laugh, and Tom wanted to know what was so funny.  I said, “It’s just ironic.  The reason I moved the wine glass is so that it wouldn’t get knocked over and break.”

When I woke, I was very pleased with myself that I could use irony appropriately even in my dreams.

And so the night begins

The night began with high optimism.   Tom and I ate dinner at the Shaved Duck.  Our first time since the “change”.  The hot chili was hot but not so hot that I needed the shot of milk.  Then, though, I can handle hot.  We’d met there so I left while the server ran the credit card.

That’s when it all went downhill.  At home, I realized I no longer had my jacket.  One of my very favorite jackets (although, truthfully, all my jackets are my favorite ones — some people have shoes, I have jackets).  Anyway, I was concerned that I hadn’t brought it in with me (I remembered leaving it in my car at Van Goghz earlier, but couldn’t remember seeing it since).  I called Tom.  Yep, left it at the Duck.  That’s good.

And that’s where good ends.  I came home and smelled cat shit, like fresh cat shit.  This is not unusual since Fiona has stopped pooping in the litter box.  Only, I couldn’t find any shit.  I located the source in the litter box as an unburied, fresh pile on top of the litter.  I made to scoop it.  And then I heaved.  Not a dry heave, but a wet heave.  Not just a wet heave, but Bhut Jolokia pepper wet heave.  What only hurt going down nearly killed me on the way up.  Apparently, stomach acid and capscasin don’t mix against the lining of the esophagus and the nasal passages.  The good news is that I managed to get the first heave into the bag slated for cat litter and the rest of it in the toilet.

Don’t worry, it gets worse.  I wouldn’t waste your time with cat poop and pepper puke.  Tom came home while I was cleaning the little spots of puke near the cat litter.  I tried to tell him what happened and indicated that he finish the litter while he told me about cleaning up Fiona’s earlier “accidents.”

Then he let in McLovin.  And Tom first noted that his rear end is torn up and then noted that he has a huge bite mark on his fur and then noted that part of his tail is missing.  By this time, I was in the kitchen, snorting nose puke, which in turn set off another heave, which I caught in the same bag while I wondered how much permanent damage I might be doing to all my mucus membranes.  I still hadn’t seen the cat, but Tom started to sound alarmed.

This sound was not in vain.  The cat’s tail?  It is, in one spot, chewed down to what looks like the bone.  Not only that but something huge tried to take a chunk out of his flank, but left only bloody bite marks.  He has smaller wounds all over, with minimal blood loss and because of his tail, we didn’t look too hard at the other wounds (including the large bite mark) before I dispatched Tom to the Webster Animal Hospital (with the cat of course, who I had managed, with puke breath, to talk into a cat carrier).

I’m sure McLovin will be medically fine.  Cosmetically?  Well, this tussle may have ended his modeling career.

Math Problem

This is a real-world math/logic problem and I thought that since there’s a few geeky, math-types out there who read this (okay, two, maybe three) I’d throw it out there to see if you can help.

We have Board meetings twice per month.  We send out the meeting materials on CD-RW to approximately 25 people each meeting.

Because the return rate is not 100%, one of the assistants asked if it would be more cost effective to buy CD-Rs instead.

CD-RWs: $11.29 per 25-pack (about 45 cents per CD)
CD-Rs: $19.86 per 100-pack (about 20 cents per CD)

The return rate is somewhere between 50-66.66% each meeting, but we can reuse the CD-RWs a dozen times (in theory).

I’m going to try and figure it out on my own, but I am not confident that I will return the appropriate result.

Facebook and other odds and ends

Facebook.  I could go on and on and on about Facebook, but most of you already know it, and really, I should be working and not Facebooking and not talking about Facebooking.

But, I can hide out here, and on Twitter.  On Facebook, worlds are colliding:  co-workers, family, and college and high school classmates (among others).  I’m not used to being all out like that on-line.

That said, today begins the final push for the Biggest Loser.  I have pulled out the secret weapon:  no booze.  Seriously.  No booze until after the first week in April.  Other new or re-inforced tactics include:  weather permitting, walking to work at least twice a week, three if my schedule, and the weather allow; fish and rice for dinner 3 times a week.  More whole wheat, an abundance of fiber and colon cleansing.

After an initial great beginning, my progress slipped; in part due to the hiatus when when went to Key West and the inability to really get back into better habits, especially with regarding to whiskey, wine and pasta.  And, I never really began an exercise program.

The upside is that Tom is doing very, very well, and if I can’t win, maybe he’ll buy me a Kindle with a part of his winnings.

(Wow.  I thought I had more stuff — I guess when I decided not to revel in Facebook stuff, I eliminated odds, and maybe a few ends).

I could go on and on about how much I miss Key West.  This time it’s bad.  I’ve been home almost a month and it’s like an ache.  It’s like I left a little piece of me there.  I think it may have something to do with the cemetery.  My experience in the cemetery was fairly profound.  I can’t explain it without sounding like a whackjob, so you’ll just have to trust me.

Other than that, things and people are really starting to bug me to the point that I want to hole up in my house, and never ever go on-line again (she with the Facebook addiction says paradoxically).

Like this Tea Party thing?  Oh. My. God.  One of the organizers, when interviewed on an on-line site, couldn’t even make an appropriate parallel to the original Tea Party (which was not a protest against how Colonial taxes were spent, but that they were collected without Colonial representation in Parliament).  And, in actual life, if Blocker does that finger in my face thing One. More. Time. as he bashes the president, simply (and ONLY) because I was an outspoken non-fan of GWB during the last 8 years, I. Am. Going. To. Kick him. In. The. Nutsack.

Oh, trust me, it’s not just people bothering me politically–and in fact, it’s not the politics, it’s the expression of the politics, and the fucking hypocrisy, and the misinformation being spouted (back to the Tea Party thing, the Blue Shutter project is “not part of the stimulus bill.  [It is a] candidate for funding by federal grant programs once the bill passes.”)

No, it’s not just politics.  It’s fucking dramalets that go on in my real life nearly daily.  Usually, I’m inured to it, and don’t get involved — I keep my head down, but then people involve me, and then say things to me like “I don’t know how someone as smart as you can be friends with her.”  My involvement in the situation was limited to only being friends with the two people at issue.  I mean, I wasn’t even there.  My last comment with regard to this is that I am Nearly Forty, and should have left this kind of crap behind me 22 years ago.

Grace in small things:  Jay and I had a good time on Saturday night at our casual reunion get-together in Belleville.  I miss Jay, and it was nice hanging out with someone who has known me so long and with whom I have a shared history.

I have reconnected with several people I thought were long in my past, as a result of Facebook and this has been a continued source of wonderment, so it’s not all bad.

In fact, I really don’t want to give the impression that things suck.  For the most part they are awesome.  Tom and I are poised pretty well for weathering out the recession (and even, if fact, to take advantage of the recession); I still love my job, even though I do have some frustrations that I have to concentrate to keep bottled — but, hey! Job! That pays money!  That I love!

I still wouldn’t mind winning the lottery however, and then escaping, to somewhere.  Maybe even everywhere.

Home from MM1

We’re home from the Keys. This was one of my favorite trips to Key West. We had lovely weather driving down in the convertible from FLL, even though we lost sunlight the last hour or so.

Friday night we spent some time at Harpoon Harry’s, which was a new spot for us. I liked it, and the staff (Denise and Rhiannon) so much, I returned several times over the week, and Tom even got drunk with them one night after I’d turned in early (for KW, anyway). Prior to that, though, we saw Al Franken at the Half Shell. I said hi. I wasn’t sure at that point whether he was Sen. Franken or not. I’m sure he didn’t know  if he was either.

Friday morning we spent on the Echo2 Catamaran, with a woman my age and her aunt who were traveling together. We snorkled, we saw dolphins and we spent a lot of time in the middle of the ocean on a sandbar. There’s something odd about walking in the ocean with no land in sight. I suspect Jesus may have known about a sandbar or two.

Sunday, I woke up early and walked to (and then through) the Key West Cemetery, which oddly creeped me out psychically.  I’m not sure why but I felt like 75, 000 ghosts were trying to get into my head.  Eventually, it was too much and I had to leave.  I’ll post pictures soon.

What else? I saw Uncle Bob play at Rick’s (usual), we saw Zack play (usual) at the Hogs Breath (not usual).  Zack was also part of the crowd at Schooner Wharf that got Tom drunk.  I found a new Key West singer whose voice I love: Ben Taddiken. He covered the Killers new song, “Human” and I’d not heard it before. I’ve since heard the Killers version, and Ben does it far more justice.

We ate a lot of oysters and shrimp (of course), Tom tried clams for the first time (not impressed), and while we hit all of our regular joints (Conch Republic, Schooner Wharf, Half Shell and Turtle Kraals (where I was dismayed to discover that Johnny is no longer at the Tower Bar), we also hung out one afternoon at the Smallest Bar, ate dinner at Antonia’s, where we sat next to a couple from St. Louis.

We spent a lot of money. We bought a hammock, and a hammock chair. We bought perfume, we bought art. We bought hot sauce, of course, including one for which I had to sign a waiver.

Also, of course, we stopped at world famous Alabama Jack’s in Card Sound Key for the best conch fritters, EVAH.  The last time I was there, they were a little lacking, but this time?  they were as good as the first time.  In fact, I am jonesing for those fritters.

We stayed for the first time at the Key West Harbor Inn and it is my favorite of all the places I’ve stayed in KW.  And through it all, Brandi from Canine to 5 Pet Sitters took care of the kritters.  I can’t say enough about her, but if you live in St. Louis and need a pet sitter, I’d highly recommend her.  She spent time with the cats (and only charged me for one!) and emailed me after every visit.

Okay, then, I’m home, now and the most exciting thing occured today:  I discovered that 4 Out of 5 Doctors, a 1980’s DC band has reissued a digitally remaster 2 disc set of their first two (and only) albums!

Although I can feel my tan fading already, I’m pretty glad to be home.

New Meme

I swore off memes, but this one I couldn’t pass up.  From s00zi:

The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me. It will be about or tailored to those five lucky “victims.”

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:
- I make no guarantees that you will like what I make!
- what I create will be just for you.
- it’ll be done this year
- you have no clue what it’s going to be. It may be a poem or story. I may make something all craft-y like. It may be a CD.
- I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

The catch? Oh, the catch is that you have to put this on your site as well, if you expect me to do something for you!

11 Pipers Piping

I am back to work after two abbreviated work weeks.  I have nothing to show for it and it’s 12:30.  Now, for just a minute, pretend that you and I are Christmas Card friends and that I am the type to write one of those newsletters.

2008 was a big year.  We bought a house, I was promoted and we celebrated our 1st wedding anniversary.  The second year (all 4 months of it) seem to be going more smoothly than the first year.

Other highlights this last year included our belated honeymoon trip to St. Maarten/Martin, and FOUR trips to Florida (including visits to 5 themeparks and the space museum), one of which I took with Ashley (who has a new web link, but I’m ashamed to say I don’t know what it is) to Key West.

Speaking of Ashley, in September,Tom and I attended her wedding to B, which was very lovely (you, too, can see her wedding invitation design which was featured in this month’s St. Louis Magazine).

Several people in my life died this year, beginning with my grandfather last January.  In February, my neighbor of 7 years passed away suddenly, and Tom and I adopted one of her three cats.  We were apprehensive, but we wanted to keep Sonny in the neighborhood.  He’s mostly a delight, even though we pulled a bait-n-switch and moved him out of the neighborhood a scant 4 months later.  Blue took to him right away, but Fiona remains guarded, although once they were both on neutral territory in the form of the new house, they don’t fight nearly as much.

Unlike in 2007, no one came back to life (like Eskimo Dan did), but I still look for my old friend Chris (known once upon a time in an earlier incarnation of CasaChristy as The Simpson) in nearly every bar in Soulard.

I entered the graduate certificate program in clinical healthcare ethics in the Fall, and it nearly kicked my ass.  I did just fine though, and plan to continue the program this Spring (if I can get my vaccination records from employee health to give to student health in time to register).

Work is great.  Even though we won’t be getting raises this year, I’m fortunate to not only have a job, but a job I love.  Also fortunately, Tom and I are in a position to ride out the recession smoothly (and according to a quiz I took this morning, I’m 68% certain to survive a great depression).  At this point, our personal debt consists of mainly our house.

Oh, yeah, and did I mention how happy and excited I am for this next presidential term to begin.  Gobama. (I love portmanteaus).

/Year End Newsletter.

Christmas was great this year.  Tom surprised me with an iPhone (even though his pants called me from the ATT store, and left a voice mail hint that I would be getting one).  I LOVE it.  I’m obsessed with it, in fact.  He spoiled me this year.  I no longer have to worry at the end of the Angel cycle on TNT, if the programming will change because I now have the complete series on DVD.  He gave me a gift certificate for my salon/spa and even wrote me a love note.

My parents also spoiled me with a Kitchen Aid stand mixer and a roomba (among MANY other things, including a late gift from my father).

Among my favorite presents:  a box of ShamWows!  You’ll say wow! every time.  And I do.

Coming next:

My family has organized a Biggest Loser program.  There’s approximately 800-900 bucks to be had for the winner.  I’m very competative and I’m very motivated by money.  I’m going to use some of my winnings to buy a Kindle (which means that in May, v2.0 will be released, because I will have just purchased v1.0).

I don’t really have a list of new year resolutions, except that I’m going to win our Biggest Loser competition and most importantly, I’m going to be working on being a better friend, wife, daughter, stepmother, etc.  In short, improving the relationships I have and those that develop.

Oh, and to finish the Vision room.

Happy New Year!

Last Christmas

This year I decided that my new favorite Christmas song is “A Christmas to Remember” and my least favorite Christmas song is that whiny word salad “Last Christmas.”  George Michael is all “last year you led me on and I believed you and then I wrapped up all my misguided love for you in a big Christmas package and you just discarded it like some misfit toy.  But, I’ll show you, heartless bitch, I’m going to give to someone else this year, and it’ll be all SPECIAL.”  And you just KNOW that he’s going to jump all over the first person who shows him the littlest amount of attention, misread him, wrap up all his misguided love, only to have it discarded, so that we have to listen to this damn song in perpetuity.

I have lost my Christmas spirit.  I did cheer up a little bit, listening to “Walking in an Alan Parson’s Wonderland” and then watching this video on YouTube.  I always watch this video when I need some cheering up.  It’s absurd, sublime and brilliant.

I think maybe there’s a window open in my office, because there’s a very distinct cold breeze coming from that direction.  I should look and see and if there is an open window, I should close it and stop the breeze.  But, I’m too lazy.

Having a garage is a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful thing.  I have had to deal with ice scraping and snow brushing for nearly 20 years (minus the winter in LA and the winter in NC).  Today, I just got into my car and drove away.  I love my husband for letting me park in the garage on work nights.

It is really cold in here.  Even the top of my desk is cold.  I need to remedy this, laziness aside.

Tonight, Tom and I are going to put a dent in my Christmas shopping (minus the big screen TV I’m buying him; I need to move some money around for that and then maybe Blocker will take me — I’ll need his truck).  With my Christmas shopping complete, maybe I’ll be able to scratch together some Christmas happiness before the season is all over…

Next year, I think we’re going on a cruise.  I think I’m about over Christmas, already.

Sometimes the bar eats you (or 409 words about nothing)

I’ve been very busy, but I’m not sure I have much to show for it.  I certainly don’t have much to write about beyond the stuff so banal or self-pitying, I’m drinking to forget it.

I should tell you instead about my friend Ricket’s life, since he’s all about the interesting.  In an email I received from him during my trip to Florida, he told me that his wife was getting ready to defend her Ph.D., his band found a new lead singer, he’s published another Dummies book (his 8th, maybe) AND they are expected a baby soon!

Also, in the “All Roads Lead Back to Ricket” file, I was talking to a woman on Sunday night, who is from my hometown, but had gone to the other high school.  In her litany of all the people that she hung around with at some point in her life, she mentioned the name of Ricket’s wife.

So, we had a fine time talking about all of that.

This occured at the Pig and Whistle, after the Ellis Paul show at Off-Broadway.  I’ve seen Ellis something like 12 times in 10 years and while this wasn’t the best show, it wasn’t the worst either.  Opening for him, and playing with him, was a band I hadn’t heard of before, Steppin’ in It.  They were much better than their name.  Also on board was Michael Clem from Eddie from Ohio.

Moving along.  Tom and I put up our first Christmas tree.  Oddly, the “Our First Christmas” ornament given to me as a wedding gift is still in my office and not on our Christmas tree.  Maybe I should hang it on the fiber optic tree sitting in my office window.

Other things I’ve been dealing with (and consider this post “vacuuming the cat”, which is a term I just learned today):  thinking about finishing the final drafts of my case studies which are due tomorrow, cleaning cat shit and diarrhea and administering (and then not administering) antibiotics to the afflicted cat, getting compliant with the Missouri Department of Revenue (although I’ll note that I haven’t yet attached my new license plates, preferring instead to park them on my dash board, for want of a screwdriver), creating Christmas lists, but avoiding all semblence of Christmas shopping, while ordering such uncharacteristic items as Angel:  After the Fall, Vol. 1, plumping couch cushions, uncorking wine, stirring pasta, and watching all the channels that fall between 242 and 247 on DirecTV.

Oh, yeah, and I drank some whiskey.